by Earl
“Of all the places to land, this is the worst,” commented Mr. Chaws. “Three miles from a town, ten miles from the nearest airport, and confound it all—I think it’s going to take a hydrotorch to open that thing!”
“When it cools enough to work near it,” added Mr. Boldt significantly. In fact, all the people kept at a comfortable distance from the huge globe, which radiated quite an amount of heat.
“I pity the poor fellow in there if he’s still alive. It’s as bad as a miner, twenty feet from safety, pinned down by a rock across his leg,” spoke Mr. Chaws quietly. “If we could only get a hose connected up and sprinkle it with water.”
“To get his machine so heated up by atmospheric friction, he must have been speeding at a good fast clip, or perhaps he’s been falling from away up,” exclaimed Mr. Boldt.
“When that rocket-ship those three engineers navigated last year to 97 miles up came back as a freely-falling body, the remains of the ship were hardly as hot as this is. This fellow must have come from a good deal higher—and faster,” said Mr. Ramson. “Only it would not get hot in empty space.”
From the roadway that led through the woods appeared the figure of a motorcopper, resplendent in his blue uniform and leather leggings. He strode up, looking curiously at the globular, green-hued ship, unaware of the connection his name would have in the future with one of the most important events in earthly and Martian history.
Stopping a few yards away, he looked sharply at the object and whistled softly.
“Looks like the real thing,” he said in a loud voice, “but why didn’t it get there?” and he pointed to the moon. Every space-adventurer or group of them announced their destination as the moon to the admiring crowds before the take-off, and “reaching the moon” was a standing joke and likewise a proverb in those days.
“My name’s Steelstrong,” he exclaimed as he turned to Mr. Chaws and the others. “What’s it all about?”
All the former picknickers had clustered together and one and all looked at Mr. Chaws as if appointing him speaker. In terse sentences Mr. Chaws told his part of the story. Mr. Ramson continued and emphasized the fact that it would take a hydrotorch to open the mysterious object and get in to rescue the pilot of the ship.
“Where’s the door?” asked Mr. Steelstrong. It was pointed out to him and surveying it carefully, he turned to Mr. Ramson. “You’re right. It’s a space-built ship and the door is an air-tight affair. I wonder what kind of engine he could possibly have to lift a spherical ship off the ground—it doesn’t look like a rocket-ship——”
“Hardly that. Maybe this fellow has perfected some sort of gravity-screen or nullifier,” exclaimed Mr. Boldt.
“If so, he’s done something that scientists have striven to do for a long time,” said Mr. Chaws.
Mr. Ramson had been all the while examining the juncture of the ship and the ground. He straightened up. “I think it is a rocket-ship after all. Look—see that flange almost buried in the earth? I believe that’s part of the circumference of his rocket-discharge tube.”
“Quite possible,” answered the motorcop. “But the shape of the craft is hardly that of a rocket-ship. They are usually elongated, with the discharge tube at one end. Of course, the shape of a rocket-ship does not matter in the least out in mid-space, as long as it has a weighted side.”
Possessed of all details, the motorcop pulled out of his pocket the tiny, but efficient radio-transmitter, such as is in common use today, at that time used mainly by officials, policemen, motorcops and the like. In a few moments the little instrument, powered by universal-energy, made connections and the attendant at headquarters answered.
Mr. Steelstrong reported in a casual voice, little realizing how his words would be read by millions of eager people later——” There is a strange, metallic, glassy like spherical ship or machine, piloted by some unknown person, which landed three miles northeast of Bessemer, some ways off the Bristow Highway, near First Bluff. It landed 16:10 (on the date so well remembered by the peoples of two worlds) according to some twenty eyewitnesses. No means are at hand to enter the ship to rescue the pilot, for not only is it too hot to approach, but the only door is locked from the inside, to all appearances. I advise sending a public-utilities crew over immediately with a hydrotorch to cut an entrance.”
