In the year 2038, the United
Kingdom launched a military-based organisation designed to protect/assist its
national defence forces against foreign interests. Although the 'Spectrum'
project was supported by the United Nations, most of the funding came from the
UK and several Western European countries (all of which fell under Spectrum's
jurisdiction).
Thanks to the success of the
project, the organisation soon began efforts to colonise the moon that would
later result in the Lunarville projects. By 2060, ore mining and mineral
processing had become the Moon's largest export to Earth, supplying mass
quantities of fuel and construction materials to Spectrum and several other
military organisations.
It was a further five years before any attempt was made to send a manned expedition to Mars. At the time, it was publicised that the greatest danger of travelling through space was lethal radiation from solar flares. However, Spectrum officials had secretly become aware of several disturbing 'anomalies' concerning the planet Mars, particularly concentrated around the Cydonia Mensae region. Unmanned probes sent to the planet in the past had been inexplicably lost, while observations from the planet continued to suggest a technological presence of some kind.
It was decided that NASA should
have nothing to do with the first manned mission to Mars, and a heavily
fortified Spectrum spacecraft was designed to carry a crew of four. After a
fierce and very thorough screening process, Captain Black was accepted to lead
the mission to investigate the anomalies. Construction of the spacecraft was
completed by the spring of 2065. The journey to Mars was estimated to take six
to eight months.
The Spectrum team arrived on the
outskirts of Cydonia Mensae just after midday on 12th December 2065 GMT.
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Dust often blew thick across the
Martian plains. It was natural to the planet's behaviour. Global dust storms
could cloak the entire planet for months on end, as Russian scientists had
discovered to their dismay in the autumn of 1971 when the probes Mars 2 and
Mars 3 arrived in orbit above the red planet. Following a pre-programmed set
of instructions that were irreversible, the probes deployed one lander each into the midst of
140-kilometre-per-second winds that smashed them to pieces against the
barren landscape. In the meantime, their respective orbiting probes took
picture upon picture of a planet enveloped in dust. Dust that shielded the
entire planetary surface from any prying eyes in a colossal storm that would
continue to last long beyond the lifespan of the probes' cameras.
"It's damn peculiar," Captain
Mauve stated from the navigation chair of Spectrum's Mars Exploration Vehicle.
"Too many coincidences, too many failed missions. And not all the fault of one
organisation either. Both America and Russia sent probes of their own design to
Mars using different methods. And they still both suffered from failure."
Sitting in front of Captain
Mauve, in the pilot and co-pilot's chairs, sat Captain Yellow and Captain Black.
They had left Captain Mint at the landing module over two hours ago and had been
travelling towards the site of the anomalous readings. Black was busy monitoring
the buggy's progress across the Martian surface at 20 kilometres per hour. It
was Yellow who replied to Mauve's statement.
"Those were early days. Both
scientists and engineers were still in a sharp learning curve regarding space
travel. Most of the probes that failed were lost because of technical
inaccuracies, not external interference."
Mauve, seated in the back, was
undeterred. "Allegedly, maybe. But look at the facts... The Russian probe Mars 1
- lost within 195,000 kilometres of the planet in 1963. Or NASA's Mariner 3,
also lost en-route to Mars in 1964."
"Ah, but the Mariner 3 was only a
technical fault," Yellow interrupted. "Its protective fibre glass shroud was
supposed to
detach
after leaving Earth's orbit."
"That's only the official
explanation."
Yellow sighed exasperatedly.
"Urgh! We're here to investigate the strange readings discovered by past probes,
Captain, not
theorise on why the probes
were lost."
"I'm just saying that it's damn
peculiar."
"Thank you for that profound
statement."
"Remember the Russian Zond 2
probe?" Mauve went on. "Also lost in 1965 travelling from Earth to Mars."
"Thank you Captain Mauve."
"And the Phobos probes... Phobos
1 disappeared en-route."
"THANK you, Captain Mauve."
Mauve ceased talking, and Yellow
consulted his computer display.
"Phobos 2 made it to Martian
orbit before losing all contact..." Mauve quietly said.
Yellow buried his head in his
hands and sighed again. "Don't you ever give up?"
"These are all facts, Captain."
Yellow turned in his co-pilot's
seat to look back at him. "You want success stories? How about NASA's Mariner 4?
It closed to within 10,000 kilometres of Mars and took 21 photographs in 1964.
Mariner 9 took over 7000 pictures of the Martian surface by the end of 1972.
Mars Global Surveyor began mapping the planet from orbit in 1998. Mars
Pathfinder landed a rover probe on the surface to analyse ground samples by the
turn of the millennium..." He paused to take note of the defeated look on
Mauve's face. "Shall I go on?"
Mauve hissed through his teeth.
"NASA worshipper..." he mumbled.
"What was that?"
"That's enough," said Captain
Black, who until recently had allowed the two of them to talk it out. "We're
approaching the site. Turn on the cameras and warm up the sensor mappers."
Yellow cast a discreet look at
Mauve before responding. "Aye aye, Sir." He activated the relevant machinery. "Cameras on."
