ATAVISM By ERIK FENNEL Bombs crashed. Ack-ack hammered. Gunnar and Martha crouched in a cave, slowly starving, grimly preferring death to capture. What a time for a Martian to visit Earth! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1947. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The amphibious force moved in with big guns ready, with rockets and flame throwers and LCI's and LCT's and planes and thousands of combat-hardened men, expecting to shoot the works against the fog-shrouded little island that might have held the northern key to invasion. The men were all tensely expectant. All, that is, except the nurse and the Air Force radioman whom one of the LCT's had picked up en route, drifting in a rubber life raft. But their apparent indifference to the impending battle aroused little comment. The task force had its own problems to consider, and that pair had already had it rugged. Their plane, they said, had been shot down weeks before and they'd been dodging Japs ever since. When the ramp of the first landing craft grated on the gravel and word went back to the waiting ships that the battle was off, that the Japs for some unknown reason of their own had pulled out without even pausing to destroy their equipment, the nurse and the radioman seemed as calm as though it were what they had expected all along. But in the excitement over the startling new development their peculiar behavior was overlooked. They didn't complain, for they had no desire to do any more lying than necessary.... * * * * * ... Yark was a Great Brain. Even the more advanced embryos were conscious of his revered status. But his three eyes blinked in rotation--a sure sign of pleasure in a Martian--and in the pleasure of addressing the most distinguished Martians from every field of endeavor his outlines wavered and grew dim. For seconds at a time he _thinned out_ almost to transparency. He addressed the gathering orally, though of course all present were sufficiently advanced for direct brain-to-brain communication. Yark fancied himself as an orator--the one atavistic trait he consciously allowed himself--and mental contact did not allow the little frills of speech-making. "The outer hull of the spaceship is made of oxides," he declared, "because the planet selected for initial exploration has an unconscionable amount of oxygen in its atmosphere, and oxides will not oxidize." Mental applause resounded through the great Hall. This was excellent Martian logic. "Construction of the vessel was relatively simple. The great problem lay in developing a life form which could withstand the rigors of the journey. "What sets us apart from the lower forms of life?"