They assembled at the foot of the ridged section of the almost vertical wall of rock, thankful for a means of escape from the ravine, but not looking forward to the arduous climb ahead.
‘This is just a bit too fortuitous for my liking,’ said Paul, reaching up to grip the first of the ledges, ‘are you sure it’s not one of these bloody illusions?’
‘You’ve got your hand on it.’ retorted Hans. ‘What’s it feel like?’
‘I don’t think we’ll find any illusions in this area.’ Greg said, trying to keep the situation calm for the daunting climb ahead. ‘Don’t forget, the whole complex has shut down, so there’ll be no need for protection now.
‘What I suggest is that one of us goes up for a few metres and drives in a short pole, belaying a cord to it, and then goes on up a few metres more. That way, if he slips, there’ll only be a short way to fall. At the top, he can throw down a long cord, and we can all climb up.’
‘How about the trolley?’ asked Ben, ‘we’ll never get that up, it’ll catch on the ridges.’
‘One of us will go up with it, easing it over any obstructions, the others will be at the top hauling on the cord.’ Greg looked around to see if all agreed. As no one could think of a better plan, it was accepted, the thought of the long walk back to the complex clinching the idea.
It was decided that Paul should make the initial climb, armed with the remaining short poles, of which there were only a few left, and two lengths of cord, while the others helped him up onto the first ledge.
‘The rock’s very smooth,’ Paul called down, ‘and slippery where the dust has collected on it.’
‘Take your time.’ Greg answered calmly. ‘There’s no rush.’ wishing there wasn’t.
The others were getting fidgety by the time Paul finally gained the top of the climb, his tiny figure silhouetted against the deepening pink skyline. It was a reminder that the day was drawing to a close, and there would be little time in which to find the Lander and sanctuary from the deep chill of the coming Martian night.
‘Right John, you’re next.’ said Greg, realizing that John was more likely to panic than the others.
‘I’ll go with the trolley.’ Hans offered, knowing full well the others didn’t relish the idea of manoeuvring a dead weight over the ridges and ledges which constituted the climb.
Paul, John, and Ben had reached the top of the ravine when Greg began his ascent, leaving Hans with his trolley to come up last.
Despite the low gravity, it was hard work hauling himself up the near vertical surface of the ravine, and an exhausted Greg, having reached the others, looked down at the minuscule figure of Hans and his trolley in the ravine,
‘OK, Hans, we’ve got the cord attached to you, so you’re safe, just concentrate on getting the trolley over the ridges.’
They didn’t see the withering look from Hans as they stood on their safe vantage point on the plateau. He was the one who was going to sweat in a cumbersome space suit.
It was a hot, tired, and rather sweaty Hans who finally appeared over the edge of the plateau. The eager hands that grabbed him and his trolley, were followed by broad grins and much shoulder slapping.
‘Don’t want to do that too often.’ was all he could say, after getting his breath back.
Rescuing the long cord and abandoning the stakes they had driven into the rock face, the team set off heading north along the edge of the ravine. Now they had to find the Lander.
‘If we keep going along the edge, we should come to one of the poles Hans thoughtfully put in on our way out,’ said Greg, ‘and if not, we’ll recognize the ruined buildings or the slope we went down to the complex.’ He nearly added ‘I hope,’ but thought better of it.
As the sky changed from its normal pink to the dusky blue of evening, the first of the poles came into sight, and a sigh of relief echoed around the audio units of the travellers.
‘Well done Hans.’ said Paul. ‘You’ve saved us the long walk to the complex.’ The others chorused their appreciation of his thoughtfulness with the marker poles, little knowing he had put them in for his own peace of mind, not for any altruistic reasons.
The welcome sight of the Lander raised a small cheer from most of the team as it hove into view. At first it was just a smudge on a raised portion of the plateau, and then gained in solidity as they drew nearer.
‘Do we go back to our old site, or spend the night here?’ asked John, who then wondered why he had asked such an inane question in the first place.
‘We stay here,’ replied Greg, ‘and go up to the orbiter first thing, there’s little point in returning to the old site, it’ll only use up time and fuel unnecessarily.
‘Besides which, I think it may be a little safer here, as this area seems to be clear of any alien activity because the complex is shut down. If we go back to the original site, apart from wasting time, we know the complex is active, and therefore may try another attack on us.’
Hans and Paul remained outside the Lander to disconnect the oxygen and water extractor and stow it away ready for their flight back up to the orbiter next day, while the others went on board to attend to other necessary chores.
The extractor had done its job well, all the oxygen tanks were full and an ample supply of water had been processed and purified. These supplies would be taken up to the orbiter for use on the return journey to Earth, thus saving the transporting of such bulky materials on the outward journey, and proving the efficiency of the system.
The team, having divested themselves of their space suits, and enjoyed a somewhat meagre shower in the tiny cubicle provided for such purposes, sat down to a well earned meal.
