The scenery was beautiful. Perhaps the colors were not as blatant as those seen approaching the earth. There were no deep blues of the sea, greens of the fields and forests, yellow of deserts and the snow-tipped majesty of great mountain ranges. The Martian polar caps were not the same as ours either, for they were almost perfect circles. The ice which caps the terrestrial poles is irregular because of continents and seas. But Mars was spectacular. Nearly everything had a tint of red. Even the areas the early astronomers called seas, because they had a greenish shade, showed a brownish red base. The mountains, which soon became visible as we approached the planet, were massive but eroded, far less impressive than the Rockies, the Alps, the Andes or Himalayas. We saw nothing that looked like bodies of water. As we approached the planet, our orbital momentum carried us forward more rapidly than the planet revolved on its axis. Mare Erithraeum swung beneath us and extending eastward was a broad double-canal called Nectar, flowing through a wide expanse of reddish desert. Then I sensed a trembling in the capsule and I knew we had hit the top of the Martian atmosphere. I could not see anything directly beneath us now, because the capsule base cut off the view, but turning my head I saw the brownish green of the Martian pampas far to the north, desert to the south, Mare Erithraeum to the west, and then two smaller, oval patches of vegetation to the east. The latter were Solis Lacus Minor and Solis Lacus Major, between which two areas we planned to land. No friction heat was noticeable in the cabin and it was not unexpected. Although there was air enough to cause some friction on the outside of the ship, our velocity was far less than any we would have encountered on re-entry into the earth's atmosphere. I watched the twin ovals which marked our landing site. The larger oasis, Lacus Major, was in full view. In the center was a shiny dark spot which glinted like polished ebony in the sunlight. And southward, a short distance north of the equator, was another spot just as dark and just as glinting. Cities, perhaps? "What do you make of those things, Dr. Joel?" I asked, pointing out the spots. Joel shook his head. "Our astronomers have noticed them," he said. "The one in Lacus Major is called Umbra. The other is Pnyx, at the junction of two canals. Certain people have suggested they are cities." "Circular cities?" asked Gail, who also watched the screen. "With a dome over them," I said. For now I saw why they glinted. That shiny surface was some transparent substance which covered the city like an inverted bowl. Beneath were blackened buildings. "Since you're so interested in these things, Drake," said Spartan, "you can have the privilege of finding out what they are."