"Mappers booting up," Yellow
reported. "We'll be ready to record in a couple of minutes."
The buggy trundled over the
crushed rock and fine sediment that covered the ground before them. Black slowed
the vehicle to ten kilometres an hour as they began a shallow ascent up an
incline. Each of them felt their safety belts press into their chests - the
uneven landscape protesting against the buggy's suspension. A few minutes later
they eventually reached the summit, and Black ordered Captain Mauve to activate
the sensor mappers.
"So what are we expecting to see
out here?" Yellow said quietly, directing the question to Mauve.
"I'm an expert on probes, not
fortune telling."
"All that knowledge and not even
a theory?"
"I thought I told you two to pack
it in," Black said firmly. "This isn't a training simulation, let's pull it
together. You're supposed to be professionals."
"Aye, Sir."
"Sorry, Sir."
The buggy suddenly chugged to a
halt as Black stopped the vehicle without warning. A deathly hush filled the
interior cabin as the three of them looked out at the ghostly space ahead of
them.
"What the hell...?" said Mauve.
Yellow shook his head. "Is
that...?"
In the crater below them stood an
arrangement of structures resembling skyscrapers. 'Towers', for lack of a better
word, were placed in formation around smaller buildings. The whole complex was
shimmering with an unearthly glow.
"Are the cameras recording?"
asked Captain Black.
Yellow made a quick check. "Yes,
Sir. The lander module should be getting all of this within a few seconds."
"What do the sensor mappers tell
us?"
"Just a minute," said Mauve from
behind the two of them.
Black looked back out at the
alien 'city'. He couldn't make out any roads from this far away, nor could he
spot any movement.
"What do you make of it, Captain
Yellow?" he asked.
"I... I don't know, Sir. I'm not
sure we should risk taking the buggy in any closer. We might startle whoever's
down there."
"IF anyone is down there." Black
double-checked the stinger missiles placed in the side-carriage compartments of
the buggy. Standard procedure that was outlined in their mission briefing.
"Captain Mauve, how's it coming with the sensor mappers?"
"Data is coming in now, Sir.
But..." He paused, squinting at the readout on his computer display.
"But what?"
"It's scrambled. For some reason
the computer is feeding out the information in it's raw state. We'll need to
take the recorded information back to the lander module to decode any of it."
"Keep recording. Get as much data
as you can."
"Sir!" Yellow exclaimed. "Out
there, by the far right tower."
Both Captain Black and Captain
Mauve looked out to the area he was indicating. Another structure was rising
from beneath the surface, long and metallic in shape. A second similar pole rose
from the opposing side of the 'city'. Each pole carried a rectangular instrument
at their tip, strongly resembling a cannon or a similar class of weapon.
"They've spotted us," said Mauve.
"We don't know that," replied
Yellow. "This could be a normal procedure for them."
"Agreed," said Captain Black.
"Arm the stinger missiles, but don't fire unless I give the order."
Yellow ran through a quick
routine of computer commands. "Stinger missiles armed."
The three Spectrum officers
continued to watch the two poles as they slid out of their recesses, extending
far beyond the peak of the highest building in the strange 'city'.
"Sir," said Yellow. "I don't like
the look of those devices on top of the poles."
"Nor do I, Captain," replied
Black. "What do you make of them?"
"Some kind of weapon?"
"It looks that way," said Mauve.
"We're in trouble if they're hostile."
Black's growing anxiety forced
him to look down at the weapons display to double-check the stinger missiles
were armed. He had hoped he wouldn't encounter a situation like this.
The two poles finally stopped
moving, and remained dormant for a while. Captain Black decided to take the
initiative.
"All right, let's show them that
we come in peace. Activate the radio and broadcast on all frequencies."
"Microphone on," Mauve reported.
"This is Captain Black from the
Spectrum vehicle located on the ridge of the crater. We mean you no harm. Please
respond."
He nodded to Mauve to turn off
the radio and the three of them remained silent, looking out at their new
discovery. It was a few moments before anyone spoke.
"Nothing..." said Yellow, shaking
his head.
Mauve's voice was almost a
whisper. "Maybe they don't take kindly to visitors."
"Wait, look!" exclaimed Yellow.
"Out there."
The instruments atop each pole swivelled on their axis towards them, and
came to a stop. Their cross hairs were lined up precisely on the buggy.
"They're hostile!" said Mauve.
"Fire the stingers," Captain
Black ordered.
Twin missile carriages popped out
from the side of the buggy and launched two surface-to-surface warheads towards
each of the pole-like structures. Twin explosions blossomed heavenwards. The
poles' bases collapsed with remarkable ease, as if they hadn't been designed to
take very much punishment.
None of the crew aboard the
Spectrum Buggy had time to consider such constructional errors, however, as they
stared in horror at the overkill they had caused. They had only aimed at the
poles that had turned on them, but the collapsing structures instead toppled
onto the rest of the buildings. Like the poles themselves, the buildings
collapsed with surprising delicacy, spreading debris and dust across the entire
crater. It was devastation on an appalling scale.
