The Dope On Mars
: The Dope On MarsSomebody had to get the human
angle on this trip ... but what
was humane about sending me?
My agent was the one who got me the job of going along to write up the
first trip to Mars. He was always getting me things like
that--appearances on TV shows, or mentions in writers' magazines. If he
didn't sell much of my stuff, at least he sol
"It'll be the biggest break a writer ever got," he told me, two days
before blastoff. "Oh, sure there'll be scientific reports on the trip,
but the public doesn't want them; they want the human slant on
things."
"But, Louie," I said weakly, "I'll probably be locked up for the whole
trip. If there are fights or accidents, they won't tell me about
them."
"Nonsense," said Louie, sipping carefully at a paper cup of scalding
coffee. "It'll be just like the public going along vicariously. They'll
identify with you."
"But, Louie," I said, wiping the dampness from my palms on the knees of
my trousers as I sat there, "how'll I go about it? A story? An article?
A you-are-there type of report? What?"
Louie shrugged. "So keep a diary. It'll be more intimate, like."
"But what if nothing happens?" I insisted hopelessly.
Louie smiled. "So you fake it."
I got up from the chair in his office and stepped to the door. "That's
dishonest," I pointed out.
"Creative is the word," Louie said.
So I went on the first trip to Mars. And I kept a diary. This is it. And
it is honest. Honest it is.
* * * * *
October 1, 1960
They picked the launching date from the March, 1959, New York Times,
which stated that this was the most likely time for launching. Trip time
is supposed to take 260 days (that's one way), so we're aimed toward
where Mars will be (had better be, or else).
There are five of us on board. A pilot, co-pilot, navigator and
biochemist. And, of course, me. I've met all but the pilot (he's very
busy today), and they seem friendly enough.
Dwight Kroger, the biochemist, is rather old to take the "rigors of the
journey," as he puts it, but the government had a choice between sending
a green scientist who could stand the trip or an accomplished man who
would probably not survive, so they picked Kroger. We've blasted off,
though, and he's still with us. He looks a damn sight better than I
feel. He's kind of balding, and very iron-gray-haired and skinny, but
his skin is tan as an Indian's, and right now he's telling jokes in the
washroom with the co-pilot.
Jones (that's the co-pilot; I didn't quite catch his first name) is
scarlet-faced, barrel-chested and gives the general appearance of
belonging under the spreading chestnut tree, not in a metal bullet
flinging itself out into airless space. Come to think of it, who does
belong where we are?
The navigator's name is Lloyd Streeter, but I haven't seen his face yet.
He has a little cubicle behind the pilot's compartment, with all kinds of
maps and rulers and things. He keeps bent low over a welded-to-the-wall
(they call it the bulkhead, for some reason or other) table, scratching
away with a ballpoint pen on the maps, and now and then calling numbers
over a microphone to the pilot. His hair is red and curly, and he looks
as though he'd be tall if he ever gets to stand up. There are freckles
on the backs of his hands, so I think he's probably got them on his
face, too. So far, all he's said is, "Scram, I'm busy."
Kroger tells me that the pilot's name is Patrick Desmond, but that I can
call him Pat when I get to know him better. So far, he's still Captain
Desmond to me. I haven't the vaguest idea what he looks like. He was
already on board when I got here, with my typewriter and ream of paper,
so we didn't meet.
My compartment is small but clean. I mean clean now. It wasn't during
blastoff. The inertial gravities didn't bother me so much as the
gyroscopic spin they put on the ship so we have a sort of artificial
gravity to hold us against the curved floor. It's that constant whirly
feeling that gets me. I get sick on merry-go-rounds, too.
They're having pork for dinner today. Not me.
* * * * *
October 2, 1960
Feeling much better today. Kroger gave me a box of Dramamine pills. He
says they'll help my stomach. So far, so good.
Lloyd came by, also. "You play chess?" he asked.
"A little," I admitted.
"How about a game sometime?"
"Sure," I said. "Do you have a board?"
He didn't.
Lloyd went away then, but the interview wasn't wasted. I learned that he
is tall and does have a freckled face. Maybe we can build a
chessboard. With my paper and his ballpoint pen and ruler, it should be
easy. Don't know what we'll use for pieces, though.
Jones (I still haven't learned his first name) has been up with the
pilot all day. He passed my room on the way to the galley (the kitchen)
for a cup of dark brown coffee (they like it thick) and told me that we
were almost past the Moon. I asked to look, but he said not yet; the
instrument panel is Top Secret. They'd have to cover it so I could look
out the viewing screen, and they still need it for steering or
something.
I still haven't met the pilot.
* * * * *
October 3, 1960
Well, I've met the pilot. He is kind of squat, with a vulturish neck and
close-set jet-black eyes that make him look rather mean, but he was
pleasant enough, and said I could call him Pat. I still don't know
Jones' first name, though Pat spoke to him, and it sounded like Flants.
That can't be right.
Also, I am one of the first five men in the history of the world to see
the opposite side of the Moon, with a bluish blurred crescent beyond it
that Pat said was the Earth. The back of the Moon isn't much different
from the front. As to the space in front of the ship, well, it's all
black with white dots in it, and none of the dots move, except in a
circle that Pat says is a "torque" result from the gyroscopic spin we're
in. Actually, he explained to me, the screen is supposed to keep the
image of space locked into place no matter how much we spin. But there's
some kind of a "drag." I told him I hoped it didn't mean we'd land on
Mars upside down. He just stared at me.
