From Beyond the Blue Planet

by Trevor Palmer

  “That’s where we’ve stolen a march on you Yanks, the Chinese and the A-rabs. Our second generation colonists were genetically modified, first with operations and then with a kind of breeding program. All went into it quite willingly … it was an exciting concept for a lot of people with the right adventurous spirit. They’ve replaced the intelligent creatures who were the real Martians and who all died out umpteen years ago due to the sudden changes in climatic conditions. Well, you know all about that.”

  “I didn’t know about this new project though, Dave. D’you mean they can just stroll about without masks or space suits? How has it all been kept secret? I find this hard to believe. You sure someone … I know what college kids are like … hasn’t been pullin’ your tweeter?”

  “It’s true enough, believe me. The reason they kept the lid on this was for the same reason you’ve been trying to keep a lot of your food production centres … and techniques … hush, hush. The food mafia. What they get to know about, they get to take over, sooner or later. The lead we had over them on this was that, despite all those credits they’ve got sloshin’ around, even they couldn’t afford to get involved in a space program. And they would have to acquire all the technical knowhow to operate a space launch. Mighty hard for a bunch o’ trigger-happy crooks, you know!”

  Seth was staggered. Ginny was fully awake now and, as she looked at him, she became aware that something he had just heard had rocked him back on his heels.

  “And where do I come? You having me genetically modified too?” Ginny stared at him but a cackle came over the phone.

  “Nah, my friend. You would be part of the team, either space flights control and development or … if you prefer … Martian food development. Growing systems in a Martian environment and all that. They say they’re struggling to find the right calibre guys for all the work they’ve got on.”

  “So, I don’t have to go to Mars then?”

  “It would be useful if you could but space flight places are at a premium. And it is a nine month trip or longer you know … that is, just getting there. Trip places are now reserved for those intending to stay.”

  “Okay … let’s move on, but first … how do you know all this, Dave? Aren’t you a bodyguard for the general anymore? Where do you fit in?”

  “No. I got to hear what the general was planning for Keelotron … Sorry I didn’t get the opportunity to tip you off on that one, Seth pal. I’m not under his control anymore. I’m on the security team here at Cambridge. But, to move on as you say … get over here pronto. Don’t bother with non-essential personal things. Use the robot’s pod and get the three of you … or should that be, the four of you? … over here and up to Cambridge. Let me know just before you arrive there and I’ll meet you. I’ll have your accommodation arranged and I’ll help you all get settled in. Think about what you’d like to do and you can soon be shown the ins and outs and decide if that’s what you really want. That okay?”

  “That’s absolutely fine, Dave. I’m really looking forward to seeing you again. Is there a good place in Cambridge that cooks a mean steak?”

  “Sure is … and there’s one that does a mean banana flavoured milk-shake too.”

  Seth chuckled, his mood considerably lightened. “See you soon, buddy.”

  Chapter 8

  MARGO It was well into the long, summer holiday break that English schools still enjoyed. Thus there was no pressure to get Kevin into a school immediately but, never-theless, Dave helped the Hellmans to find a suitable school to deliver their son’s secondary education. It was his birthday on August 17. He would be eleven.

  When the three discussed it, Kevin was on a high. “Will it be different here in the UK?” he asked. “Will I still be called a Freshman?” Seth knew a little of the British system. “No; they don’t use that name over here. You’ll just be ‘the new boy’ to older kids. And you won’t be going up to grade six. You’ll be starting at a secondary school in year seven. Don’t worry, you’ll soon pick it up.”

  Ginny chipped in, “And those British kids’ll be just as curious about the way it was in the States. You will be the one to tell ‘em.” She grinned at him and reached across to ruffle his hair but, although he smiled at her, he pulled away. Ah, she thought, he’s beginning to think ‘older’ already.

  “Pity my leg won’t have finished growing by the time I start,” he grumbled. “The other kids will see it all.”

  “That new piece Kee made will allow you to do things they can’t.” Seth tried to sooth him on that but he knew the way of changing rooms when getting stripped down for sport. Kev would be expected to take part and the new limb Kee had made would miraculously make that possible. Incredible how it adjusted to allow for the new growth, Seth thought.

