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diff --git a/78703-0.txt b/78703-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6b77aa9 --- /dev/null +++ b/78703-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,360 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78703 *** + + + + + Translator’s Error + + by Charles Dye + + + + + It was a perfectly natural mistake for men to make.... + +[Illustration: The mural extended the full length of the hall, +depicting scenes of the old Martian civilization....] + + + + +Richard Potterboy was a beefy man with a big red face like an old-time +politican’s; he looked like an elephant beside the little man with the +telescopic spectacles sitting next to him. They both arose as Grisby +walked in. + +Potterboy’s face grew a shade redder as he glanced menacingly at his +watch. “Good Lord, Grisby, where do you think you’re at? Vacationing +back on earth? We’ve been waiting here nearly an hour for you!” He +wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His uppers didn’t fit well +and he was inclined to sputter. + +Before Grisby could reply, Potterboy was introducing him to the little +man with the powerful glasses. “Philip Grisby, Mr. Theodore McGinnis, +newly-appointed historian of the Martian Rehabilitation Project.” + +Grisby gravely shook McGinnis’ limp hand, still saying nothing. + +“Well, shall we go to your office?” Potterboy suggested impatiently. +“You might also have coffee sent in. This was McGinnis’ first trip into +space; and after two weeks, I’m sure he’ll enjoy drinking out of a +plain, old-fashioned cup again!” The Administrator, slapping McGinnis +on the back, chuckled at his own hearty humor. + +“Coffee, Halstead,” Grisby shouted as they walked from reception into +office. + +Potterboy lighted a huge cigar, while they all sat around in strained +silence until the secretary entered and left the coffee. + +“Now,” Potterboy said, puffing furiously on his cigar--but he didn’t +finish. For the first time, he noticed how ill and dejected Grisby +looked. + +In spite of being a back-slapping extrovert, he was completely +disconcerted. After years of setbacks, things had seemed to be going so +well the last time he was here. + +Grisby, who was known as an optimist, moistened his lips and ran a +shaky hand through his thinning hair. “For a historian, Mr. McGinnis, +you have come at a most historic moment. The Martian Project has just +failed!” + +Except for McGinnis taking notes, there was dead silence. Potterboy +felt suddenly ill. His cigar tasted like old rope. He wondered what he +was going to tell the government in order to justify the billions sunk +into this, as well as other planetary rehabilitation projects. To build +the solar-system into one of the finest in the galaxy, had originally +been his idea; and, for any failures, he would certainly be to blame. + +“Let’s have the details,” Potterboy said in a weak voice. + +“There’s nothing much to tell,” said Grisby, smiling wanly. “Just +before you landed, both polar furnaces melted through the ice and sank +into God knows where.” + +Potterboy looked aghast. “But how? I thought they were designed to +float, once the polar caps began to melt?” + +“So did I, but they didn’t. I can’t offer any explanation. They just +didn’t!” + +For the first time, McGinnis opened his mouth and said in a dry voice, +“I take it, then, that this was the last try to get water into the +canals?” + +“The last try,” Grisby and Potterboy both said, staring down into their +cups of coffee. + + * * * * * + +For awhile, no one said anything. Then, Grisby, more to himself than to +the others, “If only something could have been done about those damned +Blotting Pads! They, alone, have apparently ruined Mars; and caused the +only intelligent life-form to atrophy into the cone-shaped things you +see occasionally writhing in the sand.” + +McGinnis cleared his throat. “Is it true that no one has been able to +capture and analyze a Blotting Pad?” + +“They’ve been captured, but the minute they are, they crumble to dust; +and any liquid or moisture absorbed, remains in the form of a gooey +tar--of which you see traces all over the planet. + +“The only way to keep liquids is to store them in containers lined with +deuterium--heavy hydrogen, that being the one material through which +they cannot absorb. Of course, at more than ten feet distance, they +can’t absorb through anything. When we first arrived, every one thought +they would have to walk around in deuterium lined armour; but, for some +peculiar reason nobody has been able to figure out, they won’t absorb +from men. The Blotting Pads, which resemble lichens only in the vaguest +way, average two feet in diameter and can absorb up to a gallon of +water, which, almost instantly, is excreted in the form of tar. That’s +all that’s known about them. If you look out the window, McGinnis, +you’ll see them floating and crawling all over the sand.” + +McGinnis crossed over to the window and stood watching the green, +rubbery disks lying on the sand and hovering a few feet in the thin +morning air. He and Potterboy had arrived before dawn and this was his +first glimpse of them. “There must be millions of them,” he said. + +“Yes. How they breed we don’t know. To electrocute them is the only way +to kill them. Radiation, poison, or shooting won’t work; and we can’t +run around using atomics.” + +“Oh, well,” said Potterboy, breaking a long silence, “if the project to +completely melt the polar