I can't say I was too impressed with that 16 x 19 view of outer space.
It's been done much better in the movies. There's just no awesomeness to
it, no sense of depth or immensity. It's as impressive as a piece of
velvet with salt sprinkled on it.
Lloyd and I made a chessboard out of a carton. Right now we're using
buttons for men. He's one of these fast players who don't stop and think
out their moves. And so far I haven't won a game.
It looks like a long trip.
* * * * *
October 4, 1960
I won a game. Lloyd mistook my queen-button for my bishop-button and
left his king in jeopardy, and I checkmated him next move. He said chess
was a waste of time and he had important work to do and he went away.
I went to the galley for coffee and had a talk about moss with Kroger.
He said there was a good chance of lichen on Mars, and I misunderstood
and said, "A good chance of liking what on Mars?" and Kroger finished
his coffee and went up front.
When I got back to my compartment, Lloyd had taken away the chessboard
and all his buttons. He told me later he needed it to back up a star
map.
Pat slept mostly all day in his compartment, and Jones sat and watched
the screen revolve. There wasn't much to do, so I wrote a poem, sort of.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With Martian rime, Venusian slime,
And a radioactive hoe.
I showed it to Kroger. He says it may prove to be environmentally
accurate, but that I should stick to prose.
* * * * *
October 5, 1960
Learned Jones' first name. He wrote something in the ship's log, and I
saw his signature. His name is Fleance, like in "Macbeth." He prefers to
be called Jones. Pat uses his first name as a gag. Some fun.
And only 255 days to go.
* * * * *
April 1, 1961
I've skipped over the last 177 days or so, because there's nothing much
new. I brought some books with me on the trip, books that I'd always
meant to read and never had the time. So now I know all about Vanity
Fair, Pride and Prejudice, War and Peace, Gone with the Wind, and
Babbitt.
They didn't take as long as I thought they would, except for Vanity
Fair. It must have been a riot when it first came out. I mean, all
those sly digs at the aristocracy, with copious interpolations by Mr.
Thackeray in case you didn't get it when he'd pulled a particularly good
gag. Some fun.
And only 78 days to go.
* * * * *
June 1, 1961
Only 17 days to go. I saw Mars on the screen today. It seems to be
descending from overhead, but Pat says that that's the "torque" doing
it. Actually, it's we who are coming in sideways.
We've all grown beards, too. Pat said it was against regulations, but
what the hell. We have a contest. Longest whiskers on landing gets a
prize.
I asked Pat what the prize was and he told me to go to hell.
* * * * *
June 18, 1961
Mars has the whole screen filled. Looks like Death Valley. No sign of
canals, but Pat says that's because of the dust storm down below. It's
nice to have a "down below" again. We're going to land, so I have to go
to my bunk. It's all foam rubber, nylon braid supports and magnesium
tubing. Might as well be cement for all the good it did me at takeoff.
Earth seems awfully far away.
* * * * *
June 19, 1961
Well, we're down. We have to wear gas masks with oxygen hook-ups. Kroger
says the air is breathable, but thin, and it has too much dust in it to
be any fun to inhale. He's all for going out and looking for lichen, but
Pat says he's got to set up camp, then get instructions from Earth. So
we just have to wait. The air is very cold, but the Sun is hot as hell
when it hits you. The sky is a blinding pink, or maybe more of a pale
fuchsia. Kroger says it's the dust. The sand underfoot is kind of
rose-colored, and not really gritty. The particles are round and smooth.
No lichen so far. Kroger says maybe in the canals, if there are any
canals. Lloyd wants to play chess again.
Jones won the beard contest. Pat gave him a cigar he'd smuggled on board
(no smoking was allowed on the ship), and Jones threw it away. He
doesn't smoke.
* * * * *
June 20, 1961
Got lost today. Pat told me not to go too far from camp, so, when I
took a stroll, I made sure every so often that I could still see the
rocket behind me. Walked for maybe an hour; then the oxygen gauge got
past the halfway mark, so I started back toward the rocket. After maybe
ten steps, the rocket disappeared. One minute it was standing there,
tall and silvery, the next instant it was gone.
Turned on my radio pack and got hold of Pat. Told him what happened, and
he told Kroger. Kroger said I had been following a mirage, to step back
a bit. I did, and I could see the ship again. Kroger said to try and
walk toward where the ship seemed to be, even when it wasn't in view,
and meantime they'd come out after me in the jeep, following my
footprints.
Started walking back, and the ship vanished again. It reappeared,
disappeared, but I kept going. Finally saw the real ship, and Lloyd and
Jones waving their arms at me. They were shouting through their masks,
but I couldn't hear them. The air is too thin to carry sound well.
All at once, something gleamed in their hands, and they started shooting
at me with their rifles. That's when I heard the noise behind me. I was
too scared to turn around, but finally Jones and Lloyd came running
over, and I got up enough nerve to look. There was nothing there, but on
the sand, paralleling mine, were footprints. At least I think they were
footprints. Twice as long as mine, and three times as wide, but kind of
featureless because the sand's loose and dry. They doubled back on
themselves, spaced considerably farther apart.