  Seth was also ‘a new kid on the block’ and he thought of this as he was shown around the section of Cambridge where he would work. He had plumped for the Flight Control section of MARGO knowing that biology or bio-chemistry wasn’t really his thing.

  His new boss was a complete contrast from General Ceri-Baker or most of the bright and eager younger generation who buzzed around the offices and labs at Caltech. At first Seth was not impressed – Dave was not openly involved in any of this, Seth had just received a phone call, presumably for an administrator or other senior member of the team, asking him to be at Doctor Rankin’s office at ten o’clock prompt the next day. This then was Doctor Rankin …

  He held out an open palm aimed at the chair in front of his big, shiny desk. “Good morning, Mister Hellman. Is it mister?”

  “Yes. No other title, I’m afraid. I’m pleased to meet you, Doctor Rankin. Do you think you’ll be able to fit me in somewhere?”

  “I like to decide that after talking to a candidate but, looking at your CV or resumé as you Americans call it … we have to use Latin, you French, strange don’t you think? … I’m quite optimistic. How’s your maths regarding flight trajectories and orbital paths of manmade satellites?”

  “I would say ‘pretty good’. But you surely have all those worked out and stored for Earth to Mars flights. Unless you’re looking at new landing areas and … maybe, even using new space craft.”

  “A shrewd guess. It’s the latter. Just a possibility, of course. Thing called a ‘pod’. Know of it?”

  “Ah, doctor. Now I see where this is going. So presumably you know about my robot … and its space vessel. Who told you?”

  “Mister Hellman, let me put you in the picture a little … especially as we will be working together.” He paused and watched keenly for Seth’s response. It took the American just seconds to nod and smile. “Here at Cambridge we have developed one of the most sophisticated listening systems … listening as in ‘snooping’ … ever known. When your general … what a name, Algernon! … picks at the cuff of his dress uniform, we can hear the rustle of the elastique wool fabric it’s made from.”

  “And what do you hear when I pick at my nose?” Seth grinned, testing his new boss.

  “We hear the wheels of your brain spinning around as you devise some new scheme like the Eye-am project. Did you ever find out what happened to it, by-the-way?”

  “I didn’t get the latest from my team on that one but my guess is, the ship that brought my robot into our system destroyed or disabled it.”

  After this two-way examination of each other, Seth looked once again but more carefully at the face opposite to him. Rankin looked close to seventy. His face was that of one who shuns sunlight or had long been behind a desk – pale, greyish and very lined; bags under eyes which looked as though their colour was leaking away; uneven teeth stained from pipe tobacco; and above the face, sparse untidy wisps of greying-but-once-sandy hair. The crows feet at the eyes and the slightly quirky ends to the thin lips gave the lie to a boring, dry face however.

  Seth felt that in only 15 minutes he had come to know his man.

  “If you’d like to come along with me, Mister Hellman, I’ll take you along to one of our operating rooms. It
’s a sort of laboratory cum offices and it is also crammed with surveillance monitors and all that kind of thing. It’s new and, I’m afraid, quite out of keeping with the usual Cambridge style. Actually, though, it may possibly make you feel more at home with its Caltech similarities. There’s a couple of chaps in there who you would be working with, so I’d like you to start getting to know them.” He stood up slowly and inelegantly and paused for a second or two as though he had low bloodpressure problems, then he got into gear and Seth followed him. The American had a few questions but decided they would keep so he maintained a respectful silence at the doctor’s elbow.

  Just as Caltech had had its new military complex built onto older buildings which were more pleasing to the eye, so the surveillance and monitoring complex which incorporated MARGO had been tacked on to the well-known ancient stone buildings of Cambridge University. Here the contrast was even more of a jolt to died-in-the-wool English historians. Fortunately Seth wasn’t in that elite band and he took it all in his stride. He wasn’t a peasant by any means but his interest was more concentrated on the people he would have to work with than the buildings in which they would operate. Never-the-less, he had already pegged Doctor Rankin as being almost a part of the historical Cambridge.