The motorcop snapped off the handy little transmitter and engaged in a calm talk with Mr. Chaws, Mr. Ramson, and Mr. Boldt, although all knew there might be a badly-bruised, possibly suffocating, perhaps dead person in the green, glass-like sphere, strangely out-of-place where it rested on the brown earth. And while the public-utilities crew is speeding with all possible haste in a universal power car to the scene of the landing of the Pioneer, all unconscious of their part in the making of history, let us turn our attention to a person intimately connected with all this and yet about whom very little is known.
Signaling from Mars
AS early as 1960, people had reported strange, intelligent-sounding signals coming through on the carrier-waves of distant stations, especially on wave-lengths of around 10,000 meters. The signaling gradually became more persistent and the public began complaining of the increasing disturbance, comparable to the onetime dreaded static. The government, slow to act as usual, did nothing about it until there was nothing left to do. It was voiced about gradually that some fanatic, with a grudge against the whole world, was bent on spoiling radio entertainment, the greatest means of uniting and educating people there was, and still is. Television remained undisturbed, but it was provoking, when listening to some foreign station on a high wave, to have an intermittent dot-dashing break in as a background to the singing and talking.
Considerable excitement was created when a world-renowned amateur, in experimenting with new hook-ups, devised one capable of receiving waves of as long as 20,000 meters, double the longest in common use. He reported the bothersome signals as very strong at 20,000 meters and said he planned to trace the waves to their source and possibly lead to the capture of the fiend who was creating them. As an outcome of this, a number of radio-experts got together for “the common good of all and for the sake of radio-science,” and adopting the principle of the great amateur’s circuit, built an efficient receiver capable of close to 30,000 meters’ reception!
At first trial the set proved a success for the purpose for which it had been built. The signaling came in loud and distinct, and was found to be simply: dash—double dash—triple dash—etc. up to ten; then combinations such as: dot dash—dot dash dot—dot dash dash dot—etc.; and again: dot dash—double dot double dash—triple dot triple dash—etc. After a long series of such signaling, there would be a short pause and then the whole thing over again:
Really puzzled, the group of amateurs prepared a direction-finder attachment in the attempt to locate the diabolical fiend who tampered with the ether-rights of citizens of the world. The results of this showed the signals to be moving! actually moving! curiously, at a rate of speed equal to the earth’s rotation! At times, the waves came from China, straight through the earth (the group had headquarters near New York City) and at other times, from straight above, as if reflected from the Heaviside Layer!
No progress was made till an enterprising young astronomer, of the group of experimenters, conceived the idea of listening to the signals and observing Mars in a telescope at the same time. He, his name lies shamefully in obscurity today, discovered the explanation of the periodic flashes on Mars: for the signals and the flashes corresponded down to the smallest detailed dot!
It was announced to the world that the Martians (for who or what else could it be?) were atempting to communicate with the earth by means of a powerful directional radio-wave and large, visible flashes. Today we know these flashing lights (which must have been enormous in area) to have been produced by a complicated apparatus whose vitals were radioactive substances, which Mars is singularly blessed with in immense quantities. The period of Signaling lasted, with several breaks, till 1967, or s
even long years—a strong indication of the well-known Martian persistency!
Various theories sprang up back in 1960, regarding the purpose of the signaling. Some claimed the Martians merely wanted to let us know they were living, having found out somehow (or had they?) that the Earth was inhabited by rational beings. There was no doubt that the Earth was the object of their signaling, for assuming that the wave was a directional one, and it is the only possible conception, considering the enormous distance we know the waves to have followed the Earth in its movements.
The theory gradually gained ground that the signaling was a warning from the Martians that they were about to launch ships to the earth. In fact, said some, it might be taken as declaration of war! When the Pioneer landed in 1978, eleven years after the signaling so suddenly stopped, many people said its coming was the message conveyed by the Martian Signals, but we know today, the two events had no connection. The Martians, having means at hand, were imbued with the idea of making a simple gesture at interspace communication, one-sided though it be. One thing is certain; it had a most important effect on the affairs of this world.
