Robert Silverberg - Lost Race of Mars

“That’s terrible, Dad!” Jim explained. “You still have almost eleven months of your grant left!”

“I know,” Dr. Chambers said. “And I don’t think they’ll actually succeed in sending us home.

But they might try. They could raise a fuss with the big shots on Earth. It would look very bad for me and for anybody else who wants a grant to do research work on Mars. So—we have to produce results, or else.”

“What kind of results?” Sally asked.

“Proof that the Old Martians are really there.”

“But they didn’t want contact with Earth men, Dad,” Jim said. “They just wanted to be left alone. If we go out there and bother them—”

“Not bother them, Jim. I want to talk to them a little, and take a few photographs. I want to find out exactly how they survive under the desert conditions. I want some samples of those plants you say they have growing in their caves.”

“That would be up to them. Sally and I could take you to the place where we found the cave, maybe, but if they didn’t want to be visited we would just be wasting our time out there.”

“We’ll give it a try, anyway,” Dr. Chambers replied. “First thing tomorrow morning we’ll make a little excursion out into the desert. Just the three of us—unless you want to come along, too, Ethel.”

Mrs. Chambers smiled. “I’d just as soon stay here,” she answered. “And I wonder if it’s wise for you to go. If another sandstorm comes up—”

“I’ve made some inquiries,” Dr. Chambers said. “Martin Huber tells me that the chances of two sandstorms in the same area the same week are very slim. So I don’t think there’s much risk on that score.”

“What about school?” Sally asked.

“School can get along fine without you for one day,” Dr. Chambers said. “Finding the Old Martians again is more important. It’ll write a chapter in the history books that will make your names famous on Mars for centuries.”

So it was all decided—Jim and Sally would take their father out into the desert. If they were luck, perhaps the Old Martians would consent to being visited again. If not, well, then things would be very bad indeed for the Chambers family.

After breakfast the next morning Dr. Chambers phoned the Vehicle Department and requested a motorsled. When he hung up he said, “I suppose that fellow thinks he has a sense of humor.

He wanted to know if he should send out a rescue signal for us before we left.”

The attendants at the air lock were in a wisecracking mood too. But Jim and Sally and Dr.

Chambers pretended not to listen as they quickly put on their breathing suits and climbed aboard the motorsled. Dr. Chambers drove, with Jim sitting next to him. Sally sat in back, guarding the camera and Dr. Chambers’ collecting bottles. They had not brought Mitten along on this trip even though the Mars kitten had brought them good luck the last time. If the Martians did not wish to be visited, not even Mitten could help to change their minds.

It was a bright, cool summer morning. The wind blew sharply over the desert. Dr. Chambers drove steadily southward. Jim and Sally peered out, hoping to spy some familiar landmark. But nothing looked familiar. Every part of the desert was very much like every other part. Had they seen those cliffs before? Or had they come some other way, the last time? It was impossible to tell. Jim and Sally fidgeted.

“Are we getting close?” Dr. Chambers asked, when he had driver more than an hour.

“I don’t know,” Jim said. “It’s so hard to be sure. All I know was we drove south, and then we were mixed up in the sandstorm. And the Martian cave was at the base of a low cliff. Just like that cliff over there—” And he pointed to a little clump of rocks jutting out of the desert not far to the east.

“Or like that one.” Sally pointed out another rock formation to the west.

They wandered in the desert for more than half the morning without any luck. They investigated every cliff formation they came across. But each one looked just like the next, and none of them had any sign of an Old Martian cave. Jim and Sally and Dr. Chambers became very discouraged. They would never find the little beings.

And then, suddenly, a soft voice sprang out of nowhere. “You wish to visit us again, Jim and Sally? But you have broken your promise.”

“Dad, did you hear that?” Jim asked.

“What?” said their father, puzzled.

“The Martians!” Sally cried. “They spoke to us.”

Jim answered to the empty air, “Yes, we do want to visit you again! We’ve been searching for your cave all morning!”

“But you promised not to bring the older Earth people to see us,” came the soft, mildly reproachful mental voice. “Yet one of them is with you now.”

“He won’t make any trouble for you,” Sally said. “He’s our father. It’s all right if he comes, isn’t it?”

“Jim—Sally—whom are you talking to?” Dr. Chambers asked in bewilderment.

“Can’t you hear them, Dad?” Jim questioned.

“No, he cannot hear me,” replied the Martian. “I am not making contact with his mind, only with yours.”

Dr. Chambers shook his head. “Is this some kind of game you’re playing—”

“The Martians are talking telepathically to us,” explained Sally.

“Listen to me,” Jim said to the distant Martian. “We aren’t going to make trouble for you. My father just wants to know a few things about the way you live, and he wants to take a few photographs of you. That’s all. You can look into my mind and see that I’m telling the truth.”

“We are not afraid of your father,” came the Martian’s reply. “But he cannot come to our dwelling. You and Sally are welcome always, but you must come along. This is our rule and we will make no exceptions.”

“Is that final?” Jim asked.

“It is.”

He turned to his father, who was very much mystified by a conversation of which he could hear only one half. “They say we can visit them, but you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’ve made a rule about Earth men, and they won’t break it,” Jim said.

Dr. Chambers looked doubtful. “I don’t want to leave you alone in the desert again, though.”

“But otherwise none of us will see the Martians!” Sally protested. “We can’t go to them with you along.”

Dr. Chambers was silent for a moment. At length he said, “Your mother will skin me alive if anything happens to you. And the colony director will draw and quarter me if he has to send out another rescue party.”

“We won’t get lost, Dad,” Jim explained.

“And even if we do,” explained Sally, “they wouldn’t have to send out a big rescue team. We could radio for help, and they would figure out our position, and you could come find us. But anyway, we won’t get lost.”

“All right,” Dr. Chambers agreed, “we’ll have to chance it. You’re sure your Martian friends won’t change their minds about letting me visit them?”

“Positive.”

Dr. Chambers shook his head. “There are time when I think I’m crazy. Martians in caves, and voices that you can hear but I can’t. If you were anybody else’s children I wouldn’t believe you for a minute.”

“So you’ll let us go alone?” Jim asked?

“Yes,” said Dr. Chambers reluctantly. “I’ll drive back to the colony. Might be a good idea to refuel the sled, while we’re at it. Then you come back and visit your Martians. Take as many pictures as they’ll allow of them, their rooms, and especially those plants.”

“Right, Dad.”

He swung the motorsled around and headed it back to the colony. It was lunchtime when they got there. They left the motorsled just outside the air lock, asking the attendants to refuel it, and entered the dome.