"What was it?" I asked Lloyd when he got to me.
"Damned if I know," he said. "It was red and scaly, and I think it had a
tail. It was two heads taller than you." He shuddered. "Ran off when we
fired."
"Where," said Jones, "are Pat and Kroger?"
I didn't know. I hadn't seen them, nor the jeep, on my trip back. So we
followed the wheel tracks for a while, and they veered off from my trail
and followed another, very much like the one that had been paralleling
mine when Jones and Lloyd had taken a shot at the scaly thing.
"We'd better get them on the radio," said Jones, turning back toward the
ship.
There wasn't anything on the radio but static.
Pat and Kroger haven't come back yet, either.
* * * * *
June 21, 1961
We're not alone here. More of the scaly things have come toward the
camp, but a few rifle shots send them away. They hop like kangaroos when
they're startled. Their attitudes aren't menacing, but their appearance
is. And Jones says, "Who knows what's 'menacing' in an alien?"
We're going to look for Kroger and Pat today. Jones says we'd better
before another windstorm blows away the jeep tracks. Fortunately, the
jeep has a leaky oil pan, so we always have the smears to follow, unless
they get covered up, too. We're taking extra oxygen, shells, and rifles.
Food, too, of course. And we're locking up the ship.
* * * * *
It's later, now. We found the jeep, but no Kroger or Pat. Lots of those
big tracks nearby. We're taking the jeep to follow the aliens' tracks.
There's some moss around here, on reddish brown rocks that stick up
through the sand, just on the shady side, though. Kroger must be happy
to have found his lichen.
The trail ended at the brink of a deep crevice in the ground. Seems to
be an earthquake-type split in solid rock, with the sand sifting over
this and the far edge like pink silk cataracts. The bottom is in the
shade and can't be seen. The crack seems to extend to our left and right
as far as we can look.
There looks like a trail down the inside of the crevice, but the Sun's
setting, so we're waiting till tomorrow to go down.
Going down was Jones' idea, not mine.
* * * * *
June 22, 1961
Well, we're at the bottom, and there's water here, a shallow stream
about thirty feet wide that runs along the center of the canal (we've
decided we're in a canal). No sign of Pat or Kroger yet, but the sand
here is hard-packed and damp, and there are normal-size footprints
mingled with the alien ones, sharp and clear. The aliens seem to have
six or seven toes. It varies from print to print. And they're barefoot,
too, or else they have the damnedest-looking shoes in creation.
The constant shower of sand near the cliff walls is annoying, but it's
sandless (shower-wise) near the stream, so we're following the
footprints along the bank. Also, the air's better down here. Still thin,
but not so bad as on the surface. We're going without masks to save
oxygen for the return trip (Jones assures me there'll be a return
trip), and the air's only a little bit sandy, but handkerchiefs over
nose and mouth solve this.
We look like desperadoes, what with the rifles and covered faces. I said
as much to Lloyd and he told me to shut up. Moss all over the cliff
walls. Swell luck for Kroger.
* * * * *
We've found Kroger and Pat, with the help of the aliens. Or maybe I
should call them the Martians. Either way, it's better than what Jones
calls them.
They took away our rifles and brought us right to Kroger and Pat,
without our even asking. Jones is mad at the way they got the rifles so
easily. When we came upon them (a group of maybe ten, huddling behind a
boulder in ambush), he fired, but the shots either bounced off their
scales or stuck in their thick hides. Anyway, they took the rifles away
and threw them into the stream, and picked us all up and took us into a
hole in the cliff wall. The hole went on practically forever, but it
didn't get dark. Kroger tells me that there are phosphorescent bacteria
living in the mold on the walls. The air has a fresh-dug-grave smell,
but it's richer in oxygen than even at the stream.
We're in a small cave that is just off a bigger cave where lots of
tunnels come together. I can't remember which one we came in through,
and neither can anyone else. Jones asked me what the hell I kept writing
in the diary for, did I want to make it a gift to Martian archeologists?
But I said where there's life there's hope, and now he won't talk to me.
I congratulated Kroger on the lichen I'd seen, but he just said a short
and unscientific word and went to sleep.
There's a Martian guarding the entrance to our cave. I don't know what
they intend to do with us. Feed us, I hope. So far, they've just left us
here, and we're out of rations.
Kroger tried talking to the guard once, but he (or it) made a whistling
kind of sound and flashed a mouthful of teeth. Kroger says the teeth are
in multiple rows, like a tiger shark's. I'd rather he hadn't told me.
* * * * *
June 23, 1961, I think
We're either in a docket or a zoo. I can't tell which. There's a rather
square platform surrounded on all four sides by running water, maybe
twenty feet across, and we're on it. Martians keep coming to the far
edge of the water and looking at us and whistling at each other. A
little Martian came near the edge of the water and a larger Martian
whistled like crazy and dragged it away.
"Water must be dangerous to them," said Kroger.
"We shoulda brought water pistols," Jones muttered.
Pat said maybe we can swim to safety. Kroger told Pat he was crazy, that
the little island we're on here underground is bordered by a fast river
that goes into the planet. We'd end up drowned in some grotto in the
heart of the planet, says Kroger.
"What the hell," says Pat, "it's better than starving."
It is not.
