Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net [Illustration] THE DOPE on Mars By JACK SHARKEY _Somebody had to get the human angle on this trip ... but what was humane about sending me?_ Illustrated by WOOD 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 sold _me_. "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.