The red planet : $b a science fiction novelWinterbotham, R. R. (Russell Robert)
Science
The red planet : $b a science fiction novel
Winterbotham, R. R. (Russell Robert)
Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Martians -- Fiction; Outer space -- Exploration -- Fiction; Science fiction
"We must show them that we're more powerful than they are. The best way
to defend is to attack," said Spartan.
"They might be better equipped to shoot than we are, sir," said Axel.
"Ludson, whatever gave you the idea that we're inferior to Martians?
This is a dying, decadent world. We are young, strong and in our
prime--in terms of our planet. Just because the Martians have
intelligence, doesn't mean they are superior."
"But--"
"You have your orders," said Spartan. "Carry them out."
We climbed into the car through tiny locks. The interior was
pressurized and full of air, so that we were able to take off our
helmets. There were large windows on all sides from which we were able
to look out on the red sandy plain.
Our ship had landed in the neck of desert between Solis Lacus Major and
Solis Lacus Minor, which we now shortened to Major and Minor. We were
on a ridge, possibly the highest point between the two oases, although
we could not see Minor to our west, since it was over the horizon.
To the east, the ground sloped downward and on the horizon we could
see the dark green of vegetation that marked the edge of Major. To the
north was the first of the two canals connecting the double oasis. To
the south there was only desert, stretching several hundred miles to
the canal junction at Pnyx.
It was about three miles to the fallen spaceship. It had toppled in the
soft sand, narrowly missing an outcropping of rock. Perhaps the base of
the craft had struck the rock, causing the ship to fall over. I noticed
the rocks were highly polished, without any sign of stratification.
Probably they were igneous. Sandstorms must have given them that fine
polish--there was no water around to erode them and the polar glaciers
didn't come this far south.
A little ridge prevented us from looking down into the canal, and we
drove over it for our first close glimpse of this Martian phenomenon.
We weren't quite prepared for the grandeur of the view. The canal
was at least five miles wide, possibly three miles deep. The walls
were sometimes sheer, dropping thousands of feet, leveling off, then
dropping again to form a series of gigantic terraces. In other spots
landslides had crumbled the walls and a slope had been formed, rather
steep, but not too precipitous for a Mars-car to negotiate.
"Let's go down!" I said.
I wanted to see the bottom of this majestic ditch. It was
awe-inspiring, like the Grand Canyon, which it resembled in color,
except that the walls were unstratified. These rocks had never been
formed at the bottom of the sea, but had been baked by the internal
fires of the planet. The last sea had dried before the canals had been
cut. Although they were red, the color shaded from a brilliant scarlet
to a brownish green at the bottom. There was vegetation down there,
and something else, as precious as anything we'd seen thus far--water!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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