The Angry Planet (25 page)

Until these more comprehensive
volumes are ready (and, because of the vastness of the subject, it may be some
time before they are), this present book must stand as an earnest of our
intentions—a scenario, as it were—a synopsis of the full, detailed story. As
such, it comes now to its natural end, imperfect though it may be in many
aspects (for instance, I have not dwelt at length on the return journey, partly
because it was in the main uneventful, and hardly different in general shape
from the somewhat fully described outward flight, and partly because, for us,
the adventure may be said to have ended when Malu freed us from the incubus of
the thing on the ladder at the height of the volcanic eruption). It will remain
only, in the final pages of this last chapter, to set out one or two documents
concerning our arrival—letters, diary entries, and so on—that will, perhaps,
strike a more intimate and personal note than the flaming headlines that
announced to a startled world only a few weeks ago:

MAN’S FIRST FLIGHT TO MARS

SCOTS PROFESSOR AND WELL-KNOWN

WRITER ACCOMPLISH SPACE-SHIP

JOURNEY IN TWO MONTHS

THREE CHILD STOWAWAYS ON BOARD

These notes and jottings now
follow. With them we say good-bye to you, our patient readers, and to this
book, which, it must be admitted, has given us much joy in the compilation:
for, in the evenings, here in my quiet little Pitlochry house—the house I
feared I would never see again when first the Doctor and I set out—we have
regaled each other by reading aloud the various chapters as they were written,
living over again, as we did so, our adventures on that infinitely strange and
different world millions and millions of miles away.

2.
Miscellanea
.

A cablegram from Jacqueline
Adam to her mother, Mrs. Margaret Adam, at Upton Minster Nursing Home, Dorset:

CHERBOURG

ALL WELL STOP PAUL AND I HAVE
BEEN TO MARS STOP ALL OUR LOVE JACKY STOP.

A cablegram from Mrs. Margaret
Adam to Miss Jacqueline Adam, Cherbourg:

UPTON MINSTER

DELIGHTED TO HEAR FROM YOU MY
DARLINGS STOP DADDY AND I THRILLED BY NEWS JUST SEEN IN PAPERS STOP ALL OUR
LOVE STOP HURRY HOME MUMMY STOP.

A cablegram from Mrs. Marian
Malone to Michael Malone:

LONDON

AUNT MARGARET HAS JUST PHONED ME
NEWS YOU NAUGHTY BOY COME HOME SOON STOP HAD TO RETURN FROM ARGENTINE WHEN YOU
WENT MISSING STOP DADDY WILL BE FURIOUS STOP LOVE TO UNCLE STEVE STOP LOVE
MOTHER STOP.

A cablegram from Dr. Marius B.
Kalkenbrenner to Dr. Andrew McGillivray:

CHICAGO

CONGRATULATIONS ON REMARKABLE
ACHIEVEMENT STOP COMING OVER TO CONSULT STOP.

A letter to her mother written
by Jacqueline Adam from her aunt’s home in London:

My darling Mummy,—It’s very
probable that we shall be seeing you almost as soon as this letter reaches you,
if not before it altogether. But that doesn’t matter in the least little
bit—this letter is not meant to be full of news, for there is far too much of
that to be written down—it will all have to wait till we meet. It is just that
I am so terribly excited at the thought of seeing you again that I must just
say
something
to you straight away.

As you can see from the address
we are at last at Aunt Marian’s house in London. We had to come straight here
from Cherbourg because there is so much to do—they want us to broadcast, for
one thing, and then there are all the newspaper people to be seen. But Paul and
I have said that we are not having any more of it. The broadcast is tomorrow
night (be sure to listen), and immediately it is over we are going to come down
to see you—Daddy is going to bring us, I heard him discussing it all with Uncle
Steve when he arrived from Dorset this morning. People are arranging all sorts
of things for us—one of the newspapers is fixing a lecture tour all over the
country, and although Paul and I said we were no good at lecturing (imagine us trying!),
they said we ought to go all the same, that people would want to see us at
least, even though Uncle Steve and Doctor Mac did all the actual talking. So we
may have to leave again soon to go on this tour (the newspaper is making all
arrangements for us to get off school for it, so that’s not a bad thing), but
anyway we are going to have at least a few days with you—we insist on that
absolutely.

