I caught a glimpse of Gail's frightened eyes as she looked toward me, then turned her head so I could not see her fear. But I knew what Dr. Spartan had in mind. He wanted me dead, and by sending me to the very doors of a Martian city, he might save himself the disagreeable task of committing murder. Very, very slowly we came down toward the Martian desert. Through the windows I saw one of our companion rockets land near the rim of the double canal on our north. The ground was uneven there, being churned by furrows and crevasses, and for an instant the rocket teetered, then fell on its side. Fortunately all of the fuel had been used up or jettisoned before it touched the ground, consequently there was no fire. Turning my head I could see the second rocket, standing upright to the west. Then there was a solid but jarring bump--about what you'd feel if you jumped off a ten-foot wall. Our ship rocked with the impact, but remained upright. The motors were cut, but the fuel was not jettisoned, because this ship had to take us back to the Jehad. "We're on Mars," Gail breathed into her microphone. Her hand reached out and grasped my arm with a reassuring squeeze. "Yes, we made it," I said, and wondered if we would ever leave this planet. _Chapter 12_ I longed for something on Mars that was definitely of the earth, so I could say, "This is like home." But the similarities, if any, were vague. While the rockets settled down on the desert, I heard faintly the roar of the blasts, like the murmur of a distant waterfall. The air was so thin that sounds were dampened; still, they were sounds, not the deathly silence of outer space. Now that the rockets were stilled, I was held fast in my seat by gravity--real gravity, not centrifugal force. But it was a very light tug, not at all like earth's. "Unfasten your harnesses," said Spartan. "But please remain here in this cabin till I test the atmosphere." So saying, he unfastened his own belt and climbed down the ladder. As he disappeared through the trap door in the floor I caught a glimpse of his peculiar, pleased smile. Was he responding to the familiarity of gravity, or was he gloating over some particularly satisfying thought of future glory? I heard him open the doors of the locks. Gail squeezed my arm as a small cloud of dust swept up through the opening to the lower part of the ship. "Air!" she said. Martian air had rushed into the ship.