Page 1 of The Martian




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  The Martian

  based upon the Third Prize ($15.00) Winning Plot of the InterplanetaryPlot Contest won by Allen Glasser, 1610 University Ave., New York

  By A. R. Hilliard and Allen Glasser

  [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Wonder StoriesQuarterly Winter 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidencethat the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  The water was evaporated by the ever-shining sun untilthere was none left for the thirsty plants. Every year more workers diedin misery.]

  * * * * *

  ALLEN GLASSER who furnished the plot]

  A. ROWLEY HILLIARD who wrote the story]

  Many writers of science fiction, who have not given the matter much thought, assume that a man of intelligence from one planet would meet a cordial and sympathetic welcome on another world. It is assumed that people are everywhere educated, curious about other worlds and other cultures, and eager to help a visitor from an alien race.

  Unfortunately there is no assurance that such is the case. Even were the members of another race, on another world possessed of education, there would be bound to be among them low and brutish elements. And if a stranger from another world, dazed by new conditions and unable to make his wants known, were to fall into their hands his fate might not be happy.

  We have read no story that pictures with such clarity and insight the experiences of a man on another world than his own, than does this present story. With the basis of a splendid plot Mr. Hilliard has worked up a simply marvelous story.

  * * * * *

  The rolling, yellow sand reflected the heat of the sun in little,shimmering waves. It reflected the sun's light blindingly throughout allits visible expanse, with the exception of one spot where lay a circularshadow. In the great steely-blue dome of the sky there were no clouds.

  The shadow, although not large, was very dark and distinct. The curved,even line of its circumference was precisely drawn.

  In the air was a persistent rattle of sound--a series of closely spacedexplosions, ever rising in intensity.

  Suddenly a small, uneven shadow detached itself from the circular one;and floated swiftly across the sand. The rattling sound increased to atremendous booming roar, and the large shadow began to fade. At the sametime, the smaller one grew steadily darker.

  High above the sand, a man was falling--much too swiftly.

  The surface of the sand had been shaped into hills by the prevailingwinds. These long, ridge-like hills, or dunes, were convex and gradualin slope on their windward sides, but on their lee sides they wereconcave, and very steep.

  It was near the top of one of these steep slopes that the man landed.His frail legs and body crumpled under the weight of his head; hepitched forward, and half rolled, half slid to the bottom where he cameto rest more gently, the target of a small avalanche of sand.

  Immediately, he began to struggle; and, failing in his attempts torise, stretched his slim arms skyward and uttered a sharp, squealingcry, painfully prolonged. Far above him a spherical object rapidlydiminished in size. Fixedly he watched the sunlight glinting on itspolished grey sides; watched it shrink to a tiny ball, a point, andthen--nothing. He was alone.

  The pressure was horrible. He buried his head in the hot sand, andclapped his ears in a vain attempt to ease the throbbing pain. They musthave underestimated the weight of the Toonian atmosphere if they hadexpected him to live long here! It did not hurt his body, but his headwas being crushed. He knew that he would soon die--and was glad. Thiswild, senseless punishment would be at an end.

  He opened his eyes again, and stared in growing fascination and wonderat the great arched blue dome above him. Gradually the spectacle of thisweirdly beautiful canopy occupied his whole attention. It was like asoft curtain of light blue material hiding the blackness of the sky andthe gleaming stars;--yet the sun shone through. For a moment he forgothis loneliness, his pain, in rapt contemplation of the immenseperfection above him--but only for a moment. Then the explanation cameto him. That beautiful blue was the heavy atmosphere of Toon, which wasslowly crushing him to death! He closed his eyes.

  The heat was terrific, but not as intense as he had expected. Toon wasnearer the Sun than was his own world--millions of miles nearer; yet hewas not badly burnt, and this puzzled him. The explanation must againlie in the heavy atmosphere--serving as insulation, he finallydecided.... He didn't care.

  He felt strangely detached. What signifies life--or death--to a tinybeing separated by fifty million miles from any of its kind? Depositedon this strange planet, he had no hopes of survival; his only emotionwas astonishment that he had lived a moment.

  He struggled to remove the parachute that had been so inadequate ineasing his fall. Movement--even the raising of an arm was seriouseffort. He was glued to the ground by the tremendous gravitational pullof a planet so much greater in size than his own. He relaxed.

  Why struggle? With the passing of hope, all incentive to effort passesalso. He felt no distress at the thought of death. Life, not death,would be freakish in this great wasteland.

  And he was past anger now. What they had done to him they had donethrough hate and fear. Only hate and fear could conceive of so fantastica torture for a fellow being. There was no satisfaction now in theknowledge that they had feared him; nor did he care about their hate....They had won. They would have their way, and all the people of the Lotenwould suffer in consequence....

  Loten! A wave of sick loneliness swept over him.... A point in the sky,obscured by a weird curtain of blue--his home!

  * * * * *

  Certainly, no man had ever suffered thus! A surge of self-pity welled upwithin him. Certainly no being had ever been forced to long for theworld--the globe which gave it birth! This horror was reserved for himalone....

  He clenched his fists. Reason returned to rescue him from emotion. Lotendid not exist for him. He was outside of the world--a tiny flame ofconsciousness in space. And what did that amount to, after all, he askedhimself.... What, but Death?...

  For a long time he lay there in the sand, quite motionless.

  The sun was sinking. Its blazing heat was abating somewhat; its face waslarge, and red. For miles, across the surface of the sand, the shadowsof the dunes were stretching out.... And out of the sunset a tiny speckof black appeared.

