The Martian Pendant

by Patrick Taylor

  One day on a break, exploring the same cave after clearing away some fallen rock, Dan led Diana by the hand through a narrow passage into a nearby chamber. Shining his flashlight on the far wall, he exclaimed in wonder, “Look, Di, cave paintings! I doubt Neanderthals did those. And they’re done in what looks like charcoal and a red pigment. Could it be blood?”

  In an awed voice, she replied, “Red ochre, perhaps, but don’t you see, Danny, this is renewed evidence of habitation by a more modern people! Most of the paintings depict the hunt, and the animals they depended on. Interestingly, there’s no evidence of conflict with other humans. If only we had a way to date this!”

  Further careful exploration, directed by Max, of the newly discovered cave failed to reveal anything more. While the Neanderthals, as their burial sites have revealed, evidently believed in somewhat of an afterlife, the presumed modern inhabitants of that cave had left no sign of such a belief in their paintings.

  At supper after that week of patient digging, all the talk was about their failure to find anything more. Everyone in the expedition thought it exceedingly curious. A more advanced race of people, without any religion? One that left no evidence of their flint weapons or tools? Such were the unresolved questions that they would take home when the dig ended.

  * * *

  On their last night in Spain, for the first time Diana and Dan managed to be alone together for more than an hour. It was like an Indian summer, the weather unusually balmy even for that part of Spain. As they sat outside together sipping Rioja, they watched as the afterglow painted the eastern hills and sky in rainbow layers of pastels. The Atlantic, to the west where the water’s deep blue contrasted with the orange and pink hues of sunset, slowly merged into the darkening sky.

  Holding her hand and gazing at her lovely profile in the fading light, Dan was taken by her beauty as well as her brilliance. Earlier, it was obvious to him that she had become quite fond of him, but he hadn’t wanted to rush her. It had been enough just to be near her.

  There was no moon, and the sky seemed like an inverted black velvet bowl studded with myriad tiny jewels of light. As darkness became complete, he imagined starlight reflected in her eyes. The blackness on high was almost equally bisected by the path of the Milky Way. No less than a million stars could be seen, but he wasn’t counting.

  As they lay back on the soft grass under the stars, he took her in his arms, intoxicated by her nearness and the sensuous night. “Di, we’ve known each other for two months now, and since our first meeting, I’ve dreamed of you almost every night. When we first met, I felt a chemistry between us, beginning with just your touch. I’ve never felt that way before. Since then, we’ve grown close, eating and working together every day.”

  She hushed him temporarily, gently putting a finger to his lips. “Dan, don’t---”

  Finishing his thought, he continued, “But we haven’t done this together yet.” Then he kissed her passionately, lingering on her soft lips, enjoying her warm, if fleeting, response.

  “Danny, I have some of those same feelings, but I’m not ready for this just yet.” Then, extricating herself from his arms, she changed the subject abruptly. “Look,” she exclaimed, pointing out the red planet and taking her pendant in hand. “Up amongst all the stars. Do you think there could have been human life on Mars?”

  “Well,” he said, disappointed that she was not sharing his feelings, “H.G. Wells wrote a short novel about that, The War Of The Worlds, but his Martians were far from human.”

  Sitting up, she replied, “Indeed, but what if they had been human, identical to us, and had come here? What would it have been like for them? How would it have been on Mars a million years ago? Was it a red, virtually barren, planet then, or might it have been more like earth?”

  “Good God, woman,” he softly retorted, “Nothing but questions tonight, almost shop talk. I thought we agreed to avoid that on our last night here.”

  She then stood up, as if to become closer to Mars, continuing, “Answers to those seemingly fanciful questions could go a long way to solving some of the mysteries our work here has uncovered. It could have much to do with our own origins, and perhaps even with the future of our planet.”

  As he slowly shook his head in the dark, still gazing skyward, she took another imaginative mental leap after a long, reflective pause. Excitedly, she continued, “I admit to talking shop. But what if the Martians had something to do with the disappearance of the Neanderthals?”

  Standing next to her, he thought that over and then replied, “Wells or somebody once wrote a short story about a war between Neanderthals and our kind. The Beast Men and their War on Humans, I think it was. Was it Shakespeare who said, ‘There’s nothing new under the sun?’ Regardless, whatever we come up with now probably has been thought of before.”

  “Probably,” she agreed, “but what if humans actually did come from Mars?”

  “Not in a million years,” he replied, kissing her again, not dreaming that he could be partly right. For modern humans, it had been just about a million years.

  THREE

  The Martian Story

  Returning to Chicago, they promised to keep in touch, but regretfully had to go their separate ways, he to train with the CIA in Virginia, and she to work on her Ph.D. in the Windy City. She spent much time in research, attempting to trace the progress of modern humans as they fanned out across the globe. Her imagination told her we had a Martian connection. She knew she was on to something, and if she couldn’t immediately prove her theory of how humans came to be, at least she could write about it. Through it all, however, she resolved to approach her theory scientifically. This in turn led her to write a story about the Martian landing she had envisioned.

