Part 8

At a distance of one million miles, we had to aim carefully at Mars. The planet was speeding along its orbit at about fifteen miles per second, in comparison with our speed which was slightly more than three. If we missed we couldn't catch up because our acceleration was too slow. We'd have to go home empty-handed.

Our electronic computer worked out the corrections to our line of flight so that we would be caught by Mars' gravitational field. We had already located the three unmanned rockets by radar and we had a small telescope in the control room, plus telescopic lens on the video cameras to help us. This was lucky, because as we approached Phobos, Axel called excitedly from the control room.

"We're having trouble with the Martians, Dr. Spartan!"

There was nothing on the television screens to indicate an attack by spaceship, but we did see an unusual amount of "snow," as if there were interference. It wasn't until I took my turn in the control room that I found out the trouble. Axel was there then, having remained to check out what he was certain was the truth.

"They're jamming our radar," he explained. "It's so fogged up we can't locate the unmanned rockets."

"Then they're not friendly," I said. I'd suspected they wouldn't welcome us with open arms, and I think the others had felt the same way.

"Maybe playing safe," he said.

"If we could only find a way to communicate with them," I said. "Maybe we could make them understand that we're friendly."

Axel shook his head. "Would you believe everything a man from outer space told you?" he asked. "With three rocket ships circling their planet, they must expect an invasion, now that a bigger one is approaching."

"At least they don't have missiles," I said. Then a sudden thought struck me. "This fogging of the radar may prove something. Maybe they don't have eyes."

He gave me a blank look. "How do you figure it?"

"They have radar and they must know we'll contact the rest of the 'fleet.' They figure it'll be by radar. Since they don't seem to suspect that we can _see_ the rockets, maybe radar is their only method of seeing."

"Even if you brought that in from left field, you're thinking, boy," said Axel.

But the fogged radar had given us a distinct message: _Earthmen, you're not welcome because we don't know your reasons for coming here. We don't want you to land._ The message was as plain as if it had been sent in English.

There was no thought of turning back. What the hell? We'd come this far, hadn't we?

We got a good look at Phobos, a jagged, uneven rock. It wasn't even round. It looked like a chunk of basalt, but Dr. Joel, the geologist, pointed out black streaks which, he said, were outcroppings of meteoric iron. It hadn't originally been a part of Mars, as our moon was once a part of the earth. Phobos was a captured asteroid, and so probably was Deimos.

The unmanned rockets were in a group, all within ten miles of each other. They were circling Mars in two hours, inside the orbit of Phobos. We approached them without radar because they were easily seen as bright moving specks in the sky.

There was nothing to pack, not even instruments, because these unmanned rockets were supposed to contain every item we would need. We just put on our spacesuits, strung a line between the Jehad and the largest of the three rockets--after stopping the Jehad's rotation--and crossed over.

Although I'd been treated to some very pretty sights of the earth and the moon, Mars was on a par with any of them. It's a small planet, only 4,200 miles in diameter, but it didn't look so small now. It filled half the sky, big, red and angry. In the northern hemisphere, where it was late spring, the polar ice cap had all but disappeared. Brownish green vegetation swept southward. Here and there over the surface was a fleecy cloud and the mysterious canals were as straight as if they'd been drawn by ruler. All those in the north had doubled and looked like parallel lines. There was a suggestion of mountains in the area known as Mare Erithraeum, which was not a sea as the early astronomers thought, but an oasis.

Once aboard the rocket, I took a seat next to Gail. Unlike the Saturn capsule, this one had portholes, to be used for observing Mars once we landed. And through them we could see Mars as we orbited toward our landing site.

We had entered through locks just above the rocket chambers. A large storeroom was packed with equipment, and a ladder ran through it to the nose cone. I noted with a great deal of relief that there was a huge tank marked _WATER_. It contained enough for all uses on Mars. Three weeks of "luxury" as far as water was concerned and if we found drinkable water on Mars, we could replenish our supply on the Jehad.

This, of course, did not take into consideration Dr. Spartan's plans.