‘What I don’t quite understand,’ said Ben, slightly incoherent because of a mouthful of food, ‘is why all those bones were just in that one place, apart from the lone skull we found, which could have been a normal burial. Surely the Martians didn’t dump ’em down there, and if they did, why?’
‘Without an extensive amount of research, we’ll never know, but what I think might have happened,’ said Greg, ‘is that when the Martians landed here, and set up their dwellings, these creatures, being native to the planet, began nosing around. By the size of the bones, they must have been terrifying to behold, and possibly aggressive into the bargain. Something that big isn’t going to be easily herded, so I think they used the illusion screens to do that, but God knows what pictures they used to frighten them with.’
‘How come the rift wasn’t filled with wind blown sand?’ asked John, ‘I would have expected the bones to have been covered long ago, and nothing showing.’
‘By the shape of the rift, I would think it more likely that the sand would be blown out of it, the wind must cut up through there like a hurricane. I did notice there was sand down below the hole I made when fishing the bones out, so maybe some of the bones got covered, which leaves the open question, how deep do the bones go?’
‘When you look at the amount of bones we saw, and the rift may go on around the bend for all we know, that’s one hell of a lot of animals,’ Hans chipped in, ‘there must have been thousands of ’em, or even millions. A bit unethical to wipe out a whole species though.’
There was a pause in the conversation while the next course was passed round. When they had all received a plateful, and decided what it was, Ben began again with,
‘What about that skeleton we found? Martian?’
John swallowed, opened his mouth and was about to answer
‘It would seem logical,’ Greg said, raising his voice a little, ‘but I have a feeling that it isn’t. Remember how the tools fitted our hands, and the benches were just right for our height?'
‘I noticed several other things which made me think that the Martians were about our size, that skeleton was considerably taller, and would have been uncomfortable sitting at the eating benches we found, let alone climbing the spiral staircase in the launching chamber.
‘I don’t really see why we should have been the first peopl
e to have visited this planet after the Martians left, after all, they found it without much trouble, and despite the so called experts, I reckon there’s stacks of life out there.’
‘What you're saying, in effect,' said John, sounding a bit disgruntled, ‘is that there are many different races, flitting about all over the universe, visiting different planets at will. I think all the remains we’ve found originated here, after all, no one has ever proved that life exists anywhere else except Earth, and God knows, they’ve been looking long enough. We’ve never once picked up a radio message, or seen an alien ship, and don’t give me that flying saucer nonsense, that’s never been proved either.’
‘Oh, come on John,’ Ben said, ‘just because something hasn’t been proved, doesn’t mean that it can’t exist. We didn’t know about the Martians ’till we got here, and you can’t dispute their existence. Look at the data that's been collected, we've found many solar systems with planets around them capable of supporting life, so why shouldn't other life forms exist?'
‘What about the distance from Orion, where you think they came from, it would take many lifetimes to reach our system.’ John was beginning to wish he hadn’t started the argument. ‘Unless you think they’ve perfected suspended animation.’ he added sarcastically.
‘You are making the same mistake so many have. You can’t judge other civilizations by the standards we use on ourselves. There’s no reason why their technology shouldn’t have taken off in a completely different direction. Take the illusion screens, we can’t do that, and Hans’s laser cutter, we’re nowhere near them technologically. Let’s face it John, they existed, so did their expertise, so who’s to say there aren't more of ’em out there somewhere with technologies totally different to ours?’
John, whose argument had been shredded, was not looking very happy.
‘You both could be right,’ Greg intervened, sensing the rising tension, ‘we can only base our assumptions on the data we have found, and I doubt very much if we have found all of it yet. Future expeditions will uncover much more, and then we shall be in a position to put all the bits together to make a complete story.’ He quickly changed the subject.
‘Has anyone bothered to check and see if the refuelling tank has arrived yet?’
‘Yes, I have,’ said Hans, ‘it’s the first thing I did when we came aboard. It’s in orbit one kilometre above the Lander and about five kilometres trailing, we should be able to move it up into position quite easily. What do we do with the empty shell?’
‘We’ll park it in a stable orbit, I don’t like the idea of contaminating the planet more than we have to. There should be a long life beacon on it, perhaps you’d check Hans. Then we can leave it for others to use as raw material, should they need it.’
Having successfully defused the situation, Greg steered the conversation onto lighter things, and they all retired for the night in a friendly, if not jovial mood.
As dawn broke, the team began the process of preparing the Lander for its flight up to the orbiter, and the long journey home to Earth.
With everyone strapped in securely, Paul took the controls and eased the Lander up into the Martian dawn just as an odd mean looking mechanical device came scrambling over the ridge, heading for the place the Lander had vacated.
It had taken a very long time to reach its destination because it had come from the first complex the team had explored, and it was armed to the teeth with some very unpleasant weapons indeed.
A very, very, long time ago, deep under the Martian landscape, a fault developed in a circuit which fed information to the Sequencer.
