The Angry Red Planet Page #2

Safety margin adequate.

I wish my parents

could have seen this.

They spent their lives

making it possible.

Mars--

the red planet.

Our destination.

Look, both moons are visible.

Hey, 2 moons--

what a place for romance, huh?

And songwriters.

2 moons, da da da da da

da da da!

Let's close your mouth

and the port guards, huh?

No use getting the view plates

scratched up by meteor dust.

I know, I know, okay, okay!

MR-1 to EB-9.

MR-1 to EB-9.

Come in, please.

Oh, Sam, get it all

on tape, will ya?

I've got it on the

auxiliary tape, sir.

MR-1, this is EB-9. Over.

MR-1 to EB-9,

condition A.

Condition A.

Everything's under control.

Over.

Well, we're still in

our own back yard.

The radio time-lag is

only a few seconds.

Wait till it's a

couple of hours.

Our conversation is going

to be a real drag then.

MR-1,

base computations

confirm report.

You are on course,

on schedule.

Hey, you look real

good up there.

Over and out!

Thanks a lot.

Over and out!

Good old mother hen

watching over her

4 little chicks.

We're thousands of

miles out in space.

It's hard to believe.

Yeah, any minute now,

I expect to see

General Treegar come through

that hatch and say,

"All right,

"enough work for today.

"Let's everybody

go out to Tony's

"and have a little drink."

Well, that would be a

little hard to do.

Tony's is 30,000

miles from here.

Well, we wanna be able

to face reality on our watch.

Come on, Sam.

Let's get some rest, huh?

Okay, Professor, I dig.

It's really happening.

You know, Irish,

reminds me of when I was a kid.

I can just see you.

I remember when I

got my first dog.

I was crazy about that dog.

I wanted him to

sleep in my room,

but my family wouldn't allow it.

I used to go downstairs

a dozen times during the night

to make sure that he was there.

Then you were sure.

Uh-huh.

And pretty soon, people will be

just as sure of space travel

as I was of my dog...

And as I'd like to be of you.

Makes Broadway look

like a dark alley.

When we get back, Irish...

How about exploring

that dark alley...

Together?

You, colonel, sir,

may have a date.

MR-1 to EB-9.

MR-1 to EB-9.

Report 7-9

time--

17 days, 11:
03 hours.

Position--

"Triangle Easy Fox Baker."

On course, on schedule.

Condition A.

Over and out.

Hey, when's chow, huh?

Comin' up. Come on, Tom.

You can help me

with the rations.

I'd rather be carving

a thick steak at Tony's.

Make it medium rare

and I'll join you.

Will you take a rain check?

If it won't bounce.

Hmm.

Here we are between 2 dots.

We could miss either one of 'em,

and never know it.

Mars rocket 1, ration B.

Mars...

The angry red planet.

Sounds so foreboding,

doesn't it?

Mars!

Ancient God of war.

Afraid, Irish?

A little.

Apprehensive, I guess.

Oh, we all are

or we wouldn't be human.

I know this is a funny way

for a scientist to feel, but...

I wonder if some

things aren't better

unknown?

That's what they said

on the Santa Maria

before they discovered

the new world.

By mistake.

You know, Irish,

you're the first scientist

I've ever known

with lovely, long red hair.

And you're the first pilot

I've ever gone to Mars with.

And listen,

my name is Iris,

not Irish.

I never know if

you're calling me

by name or nationality.

When I call you by name,

you'll know it.

"So Oola ran screaming across

"the burning martian sands

"as the monster Ongola

"relentlessly pursued her,

"his 5 arms reaching

hungrily for her.

"To be continued next week."

And that was the last issue

before we took off.

Mars...

Martians, monsters.

I wonder if I'll ever

get to see that next issue.

Eb-9 to MR-1.

Report number 7-6.

Orbiting Mars.

Repeat-- orbiting Mars.

Landing operation beginning.

Rockets reversing for landing.

Condition A.

Recording tapes running.

Gravity pull-- 0.38,

earth standard.

0.38, E.S.

Speed-- 3.1 miles per second.

Deceleration ratio-- 17.5.

Deceleration ratio-- 17.5.

Atmosphere density

resistance factor--

0-0, 1-2.

Resistance factor-- 0-0, 1-2.

Drift-- 0.

Drift-- 0.

Longitudinal axis-- 100 percent.

Longitudinal axis-- 100 percent.

Vertical deviation-- 0.

Vertical deviation-- 0.

Ready automatic braking rockets.

Automatic braking rockets on.

Instrument lights.

Stand by.

Hold onto your hats, kids!

Here we go!

Rockets on!

Well, shall we go out

and claim the planet

in the name of Brooklyn?

Not yet, Sam.

Open the viewports, Tom.

Okay.

Turn on the outside mike, Sam.

Yes, sir.

Strange.

Nothing moves.

Everything seems to be...

Waiting.

Shoot anything that moves and

pick up anything that doesn't.

You know something, I'm

gonna take that advice,

especially on the first count.

Turn up the volume, Sam.

Well,

come on, Iris.

Let's get to work

on our tests, huh?

You take the microbe count

and radiation.

I'll work on the

atmospheric composition,

temperature.

Keep a sharp lookout, Sammy.

Anything moves, yell.

You know, it's so

quiet out there,

if anything does move,

I'm gonna jump right

out of my skin.

Something will.

With all that

vegetation out there,

there's bound to be

something alive.

You mean, like 5-armed Ongolas?

What?

Don't worry, Sammy.

We O'Bannions are charmed.

Yeah, but maybe us Jacobs ain't?

You know, my dad,

when I was a kid,

told me about my grandfather.

He had sort of a 6th sense,

particularly in Indian country.

When there were any

Indians around,

his ears would begin to twitch.

Runs in the family.

Oh, well, I am reassured,

colonel, sir.

Only, do me a small

favor, will ya?

If your ears start to twitch,

will you let me know fast?

I'll twitch with you.

Anything move yet, Sam?

Not a thing.

Stay here.

Hey!

I told you not to leave

that thing layin' around.

Iris tripped over it.

She dropped a tray

of test tubes.

Boy, I'm sorry, colonel.

Aw, that's all right, Sammy.

No surprises, Tom.

The atmosphere is

pretty much like

we thought-- thin,

extremely thin.

Not enough oxygen to sustain us,

but undoubtedly enough

for some kind of

native animal life.

Well, like you said, Professor--

no surprises.

You seen anything yet, Sam?

Just those frozen vegetables.

Any sounds?

Not a peep.

If those martians are out there,

they must be invisible.

No movement at all.

"Weirdsville," as my

grandmother used to say.

Keep your eyes open, huh?

Yes, sir.

We've landed near the

Equatorial belt.

Now, if there is any

native intelligence

around here, it should

be in this area.

I think you must be right.

Sorry about the sound effects.

Aw, forget it, Irish.

This crazy silence

and lack of movement's

gotten us all.

It doesn't make

any sense, Sammy.

Something has got to move.

What's the matter, colonel?

Your ears twitch?

Aw, just a hunch.

Yeah? What?

I know there's

something out there.

Sure, like the

invisible martian?

Are you certain

the outside mikes are on, Sam?

Full volume.

You know,

the atmosphere is very rare.

It wouldn't conduct

sound too well.

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