  Rankin conjured up a plastic swipe card and then they were through into a breath-taking array of technical equipment almost hiding desks, benches and walls. Much of this was attended by a wide mix of types, male and female in about a 50:50 ratio, young to oldish at about 80:20 and conventional-looking to oddballs at about 25:75. Seth vowed to wear one of his more outlandish Caltech tee-shirts and join the 75%.

  Quickly they were in a small office. Its door was open and a very portly, long-haired man sat perched on the only bit of desk-top which was not covered in books or papers. He looked thoughtful and had been discussing something with a neat woman half his size, dressed in thin summer trousers and a pale blue shirt – open to her small breasts. She was standing. They had looked round as Seth and the doctor entered …

  “Gosh! Your powers of telepathy are increasing every day, Doctor. Did you catch the full drift of why I wanted you here?”

  “A communication from Mars? They all want to come home?”

  The woman chuckled, a sexy sound. “The first part is correct. The second may prove to be right later.”

  “I came to introduce our latest recruit to the asylum … Seth Hellman from the Americas, Caltech to be more precise.”

  The woman appraised Seth with bright, deep-blue eyes. “Heard of you,” she said. “A thing called Eye-am.”

  The big fellow managed to slide his bum off the desk and he reached out a plump paw to shake Seth’s hand. “We have a puzzler already today so another brain to come up with a solution can’t be bad. I’m Roger … not the lodger; just Tredwick. The one who’d like to think she’s sexy is Elaine.” Why he left off her second name, Seth couldn’t guess.

  “So … are you going to tell us what this puzzle is, Roger?” the doctor said dryly, “Or have I got to use my super powers again? As the designated person in charge here, I do have a strange desire to be kept informed of all that is happening. One never knows, it may be useful to drop it out at a party, especially if there is a minister present.”

  Seth enjoyed this kind of banter so he decided to risk joining in. “Is that ‘minister of the church’ or ‘minister of the crown’, Doctor Rankin?”

  His new boss pursed his lips, “Because of the virtuous life I have led, I am not too concerned if a minister of the church is there. Now, if it is the other species … I find it quite useful to suck up to them occasionally.”

  Seth could not imagine Doctor Rankin sucking up to anyone.

  Tredwick found his spot on the desk again and began to explain. “We had a message from the Martians earlier. A code one.” He looked at Seth. “That’s an emergency transmission requiring that we look into it and reply asap. Okay. This is the gist of it … A singleton examining rocks some distance from a colony or other worker called in to control with some yarn about a huge creature approaching him. Then silence. Control are investigating but, inevitably of course, some of those given to fantasizing are letting their imaginations run riot and think a real Martian has come up from the depths.”

  “I presume they haven’t got to the singleton yet. Description?” Doctor Rankin’s grey face was tight and thoughtful.

  Elaine supplied more detail. “When he called in, according to control he sounded panicky. Description was either burbled or control weren’t really ready for an emergency call so their interpretation of what was said was not too clear …”

  “But?” from the doctor.

  “But … a rough description passed on to us by control said, ‘a very big humanoid; dark skin. Silvery, mesh-like clothing.’ …”

  “Wearing a mask or helmet or free-breathing?”

  “Probably couldn’t see that for sure … had a huge black beard.”

  Seth jolted into super-alert. He tried to recall something buried in the answers he’d had from Kee. Yes! Hadn’t his master, Keelon, been pursued by a people from their world called Chasers, a kind of space police force … or were they more like bounty hunters? Kee had never met one – he’d just missed that opportunity when he’d been ejected in the pod. But Keelon had passed on to his ReeRee unit a description Keelon had passed on to his ReeRee unit a description dimensional solar system where he hoped to hide. Weren’t they said to be something like his master, Keelon, but bigger and with large, black beards? Yes, his recall of his talk with Kee crystalized in his mind. And his next thought was, why had the Chasers landed on Mars and how long before they came here. How good were their hunting skills? Probably considerable given they were professionals, as it were, and with a very advanced technology at their command. But, what did they really want? It must be Kee … or the material of which he was formed. All this flashed through Seth’s mind before the others continued with their speculations…

  The doctor suggested, “Hallucination? We’ve had them before. Breakdown of adaptation to the Martian atmosphere … faulty operation or genetic program malfunction. Eupnea not functioning properly.”