Dr. Spartan came aboard last. He sat down.

"Don't remove your helmets," he warned. "I haven't released the oxygen supply yet and it's best that we land in spacesuits. We don't know what kind of terrain we'll strike and it's possible we may wind up with a punctured ship which could cost us our air supply." He paused, then added: "And, of course, we don't know what weapons the Martians have."

There was a sharp intake of breath in my earphones. It was not only Gail but others who made the sound.

"In a short time," Spartan went on, "we'll be the first men to set foot on Martian soil. We've had a long trip, beset by--ah--serious difficulties." He was using my terminology. "Perhaps you have disliked me, or even hated me. However, there is more to be thought of than personalities. The earth expects us to complete a mission on Mars. I am the leader. I give the orders. And whether you like me or not, you'll obey. We are going into a strange world, where a strange form of life--hostile life--exists.

"The Martians will meet us on their own soil, undoubtedly with superior numbers and, possibly, with weapons we will not comprehend. But on the earth there are many glorious tales of small, determined groups who have defended themselves against vastly superior forces. In the interest of self-preservation we must stick together. In the interest of the faith of our world in us, the expedition must succeed. We must stick together until our last day on Mars."

Paying close heed to Spartan's words, his phrase, "until our last day on Mars," did not escape me. I was certain he intended no group cohesion after that time.

"Now," he continued after a slight pause, "the planners of this trip had considerable foresight. In spite of the opinions of many men who have studied Mars, that intelligent--and hence, possibly, belligerent--life cannot exist here, the men who selected our equipment saw to it that we could defend ourselves should the need arise."

Dr. Spartan reached up and pulled open the door of a cabinet behind him. There, in racks, were two rifles. Six pistols, in holsters, were on shelves. He pulled out five of the pistols and strapped one on himself before passing out the others.

"We will keep Grover's pistol in reserve," Spartan said, nodding toward the one left. "There are clips in all of them and extra ammunition aboard. We have regular and explosive bullets for the rifles, which are automatic. You'll note that all the trigger guards are large enough to accommodate your space gloves."

As we strapped on the pistols, Spartan reached down and held up one of the rifles. It, too, had a modified trigger guard.

"These are M-14 weapons," he continued. "It's a modern military weapon using a 7.62 mm. slug. It can be fired automatic or semi-automatic and it is simple in its operation. However, besides myself, only William Drake has had experience with these weapons. He was in the army for a short time. Therefore Drake and I will be the riflemen of the group."

At least, I thought, Spartan and I will be armed equally.

I looked around at the group. Gail was rubbing her hand gingerly over her weapon. "I don't know how to fire this thing, Dr. Spartan," she said.

"There's nothing to know," said Spartan. "You point the gun and pull the trigger. It's very simple if you aim it accurately."

Axel cleared his throat. "Don't you think it would be wiser, sir, if we made our first appearance on Mars without arms? If we meet the intelligent life of the planet, or if they should detect us through spotting devices, it might convince these creatures that we are not hostile invaders, but peaceful scientists."

"Whoever said we were peaceful?" Spartan asked. "Eventually Mars will become a colony of the earth."

"That's the same mistake Spain made when Columbus discovered America," said Axel. "A lot of blood could have been spared if the nations of the earth hadn't thought of land grabbing."

"Idealistic motives become you, Ludson," said Spartan, "but they never got anybody anywhere. Man is the highest form of intelligent life in the solar universe--"

"How do you know?" Gail asked.

"Because I am a man. We will be doing the Martians a favor by giving them the benefits of our civilization. I mean to claim Mars for the earth. And don't worry about these Martian monsters taking offense at our guns. They may not recognize them as weapons." He paused and then his voice grew harsh. "Wear your guns at all times. Keep them near at hand when you sleep. This is an order."

We knew he was right about guns, as he had been right about many things. No one sold Spartan short on his ability as an astronaut. The Martians would not recognize guns. Anything we carried in our hands, a scientific instrument, even a flag of truce, might be mistaken for a weapon. Just as Mars was new, different and incomprehensible to us, the earth would be to them, and so would the people of the earth.