Space Flying Period
THE one great result of the Martian Signaling was to start an era of planetary ship-building, which gradually died away to normal in 1975. The people of the world seemed to become electrified by the startling news that rational beings, who understood radio and optics, lived on another and similar world some few million miles away! Minds, before dormant, were dragged out of the rut of the commonplace, and geniuses were born and died in the space of a week. Mars, Martians, interspace communication, light minutes, light seconds, acceleration, initial speed, super-steel, such expressions were on every one’s tongue. Young inventors, old, hair-brained fanatics, unproved Lindberghs, self-appointed areonauts, and pseudo-engineers began designing and trying out spaceships, space-flyers, rocket ships, speed bullets, ether planes, anti-gravity screens, and what not else, in the attempt to be first to tell the Martians how glad we were to acknowledge them our neighbors! Almost daily, martyrs left the earth in imposing ships, having promised to send greetings from wife and child, neighbors and friends to the first Martians he saw. On an average of once a week, some inventor or pioneer came to a sudden death in his self-built ship, or soared into space never to return, never to arrive anywhere, victims of misbegotten ideas. The more rational people had no check on the enthusiastic ones who left all and everything to carry earthly tidings to distant Mars. Professor Billings’ theory, that space-travel was only possible in an atomic-energy engine with more actinium than the world had, was totally disregarded by these fanatics and opinionated ones.
This country held its breath when a former-famed engineer embarked in a truly imposing rocket ship and soared grandly into space one summer’s day. It took him a minute and a half to go 500 miles up and a minute and a half, or perhaps longer, to go back, and they couldn’t even find his body down in the bottom of the big pit which marked the landing of the ship, loaded with several tons of “markite,” a new and powerful explosive.
But youth is impetuous and his spectacular flight served rather to stimulate than check the mad tide of would-be space flyers, ambassadors to Mars.
In the meantime, Dr. Svens and others worked quietly ahead to the goal in sight, the synthetic production of actinium, so greatly needed for the atomic engine—and so rare. Their success in transmuting lower elements into a higher one, platinum, came about three years after the sudden decline in activity in space-flying attempts. Calmly assured that the production of synthetic actinium was but a matter of development, he forged ahead, determined to do in a scientific way what so many foolish people had attempted in other ways. The coming of the First Martian was a blow, but he accepted it philosophically, and perhaps realized that the success of the Pioneer was due more to chance than to Martian science.
An era of “wildcat speculation,” far transcending that of the Civil War Period, set in and the gullible public bought worthless stock from convincing and voluble professional sharks, for Martian-Earthian Freight Lines, Inter-Space Express Co.’s, and Planetary Service Lines, etc.
To enhance their sales, certain combines of the sharks put up signs and billboards:
“This marks the spot where the great Martian Space Port will be built. Reliable backing. Buy stock now and realize millions before a year’s time,” and accompanying it, would be a vivid, florid picture of a gigantic space-ship, or perhaps a grotesque Martian, beckoning and urging.
But even as in former times, reliable companies sprang up to really promote the project. The common populace had a fling, and when they had spent themselves, science stepped in.
A scientific convention met at Moscow in 1976 and formed a body, which was pledged:
“To establish inter-space travel and communication between our inhabited neighbor, Mars, and the Earth, for the betterment of science and the good of the public.”
The body became a strictly scientific organization, and the charter members, after drawing up a series of regulations, which included very strenuous requirements for membership, opened their doors to all who were interested, who could satisfactorily prove their worth. In time, the organization became known as the Mars Klan and absorbed a number of efficient engineers and mechanicians, astronomers, and, in fact, recruits from every branch of science. But it is doubtful if the Klan would have made good, if it hadn’t gathered into its folds Dr. Svens, the one person responsible for the success of their plans.