  There was a pause while this was given due thought but Seth knew he had to put them in the picture …

  “I know I’ve only just arrived in town … and you don’t know much about me … or my robot. Can we find a more comfortable room and, if you wish, bring along also anyone else who should be clued up on this …”

  “This?” from Elaine.

  “Yeah. From what you’ve just said about this thing on Mars I think you need to know something more. Something that will affect how we tackle the, er, threat which I reckon we’re goin’ta have to deal with. And only I among the team you have here know what is likely to be happening on Mars. What we’re goin’ta have to, maybe, fight.”

  “Fight!” growled Roger. “I don’t do ‘fighting’.

  “A better room for our mini conference?” pursued Seth.

  The big bum slipped off the desk again and they all followed Roger Tredwick, weaving in and around the piled-up benches and their equipment. He signalled another two to join them. The doctor became just one of the group but, like the others, he was keen to hear what Seth was going to unload on them.

  ………. 83 million miles away from the small conference room where five of the MARGO team waited for Seth to begin, six humans who had adapted to life on Mars also waited for someone confronting them to say something. Or was this frightening monster before them a ‘someone’ or a ‘something’?

  At just under 15 foot tall and with a black beard almost as long as the trembling new Martians it faced, it was an apparition from hell. Narrowed dark eyes glittered from slitted eyelids under heavy, overhanging brows. The eyes flicked from one to another of the six captives, for that is what they were. They knew one of their number had been slain out in nearby hills and that several more on the base had been mercilessly killed too. A simple finger-held rod had achieved that,
melting their flesh with a strange pulsating wave. Now the captor pushed a small, irregular-shaped container onto the table between them. The giant’s lips twitched repeatedly and the container did the speaking. The six switched their mesmerised gazes from the giant to the thing delivering words as though it were a living creature.

  “I speak through a translator unit. Simply, I do not know your words but this device I have is used to see your mind-pictures. That is how all races, all creatures, speak. In pictures. It is later that we are taught to make noise-sounds for each picture. An unnecessary process some have found. Leader, raise your hand.”

  Bill McGovern slowly and reluctantly lifted a hand. “You will tell me, Leader, where the ReeRee unit, robot, or whatever you know it as, is on your planet. I put a picture of it in your mind … Now, to show that it is of great importance that you tell me this information, if you do not do so I will terminate the creature at your side.” The finger-held stick moved slightly to point at the female on Bill McGovern’s left.

  “For, pity’s sake, mon. I … none of us have seen this thing. There are no reports from other colonies either. They would … “

  It was Bill’s wife at his side and her trembling made the table shake. Suddenly she began a scream which then died in her throat. She pitched over and fell heavily to the floor. Everyone smelt burning flesh.

  “You cold-blooded, evil …” Bill found his thoughts distorting and he stopped speaking.

  “Mmmmh,” said the device on the table. “Let me explain. The robot I have pictured into your minds came here in a space vessel. We … my former commander and I … know that it was ejected and that it travelled inwards … towards your sun, that is. There are other planets further in but there would be no point sending it to one of those. Logic says it would be the first one past the gas giants. This is that planet. Conditions here are ideal for the ReeRee unit. Why travel further to a hotter world with an unsettled outer crust … volcanic activity? It would risk being destroyed accidentally even if it were a later, improved model. However, it is a simple device, used mainly to be a companion to a gern and, perhaps, to help with mundane daily tasks. No, it is here. But I do not wish to search all over this planet though I have that capacity. You, Leader, will tell me where it is. If it is with another of your colonies, you will communicate with them and ascertain which one. You will be given several rotations of this planet to tell me where but I will terminate one of you every rotation where you have still not told me what I wish to know. Are my thought pictures clear?”