* * * * *
June 24, 1961, probably
I'm hungry. So is everybody else. Right now I could eat a dinner raw, in
a centrifuge, and keep it down. A Martian threw a stone at Jones today,
and Jones threw one back at him and broke off a couple of scales. The
Martian whistled furiously and went away. When the crowd thinned out,
same as it did yesterday (must be some sort of sleeping cycle here),
Kroger talked Lloyd into swimming across the river and getting the red
scales. Lloyd started at the upstream part of the current, and was about
a hundred yards below this underground island before he made the far
side. Sure is a swift current.
But he got the scales, walked very far upstream of us, and swam back
with them. The stream sides are steep, like in a fjord, and we had to
lift him out of the swirling cold water, with the scales gripped in his
fist. Or what was left of the scales. They had melted down in the water
and left his hand all sticky.
Kroger took the gummy things, studied them in the uncertain light, then
tasted them and grinned.
The Martians are made of sugar.
* * * * *
Later, same day. Kroger said that the Martian metabolism must be like
Terran (Earth-type) metabolism, only with no pancreas to make insulin.
They store their energy on the outside of their bodies, in the form of
scales. He's watched them more closely and seen that they have long
rubbery tubes for tongues, and that they now and then suck up water from
the stream while they're watching us, being careful not to get their
lips (all sugar, of course) wet. He guesses that their "blood" must be
almost pure water, and that it washes away (from the inside, of course)
the sugar they need for energy.
I asked him where the sugar came from, and he said probably their bodies
isolated carbon from something (he thought it might be the moss) and
combined it with the hydrogen and oxygen in the water (even I knew the
formula for water) to make sugar, a common carbohydrate.
Like plants, on Earth, he said. Except, instead of using special cells
on leaves to form carbohydrates with the help of sunpower, as Earth
plants do in photosynthesis (Kroger spelled that word for me), they used
the shape of the scales like prisms, to isolate the spectra (another
Kroger word) necessary to form the sugar.
"I don't get it," I said politely, when he'd finished his spiel.
"Simple," he said, as though he were addressing me by name. "They have a
twofold reason to fear water. One: by complete solvency in that medium,
they lose all energy and die. Two: even partial sprinkling alters the
shape of the scales, and they are unable to use sunpower to form more
sugar, and still die, if a bit slower."
"Oh," I said, taking it down verbatim. "So now what do we do?"
"We remove our boots," said Kroger, sitting on the ground and doing so,
"and then we cross this stream, fill the boots with water, and spray
our way to freedom."
"Which tunnel do we take?" asked Pat, his eyes aglow at the thought of
escape.
Kroger shrugged. "We'll have to chance taking any that seem to slope
upward. In any event, we can always follow it back and start again."
"I dunno," said Jones. "Remember those teeth of theirs. They must be
for biting something more substantial than moss, Kroger."
"We'll risk it," said Pat. "It's better to go down fighting than to die
of starvation."
The hell it is.
* * * * *
June 24, 1961, for sure
The Martians have coal mines. That's what they use those teeth for. We
passed through one and surprised a lot of them chewing gritty hunks of
anthracite out of the walls. They came running at us, whistling with
those tubelike tongues, and drooling dry coal dust, but Pat swung one of
his boots in an arc that splashed all over the ground in front of them,
and they turned tail (literally) and clattered off down another tunnel,
sounding like a locomotive whistle gone berserk.
We made the surface in another hour, back in the canal, and were lucky
enough to find our own trail to follow toward the place above which the
jeep still waited.
Jones got the rifles out of the stream (the Martians had probably
thought they were beyond recovery there) and we found the jeep. It was
nearly buried in sand, but we got it cleaned off and running, and got
back to the ship quickly. First thing we did on arriving was to break
out the stores and have a celebration feast just outside the door of the
ship.
It was pork again, and I got sick.
* * * * *
June 25, 1961
We're going back. Pat says that a week is all we were allowed to stay
and that it's urgent to return and tell what we've learned about Mars
(we know there are Martians, and they're made of sugar).
"Why," I said, "can't we just tell it on the radio?"
"Because," said Pat, "if we tell them now, by the time we get back we'll
be yesterday's news. This way we may be lucky and get a parade."
"Maybe even money," said Kroger, whose mind wasn't always on science.
"But they'll ask why we didn't radio the info, sir," said Jones
uneasily.
"The radio," said Pat, nodding to Lloyd, "was unfortunately broken
shortly after landing."
Lloyd blinked, then nodded back and walked around the rocket. I heard a
crunching sound and the shattering of glass, not unlike the noise made
when one drives a rifle butt through a radio.
Well, it's time for takeoff.
* * * * *
This time it wasn't so bad. I thought I was getting my space-legs, but
Pat says there's less gravity on Mars, so escape velocity didn't have to
be so fast, hence a smoother (relatively) trip on our shock-absorbing
bunks.
Lloyd wants to play chess again. I'll be careful not to win this time.
However, if I don't win, maybe this time I'll be the one to quit.
Kroger is busy in his cramped lab space trying to classify the little
moss he was able to gather, and Jones and Pat are up front watching the
white specks revolve on that black velvet again.
Guess I'll take a nap.
* * * * *
June 26, 1961
Hell's bells. Kroger says there are two baby Martians loose on board
ship. Pat told him he was nuts, but there are certain signs he's right.