This sudden interruption of data flow caused the Sequencer to stop issuing instructions to the Control Executive which then shut down, going into ‘safe mode’, to protect itself and any subsequent circuits from erroneous actions, and consequently, the Event.
Consequently, any further operations which were needed to bring about the Event, were automatically put on hold.
Normally, such a happening would cause the Analyser to switch on, and begin checking out the electronic circuits of the Sequencer, and any other devices further down the line.
If a fault were found, the Analyser would re-route the interrupted data flow so that the Sequencer could complete its task, sending the necessary instructions on to the Control Executive, which would then eventually bring about the Event.
A tiny silver connection pin in the Analyser's signal input circuit had worked loose, and the necessary message ordering it to switch on, didn’t arrive.
After a prescribed amount of time, the Power Plant, sensing that very little energy was required, automatically reduced its output to a mere trickle.
Just enough power was generated to supply the needs of the Proximity Sensors, so that if any movement was detected in the environment, the system would know about it, and the Discriminators could be energized to determine what caused the movement, and what should be done about it.
This state of affairs prevailed for a very long time indeed, until one day a strange vessel was detected, far out in space, approaching the planet.
It didn’t respond to any of the querying signals the Identification Monitor sent out, so the Power Plant stepped up its output to cope with the extra demand the Defence System might require in order to protect the Complex, should the need arise.
The strange unidentified vessel landed in a protected zone, but was ignored for a period of time as it didn’t pose a threat of any kind, until, that is, it began making deep holes near the Complex.
A Defender was sent out to remove the threat, and having located the drilling device, proceeded to disrupt its molecule structure so that it disintegrated into fine particles, which were blown away on the wind, leaving no trace of that which had been.
The odd little organic creatures, which didn’t register on the Defender’s data base as belonging to the planet, were herded into the holes they had made by the use of illusion screens, and the holes were then back filled using the material they had removed in the first place. The threat to the Complex had been removed, and the integrity of the planet’s surface restored.
The Defence System then shut down, with just the Proximity Sensors keeping a watchful eye on things until many hundreds, or was it thousands, of years later. The Defence System didn’t keep records of the passing years.
This time, the visitors were little mechanical devices, which just went around looking at the environment, poking at rocks with their little probes. One, a little later, actually collected samples of what passed for Martian soil, but as a mechanical, it was very inefficient, and the Defence System would have felt sorry for its pathetic efforts, if the System had been capable of feelings.
The years rolled on, and then came a larger interloper, which also didn’t respond to the signals of the Identifying Monitor, so the Defence System was powered up again in readiness to repel any threat.
The main device stayed orbiting the planet, while a much smaller spidery thing descended to the surface, disgorging small organic creatures, which again, the System couldn’t identify as being of the planet.
No action was taken against these creatures until they began probing around the entrance to one of the Complexes, and then they were disabled, along with their vehicle.
The orbiting vehicle proved to be a bit more of a problem, but a pulsed energy beam finally changed its orbit, and it drifted away into space, never to return.
Shortly after that, another vehicle visited the red planet, and the Defence System allowed it to reach the surface without hindrance, waiting to see what the little organic creatures would do. It needed more information to add to its data base in order to more accurately assess any possible future threats.
It was only when they had penetrated one of the Complexes that the system decided that they were indeed a potential threat to the incomplete cycle of the Event, and so they were dispatched along with their vehicles, and peace reigned once more.
When the next expedition arrived, t
he System was up and ready, watching every move and accumulating data from the actions of the little organics.
Unfortunately, the System was suffering from the passing years, and some sections were not really up to the job any more, especially those circuits which assessed and supplied corrective data to the Defence System.
When the Defence System finally assessed the situation to be dangerous to the incomplete Event, it tried to herd the organics into a position where they could be dispatched, but they managed to circumnavigate the illusion screens, and penetrated the Complex.
As they did no damage to the Complex, the System became confused as to what it should do next, and the repulsion of the organics was half hearted and disorganized in the extreme. Several attempts were made to remove them and their vehicle, but to no avail, and confusion within the System grew to a point where it spent most of its computing time trying to assess itself for errors.
One of the organics located the Analyser, and administered a physical blow to the casing with one of its mobilizing appendages, and this constituted aggression. Now the System knew what to do, but before it could go into attack mode, the Analyser, its faulty input pin connection remade, took over, commandeering all possible resources to assess what had happened to the incomplete Event cycle.
Having obtained all information possible, the Analyser eventually relinquished total control of the System, and got on with its analysing, but by then, the System found the organics had left the area, and were no longer a threat.
The Analyser carefully checked every circuit and component it could find, looking for the fault which had initiated its action in the first place, and having found the failure, re-routed the sequence signals so that the Event could eventually be completed.
Several times, Scanners reported the strange organics roaming about in different areas, but as they were doing no damage to anything, the Defence System ignored them, for the time being.
After aeons of time, the Sequencer resumed sending commands to the Control Executive and various other devices, all vital to the completion of the Event.
The Martian Enigma Page 13