ice had been successful, in probably no time, +the Blotting Pads would have absorbed all the water in the canals, in +spite of the electrocution angle.” + +Grisby sighed bitterly. “No, it would have worked. The Pads can’t +absorb while floating, and the moment they came to rest within the ten +foot area bordering either side of the canals, the high tension cables +would have done the rest!” + +McGinnis was peering far to his left. “I take it those are the +generating plants?” + +“They were the generators--I gave orders this morning to start +dismantling operations.” + +“As I understand it,” McGinnis said, “the cables and plants are +bordering only two of the canals?” + +“Yes, all subsidiary branches were blocked off from the two main +arteries. Once the arteries became filled, and the Pads--we +hoped--electrocuted, the other branches would have been opened; +including the minor ones connecting directly with the polar caps.” + +“What do you say to taking McGinnis over to the ruins?” Potterboy +asked. “Since I’m leaving tonight, and probably never visiting Mars +again, I would like to gaze, cynically, on the business that started +this whole damned white elephant project rolling!” + +“Since you’re going to be here for a year or two, McGinnis,” Grisby +said, “you can wait and go out later, when you have more chronological +data concerning the project?” + +“No, I might as well go out now. I’m feeling rather restless and +depressed--I always do, at the end of some big dream like the Martian +Project.” + + * * * * * + +The administration buildings towered like mountains against the flat, +two-dimensional sandiness of Syrtis Major. The three men in sun goggles +and chemically cooled clothing looked like insects as they trudged +across the reddish, iron-oxide nightmare. Heat waves rolled up into +the pale sky like breakers from some gigantic ocean. Blottings Pads, +resembling shiny, green fish, darted swiftly as they moved out of the +pathway of the men. + +“We could have taken a jet out,” Grisby was saying, “but I wanted +McGinnis to see the desert, Cones, and Pads first hand. Incidentally, +there’s approximately one Pad to every twenty square feet of Mars. They +slowly, but constantly, rotate counter-clockwise around the planet. +That way, they all get a crack at what little water forms around the +polar cap edges.” + +In spite of the intense heat, Potterboy had another cigar going, on +which he would puff heavily before speaking. “Sabotage, of one sort or +another, seems to be the only answer to these polar furnaces. The first +two explode, and the second two sink! I can’t help feeling that someone +doesn’t want Mars resurrected from its sandy grave.” + +“Yes,” Grisby said, with a sarcastic laugh, “the Blotting Pads don’t! +But, then, I doubt if they know that they don’t. They’re completely +unintelligent--just a couple of instincts in a rubbery bag, absorbing +water and transmuting it into tar. And, as you know, Potterboy, all men +and technicians were given a six month psycho before being allowed to +work on the project; then carefully watched for any sign of dangerous +neuroses.” + +For awhile, they walked along listening to the crunch of their feet on +the sand, saying nothing. The ruins loomed steadily larger through the +rippling heat waves. + +Finally, Grisby said, “There is one puzzling thing--not a single man in +the eighteen years we’ve been here, has lost his life or met with an +accident.” + +“How do you account for that?” McGinnis asked. + +“I don’t. Nor can anyone else. Our equipment seems to have been the +only thing meeting with disasters.” + +“Well,” interrupted Potterboy, thinking of what he was going to have to +say back on earth, “we’ll just have to put it down to not understanding +the alien laws of chance, or the undetected forces working on Mars--if +there are any? But, outside of the ruins, the sand, and the ice caps, +the only two remaining things are the Pads and the Cones. The Pads run +around absorbing water, and the Cones bake in the sand, occasionally +sending up head-splitting telepathic squawks that no linguist can +decipher or begin to comprehend. Establishing communication has proved +impossible, in spite of their telepathic powers. And the only motion +they appear capable of is sluggishly burrowing up and down in the sand.” + +“Yes, gentlemen,” Grisby said, gravely, “we’ve failed in resurrecting +the one seemingly-intelligent life-form on Mars.” + +“How do you know they’re any more intelligent than the Pads?” +questioned McGinnis. + +“Oh, well,” said Potterboy, “the ruins show, as you shall presently +see, that they’ve developed telepathy. And they have tried +communicating with us.” + +“Also,” Grisby added, “when the first party landed to establish a base, +and started bringing water from the ships, the Cones set up shrill +mental vibrations, attempting to warn us before the Blotting Pads could +come within range and start absorbing.” + +As they came within a hundred yards of the ruins, McGinnis halted. “Are +these the ruins? Just two metal walls?” + +“The only bit of Martian culture left on the whole planet,” Potterboy +said, lighting another cigar. How he stood them in the heat, was beyond +both Grisby and McGinnis. But, then, the government official was +eccentric in many ways. + + * * * * * + +In another five minutes, McGinnis was touching the strange, glassy +surface of one of the walls; both of which, ran parallel to one another +and towered twenty-five feet into the