Like the missing charcoal in the air-filtration-and-reclaiming (AFAR)
system. And the water gauges are going down. But the clincher is those
two sugar crystals Lloyd had grabbed up when we were in that zoo.
They're gone.
Pat has declared a state of emergency. Quick thinking, that's Pat.
Lloyd, before he remembered and turned scarlet, suggested we radio Earth
for instructions. We can't.
Here we are, somewhere in a void headed for Earth, with enough air and
water left for maybe three days--if the Martians don't take any more.
Kroger is thrilled that he is learning something, maybe, about Martian
reproductive processes. When he told Pat, Pat put it to a vote whether
or not to jettison Kroger through the airlock. However, it was decided
that responsibility was pretty well divided. Lloyd had gotten the
crystals, Kroger had only studied them, and Jones had brought them
aboard.
So Kroger stays, but meanwhile the air is getting worse. Pat suggested
Kroger put us all into a state of suspended animation till landing time,
eight months away. Kroger said, "How?"
* * * * *
June 27, 1961
Air is foul and I'm very thirsty. Kroger says that at least--when the
Martians get bigger--they'll have to show themselves. Pat says what do
we do then? We can't afford the water we need to melt them down.
Besides, the melted crystals might all turn into little Martians.
Jones says he'll go down spitting.
Pat says why not dismantle interior of rocket to find out where they're
holing up? Fine idea.
How do you dismantle riveted metal plates?
* * * * *
June 28, 1961
The AFAR system is no more and the water gauges are still dropping.
Kroger suggests baking bread, then slicing it, then toasting it till it
turns to carbon, and we can use the carbon in the AFAR system.
We'll have to try it, I guess.
* * * * *
The Martians ate the bread. Jones came forward to tell us the loaves
were cooling, and when he got back they were gone. However, he did find
a few of the red crystals on the galley deck (floor). They're good-sized
crystals, too. Which means so are the Martians.
Kroger says the Martians must be intelligent, otherwise they couldn't
have guessed at the carbohydrates present in the bread after a lifelong
diet of anthracite. Pat says let's jettison Kroger.
This time the vote went against Kroger, but he got a last-minute
reprieve by suggesting the crystals be pulverized and mixed with
sulphuric acid. He says this'll produce carbon.
I certainly hope so.
So does Kroger.
* * * * *
Brief reprieve for us. The acid-sugar combination not only produces
carbon but water vapor, and the gauge has gone up a notch. That means
that we have a quart of water in the tanks for drinking. However, the
air's a bit better, and we voted to let Kroger stay inside the rocket.
Meantime, we have to catch those Martians.
* * * * *
June 29, 1961
Worse and worse. Lloyd caught one of the Martians in the firing chamber.
We had to flood the chamber with acid to subdue the creature, which
carbonized nicely. So now we have plenty of air and water again, but
besides having another Martian still on the loose, we now don't have
enough acid left in the fuel tanks to make a landing.
Pat says at least our vector will carry us to Earth and we can die on
our home planet, which is better than perishing in space.
The hell it is.
* * * * *
March 3, 1962
Earth in sight. The other Martian is still with us. He's where we can't
get at him without blow-torches, but he can't get at the carbon in the
AFAR system, either, which is a help. However, his tail is prehensile,
and now and then it snakes out through an air duct and yanks food right
off the table from under our noses.
Kroger says watch out. We are made of carbohydrates, too. I'd rather
not have known.
* * * * *
March 4, 1962
Earth fills the screen in the control room. Pat says if we're lucky, he
might be able to use the bit of fuel we have left to set us in a
descending spiral into one of the oceans. The rocket is tighter than a
submarine, he insists, and it will float till we're rescued, if the
plates don't crack under the impact.
We all agreed to try it. Not that we thought it had a good chance of
working, but none of us had a better idea.
* * * * *
I guess you know the rest of the story, about how that destroyer spotted
us and got us and my diary aboard, and towed the rocket to San
Francisco. News of the "captured Martian" leaked out, and we all became
nine-day wonders until the dismantling of the rocket.
Kroger says he must have dissolved in the water, and wonders what that
would do. There are about a thousand of those crystal-scales on a
Martian.
So last week we found out, when those red-scaled things began clambering
out of the sea on every coastal region on Earth. Kroger tried to explain
to me about salinity osmosis and hydrostatic pressure and crystalline
life, but in no time at all he lost me.
The point is, bullets won't stop these things, and wherever a crystal
falls, a new Martian springs up in a few weeks. It looks like the five
of us have abetted an invasion from Mars.
Needless to say, we're no longer heroes.
I haven't heard from Pat or Lloyd for a week. Jones was picked up
attacking a candy factory yesterday, and Kroger and I were allowed to
sign on for the flight to Venus scheduled within the next few
days--because of our experience.
Kroger says there's only enough fuel for a one-way trip. I don't care.
I've always wanted to travel with the President.