  Where he lay the man heard the sound of it--a steady drone, or buzz. Atfirst it did not catch his attention, its inception was so gradual; butsoon it became a roar, and he opened his eyes with a start. He had heardno sound since the departure of the space ship--had expected none. Anuneasy excitement gripped him. He strained his eyes upward....

  Suddenly, over the dune against which he lay, there shot a something,roaring thunderously. He cowered down, stunned by the terrific sound ofit; but he watched it with wide eyes, as it moved across the sky.

  It was T-shaped; with the cross-piece going before. Beneath it hung twowheels. It gleamed metallically.

  Without attempting to rise, he howled shrilly, time after time, catchinghis breath in gasps--while the thing moved steadily away.

  Following an undeviating line, it left him far behind, diminished to aspeck, and disappeared. The sound of it lingered when he could see it nolonger.

  His breath came quickly, spasmodically, through parted lips; his throatwas tight, and his heart pounded. The staggering surprise of what he hadseen and heard left him incapable of thought. His mind was a racingturmoil of questions. His contentment, hi
s resignation weregone--destroyed in a moment; and in their place rose a great uneasiness.

  The return of Hope, to a man who has definitely put it away from him, isa joy closely akin to pain in its intensity. His whole body shook as hestruggled with the sand, attempting to rise.

  He had seen a machine, he knew. It could not have been an animal. It wasnot alive, and it was made of metal.... A machine meant reasoningbeings. There must be reasoning beings on Toon--where Loten's scientistshad argued that they could not be! And machines that travelled throughspace! Perhaps....

  As the new possibilities of his situation burst upon him, hishomesickness returned a thousandfold; and he knew that he could rest nolonger--could not wait in the sand for death. He must struggle--he muststrive, until the end came--because there was a chance!

  Immediately, his mind became purposeful, and he took stock of hisposition. He knew that the whole of Toon was not like this great stretchof sand. Thousands of years of observation of the bright planet hadconvinced the scientists of the Loten that it bore vegetation--andprobably animal life of some sort....

  But rational beings! His astonishment re-asserted itself. Five thousandyears of systematic signalling had brought no response, and the projecthad lately been abandoned. Yet....

  He shook his head, and returned to his problem. He must not waste timenow.

  He had food enough in his stomach to last three days at least, and hewould not need water for even longer. He suddenly realized, withenormous satisfaction, that the pain in his head was considerably lessthan at first. Perhaps his system would be able to adjust itself to theatmospheric pressure....

  The great question was where--and how--to go. He must go somewhere. Onlymotion would satisfy his craving for accomplishment of some sort. Hewould get no help on this great, sterile plain. He had no guarantee thatanother of the flying machines would come near him, and even if it didthere was not much hope of attracting its attention. No, he mustmove....

  He decided to follow in the direction the machine had taken. Itsdestination might be near-by--or it might be thousands of miles away.The probability seemed to be in favor of the former hypothesis, becausethe machine had been moving so very slowly.... Anyway, it was a chance!

  Pulling his legs up under him, he made another determined attempt torise; and finally succeeded in standing erect. But it made his legs acheterribly; and when he tried a step he slipped, falling back with ajarring thud.

  He would have to crawl.

  * * * * *

  Ridding himself of the parachute, and with no further hesitation, he setout, crawling slowly and laboriously, keeping the sun at his back.

  The heat was less oppressive now. The sun had sunk to a point where itsrays were no hotter than at midday on his Loten; and he marvelled at thesimilarity of the two climates. He had seen none of the water vaporsthat astronomers described as almost constantly enveloping Toon.Toon--what he had seen of it--seemed to be as dry as the Loten, if notmore so.

  He climbed the long, gradual slope of a dune; and, after surveying theendless stretch of sand which met his view at the top, slid down thesteep side, and crawled doggedly on.

  Night was falling. The blue dome above him steadily darkened until itbegan to take on the appearance of his own native sky.

  He was dead tired within an hour. He lay still for a time, breathingdeeply--marshalling his strength. He was in excellent physicalcondition, but here his body was so heavy that the slightest motion wasa strain. Soon, however, his eager spirit drove him onward.

  At the end of another hour, happening to raise his head, he uttered aninvoluntary cry. Points of light glimmered in the sky.... So he was tosee the stars after all!--though only at night, it seemed. He wasrelieved. In the back of his mind had been the ever-growing certaintythat he would not be able to keep a direct course. He rested again, andpicked out certain designs that would be helpful as guides.

  He wondered if one of them were Loten. They were very dim and theyblinked strangely; and their arrangement was meaningless to him. Hefixed upon one of them--the brightest--and imagined that it might be_his_ world--where his friends were, and his enemies; where his wivesgrieved for him perhaps; where his children laughed and played; where hemight one day return....

  He crawled along through the sand.

  It was not really dark--only twilight. He wondered if this were night onToon. It must be. Almost directly ahead of him--just a little to theright--was a radiance close to the horizon. It puzzled him. Soon it wasspreading over the sky--a pale, ghostly light. Then a bright pointappeared--a line; it grew. He stared in abject wonder while a great,white disk mounted into the sky, illuminating the scene around.

  He rested a while, and watched it. It was Toon's satellite. It could benothing else. But beside it the two luminaries of his own world were aspygmies. He was still watching it, fascinated, when he resumed hisjourney.

 
Allen Glasser and A. R. Hilliard's Novels