Oh Mummy, I can’t tell you how
lovely it is to be back again! It has been a wonderful adventure in many ways,
but it was very terrible too, and I’m very glad it’s over. Sometimes, you know,
I can hardly believe that it happened at all—and yet at other times it all
comes back in a sort of wave and I know I shall never, never forget it, not as
long as I live. Some of the people of Mars were lovely—I wish you could have
seen them, or that we could have brought them back with us. You would have been
very fond of Lalla and Dilli, my own two special friends. Oh, but it isn’t any
use talking like this—it is all over, and it
did
all happen. And we’re
back again, among all our own people. It’s so wonderful to see everything just
exactly as it was before we set off—somehow, when we were looking at the earth
from Mars, and it was only a star, it wasn’t possible to think that places like
London existed at all—even that Britain existed. But here it all is, not one
little bit different—and oh, how good it is to be able to sleep on a real bed
again, and to be our own weight, and to eat proper food, not leaves and tinned
stuff and the vitamin pastes out of Doctor Mac’s toothpaste tubes!

Aunt Marian has been very kind.
She pretended to be a bit angry with Mike at first—she said he
must
have
been the ringleader, and that if he had behaved himself it probably wouldn’t
have happened to us at all. But that was all just hot air. She was really
terribly glad and relieved that nothing serious had happened to us, after all
the worry of thinking we had been lost up in the hills at Pitlochry. Doctor Mac
took all the blame—he said it was all his fault, that he should have looked
over the
Albatross
thoroughly before setting off and that he probably
would have found us then. Aunt Marian thinks he is “sweet,” so really she has
completely forgiven Mike and the rest of us, it’s only that she likes to make a
bit of a fuss. Besides, I believe that secretly, in her heart, she was glad to
get back from South America—she didn’t really fit in there. And then of course
there’s all the excitement of the newspaper men and the B.B.C. people coming
all round the house to interview us—she’s having the time of her life, if truth
be told—you know the way she is.

Well, I really must stop, Mummy
darling—it’s time to go to bed. I can’t wait till I see you. I hope you’re very
much better—Daddy says you are, that you are almost on your feet again, and
that probably seeing us will complete the cure altogether. Oh Mummy, I hope so!
All our love till we meet—

Your loving daughter,

J
ACKY

Script of an interview in the
B.B.C. radio magazine series
,
In Britain To-night.

(Fade
up signature
tune
and
opening sound sequence. Fade slowly out as announcer speaks.)

Announcer: In Britain To-night!
One of the most thrilling stories of recent times has been told in the Press
these past few days—the story of the flight to Mars by Dr. McGillivray, of
Aberdeen University, Mr. Stephen MacFarlane, the writer, and three children,
Paul and Jacqueline Adam and Michael Malone. The three children are in the
studio with me now, making a brief microphone appearance. Dr. McGillivray and
Mr. MacFarlane will be giving talks in our programs in the course of the next
few days, describing life on Mars and what it was like to travel through space.
Meantime, we thought you would be interested to hear the voices of the
children. Here they are.

Interviewer: Well now,
children, perhaps you had better introduce yourselves to begin with.

Jacqueline Adam: My name is
Jacqueline Adam and I come from Dorset.

Paul Adam: And I am Jacqueline’s
brother. My name is Paul.

Michael Malone: I’m Mike
Malone, of London. I’m the youngest of the party.

Interviewer: It’s true, isn’t
it, that you stowed away on board Dr. McGillivray’s space-ship?

Jacqueline Adam: Oh yes. It was
Mike’s idea, really. You see, we didn’t really know that Dr. Gillivray was
going to Mars.

