The Secret of the Martian Moons (7 page)

Nelson took back the eyepiece and stared again. “Gee, it would be something to find out the history of that city. I wonder if the Martians wouldn’t be likely to show up there first?”

He stared steadily at the vacant city, but no motion or change rewarded his eye. Jim said, as he watched, “One thing I’m sure of. The Martians were sentimental about themselves. They had museums, they protected their property and homes, just as the ancient Egyptians did. They may have had a religion that held they would return someday after death, but the trouble with that is that, unlike the Egyptians, they simply wouldn't make any pictures or statues of themselves. Not one!”

“Maybe they had a superstitious idea that if aliens looked on their likeness it would somehow hurt then-souls,” said Nelson. “Some backward savages on Earth look on photography that way.”

“Ahh,” murmured Jim, “that would be all very well if the Martians were backward—but they were not!”

Time passed steadily. Even under the strange circumstances routine began to quiet the tension. The Earth was moving ever farther from them, and began to diminish as a brilliant star, to cling closer and closer to the flaming corona of the sun. Drawing ever farther away from Mars, it would soon pass behind the sun, and vanish from the sight of the stranded six for several long months.

As they took their turns at die observation post, they began to expect no changes. They watched but no longer switched back when tricks of their eyes made them imagine a flicker of motion where there had been none. Once McQueen called an alarm, but it turned out that he had seen a brief dust spout occasioned from the bare sand by a rare freak of the red-desert winds.

The seasons of Mars were changing steadily, and Nelson watched the gleaming white polar cap dwindle and the southern polar cap build up. The Earth clung so close to the sun that it could be glimpsed only by straining against the sun's fiery glare, and at last came the moment when the tiny green dot vanished completely from their sky. This was a somber moment for the expedition. For a brief spell they went around silent and thoughtful, feeling more than ever how thoroughly they were cut off from their parent world and all they held dear.

But the observations never ceased. Always two men were out watching, checking, measuring. Jim and Nelse were on duty during a period when Mars was but a quarter crescent with night creeping steadily across its face. On the edge of the daylight portion, the city which Jim had called one of the oldest was in view, and Nelson concentrated his scope upon it. Several times he had returned to this Martian Athens, his mind speculating on the mystery of a history no man might ever learn. His eye moved over its hexagonal buildings, as the shadows of twilight lengthened steadily. He stared down at the circular doorways set in the homes. He looked at the square flat plates in the ground that opened into underground passages and chambers unseen by man. He could almost see the plants closing in on themselves, folding their leaves into furry fists against the oncoming cold thin-aired night.

Slowly the vision in his eyepiece grew darker as night swept over the city. In a few more minutes he would have to shift his view elsewhere, for the city at night became invisible in the darker dark of the Martian night. Still buried in his thoughts, he stared down at the city, his eyes straining to keep the details of houses and markings as the view changed from light to dark, turned gray, became blue-gray, then blacker and finally merged into black. At the very instant that he stared, he saw a flicker.

A light went on in the city! A tiny circle of white light where there had been a doorway to a building. A tiny circle that had been an open door, where no door should have been opened!

And even as Nelson gaped speechless with surprise, the tiny circle flickered, blinked, and vanished as the door swung shut!

Nelson Parr caught his breath, let out a shout. “Hey!” came Jim Worden s voice in his earphones. “You trying to blast my ears off?”

“I saw a light, Jim!” Nelse held his voice back by sheer force of will. He felt like shouting and jumping around. “Where?” came back Jim's voice, rising excitedly in pitch. Worden crowded in to the eyepiece of the scope, trying to push Nelson aside so that he could take a look.

“It's gone now, but I saw something,” was young Parr’s reply, and he told Worden what he had seen. Jim looked carefully, but the city was in darkness and they could see nothing. Not a light broke the secrecy of the view.

“What did it look like, son?” came the voice of the elder Parr on their helmet phones. Though in the ship, he had been tuned in on their suit speakers and heard their comments. Soon Nelson could hear the voices of the other expedition members chiming in as the excitement woke them from their sleep or task.