  When Diana was at Cambridge, she had published a paper that appeared in an anthropology journal. The work had been well-received by the editor’s assistant, her only connection with any publisher. When her Martian story was finished, she called that office again. She was disappointed, as her contact, an American, had returned to the U.S. No other information about the whereabouts of the editor's assistant was available.

  Still looking for a publisher for her manuscript, she happened on the latest copy of an annually revised guide to publishers, editors and literary agents. Leafing through it, she found the name of her contact. Now a literary agent on her own, the woman had an office in New York City. Reading further, Diana noted the paragraph on her categories of interest. “Likes scientific/medical non-fiction, but has a particular dislike of science fiction.”

  For Diana, the apparent dilemma was discouraging. Although based on known science, her ideas, mostly born of her intuition, were truly fiction. Although grounded in anthropology, she had to admit that the work was based mostly on pure imagination.

  She and the agent met in person when she went to New York, and hit it off immediately. Over coffee, they became better acquainted. The agent was impressed with Diana, but that was before she read the manuscript. Her earlier work, with the promise of solid science, was intriguing to the agent, who had always been interested in such topics; hence her preferences, as stated in the guide. They parted on an optimistic tone, Diana with her card and home phone number, and the agent with the thin manuscript about Mars. It was only two days before Diana heard an angry voice on the phone. Of course, it was the agent. Diana was greeted with a torrent of words.

  “What do you mean by giving me a work of science-fiction? I stated in my preferences in the guide that I don’t like that stuff, so what gives?”

  Diana replied uncertainly, “You’re my only contact, and I thought that being a woman, you’d understand the leaps of intuition I took in preparing the reader for the actual science presented. Additionally, everything written about what happened here on earth over the last million years is probably true, and the findings of the dig in Spain do tend to support my theory.”

  There was a silence, and then her reply, “Okay, you got me. I still think it’s science fic
tion, but with a sprinkling of known facts. You notice I didn’t send the manuscript back to you. I think it will prove acceptable, in serial form perhaps, by one of the men’s magazines, such as Argosy, or other adventure publication. I’ll do my best, but without a guarantee. I’ll also send you a contract for my services, which is based on the usual percentage. Keep in contact, and if anything in your further research touches on this story, or on true science of interest to the general public, give me a ring.”

  The piece did find a publisher, Science Fiction, a semi-annual paperback compendium of stories in that genre, which was becoming a popular subject. The cover was an artistic rendition of Mars in devolution, a series of images, starting in the top left corner as a lovely earth-like planet, ending in the lower right corner with what we now see as a barren red orb. Hers was the feature story. How many times had she re-read, proofread, and revised those passages before submitting the manuscript? Still, she perused it once again, for the first time on glossy pages.

  THE MARTIAN IMPERATIVE

  Diana Sylvia Howard

  “Four and a half billion years ago, a collision of orbiting rock led to a tremendous explosion in the inner rings of the young solar system, creating two planets, our own earth, and the fourth planet from the sun, Mars. Half the size of earth, at one time it was a rival in beauty to our own home, the blue planet. Although its greater distance from the sun made it much cooler, when it was seen from space, it literally outshone earth in sheer silvery-blue radiance, with its polar mantles of snow and ice, and its water and oxygen-rich atmosphere. It appeared much like a Christmas ornament shimmering in the blackness of the void.

  “Somehow, our world ended up with much more iron in its molten core, an occurrence doubly fortunate for us, giving our planet ten times the mass, and a strong magnetic field. This would, much more effectively than that of Mars, ward off the atmosphere-depleting effects of the solar winds, despite our orbit being closer to the sun.

  “An impact with a huge asteroid around three and a half billion years ago, in literally clipping off Mars’ top, did lead to deposition of iron enough to create a relatively weak magnetic field. This allowed the stabilization of an atmosphere for a billion years, forming all the conditions required for life. Although the same age as earth, because of an orbit farther from the sun, and possessing much less mass, Mars cooled more rapidly.

  “While our world was still in its early formative years, much too hot for biological organisms, on that planet primitive life forms evolved into a race of humans. This was much the same as the process would begin to take place on earth millions of years later. Micro-organisms, blasted off Mars, were carried to our planet as passengers deep in the stony fissures of meteors.

  “Martian technology in time enabled sending unmanned space probes to the other inner planets, sampling the inhospitable environments of Mercury and Venus. Not surprisingly, they did find our blue planet inviting, noting especially the volcanic activity, which had been long absent on Mars. This earmarked our warmer world as a candidate for expeditions aimed at establishing permanent settlements some day.

  “But their planet was dying. A nearly barren orb by that time, it was swept by freezing winds, almost constantly scouring the mostly moonlike surface. As our planet was maturing, their home was cooling, losing much of its water and breathable atmosphere to the solar winds. That problem drove most of them underground, leading to the creation of subterranean cities, peopled with most of the Martian population. Sublings, they called themselves. Near the surface at first, the cities resembled ancient Petra here on earth. Carved out of the solid rose-colored rock, instead of being merely superficial, they had become deeper and infinitely more complex with time, virtual catacombs.