Work was begun in earnest the following year. Dr. Svens promised to produce actinium within a decade; the engineers worked together on the construction of the Tellurian, which, after making six flights to Mars and back, was placed in the Moscow Museum, where if rests today, viewed daily by thousands. It embodied, of course, the original plans as made by Professor Billings back in 1945, altered as modern discoveries made necessary, and was fully constructed almost a year before Dr. Svens perfected his synthetic actinium process in 1981. The laboratory constructed by the Mars Klan was rated as the best in the world at the time. The astronomers also had their part to do: to dig up and record some 350 years of painstaking data on Mars and all features of Mars, and also to study with renewed intensity the planet through telescopes. All in all, much valuable experimental work was done before the actual accomplishment of their aims, and a great deal of by-product results was filed away for future use. And in the midst of all this, like a prophesy, came the arrival of Kastory Impan, The First Martian:
Gregory Stewart
WHEN the motorcop spoke into his little short wave transmitter to report to headquarters of the landing of a strange, green-hued sphere, he did not know the furore he caused in the mind of a certain man seated at the dials of his short-wave set. It had been more or less of a puzzle to the motorcop and the crew who came at his call, why, almost immediately after their arrival, the heads of the Ironwood Laboratory, branch 28 of the Federal Laboratory, also came up in a universal-power car. The scientists spoke of a mysterious call from someone who in a voice of anguish told them a Martian, the First Martian, had arrived on earth at First Bluff near Bessemer, begging them to hurry, because he was probably badly hurt. The writer of this article succeeded in piecing together the scattered facts after considerable trouble and revealing the little drama behind the arrival of the Pioneer.
A middle-aged, quiet, and quite well-to-do eccentric had bought a small brick house just on the northern edge of Bessemer and therein had established a small experimental radio laboratory. Small, insignificant, and unobtrusive, people had, after the usual run of gossip, almost completely forgotten him. In fact, that made it doubly hard to secure the necessary information about his activities, as no one knew of them. He simply had no friends.
He had listened steadily and eagerly to the Martian Signals at the time of their occurrence and had, for the purpose, built himself a long-wave set copied from the invention of the famous amateur who made possible radio reception from Mars. After the Martians had so s
uddenly ceased broadcasting in 1967, this experimenter, Gregory Stewart, put the useless set aside and turned back to his old field, short-wave experimenting. In 1970 he left for Europe, apparently to satisfy a “wanderlust.” From then he traveled to different regions of the globe, erratically skipping from city to city and place to place. His “wanderlust” satisfied, he returned to the laboratory in Bessemer and began work on an incompleted report, which the writer has procured, on the effects of the Heaviside Layer on radio waves. It is possible, almost certain, that completion of this work would have made broadcasting to Mars an accomplished thing, before the adoption of Martian long-wave methods. It is safe to identify the reception of strange signals on Mars from time to time after 1972 with the efforts of this obscure man, whose apparatus, however, was found completely demolished. It is surmised the Martian signaling had imbued him with the desire to retaliate.
But night after night, as he glanced now and then at the old high wave set, an irresistible impulse grew within him, a hunch, more or less, that the Martians would some time recommence signaling, perhaps in answer to his efforts to reach them. At last, almost driven to distraction by haunting thoughts of missing it when it came (this is gleaned from his incomplete and erratic diary) he devised a scheme whereby, should the Martians reestablish broadcasting to earth on the old wave length, about 30,000 meters, he would be notified by the flashing of a small light in an open circuit. He had revised a crystal set and along with the high-wave design, had inserted a very sensitive heat-indicator, and connected it to the break in the light circuit. If, at any time, the signals from Mars came again, the crystal, sensitized to it by the high-wave design, would send a minutely weak, and absolutely unbearable impulse through a coil surrounding the heat indicator. This heat indicator was the heart of the whole scheme. Several years back, an investigator had perfected a thermo-electric globe, made of a secret metal, which in response to the slightest amount of radio-heat (i. e. the border line waves between heat and radio) waves would close an electric circuit. The coil surrounding it produced this necessary radio-heat impulse when the signals came and as a result, the circuit would be closed, lighting the small lamp, and the observer would be appraised of the signaling. He would then simply have to connect up his big set and tune in. Several times the light had momentarily flashed, but at no time had there been a permanent and lasting broadcast; probably some accidental effect of earthly experimenters.