"Fasten your seat belts," Spartan snapped.

As I adjusted my straps, I had the same feeling I'd had the first time I orbited. I was half afraid and half eager. At the time I took my first solo, I'd asked a ground crewman: "What'll I do if something goes wrong?" And he replied: "Just sit there. You won't have time to do anything else."

We'd land on Mars, all right. Chances were good that we'd land alive. Leaving Mars alive would be a different matter. I found myself thinking: _If the Martians don't get me, Dr. Spartan will._

Spartan touched a switch. A green light flashed on in the control room. Everything was ready for the entry into Mars atmosphere. The light blinked once. The electronic controls were working. At the proper moment the rockets would slow us down and Mars' gravity would do the rest.

Then the whole ship shook. Our rockets were blasting. I felt pressure in the seat of my spacesuit. After living for eighteen months with gravity so lean that a man could hardly fall down, I had G's in my pants. I felt as if I'd returned to earth again. I was no longer afraid. We were on our way down to Mars.

The deceleration began to push up the gravity inside the capsule. But it was nothing like the force a man felt when re-entering the earth's atmosphere. Mars is only one tenth the mass of the earth and its gravity is something like forty per cent. We were falling in slow motion, and carefully calculated rocket bursts, all handled by automatic controls, would set us down more gently than a parachute. In fact, a parachute on Mars would only be slightly more effective than on the moon. Mars has some atmosphere, though very thin, while the moon has none at all.

The scenery was beautiful. Perhaps the colors were not as blatant as those seen approaching the earth. There were no deep blues of the sea, greens of the fields and forests, yellow of deserts and the snow-tipped majesty of great mountain ranges. The Martian polar caps were not the same as ours either, for they were almost perfect circles. The ice which caps the terrestrial poles is irregular because of continents and seas.

But Mars was spectacular. Nearly everything had a tint of red. Even the areas the early astronomers called seas, because they had a greenish shade, showed a brownish red base. The mountains, which soon became visible as we approached the planet, were massive but eroded, far less impressive than the Rockies, the Alps, the Andes or Himalayas. We saw nothing that looked like bodies of water.

As we approached the planet, our orbital momentum carried us forward more rapidly than the planet revolved on its axis. Mare Erithraeum swung beneath us and extending eastward was a broad double-canal called Nectar, flowing through a wide expanse of reddish desert.

Then I sensed a trembling in the capsule and I knew we had hit the top of the Martian atmosphere. I could not see anything directly beneath us now, because the capsule base cut off the view, but turning my head I saw the brownish green of the Martian pampas far to the north, desert to the south, Mare Erithraeum to the west, and then two smaller, oval patches of vegetation to the east.

The latter were Solis Lacus Minor and Solis Lacus Major, between which two areas we planned to land.

No friction heat was noticeable in the cabin and it was not unexpected. Although there was air enough to cause some friction on the outside of the ship, our velocity was far less than any we would have encountered on re-entry into the earth's atmosphere.

I watched the twin ovals which marked our landing site. The larger oasis, Lacus Major, was in full view. In the center was a shiny dark spot which glinted like polished ebony in the sunlight. And southward, a short distance north of the equator, was another spot just as dark and just as glinting. Cities, perhaps?

"What do you make of those things, Dr. Joel?" I asked, pointing out the spots.

Joel shook his head. "Our astronomers have noticed them," he said. "The one in Lacus Major is called Umbra. The other is Pnyx, at the junction of two canals. Certain people have suggested they are cities."

"Circular cities?" asked Gail, who also watched the screen.

"With a dome over them," I said. For now I saw why they glinted. That shiny surface was some transparent substance which covered the city like an inverted bowl. Beneath were blackened buildings.

"Since you're so interested in these things, Drake," said Spartan, "you can have the privilege of finding out what they are."

