Return to Mars

by WE Johns

Genres: YA Science Fiction

Synopsis

Tiger Clinton, Rex and the Professor are back!

In the new, bigger Spacemaster II, and with experience under their belt from before, they're ready to tackle whatever the stars have to throw at them. First stop: Mars.

When previously they had found the remains of a civilisation and desolation, this time they find a man - alive, but desperately ill. Can they save him? And can he tell what happened to the Martian cities that lie in ruins around them?

Captain W.E. Johns continues his adventures in space with book two of the Tiger Clinton series, a roaring pulp SF romp, perfect for fans of Star Trek and vintage science fiction!

Release date: November 15, 2022

Publisher: Orion

Print pages: 320

Sample

There was silence in the Spacemaster as it shot through escape velocity into space on its estimated eight day journey to Mars. The five members of the crew, relieved of the strain of the initial acceleration, had relaxed, and were preparing to occupy themselves by such means as had been provided to fill the unchanging hours that lay ahead.

Professor Lucius Brane, the little eccentric scientist-engineer inventor of the spacecraft, sat at the main observation window, hair untidy, spectacles on the end of his nose, notebook on the chart table in front of him, and a bag of caramels, anchored by an elastic band, at his elbow. Judkins, his imperturbable seldom-speaking butler-mechanic, was at the controls – power, gyro and pressure – their relative positions being those of captain and chief engineer of an ocean liner.

Group-Captain ‘Tiger’ Clinton, DSO, RAF, with his son Rex, were watching the shadow called night sweep across the huge but fast-diminishing globe which once they had called the world, but was now, for purposes of navigation, merely Earth; one of a million units of the Universe within their view. They watched without emotion, for they had seen the spectacle before.

Not so the remaining member of the crew, to whom this was a new and obviously disturbing experience. A doctor had been considered essential to the expedition, and Tiger had found one, a wartime comrade and friend, in Squadron Leader Clarence Paul, MD, better known in the Service as ‘Toby’. He was a small, chubby little man of early middle age, with a cheerful expression which, with his figure, had no doubt been responsible for his nickname.

A man of tremendous energy, as small men often are, he had had a great deal of experience in the tropics of disorders caused by insects, malaria, sandfly fever, and the like. A feature of his nature was a sense of humour that could make a joke of trouble. He also possessed, often to the Professor’s bewilderment, a wonderful vocabulary of RAF slang. When Tiger had put the project before him, asking him if he would attend some patients on Mars, he had, not surprisingly, accused him of being ‘round the bend’. But when Tiger had produced photographs taken on the previous expedition he went to work on preparations to deal with the situation.

Nearly a year had passed since that memorable first journey to Mars, but such had been the activity designing and constructing the new Spacemaster that as far as Rex was concerned the months had flown. Tiger had returned to Farnborough to complete his work there, but had dashed up to Glensalich for as many weekends as he could manage.

Rex, abandoning his apprenticeship, had acted as ‘runner’ between Glensalich and the works where the components of the new ship were being fabricated to the Professor’s specifications. This had left the Professor free to concentrate on research, for here there was much to be done.

Toby now knew all that had happened on the early voyages, for once a month there had been a conference at Glensalich Castle attended by everyone; and it is doubtful if ever before at any meetings there had been discussed matters of such consequence. All were aware of this. What effect the knowledge they already possessed would have on the general public should the facts become known was a matter for surmise. It would certainly – as Toby put it – start a flap. Governments apparently thought so, averred the Professor, from the way they had tried to ridicule the reported sightings of so-called flying saucers. The adoption of the harmless-sounding name ‘saucer’ was part of a plan to offset public fears of the unknown. The official American name, UFO, meaning Unidentified Flying Object, was better.

The Spacemaster II was larger than its prototype and embodied several modifications, notably in the matter of safety devices. Learning a lesson from their collision with a small meteor, the air supply, an improved mixture of oxygen and helium, was no longer contained in a single compartment but in several small ones, indicated by bulges on the skin of the ship. Damage to one would not affect the others. The chemical air-purifying system was more efficacious, and a double skin would, it was hoped, provide better temperature conditioning. There was more storage space for food, mostly highly concentrated, and the considerable amount of equipment that would be required. An airlock, in the manner of the escape compartment of a submarine, to make exit possible without losing pressure in the cabin, was a new feature.

The Professor had also been busy in other directions. He had produced an insecticide to deal with the pink mosquitoes. This was not a poison in the accepted sense of the word, for it was out of the question to carry a supply sufficient to spray the entire planet. The Professor’s creation was an organic compound calculated to set up a ‘hunger’ phobia in which the insects, by eating each other, would not only gorge themselves to death but pass on the deadly dose. In other words, the Professor had explained with a chuckle, he proposed to exterminate the pest by giving the little beasts a fatal bilious attack.

A piece of good news to Rex was provided by the analysis of the samples of atmosphere taken on Mars, where there had not been time to test it in actual practice. It revealed that once on the planet spacesuits would not be needed after the explorers had become acclimatized. The air was thin, and the pressure consequently less than that to which they were accustomed at sea level on the surface of the earth. It was, the Professor stated, about the same as would be found on Everest at 26,000 feet, which had been reached without oxygen apparatus. This might be uncomfortable but it would be sufficient to support life. After a little while, provided they were not called to any great exertion, the change would be hardly noticeable.