air. + +Grisby, noticing, said, “Another indication of how advanced the +Martians were. We’ve tried everything, including atomics, on these +walls in order to get a piece for analysis--no luck. We drilled down +five thousand feet and couldn’t even find the bottom of either wall. + +“Step around to the inside here. This is where the chronological line +drawings begin, as well as the hieroglyphics, which, I’m told, the +archeologists have pretty well deciphered.” + +“We’ll have to skim rather rapidly,” Grisby continued, “in order to get +back before our helmet and suit chemicals give out.” + +McGinnis peered myopically at the huge scene pictured on the wall. It +showed several large cone-shaped creatures with long legs and arms, +similar to those of a human. In place of heads, they had stalks on +which a single eye rested, while, underneath, gaped what appeared to +be a mouth. The Cones were standing near a wall which was in front of +a city of fantastically complex architecture--yet, breath-takingly +beautiful! The surrounding landscape was a jungle of weird, luxuriant +foliage; trees and plants alike, towering hundreds of feet into the +air--almost as high as the city itself. In, and around the picture’s +foreground, several Blotting Pads were shown lying on, and hovering +over the tall grass. The wall in the drawing had the same picture on it +as the actual one McGinnis and the others were staring at. Underneath +the scene, were several rows of complex hen-scratchings. + +“From the hieroglyphics and picture,” Grisby said, “one must +conclude that this was the height of Martian culture. Hereafter, as +we walk along, you’ll notice, not only the physical and cultural +characteristics changing, but the sharp delineation of the murals +themselves becoming vague and incomprehensible.” + +They walked down the long expanse of the first wall in silence; +McGinnis with his note book, Potterboy, his cigar, and Grisby, his +shattered dreams of turning the sandy grave of Mars into the once +fertile paradise depicted in the first mural. + + * * * * * + +Each scene showed an increasing number of Blotting Pads, and a +decreasing amount of foliage. Whole gardens were shown withering +away; and huge cities being deserted, as the Pads increased, and the +greenery and water disappeared. The last scene on the wall showed the +fantastically beautiful city of the first mural, crumbling to dust with +Blotting Pads resting on the sandy waste they had created around it. + +The second wall showed the elongated legs and arms of the Cones, +shrivelling and withering. Later, the stalk with eye and mouth +vanished. Then the Cones began to shrink until they were only an eighth +their original size. The final, comprehensible scene showed the Cones +buried in sand with Blotting Pads all around them. Strange dotted +and wavering lines--telepathic symbols--connected the apex of each +Cone with that of its neighbor. After that, the remaining scenes fell +sharply off into incomprehensibility, leaving the later portion of the +wall completely blank. + +As the three men reached the second wall’s end, several Cones came into +view, being grouped more closely than the thousands of others scattered +willy-nilly over the planet. + +McGinnis stopped short. “So these are what they atrophied into from +lack of water,” he said, sadly. Shifting his gaze, he glared bitterly +at the Blotting Pads, covering most of the desert as far as the eye +could see. + +Potterboy and Grisby followed suit, staring off into the approaching +dusk at the one big stumbling block which had prevented them from +resurrecting Mars. + + * * * * * + +The humans had left. + +All traces of their coming had been obliterated by the sea of restless +sand, except one thing--a spherical deuterium water-container; which, +during the windy season, would be buffeted about the planet this way +and that, the law of averages occasionally causing it to crack into the +timeless Martian wall. At such times, the Cones would philosophically +contemplate it and the peculiar, yet likeable, creatures that had +brought it. + +One Cone, who was considered a little strange by his brothers +because he lacked the philosophic intensity for complete introverted +contemplation, one day, broke the telepathic silence; a thing +considered still stranger by his brothers, since it was thought very +rude to disturb one another, except in times of extreme importance. + +_“A shame we could not communicate ... strain incurred destroying +furnaces ... thousands of years to erase ...”_ + +Weakened by many buffetings, the water sphere hit the wall for the +last time. With a crack it split in half, splashing gallons of water +far up the wall. The nearest Cones shrieked in telepathic unison as +the Life-Destroyer splashed nearby! Almost immediately, directed by +the urgency of their commands, their organic-robots--the Blotting +Pads--were hurling themselves upon the death giving liquid! + +The Cones, at the height of their evolutionary ascent, one by one, +returned to the contemplation of eternity. Once and for all time, the +danger was past. + + + + +Transcriber’s note: + + + This etext was produced from Dynamic Science Fiction, December 1952 + (Vol. 1, No. 1.). Extensive research did not uncover any evidence + that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + Obvious errors have been silently corrected in this version, but + minor inconsistencies have been retained as printed. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78703 *** |