I caught a glimpse of Gail's frightened eyes as she looked toward me, then turned her head so I could not see her fear. But I knew what Dr. Spartan had in mind. He wanted me dead, and by sending me to the very doors of a Martian city, he might save himself the disagreeable task of committing murder.

Very, very slowly we came down toward the Martian desert. Through the windows I saw one of our companion rockets land near the rim of the double canal on our north. The ground was uneven there, being churned by furrows and crevasses, and for an instant the rocket teetered, then fell on its side.

Fortunately all of the fuel had been used up or jettisoned before it touched the ground, consequently there was no fire.

Turning my head I could see the second rocket, standing upright to the west.

Then there was a solid but jarring bump--about what you'd feel if you jumped off a ten-foot wall. Our ship rocked with the impact, but remained upright.

The motors were cut, but the fuel was not jettisoned, because this ship had to take us back to the Jehad.

"We're on Mars," Gail breathed into her microphone. Her hand reached out and grasped my arm with a reassuring squeeze.

"Yes, we made it," I said, and wondered if we would ever leave this planet.

_Chapter 12_

I longed for something on Mars that was definitely of the earth, so I could say, "This is like home." But the similarities, if any, were vague. While the rockets settled down on the desert, I heard faintly the roar of the blasts, like the murmur of a distant waterfall. The air was so thin that sounds were dampened; still, they were sounds, not the deathly silence of outer space.

Now that the rockets were stilled, I was held fast in my seat by gravity--real gravity, not centrifugal force. But it was a very light tug, not at all like earth's.

"Unfasten your harnesses," said Spartan. "But please remain here in this cabin till I test the atmosphere."

So saying, he unfastened his own belt and climbed down the ladder. As he disappeared through the trap door in the floor I caught a glimpse of his peculiar, pleased smile. Was he responding to the familiarity of gravity, or was he gloating over some particularly satisfying thought of future glory?

I heard him open the doors of the locks. Gail squeezed my arm as a small cloud of dust swept up through the opening to the lower part of the ship. "Air!" she said. Martian air had rushed into the ship.

Looking out of the porthole, I saw Spartan in his spacesuit, standing in the red sand, the first human being to set a booted foot on Mars. He walked gingerly a few paces, then set up a small instrument, pressed buttons and read dials. Then he reached down, picked up a handful of sand and tossed it in the air. A playful gesture for Dr. Spartan. But why shouldn't he be elated? He had led the first voyage from earth to Mars. The sand he threw seemed to drift down ever so slowly--a little pebble taking fully a second to fall five feet. On earth it would have fallen 16 feet in that short space of time.

Spartan stood erect and silent, his helmeted eyes fastened on the oasis to the east. For a moment I forgot his arrogance, his murderous heart, and his determination to kill me and to take Gail. He was a representative of the earth, not an individual now. Then he marched back to the ship, his evil manner suddenly accentuated. Every move, every gesture showed his utter contempt for others. He was the kind of man who was able to make you mad by merely saying, "Good morning."

He entered the ship and closed the locks. Then he came up the ladder to the control room and twisted a valve which released the air in the ship.

Not until that moment did he address us over his helmet transmitter.

"The Martian atmosphere is much like the earth's," he said. "It has oxygen, nitrogen, a small amount of carbon dioxide and minute traces of water vapor. Possibly it also contains inert gases--the heavier ones. I doubt if there's much helium here. It is not poisonous, although it does contain a small amount of ammonium vapor. However, it is too thin to breathe. We may be able to pump air into our ship to replenish our air supplies, should they get low, but we can't go out of the ship without spacesuits."

Talk of ammonia in the atmosphere led to new avenues of speculation. Scientists have suspected for many years that a kind of life might exist on compounds of ammonia, instead of water. There are indications that the first life on earth may have absorbed ammonia from sea water, instead of oxygen, for some such compounds are still present in proteins. As oxygen grew more plentiful on the earth, life adapted itself to water and oxygen. On Mars this stage may not have been reached, although it seemed rather unlikely. As rare as the oxygen was, Dr. Spartan said, the amount of ammonium vapor in the air was small.

