"Do you think you could stand it for a while without me, if I were doing something really important? — something that would do the whole world a lot of good? Oh, I might as well tell you… See that red star up there? It's Mars, and they've decided they want me to take out the first trip; Flight One. Some new photos made from Lunetta make it pretty sure that it's inhabited, and the President of the Earth wants us to go and see if the people up there could possibly want to start a war."
There was a sobbing undertone in Catherine Holt's voice as she answered. "Just like you men! You'll never get over being children! You get this old Earth reasonably well regulated, you finally establish peace on Earth, and it begins to look as though there were no more enemies and no more wars. And just as we're getting settled in a place we both like and can afford, off you go, hunting for more trouble in Space…"
"But darling," he returned, "this isn't a simple, childish matter at all. Just suppose for a moment that these Mars people should suddenly drop down and take possession of Lunetta! Surely you realize that that might be fatal for all of us, since Lunetta can atom bomb any spot on Earth. All they'd have to do to dominate the whole Earth would be to control Lunetta. And from what we can find out from their operations on their own planet, they should be just as capable of coming to us as we are of going to them."
"Well," said she, "if they're as dangerous as all that, why haven't they come here long ago?"
"Perhaps they have been here… Ten thousand or one hundred thousand years isn't so very long, when you figure it cosmically. How far back do you think our history goes?"
With growing enthusiasm, Holt began to explain the significance of the Martian canals, the areas of vegetation, the seasonal variations and the conditions affecting living matter. These had probably forced the Martians to adopt extreme technical measures in order to survive at all upon a planet so old and so deprived of moisture. One could hardly tell, said he, whether the intelligent beings on Mars might not be gazing with envy upon the Earth, where conditions affecting life would appear so much more easy. There was no reason in the universe why such a condition might not have been pictured for them by their advanced astronomers… Why, they might even now be considering a general exodus towards Earth, and the results of anything like that upon humanity might well be incalculable.
Catherine Holt could hardly take in her husband's fantastic peroration. Despite his wanderings in and out of the atmosphere, she'd always kept her feet on the ground, forming a quiet and practical balance wheel which had steadied his sidereal gyrations.
She loved him and the children and their home, and had always regarded with tolerant amusement the call of the wild blue yonder which so stirred the hearts of men. But her heart told her that no small part of the real love she felt for her husband was directly due to his devotion, infantile though it might seem, to the romance of flight. Like the love for the sea of a sailor who has "swallowed the anchor" too young, she saw Gary's yearning for the outer spaces reawaken after a few short years of rest and quiet. Torn by the knowledge that he would be gone for a long time, on an adventure of high daring and distant danger, she knew that she neither could nor should hold him back. His heart would break, were he to follow the exploits of some other leader through the papers and the radio, his body in his familiar armchair, but his soul winging through space. She'd be no true spaceman's wife were she to hinder him by so much as a thought. When she spoke, her voice had an aging quality in it.
"Gary, it's wonderful," she said. "I'll be the proudest woman on Earth…" He felt her soft lips on his cheek and his arms instinctively went around her for a long time. He could not miss her brimming eyes as they separated.
"When do you expect to get started?" she asked.
"That's still indefinite, so far as I'm concerned. We've got a lot of checking to do to see whether it's practical at all. That will decide whether the attempt will be made. And after the decision, the date will depend upon a lot of things. First of all, Spencer will have to build the ships, which will take all of two years. Then we have to choose the proper apposition between the planets, and I'm entirely in the dark as to that. Don't worry, I'll be here for a long time yet, but I might be pretty busy and have to get around a lot…" Her answer was what he had expected. "Just let me know what you want me to do…"
A tough-looking little man of fifty-five, in a Space Forces General's uniform, sat in an elaborate office in the Bureau of Earth Security in Garden City, Long Island. Humphrey L. Braden had the chiseled features and hawk-like profile which naturally went with the ex-Squadron-Leader of a supersonic jet-bombing outfit in the U.S. Air Force. Now he was Commanding General of the Space Forces, mainly because of the remarkable technical ability which had finally earned him a transfer to the Planning Staff of the Air
Force. It was there that his dynamic driving power had urged slower minds on to the creation of the great, multi-stage rocket ships which had made the construction of Lunetta become an actual project. He it was who had visualized the military importance of a manned artificial satellite, circling the Earth like the Moon and requiring no power to do so. And it was he who had made it his life's task to overcome the objections of the doubters who had opposed the plan as visionary and impractical, and who had endeavored to frustrate it on that basis. Finally, he had established the Space Forces of the U.S.A. as coequal with the Air Force, Army and Navy. This happened when the last war proved that conventional bombing was no match for the Russian anti-aircraft rockets. Then the Jupiter-type space ships were beginning to successfully circle the Earth and prove that the construction of an artificial satellite, such as he had been advocating, was not only possible, but imperative. As the father of the Space Force of the U.S.A., he was appointed its Supreme Commander, and later, when the United States of the Earth became a reality, he succeeded to the new post of Commanding General of the Space Forces of the Earth, reporting to the Secretary for World Security. Such was the man awaiting Gary Holt. When the latter entered, he was greeted like an old friend. They both sat down and Braden began the conversation.
"Spencer has let the cat out of the bag, or so I've heard," said the General. "What do you think of it?"
"Anything as big as that is mighty tempting, sir. But so far I've no very definite idea of how the whole thing will shape up, and I'm most anxious to hear how you've got it figured in detail…"
"Of course you would be; I can't blame you for that. So I might as well tell you that the planning part of the thing is still extremely sketchy. It's that part of it that's your pidgin. You're to carry on with the planning, and work it out in detail. Above all, I want you to balance the technical requirements against the materials and means that are available now. In other words, it's up to you to synchronize the whole business. But let me tell you our overall outline of the enterprise." Braden reached for a document on his desk and began to read from it.
"Objective and Implementation of Operation Mars.
1. Operation Mars contemplates an expedition to the Planet Mars in order to determine whether the latter is inhabited by intelligent beings who might, now or at some later date, carry out any hostile design upon the Earth or any outpost thereof. Said expedition is simultaneously, if possible, to carry out an extensive program of research with regard to conditions on the Planet Mars.
2. Operation Mars will be carried out by the Space Forces under the direct supervision of the Commanding General. The Commanding Officer of the expedition will be an officer of the Space Forces appointed by the Commanding General." At that point, Braden nodded at Holt, as much as to say, You 're it.