In very short order, all six were outside, grouped around the scope while Nelson was explaining again what he had seen. There were excited comments and suggestions, then John Carson Parr called for silence.

“Now listen, men, let s not lose our heads. We’re not likely to spot any more signs immediately and certainly not while that area is in darkness. We know where to look and from now on, we’ll keep a strict watch there every minute it’s in the sunlight. Go on back to your duties. I think we’ve finally found our quarry, but this is only the beginning.”

Reluctantly the four off duty drifted back to the ship. Jim and Nelson stood out the rest of their watch, but they saw nothing further to excite comment.

In spite of their efforts, it was not until four watches later that something was seen. This time, again in the same ancient Martian city, one of the men was sure that he had seen a crushed spot in the growths around a certain structure that looked as if some large craft had landed and departed from there. But keeping track of one certain spot is hard to do when the surface is constantly turning and your own observation platform, the little moon, is also moving.

Next thing was the discovery by Gutman of a door in another part of the city that was unquestionably half open. They could see no sign of action near it, but there it was, not closed. By the time the next observation of the city occurred, about twenty hours later, that door was shut again.

The six watchers were keyed up with excitement. Among themselves they were discussing who would be the lucky man to first spot the Martians. “It’s pretty obvious,” said Gutman, expressing the general opinion, “that they waited until Earth was entirely out of the sky to come out of their hiding places.”

John Parr was not certain, however, that they would ever be able to actually make out the forms of the Martians if they did spot them. “We re still a little far away to see any definite shapes of creatures. If you saw a man from where we are, you would not see more than a blurry spot. We may have actually to make a trip down to Mars and sneak up on them.”

Jim Worden laughed. “A fine chance we'd have! These Martians are the cagiest creatures anyone ever hunted. I'll bet they’ve got some sort of radar system that would tell them instantly the first time we even hit their atmosphere. Don’t forget how long they successfully hid from us.”

A strange idea suddenly slipped into Nelson’s head. He debated with himself whether he should mention it, finally chancing it. “Do you suppose that perhaps these are not the Martians? Maybe they’re some other set of explorers from elsewhere in space taking a look around now that we’ve abandoned the place?”

Jim Worden laughed. Bryan McQueen patted Nelse on the back. “It could be, but it’s highly unlikely. After all, how would these other explorers know we’d left unless they’d been watching us all along? Now the Martians might have been watching us, that I can believe. But why look for trouble elsewhere? One set of extra-Terrestrials is enough.”

By the next period when their Martian Athens came into sight, it was early morning there on Mars. As the sun rose and its belt of light flooded into the streets of the ancient town, McQueen, who was on observation, let out a shout. Piled in plain sight in the area between two structures were several large objects exactly like boxes or crates. They all took turns looking but there was no doubt about it. They could see no motion around, but it was clear that now the unknowns had decided they could dispense with a certain amount of secrecy.

“How many more hours of observation do we have?” asked the elder Parr anxiously.

Telders glanced up, gave a quick calculation. “Not good. This sector isn’t going to be visible from here for more than another couple hours. Then it will be rotated away from us and we won’t see the city for— ummm—maybe thirty hours.”

John Parr slammed one gloved hand angrily into the other. “Blast!” he groaned. “This is just the time we have to keep that place under constant watch. I’m sure, I’m as sure as I’m standing here, that something or someone is going to pick up those crates and take them somewhere. If we could only see how and who and where they take them to, we’ll be well on our way to solving this whole business.”

“There’s no way we can watch that city all day,” said Worden. “Not from here.”

“Then why can’t we find a better spot where we can see it?” urged Nelson. “Could we see the city all day from Deimos?”

“Now that’s an idea!” said his father quickly. “Telders, will you check that and see?”

Telders ran inside their cruiser and, after a few moments’ checking on their charts and calculators, called out on his helmet phone. “Yes, if we can get an observer on Deimos within the next two hours, we could watch that city from there during the broad daylight for at least the next ten hours.”

John Parr called back to Telders, “Is the ship’s lifeboat in workable order?”

