Robert Silverberg - Lost Race of Mars

“Maybe they really want to be friends now.”

He shook his head. “The quick change is too fishy. They envy us because we have a better per than any of them has.”

“I think you’ve got a chip on your shoulder,” Sally scolded him. “How do you know what they think?”

“I can tell,” Jim said.

They let the discussion drop there. In the next two weeks it was hard to know whether Jim was right. Most of the time is seemed that Ted and Done Bruce and the others were being honestly friendly. Jim and Sally no longer felt like outcasts. They visited the homes of their classmates and had frequent visitors themselves.

Mitten was always the center of attention whenever anyone came over. The frisky desert kitten performed very well. It was more intelligent than an Earth cat, and quickly learned all kind of tricks. Mitten would stand up to beg for a scrap of food, would roll over when ordered, would even do a little dance on his hind legs. Not even a dog could learn tricks as fast as Mitten did.

But though the colonist boys and girls were nice enough most of the time, it was a different story whenever the topic of the Old Martians came up.

“It any Old Martians were still alive, they would have gotten in touch with us by now, anyway,” Don Bruce argued.

“Maybe not,” Jim countered. “Maybe they don’t want anything to do with the colony.”

But the argument always wound up the same way. The colonist children insisted stubbornly that the Old Martians were extinct, and that it was a waste of time and money to bother searching for them. Jim and Sally stoutly maintained that there might be some surprises in store, but the only result was laughter.

At the same time, Jim and Sally began to realize that their father’s research was not going well. He put in much time in the upstairs laboratory, studying the test animals he had acquired, and several times a week he drove out into the desert in a small motorsled to examine living conditions outside the dome. He seemed very busy. But his face was tense and tired-looking. And most important of all, he hardly said anything to Jim and Sally about the work he was doing. That was a clue. When things were going well for him, he always brought them up to the laboratory to explain his experiments. But when he was making no progress, he never seemed to want to talk about his work. He didn’t believe in sharing his failures, only his successes.

“If they would only let him have that radar-equipped helicopter,” Jim sighed.

“Yes. But they say he can’t have it for months.”

“We’ll be on our way back to Earth before they let him use it,” Jim complained gloomily.

“Why can’t they bring it back and lend it to him?” Sally asked. “Don’t they know he doesn’t have much time left on Mars?”

“You know what the Colony Council decided. The helicopter has been sent off on a round-the-globe mapping expedition, searching for underground mineral deposits. It won’t be back for a couple of months yet. And they won’t cut the expedition short just to let Dad have it.”

“Can’t he put another radar set in a sand-crawler?”

Jim laughed. “Radar is complicated and expensive. They don’t have radar equipment lying around any old place. If there were any way Dad could get some, he would have.”

“So he has to sit he making experiments with turtles and rats and cars,” Sally said, “while the most important thing is finding the Old Martians.”

“He wasn’t sent here to find the Old Martians,” Jim pointed out. “Only to study Martian desert life/”

“Yes, but if he had Old Martians too -”

“I know,” Jim agreed. He reached down, picked up Mitten, and gently stroked the little creatures round, stubby ears. The desert kitten purred. “I wish there was some way we could help him,” he added.

“There is,” Sally said.

“What do you mean?”

She lowered her voice in case her parents in the next room might be listening. “We could go out in the desert and look for the Old Martians ourselves.”

Jim blinked. “Huh? Are you off your trolley, girl?”

“Why not?” Sally persisted. “We could borrow one of those little motorsleds. They aren’t hard to operate. We could just go out and cruise around the desert for a day, examining cliffs and things. Who knows? Maybe we’ll find a cave full of Old Martians somewhere. At least it’s possible .”

“Dad wouldn’t like us going out by ourselves -”

“We wouldn’t have to tell him,” Sally urged. “We could wait until Sunday, and tell him we were visiting somebody.”

Jim was uneasy about telling lies. “I don’t know, Sally. It isn’t right -”

“But we’d be helping him, after all! Suppose we really did find the Old Martians. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Wouldn’t Ted Navarra and Don Bruce and all the rest of them fell silly of we actually discovered the Old Martians all by ourselves?”

“It would really show them a thing or two, I guess. But I’m still not sold on the plan. Why should we be able to find the Old Martians in one day when colonists have been exploring the desert around here for years? The place we really ought to look, if we go at all, is over on the other side of the planet. But we can’t get there alone.”

“I know that. We’d have to stick pretty close to this area,” Sally said. “But I want to, Jim.

Dad can’t get the helicopter he needs, and before we know it the year will be up. The least we can do is make a try .”

“Okay,” Jim agreed slowly. “We’ll probably have our hides tanned, but I’m game. We’ll go on Sunday.”

“And let’s take Mitten along. Maybe he’ll bring us good luck.”

Jim laughed. “I hope so. We’re going to need all we can get, and then some.”

It was not very difficult for Jim and Sally to borrow the motorsled. Several times Jim had been allowed to phone up requesting one for his father when Dr. Chambers was too busy to call, himself. Jim knew exactly what to do.

The colony had plenty of motorsleds, and they were easy to obtains. Jim simply called the Vehicle Department Sunday morning.

“This is Jim Chambers,” he said, “Dr. Chambers’ son. My father wants a sled for an expedition today.”

“Right. What time is he leaving?”

“Oh, about ten o’clock,” Jim replied. “I’ll pick it up myself.”

At quarter to ten, Jim and Sally told their parents they were going to visit their classmates and wouldn’t be back until late in the afternoon. They were careful not to say which friend they would be visiting. Dr. Chambers was busy in his laboratory, with Mrs. Chambers helping him. They hardly paid attention to what Jim and Sally were saying.

Taking Mitten with them, Jim and Sally left the house and made their way to the up-level elevator. The motorsled was waiting for them near Air Lock Four. Jim signed for it, saying, “My father is meeting us in a few minutes. We’ll suit up and take the sled through the air lock while we’re waiting.”

The colony men shrugged. It wasn’t an concern of theirs.

They went to the lockers and found breathing suits. Then they climbed onto the motorsled. It was a simple vehicle, just an open sled with jet engines mounted in back and a control dashboard in front. Operating it was easy. A starter button got it going; in operation, it was controlled by a steering wheel, and could be slowed or stopped by a hand brake. Children were not usually allowed to drive them, but it was all right for Jim and Sally to get the sled started while waiting for their father.

Jim settled down at the driver’s seat, feeling very grown-up and important. He buckled his safety belt. Sally, next to him, strapped herself in, too. She was holding Mitten on her lap.