More
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The Coming Of Yolara
"Never was there such a girl!" Thus Larry, dreamily, leaning head in hand on one of the wide divans of the chamber where Lakla had left us, pleading service to the Silent Ones. "An', by the faith and the honour of the O'Keefes, an' by my dead mot... The Common Man
It would, of course, take a trio of Ivory Tower scientists to conceive of tracking down that statistical entity, the Common Man, and testing out an idea on him. And only the Ivory Tower type would predict that egregiously wrongly! F... The Cone
The night was hot and overcast, the sky red, rimmed with the lingering sunset of mid-summer. They sat at the open window, trying to fancy the air was fresher there. The trees and shrubs of the garden stood stiff and dark; beyond in the roadway a g... The Consequences Of A Deviation
Barbicane had now no fear of the issue of the journey, at least as far as the projectile's impulsive force was concerned; its own speed would carry it beyond the neutral line; it would certainly not return to earth; it would certainly not remain ... The Coral Kingdom
The next day I woke with my head singularly clear. To my great surprise, I was in my own room. My companions, no doubt, had been reinstated in their cabin, without having perceived it any more than I. Of what had passed during the night they were ... The Cosmic Express
The year 1928 was a great year of discovery for AMAZING STORIES. They were uncovering new talent at such a great rate, (Harl Vincent, David H. Keller, E. E. Smith, Philip Francis Nowlan, Fletcher Pratt and Miles J. Breuer), that Jack Wi... The Council Of State
It was a brilliant assemblage of high dignitaries and military officers that had gathered in the Imperial Winter Palace at St. Petersburg. Of the influential personages, who, by reason of their official position or their personal relations to the ru... The Count Steps Over The Line
The Silver Cloud's crew, if we may so term it, had busied themselves in various ways, according to their several dispositions and bents of mind. Dr. Jones was occupied more or less of the time with the invalids, who came to him from far and wide. ... The Counter-attack
The news which caused me to change my plans was grave enough. As I have explained, the American lines lay roughly to the east and the south of the city in the mountains. My own Gang held the northern flank of the east line. To the south of us was ... The Country Of The Blind
Three hundred miles and more from Chimborazo, one hundred from the snows of Cotopaxi, in the wildest wastes of Ecuador's Andes, there lies that mysterious mountain valley, cut off from all the world of men, the Country of the Blind. Long years ago ... The Court-martial
The mausoleum of Anar Kali, a great octagonal building in the gardens to the south of the town, was the place whither the Russian prisoners were taken. Heideck and Edith Irwin were not the first that had found quarters there; for, besides about a ... The Crimson Sea
I was in the heart of a rose pearl, swinging, swinging; no, I was in a rosy dawn cloud, pendulous in space. Consciousness flooded me, in reality I was in the arms of one of the man frogs, carrying me as though I were a babe, and we were passing thro... The Crying Of The Man
AS I drew near the house I saw that the light shone from the open door of my room; and then I heard coming from out of the darkness at the side of that orange oblong of light, the voice of Montgomery shouting, "Prendick!" I continued running. Pr... The Crying Of The Puma
MONTGOMERY interrupted my tangle of mystification and suspicion about one o'clock, and his grotesque attendant followed him with a tray bearing bread, some herbs and other eatables, a flask of whiskey, a jug of water, and three glasses and knives.... The Crystal Egg
There was, until a year ago, a little and very grimy-looking shop near Seven Dials, over which, in weather-worn yellow lettering, the name of "C. Cave, Naturalist and Dealer in Antiquities," was inscribed. The contents of its window were curi... The Cylinder Opens
When I returned to the common the sun was setting. Scattered groups were hurrying from the direction of Woking, and one or two persons were returning. The crowd about the pit had increased, and stood out black against the lemon yellow of th... The Dark Nebula
Years melted into the past, centuries, aeons. The light of the incandescent star, sank to a furious red. It was later, that I saw the dark nebula--at first, an impalpable cloud, away to my right. It grew, steadily, to a clot of blackness in the n... The Dark Sun
How long our souls lay in the arms of joy, I cannot say; but, all at once, I was waked from my happiness, by a diminution of the pale and gentle light that lit the Sea of Sleep. I turned toward the huge, white orb, with a premonition of coming troub... The Days Of Imprisonment
The arrival of a second fighting-machine drove us from our peephole into the scullery, for we feared that from his elevation the Martian might see down upon us behind our barrier. At a later date we began to feel less in danger of their eyes... The Dead Immortal
When I reached home, Sarakoff was out. He had left a message to say he would not be in until after midnight, as he was going to hear Leonora sing at the opera, and purposed to take her to supper afterwards. Dinner was therefore a solitary meal for... The Deadly Daughters
These gorgeous fanatics were equally at home with men, murder, or matrimony, and they used all three with amazing success. Dr. Hubert Long, 40, bachelor and assistant professor of political science at Mentioch University, thrust his ru... The Death Of The Curate
It was on the sixth day of our imprisonment that I peeped for the last time, and presently found myself alone. Instead of keeping close to me and trying to oust me from the slit, the curate had gone back into the scullery. I was struck by a... The Death Sentence
A few moments before the appointed time on the following morning a strong guard of Zat Arras' officers appeared at our quarters to conduct us to the great hall of the temple. In twos we entered the chamber and marched down the broad Aisle of Ho... The Decision
Colonel Sebastian MacMaine didn't feel, that morning, as though this day were different from any other. The sun, faintly veiled by a few wisps of cloud, shone as it always had; the guards at the doors of the Space Force Administration Building sal... The Declaration Of War