Soon the cabin was filled with air. We descended the ladder and began to unpack the materials.

Axel remained in the control room, alert for Martians, listening to the radio which now was filled with a variety of weird whistles, chirping noises and rattles.

"They know we've landed," said Axel. "I can't understand these Martians, but I have a feeling a lot of this is about us."

"We can defend ourselves," said Spartan.

"What if they have nuclear weapons?" I asked.

Dr. Spartan shrugged. "It's not impossible," he said.

* * * * *

That first day on Mars was all work. We went to the nearest rocket ship that had landed with us, the one that remained upright, and unpacked its cargo. Since this rocket was not going to leave Mars there was much more gear aboard because no extra fuel had been carried. Most valuable of the equipment were two Mars-cars, self-propelled vehicles which were similar to those used in exploring the moon.

They were four-wheeled, with a cabin swung in the middle. Each wheel was equipped with tires sixteen feet in diameter. Although the machine itself was almost as large as a freight car, it was constructed of aluminum and lightweight alloys and even on earth it would not weigh as much as an ordinary motorcar. The Mars-cars were electrically driven, powered by specially built storage batteries which could be charged from solar cells built into our main rocket.

Also aboard the rocket was ore sampling equipment, which we expected to use in studying the geology of Mars. Dr. Spartan put Warner Joel to work with the digging tools to construct a moat around our headquarters ship. Instead of a drawbridge, a causeway was left to the north of the ship, running diagonally across the moat. Rocks were piled in the middle of the causeway so that two paths were left for the tires of the Mars-cars. A hostile force attempting to cross the causeway could be enfiladed by pistol and rifle fire from behind a small breastworks at the base of the ship, or from the locks of the ship itself.

It was while digging this moat that Dr. Joel found rubies. The soil was full of them. They were more plentiful than pebbles on the earth.

"Possibly a lot of the color of the Martian sand is due to aluminum oxide tinctured with chromium," Joel explained. He assumed we all knew this was the chemical composition of rubies.

"I suspected the Martians used lidar," said Axel.

And, of course, he assumed we all knew that lidar was light radar, which physicists on the earth were just learning how to use. It's a method of amplifying light through a special tube of artificial rubies. The light excites the chromium in the rubies and causes the atoms to give off a red glow. The resulting red beam can be focused to pencil thinness and sent vast distances. Scientists believe that some of the nearer stars--meaning stars within the range of ten light years distant from the sun--can be explored by lidar.

We had unpacked most of the gear from the two ships and had assembled the Mars-cars by noon the next day.

"Ludson," said Spartan, "take Drake over to the No. three ship and bring back all the supplies you can carry. The rest of us will make our living quarters habitable."

"Yes, sir," said Axel. He turned to me. "Come on, Bill. Let's get started."

"If you see signs of life," Spartan said, "shoot first."

"But, sir," Axel protested, "wouldn't it be best for us not to do anything unless we're attacked?"

"We must show them that we're more powerful than they are. The best way to defend is to attack," said Spartan.

"They might be better equipped to shoot than we are, sir," said Axel.

"Ludson, whatever gave you the idea that we're inferior to Martians? This is a dying, decadent world. We are young, strong and in our prime--in terms of our planet. Just because the Martians have intelligence, doesn't mean they are superior."

"But--"

"You have your orders," said Spartan. "Carry them out."

We climbed into the car through tiny locks. The interior was pressurized and full of air, so that we were able to take off our helmets. There were large windows on all sides from which we were able to look out on the red sandy plain.

Our ship had landed in the neck of desert between Solis Lacus Major and Solis Lacus Minor, which we now shortened to Major and Minor. We were on a ridge, possibly the highest point between the two oases, although we could not see Minor to our west, since it was over the horizon.

To the east, the ground sloped downward and on the horizon we could see the dark green of vegetation that marked the edge of Major. To the north was the first of the two canals connecting the double oasis. To the south there was only desert, stretching several hundred miles to the canal junction at Pnyx.