Khee made himself comfortable in one of the low chairs. «True,» he said. «I have not followed recent reports too closely, though. Why are they using an atomic warhead? I know they think our planet is probably uninhabited, but still—»
«They will watch the flash through their lunar telescopes and get a—what do they call it?—a spectroscopic analysis, which will tell them more than they know now (or think they know; much of it is erroneous) about the atmosphere of our planet and the composition of its surface. It is—call it a sighting shot, Khee. They’ll be here in person within a few oppositions. And then—»
Mars was holding out, waiting for Earth to come. What was left of Mars, that is; this one small city of about nine hundred beings. The civilization of Mars was older than that of Earth, but it was a dying one. This was what remained of it, one city, nine hundred people. They were waiting for Earth to make contact, for a selfish reason and for an unselfish one.
Martian civilization had developed in a quite different direction from that of Earth. It had developed no important knowledge of the physical sciences, no technology. But it had developed social sciences to the point where there had not been a single crime, let alone a war, on Mars for fifty thousand years. And it had developed fully the parapsychological sciences, the sciences of the mind, that Earth was just beginning to discover.
Mars could teach Earth much. How to avoid crime and war, two simple things, to begin with. Beyond those simple things, telepathy, telekinesis, empathy…
And Earth would, Mars hoped, teach them something even more valuable to Mars: how, by science and technology—which it was too late for Mars to develop now, even if they had the type of minds which would enable them to develop these things—to restore and rehabilitate a dying planet, so that an otherwise dying race might live and multiply again. Each planet would gain greatly, and neither would lose.
And tonight was the night when Earth would make its first contact, a sighting shot. Its next shot, a rocket containing Earthmen or at least an Earthman, would be at the next opposition, two Earth years, or roughly four Martian years, hence. The Martians knew this because their teams of telepaths were able to catch at least some of the thoughts of Earthmen, enough to know their plans. Unfortunately, at that distance, the connection was one-way and Mars could not ask Earth to hurry its program. Or tell Earth scientists the facts about Mars’ composition and atmosphere which would have made this preliminary shot unnecessary.
Tonight Ry, the leader (as nearly as the Martian word can be translated), and Khee, his administrative assistant and closest friend, sat and meditated together until the time was near. Then they drank a toast to the future—in a beverage based on menthol, which had the same effect on Martians as alcohol on Earthmen—and climbed to the roof of the building in which they had been sitting. They watched toward the north, where the rocket should land. The stars shone brilliantly through the thin atmosphere…
In Observatory No. 1 on Earth’s moon, Rog Everett, his eye at the eyepiece of the spotter scope, said triumphantly, «Thar she blew, Willie. And now, as soon as the films are developed, we’ll know the score on that old planet Mars.»
He straightened up—there’d be no more to see now—and he and Willie Sanger shook hands solemnly; it was a historical occasion.
«Hope it didn’t kill anybody. Any Martians, that is. Rog, did it hit dead center in Syrtis Major?»
«Near as matters. The pix will show exactly but I’d say it was maybe a thousand miles off, to the south. And that’s damn close on a fifty-million-mile shot. Willie, do you really think there are any Martians?»
Willie thought a second and then said, «No.»
Willie was right.
HORSE RACE
Garn Roberts, also known—but only to the Galactic Federation’s top security officers—as Secret Agent K-1356, was sleeping in his one-man spaceship which was coasting at fourteen light-years an hour on automatics two hundred and six light-years from Earth. A bell rang, instantly awakening him. He hurried to the telecom and turned it on. The face of Daunen Brand, Special Assistant to the President of the Federation, sprang onto the screen, and Brand’s voice came from the speaker.
«K-1356, I have an assignment for you. Do you know the sun called Novra, in the constellation—»
«Yes,» Roberts said quickly; communication at this distance was wasteful power, especially on tight beam, and he wanted to save the Special Assistant all the time he could.
«Good. Do you know its planetary system?»
«I’ve never been there. I know Novra has two inhabited planets, that’s all.»
«Right. The inner planet is inhabited by a humanoid race, not too far from ours. The outer planet is inhabited by a race who are outwardly similar to terrestrial horses except that they have a third pair of limbs which terminate in hands, which has enabled them to reach a fairly high state of civilization. Their name for themselves is unpronounceable for Earthmen, so we call them simply the Horses. They know the derivation of the name, but don’t mind; they’re not sensitive that way.»
«Yes, sir,» said Roberts, as Brand paused.
«Both races have space travel, although not the faster-than-light interstellar drive. Between the two planets—you can look up the names and co-ordinates in the star guide—is an asteroid belt similar to that of the solar system, but even more extensive, the residue of the break-up of a large planet that had once had its orbit between the orbits of the two inhabited planets.
«Neither inhabited planet has much in the way of minerals; the asteroids are rich with them and are the major source of supply for both planets. A hundred years ago they went to war over this, and the Galactic Federation arbitrated the war and ended it by getting both races, the Humanoids and the Horses, to agree that one individual of either race could stake claim, for his lifetime, to one asteroid and only one asteroid.»
«Yes, sir. I remember reading about it in Galactic history.»
«Excellent. Here is the problem. We have a complaint from the Humanoids claiming that the Horses are breaking this treaty, claiming asteroids under false names of nonexistent Horses in order to get more than their share of the minerals.
«Your orders: Land on the Horses’ planet. Use your trader identity; it will not be suspect since many traders go there. They are friendly; you’ll have no trouble. You’ll be welcome as a trader from Earth. You are to prove or disprove the assertion of the Humanoids that the Horses are violating the treaty by staking claims to more asteroids than their numbers justify.»
«Yes, sir.»
«You will report back to me by tight beam as soon as you have accomplished your mission and left the planet.»
The screen went blank. Garn Roberts consulted his guides and charts, reset the automatic controls and went back to his bunk to resume his interrupted sleep.
A week later, when he had accomplished his mission and was a safe ten light-years out from the Novra system, he sent a tight-beam signal to the Special Assistant to the President of the Galactic Federation, and in minutes Daunen Brand’s face appeared on the screen of the telecom.
«K-1356 reporting on the Novra situation, sir,» Garn Roberts said. «I managed to get access to the census statistics of the Horses; they number a little over two million. Then I checked the claims of the Horses to Asteroids; they have filed claims on almost four million of them. It is obvious that the Humanoids are right and that the Horses are violating the treaty.
«Otherwise, why are there so many more Horses’ asteroids than there are Horses?»
DEATH ON THE MOUNTAIN