The capital city of the Fenachrone lay in a jungle plain surrounded by towering hills. A perfect circle of immense diameter, its buildings of uniform height, of identical design, and constructed of the same dull gray, translucent metal, were arran... The Delegate From Venus
Everybody was waiting to see what the delegate from Venus looked like. And all they got for their patience was the biggest surprise since David clobbered Goliath. "Let me put it this way," Conners said paternally. "We expect a cert... The Depths Of Omean
Now I realized why the black pirate had kept me engrossed with his strange tale. For miles he had sensed the approach of succour, and but for that single tell-tale glance the battleship would have been directly above us in another moment, and the... The Destroyers
Anketam stretched his arms out as though he were trying to embrace the whole world. He pushed himself up on his tiptoes, arched his back, and gave out with a prodigious yawn that somehow managed to express all the contentment and pleasure that... The Destruction Of Lo-tan
"How did you know I had been taken to Lo-Tan as a prisoner?" I asked the little group of Wyoming Bosses who had assembled in Wilma's tent to greet me. "And how does it happen that our gang is away out here in the Rocky Mountains? I had expected, a... The Diamond Maker
Some business had detained me in Chancery Lane nine in the evening, and thereafter, having some inkling of a headache, I was disinclined either for entertainment or further work. So much of the sky as the high cliffs of that narrow canon of traffic... The Discovery Of Lines Upon Mars-the Great Martian Controversy
After the little interlude with M'Allister, I resumed my remarks by saying that "The year 1877, so memorable for the near approach of Mars and the discovery of its two tiny satellites, was also the year in which a still more important discove... The Discovery Of The Food
I. In the middle years of the nineteenth century there first became abundant in this strange world of ours a class of men, men tending for the most part to become elderly, who are called, and who are very properly called, but who dislike extrem... The Disillusionment Of Ginger Stott
I Stott maintained an obstinate silence as we walked together up to the Common, a stretch of comparatively open ground on the plateau of the hill. He walked with his hands in his pockets and his head down, as he had walked out from Ailesworth w... The Dochart Pit
HARRY FORD was a fine, strapping fellow of five and twenty. His grave looks, his habitually passive expression, had from childhood been noticed among his comrades in the mine. His regular features, his deep blue eyes, his curly hair, rather chestn... The Doctor Disappears
Hotep saw that he was ruined, and he went to fall down before Pharaoh and beg for mercy. The monarch, not having the courage of his own hard-heartedness, answered him,-- "I desire not to deal harshly with thee, O Hotep; for thou hast struggled ... The Door In The Wall
I One confidential evening, not three months ago, Lionel Wallace told me this story of the Door in the Wall. And at the time I thought that so far as he was concerned it was a true story. He told it me with such a direct simplicity of convicti... The Dope On Mars
Somebody had to get the human angle on this trip ... but what was humane about sending me? My agent was the one who got me the job of going along to write up the first trip to Mars. He was alway... The Dying World
"And now tell us of yourself," said 25X-987, "and about your world." Professor Jameson, noted in college as a lecturer of no mean ability and perfectly capable of relating intelligently to them the story of the earth's history, evolution and mar... The Eagle's Nest
On the morrow, when I awoke after a sound sleep, our vehicle seemed motionless. It seemed to me evident that we were not running upon land. Yet neither were we rushing through or beneath the waters; nor yet soaring across the sky. Had the inve... The Earth
Thus I was, and only the memory that I had lived through the dark, once before, served to sustain my thoughts. A great time passed--ages. And then a single star broke its way through the darkness. It was the first of one of the outlying clusters of ... The Eastern Tunnel
The next day was Tuesday, the 30th of June and at six o'clock in the morning we resumed our journey. We still continued to follow the gallery of lava, a perfect natural pathway, as easy of descent as some of those inclined planes which, in very... The Electric Gun
There was much excitement aboard the Advance. The submarine came to a stop in the water, while the treasure-seekers waited anxiously for what was to follow. Would they be rammed again? This time, stationary as they were, and with the other boat c... The Encounter
CHAPTER I I Oliver Brand was seated at his desk, on the evening of the next day, reading the leading article of the New People, evening edition. * * * * * "We have had time," he read, "to recover ourselves a little from the intoxication... The End
When it came time for Ernest and me to go to Washington, father did not accompany us. He had become enamoured of proletarian life. He looked upon our slum neighborhood as a great sociological laboratory, and he had embarked upon an apparently endl... The End
We may remember the intense sympathy which had accompanied the travelers on their departure. If at the beginning of the enterprise they had excited such emotion both in the old and new world, with what enthusiasm would they be received on their ... The End Of Tao
The scene of desolation that met us in the Lone City was at once extraordinary and awesome. It seemed impossible that our rays, acting for so brief a period, could have done so much damage. The city was nothing more than a semicivilized settlement... The End Of The Journey
"Say Doc!" It was Larry's voice flung back at me. "I was thinking about that frog. I think it was her pet. Damn me if I see any difference between a frog and a snake, and one of the nicest women I ever knew had two pet pythons that followed her aro... The End Of The Old Order
So far as Graham was able to judge, it was near midday when the white banner of the Council fell. But some hours had to elapse before it was possible to effect the formal capitulation, and so after he had spoken his "Word" he retired to his n... The End Of The Solar System