Michael Malone: My idea was
just to have a look round the rocket, you see, and then before we knew where we
were, we had started off and were thousands of miles into space.

Interviewer: And what was it
like to travel in space?

Paul Adam: It’s very difficult
to say. Actually, that’s one of the things that Mr. MacFarlane will be able to
talk about much better when he comes to the microphone. As far as we were
concerned, I think the really exciting thing was not having any weight.

Interviewer: Not having any
weight? Why, what do you mean?

Paul Adams: I can’t explain it
technically, but the thing is that once you get outside the gravity pull of
earth, you are as light as a feather. We had to wear magnetic boots in the
rocket to keep ourselves from floating about in the cabin.

Interviewer: That must have
been grand fun.

Michael Malone: Oh it was! We
very often took the boots off for a lark, and went for little flights in the
air.

Interviewer: It sounds like
something out of a fairy tale. And then, when you landed on Mars itself, what
was it like?

Jacqueline Adam: Quite
different from anything we could ever have imagined.

Interviewer: You met some of
the Martians, of course?

Jacqueline Adam: Oh yes. We
were with them in one of their cities for more than a week.

Interviewer: What were they
like?

Jacqueline Adam: We got on very
well with them. Of course, it isn’t possible to describe them in the few
moments we have on the air, but we have told the newspapers all about it—you
can read about it in them. And Dr. McGillivray will be describing them when he
talks over the air. But they were really very charming and kind to us.

Interviewer: Well, Miss Adam,
it has been most interesting to chat with you, and I’m sure our listeners will
have enjoyed hearing your voices. What are your plans now that you are back on
earth?

Jacqueline Adam: We have to go
on a lecture tour with Dr. McGillivray, but before that Paul and I are going
down to Dorset to spend a few days with our mother.

Interviewer: I’m sure your
mother will be very proud of you. And after the lecture tour, what then?

Paul Adam: I think we shall all
deserve a holiday then.

Interviewer: Hear, hear! Does
that go for you too, Michael?

Michael Malone: Well—to tell
you the truth, if it’s a matter of a holiday, I wouldn’t mind going back to
Mars to have one there!

(They all laugh. Fade into
music.)

A letter from Mrs. Duthie, of
Pitlochry, to Mr. Stephen MacFarlane:

Dear Mr. MacFarlane,—I was very
relieved to get your letter for which I thank you and to know that you and the
children will be coming up to the cottage for a wee rest after all your stravaiging
up and down the country lecturing to this one and that one. I read all about
your trip in the papers and heard you talking on the wireless it really was
very like your voice it was exactly as if you was in the room with me and it
was a real relief to hear you although I thought you sounded a bit run-down, I
expect you have not been looking after yourself and it will be the food in
those hotels too, it’s never what it should be, and them charging the earth for
it—I tell you it is exactly what my Mother used to say when she was alive,
these hotel people are like the Gordon Highlanders, they know how to charge.
Well, Mr. MacFarlane, you are to take care of yourself and you are to look
after the children, poor little things, imagine them going all that way to
those outlandish parts and not having anyone proper to take care of them—and
then eating leaves off trees too, it can’t be good for anyone all that sort of
thing. But it is a real relief to know that you are all safe and sound, I can
tell you we were real worried about you, losh me it caused a terrible stir in
the town when you went missing, and McIntosh had search parties out in the
hills for days. The Doctor’s labritary assistants, if that is how you spell it,
they said when we heard an explosion and then they saw that the rocket thing
had disappeared, well they said that you had all gone to the moon or that
something had exploded, but we thought they were daft and went on looking all
the same, but of course we did not find anything and it has been a mystery ever
since and in all the papers too till suddenly we heard that you had turned up
again. Well, I shall close now, and tell the children I shall be having a lot
of special bakings for them when they get here, and that will do them good and
fatten them up a bit, there is not any doubt that growing youngsters need their
food, that is what my Mother always used to say.