It should be mentioned that the Professor had ‘improved’ his caramels by the inclusion of a substance sometimes issued during the war to troops engaged in special operations likely to call for superhuman endurance. By putting it in a concentrated form of glucose, to form the caramel, a few of these special sweets would keep a body going for some time with no other food.

There had been one incident that struck Rex as amusing although he had thought it prudent to keep his expression under control. The Professor, without saying that he was speaking from experience, had written a paper for a scientific journal on ‘probable’ moon conditions; the probable conditions, of course, being the actual ones. The editor, refusing to publish it, had returned the manuscript with a curt note which implied that the writer was talking nonsense.

‘You see?’ said the Professor bitterly. ‘Tell the truth and you become either a liar or a fool.’

By an unfortunate chance the same post brought a newspaper clipping, an article that dealt with lunar flight. Part of it the Professor read aloud: ‘In case of war, atomic guided missiles could be launched from a lunar base and aimed by radar at any target on earth.’ He flung the paper on the table. ‘War – war – war,’ he said sadly. ‘That’s all they think about. Mark my words, as soon as interplanetary flight is achieved the first talk will be of a possible war with Mars. One of these days I’ll build a fleet of spaceships and evacuate to another planet the people who in this war-madness see the end of all that is best on Earth. I fear that Earth is heading for such a disaster as defies imagination.’

The day was approaching when Rex was to remember this remark.

At the moment, however, as already stated, through one of the now dimmed windows he was watching night roll its curtain across the face of the world he knew. Around, in a sky deep navy blue, gleamed and twinkled the worlds he did not know.

The Professor broke a lengthy silence. ‘I’m thinking of making a halt on Phobos, that pathetic little satellite of Mars which we visited on our last trip. From there I hope to get a clearer view of those planetoids which, should we go beyond Mars, may cross our path. Some have orbits uncomfortably close to Mars, and to Earth, for that matter, although it is not generally realized. In 1937 Hermes shot past just beyond our moon. A little nearer and it might have knocked it to pieces, or taken it away from us. It might have been such a near miss that dragged away its atmosphere. But perhaps it’s better not to think about these things, although, to be sure, such accidents are common enough in the Universe, as astronomers know well.’ The Professor pushed up his spectacles. ‘Would anyone like a caramel?’

They all took one.

‘How many of these planetoids are there altogether?’ asked Rex.

‘Nearly two thousand. There may be others, too small to be seen even on the great two hundred inch reflector on Mount Palomar. I’m not worried about the big ones, like Ceres, Pallas, Vesta or Juno. Small ones could be dangerous, like rocks in the sea – the Ocean of Space.’

Rex spoke. ‘Could the saucers be coming from these planetoids, now that we know they’re not coming from Mars?’

‘It is possible, but surely improbable. I can’t believe people capable of inventing an efficient spacecraft would remain on a tiny world when there must be larger ones within their reach.’

‘Could it be that they are now looking at Earth with the object of moving to it?’

‘That, Rex, is what some people would very much like to know,’ answered the Professor seriously. ‘It isn’t beyond the bounds of possibility. It would account for the recent activity. One can understand the anxiety these visitations are causing, for it needs only one saucer to land to throw our civilization into confusion. Well, we may soon know, for I hope to call on some of the larger planetoids. We may learn something of them from a Martian, if we can find one alive, for the orbits of most of them lie between Mars and its giant neighbour, Jupiter; a monster of such size that it would require thirteen hundred Earths to produce an equal mass.’

As it’s on fire I imagine we shan’t be calling there,’ put in Tiger, dryly.

‘It would be interesting to know of what its mighty cloud belts, constantly changing form and colour, are composed,’ returned the Professor pensively. ‘It also has more than its share of moons, you know; no fewer than eleven, for which our astronomers have found romantic names – Ganymede, Callisto, Europa, and so on.’ The Professor chuckled. ‘Let us hope they are as romantic by nature.’

Tiger looked at Toby, whose face had recovered something of its usual high colour. ‘Feeling better, old man?’

Toby smiled wanly. ‘Yes thanks. I must admit that for a bit I thought I was going for six.’

‘So did I, at first,’ consoled Tiger. ‘You’ll soon get used to the sensation of being in the middle of nowhere.’

‘Don’t let anything upset you, for you may be running a hospital presently,’ put in the Professor.

‘I’ll manage, if you can deal with these fantastic swarms of bugs.’

The Professor peered over his spectacles. ‘Why fantastic?’

‘Don’t you think they’re fantastic?’

‘No. Haven’t we swarms of microbes on Earth to strike people down with what we call infectious diseases? If you regard the pink mosquitoes as overgrown germs it comes to precisely the same thing. What about the locust hordes that have ravaged areas of Earth since the dawn of history? The wretched people afflicted are able to put up some sort of fight against them because they happen to be by nature vegetarian; but suppose the locusts had developed poison glands and preyed on human blood instead of crops? What then? In spite of all that science can do these swarms persist. In different circumstances they might well have succeeded in depopulating Earth as another species of insect had depopulated Mars.

‘In those parts of the world where the swarms occur, perhaps,’ returned Toby.

‘Come – come, Doct. . .