From the abutment, where once had been the windows, through which I had watched that first, fatal dawn, I could see that the sun was hugely greater, than it had been, when first the Star lit the world. So great was it, that its lower edge seemed alm... The Enemy To Be Starved Into Submission
"He is gone!" cried Martha, running out of her kitchen at the noise of the violent slamming of doors. "Yes," I replied, "completely gone." "Well; and how about his dinner?" said the old servant. "He won't have any." "And his supper?" "H... The Epilogue
I cannot but regret, now that I am concluding my story, how little I am able to contribute to the discussion of the many debatable questions which are still unsettled. In one respect I shall certainly provoke criticism. My particular provin... The Escape
The Mercutians all regarded me curiously as we came among them. By the respect they accorded Tao, and his attitude toward them, I decided he was the leader of the entire party. I stopped, wondering what would happen next. The man guarding me was s... The Escape
"Are you sure you understand, Tallis?" MacMaine asked in Kerothic. The alien general nodded emphatically. "Perfectly. Your Kerothic is not so bad that I could misunderstand your instructions. I still don't understand why you are doing this. Oh I... The Escape From Mardonale
"That was a wonderful bluff, Dick!" exclaimed the Kofedix in English as soon as Nalboon and his guards had disappeared. "That was exactly the tone to take with him, too--you've sure got him guessing!" "It seemed to get him, all right, but I'm wo... The Escape Of The Dead
A sense of delicious dreaminess overcame me, my muscles relaxed, and I was on the point of giving way to my desire to sleep when the sound of approaching horses reached my ears. I attempted to spring to my feet but was horrified to discover that ... The Eternal Wall
A scream of brakes, the splash into icy waters, a long descent into alkaline depths ... it was death. But Ned Vince lived again--a million years later! "See you in half an hour, Betty," said Ned Vince over the party telephone. "We'll be out a... The Ethics Of Espionage
The steamer from Karachi to Bombay had about twenty officers and a larger number of noncommissioned officers and men on board who had been wounded in the first engagements on the frontier. The sight of them was not calculated to relieve the gloomy... The Eve Of Battle
In twenty minutes the Ithuriel ran alongside the Britain, which was one of the five most formidable battleships in existence. For five years past a new policy had been pursued with regard to the navy. The flagships, which of course contained the c... The Eve Of The Third Day
A touch upon Constans's shoulder and a voice in his ear aroused him. He sprang to his feet; the sunshine was streaming through the glazeless casements, and Constans, being yet heavy with sleep, blinked against it as a man drunken with wine. Oxenfo... The Eve Of The War
No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various co... The Evil-looking Boatmen
BUT the islanders, seeing that I was really adrift, took pity on me. I drifted very slowly to the eastward, approaching the island slantingly; and presently I saw, with hysterical relief, the launch come round and return towards me. She was heavi... The Exodus From London
So you understand the roaring wave of fear that swept through the greatest city in the world just as Monday was dawning--the stream of flight rising swiftly to a torrent, lashing in a foaming tumult round the railway stations, banked up into ... The Experimental Farm
I. Mr. Bensington proposed originally to try this stuff, so soon as he was really able to prepare it, upon tadpoles. One always does try this sort of thing upon tadpoles to begin with; this being what tadpoles are for. And it was agreed that he... The Explosion And Its Results
The next day, which was the twenty-seventh of August, was a date celebrated in our wondrous subterranean journey. I never think of it even now, but I shudder with horror. My heart beats wildly at the very memory of that awful day. From this tim... The Extra-galactic Duel
Loaded until her outer skin almost bulged with tightly packed bars of uranium and equipped to meet any emergency of which the combined efforts of the mightiest intellects of Norlamin could foresee even the slightest possibility, Skylark Three lay ... The Eyes In The Dark
My son! I could not believe my ears. Slowly I rose and faced the handsome youth. Now that I looked at him closely I commenced to see why his face and personality had attracted me so strongly. There was much of his mother's incomparable beauty ... The Face Of Death
I MUST HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP FROM EXHAUSTION. When I awoke I was very hungry, and after busying myself searching for fruit for a while, I set off through the jungle to find the beach. I knew that the island was not so large but that I could easily ... The Fair Race
Downward along a smooth, broad floor led the strange tunnel, for such Carthoris was now convinced was the nature of the shaft he at first had thought but a cave. Before him he could hear the occasional low moans of the banth, and presently from... The Fall Of Nu-yok
My position among the Hans, in this period, was a peculiar one. I was at once a closely guarded prisoner and an honored guest. San-Lan told me frankly that I would remain the latter only so long as I remained an object of serious study or mental d... The Falling Star
Then came the night of the first falling star. It was seen early in the morning, rushing over Winchester eastward, a line of flame high in the atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it, and taken it for an ordinary falling star. Albin describ... The Fat Knight At The Boar's Head
When Francis Bacon, having evaded Rebecca's mistaken pursuit, reached the deserted grove in which the Panchronicon still rested, he found to his dismay that Droop was absent. Copernicus was not the man to let the grass grow under his feet, and h... The Fate Of A Spy
Colonel Mercier-Milon reported from Brussels that he had arrested Countess Arselaarts and thought he had made a valuable capture. The Countess was deeply in debt and lived very extravagantly. A little time ago she had been assisted financially by ...