“Of course,” came back the instant reply. “And it can make the trip easily.”

“O.K.,” said Parr, “we'll do it.” He turned to the men. “Worden, you and Nelse were due to take the next shift, so you’ll be in best shape for the job. Take the lifeboat, load on the other scope and lenses, and get going. Telders will give you the figures for the trip.”

Nelson’s heart gave a bound. Then he and Jim Worden raced back to the big cruiser, followed instructions, hastily loading the necessary equipment in the cruiser’s small lifeboat, itself a tiny spaceship capable of interplanetary flight on its own. There was no need to load up on food or water. The little craft always carried sufficient provisions in the event of an emergency and had its own water flask and regeneration system. When the two had the lenses and frame of their scope stowed safely into the tiny cramped cabin, they opened the emergency panel in the cruiser’s side and the little craft slipped out gently and bounced onto its own runners on the rocky surface of Phobos.

Telders rushed out of the navigational comer of the bigger ship, handed them a sheet of paper. “Here’s the data on our various satellite speeds and positions. Mostly you can make the trip by eye, however. It’s only a short distance as they go! Take it easy when you come into Deimos though.”

Worden and Nelson checked their own suits, hastily went over the lifeboat’s equipment as every good spaceman should and verified with their own eyes that it was all in working order. The little ship was only about fourteen feet long and its strong little engine and fuel space occupied fully half of that length. The two would have to cramp themselves into the forward seven feet along with their belongings.

“Who’s going to drive?” asked Jim. “I know how, but it’s been quite a number of years since I piloted anything in space. Zipping through the air in explorer ramblers is about my pace today.”

“I’ll take it up,” said Nelson, sounding more confident than he felt. “I handled these at the Space Academy only a few months ago and I’m fairly sure this will be no different.”

His father nodded. “O.K., it’s probably better that way. The younger you are, the better your reactions and the faster your control. Just remember to keep your head and you’ll be all right.”

So Nelson slipped into the driver’s seat and Jim piled into the space next to him, almost on his lap. They slid the transparent quarter-top closed over them, set the molecular seals. Jim spread out Telders’ notes on his lap, where he could call them off if needed to his companion.

Nelson opened the throttle, felt the engine hum. He kicked the ground rockets into operation, felt the ship slide forward on its runners over the rocky plain. Boosting it quickly, he blasted his jump-off tubes and with a sharp jolt they were off the surface of Phobos and into space.

“Watch that!” yelped Jim. “I almost banged my head on the top with that jackrabbit takeoff!”

“Sorry,” Nelse murmured, busy at his controls. “I’ll get the feel of this in a moment. I forgot that we weren’t taking off against Earth’s gravity.”

He set his teeth and flexed his fingers again. This was a test he had never really had. It was one thing to pilot this type of craft under Earth conditions in controlled testing spheres, quite another to be entrusted with it in real earnest under real space circumstances. He eased up his speed, took the little craft easily around in a wide half circle and headed it outward from the little moon.

They could see their objective ahead of them, a tiny spot of white moving across the endless panorama of outer space. Mars’ second moon was half the size of Phobos, being only about five miles in diameter. It was nine thousand miles farther away from the red planet than the inner moon and took nearly three times as long to circle it once. As such it was even now moving slowly over the daylight hemisphere, and their mystery city objective would be in plain sight as Deimos moved through the Martian sky.

Nelson Parr’s problem was simply to pilot the little boat outward and into the orbit of Deimos, bringing it into the same speed and cutting ahead of it as he did, so as to arrive at the little satellite at a proper landing tempo. He set up the various figures on the ship’s little automatic navigator and after it had clicked and chewed this data electronically he noted the times and alternate speeds with which he was presented. He chose the alternate that would get him there fastest, although this was always a riskier course.

He stepped up his rocket blasts and the two men felt themselves being pushed back in their seats as the little boat accelerated steadily. Nelson was determined to make the astronomically short trip in less than two hours. He piled on speed and boosted the craft up heavily, then let it coast for about half an hour at over twenty thousand miles an hour top speed. While they coasted, Jim and he speculated on the Martians.