  “There had been much controversy in the beginning when the movement underground was first suggested, leading some of the more rugged individuals to remain on the surface. These hardy types, made nomadic by the realities of the ever-cooling land, were left far behind by the scientific progress developed in labyrinths of the rock cities.

  “In those days, over a million years ago, there was still enough atmosphere on Mars to support human life on the surface, but it was recognized that with the ever-accelerating loss of oxygen, the planet would, within just a few centuries, become uninhabitable. Gradually the Onlanders, as the surface holdouts were known, became confined to the planet’s somewhat less frigid equator, and then only in that five-mile deep canyon, Valles Marineris. Despite the decreasing oxygen tension and atmospheric pressure, an extremely tough people developed, inured to the hardships imposed by the unforgiving and virtually perpetual winter of the Martian surface.

  “While formal religion had long been absent underground, a pantheistic religion persisted among the surface nomads. They burned their dead, offering them up to the sky, rendering back to nature the substance of the departed. As the smoke of a pyre wafted upward, prayers entreated the spirits to allow the rising essences to join them. Especially sought as a home for their souls was a bright blue dot called the evening star that followed the sun. It was ironic as well as prophetic.

  “The deterioration of the environment finally made it apparent, too late, that they were past the tipping point, and that stopping the process would be impossible. For all their advanced science and technology, an irreversible and accelerating chain of events had been set in motion. The end was approaching, and with frightening rapidity.

  “Fortunately, space technology was far advanced. Perhaps because of that, the final decision was made to utilize an existing fleet of galactic spaceships, which could accommodate the entire underground population. Medical science had perfected a form of cryogenic preservation, which would enable automated spacecraft to reach destinations light-years distant, carrying Martians who would sleep away the frozen centuries. Astronomers had located planets capable of supporting human life, the central star far younger than our own sun, guaranteeing many billions of years of safety. Studies had shown that the earth had less than another billion years before the sun, in a final burst of heat output, would make life here impossible.

  “Within a long Martian year, the entire population of city people--never more than a hundred thousand--had been processed and frozen in their sealed capsules. The liftoff of the automated trans-galactic fleet was witnessed by only a handful of Sublings who had remained behind, employed in the massed launchings. As the fleet slowly rose, its fifty craft suddenly disappeared in a flash of light, and without a whisper.

  “The logical solution would have been to leave the planet for the nearest destination, that familiar blue planet closer to the sun. Earth actually had originally been the planned destination, using two conventional spaceships. Quite primitive, considering the advanced stage of their technology; they had been outfitted to transport a large preliminary party, and still occupied their launching silos, all but abandoned in the rush for the stars.

  “The surface people, finding the cities deserted, and unable to pilot the two remaining craft themselves, demanded passage. The two-dozen Sublings available, sufficient to serve as crew, agreed under pressure. Nearly two thousand strapping nomads, men and women, in return would provide the heavy labor needed to establish a base camp. The second ship, unmanned and totally automated, would contain supplies and machinery essential to starting life anew on earth.

  “Suspended animation would be necessary, since sufficient provisions could not be carried to support normal metabolism of the numerous passengers throughout the ten-month flight. A metabolic suppressant had been found for that purpose. When it had been tested on subjects from the cities, they proved amnesic only for events during actual hibernation. What effect the chemical might have on the surface dwellers had not even been considered. But unlike their underground opposites, it would blot out past memory, including their life on Mars, the reason for the voyage, and the role they were expected to play on earth. And it would persist.

  “The journey was scheduled to coincide with the launch window for enter
ing the earth’s orbit. Provisioning and boarding of the crew and passengers would be complete by then. At three thousand tons each, the size of modern sea-going navy destroyers, both ships were gigantic by present-day standards.

  “At liftoff, daylight was given added brilliance by the fiery trails of the fusion engines as the massive crafts slowly emerged from their silos. Then, ever more rapidly, they accelerated away into the blue-black sky. The nomads in the lead ship had little time to experience the wonder of zero gravity before the hibernation extract, mixed with their food, took effect. The control and propulsion systems were then programmed for final insertion into earth’s orbit. When the nomads had been bedded down in their hibernation pods, the crew followed suit, leaving the months-long transit to the automatic pilot. All were looking forward to the promise of life on their adopted planet.

  A NEW HOME

  “Only the newly-awakened crew was able to see the lovely blue, green, and white globe as it first appeared off to the port of the spaceships. They marveled at the verdant continents beneath the white cloud cover, and the vast expanses of water, long absent on Mars. The fiery display of the heat shield as their ship plunged into the atmosphere, followed by their approach on the night side of the planet, soon obscured their view.

  “Retrorockets were fired as the ships approached the ground, and while they slowed the leading craft, down-firing jets cushioning the landing, the automated system failed on the second ship, causing a colossal explosion. Remains of ship and cargo were mostly vaporized in the white heat that resulted, fueled by the impact and the uncontrolled fusion reaction of the remaining propellant. A few small fragments of the shattered hull were scattered for almost a mile, its engine buried.