Captain Black closed his eyes.
Neither of his colleagues spoke a word - there was no need to. It was some time
before Black opened his eyes and faced what he had done. The crater lay in smoke
and ruins, rubble littering the area where the shimmering structures had stood
but moments ago.
Captain Black finally found his
voice, though it was weighted with the burden of massacre. "Send a message back
to Captain Mint at the lander module. Tell him what has happened here."
Mauve nodded, and jerkily got to
work. Black was saddened by the fact he was still frightened by the alien
'city', rather than feeling remorse. He looked over at Yellow to see what his
reaction was. Yellow, however, seemed decidedly neutral. Probably for the best,
he thought.
"Message sent," Mauve eventually
reported. "Captain Mint will be able to report back to Spectrum Headquarters on
Earth as soon he receives it."
Black nodded heavily. "Very
well."
"Wait," Yellow said quietly.
"I... I think something's moving down there..."
"Where?" replied Black, and
peered down into the smoke.
"There," said Yellow. "That hatch
just-"
He broke off as the three
officers watched two more poles slide out from beneath ground. Again, each on
opposing sides of the alien 'city'.
"They're still attacking," said
Mauve.
"Arm two more stinger missiles,"
Black said quickly.
Despite his remorse, his
aggressive action had declared hostility to whoever was living in the 'city'.
Fighting back was the only option he had left. All others had abandoned him when
he'd given the first order to fire.
"Missiles armed," reported
Yellow.
"Fire."
Again, two white streaks crossed
paths from the buggy and struck the base of the rising poles, blossoming dust
and sediment upwards in twin mushroom clouds. However, this time the poles
withstood the blast. Black watched helplessly as the metallic objects continued
to rise above the 'city', undeterred by the stinger missiles.
"Did we miss the targets?" he
asked.
"No, Sir," replied Yellow. "They
were both direct hits. They just withstood our impact this time."
"We're getting out of here,"
decided Black, pushing the buggy's gears into reverse. "Captain Mauve, plot us a
clear course away from this crater."
"Aye, Sir."
The exploration vehicle kicked up
a trail of dust as it began to back away from the destroyed alien edifice. The
controls whined against Captain Black's almost-desperate urging to reverse at
full speed from their imminent destruction. But even as Black and Mauve tried
their best to get the buggy to safety, Yellow shook his head.
"It's too late," he told the
others. "They're going to fire at any second now."
And so they did. The instruments
on top of each pole simultaneously unleashed an eerie ray of light. But it was
not directed at the Spectrum buggy, it was directed at the wrecked alien
buildings.
Black released the protesting
vehicle controls and looked on at the bizarre events. Both poles were spreading
light across the crater. "What's that?" he asked.
"I haven't a clue..." said
Yellow. His voice was almost a whisper.
Black's heart sank into his
stomach as the unearthly process began to take shape. As the immense light began
to fade away, the buildings they had destroyed were once again standing in their
original positions. Towers that had collapsed were standing tall and proud as if
nothing had happened, and the entire city was suddenly there once again. As if
nothing had happened.
Untouched...
Black wasn't sure if he should be
grateful or terrified. Different emotions fought for dominance in his mind.
Fear, incomprehension, awe, relief... None of the extensive mission training
he'd undertaken had prepared him for something like this.
The city remained standing in its
original, undamaged state, while the two poles that had reconstructed it slid
back down into their recesses.
"Does..." Yellow began. His voice
was croaky, and he cleared his throat before continuing. "Does that mean the
first two poles we saw... They weren't weapons?"
"We're about to find out..." said
Mauve. "They're rising up again."
No. Black suddenly knew what had
happened. It was so clear to him now, so clear that he wanted to kick himself.
Whoever was down there... They hadn't meant to attack the buggy, they weren't
being hostile...
"Wrong," Black quietly mumbled to
himself, almost catatonically.
Both Yellow and Mauve looked at
him. "Sir?" they quizzed.
"Let me be wrong..." Black
replied.
Yellow cast a discreet glance
back at Mauve, but received only a shrug in response. "Sir, what are your
orders?" he asked.
"They were... trying to
communicate," said Black. "They weren't trying to fire at us, they were...
Trying to communicate." He closed his eyes. "Oh please let me be wrong..."
But even as Black feared he might
be right, his fears were confirmed. The poles they had assumed to be weapons
turned on them. But instead of unleashing a weapon, it unleashed a message. A
message so burning its implication that Black could barely bring himself to
listen.
He had fired on a race that had
wanted to talk, not fight. He had made a mistake that would remain with him for
the rest of his life.
"Incoming message," Yellow said
in a baffled voice. "It's in English."
"Play it," he said.
Yellow activated the audio
speaker, and the three officers heard a terrible voice relay a message. A
message that would be relayed to the whole of Earth, and that would strike fear
into the hearts of the innocents. A message that began with seven words.
Seven words that would continue
to be feared long after the events of today.
"This is the voice of the
Mysterons..."
DISCLAIMER: The characters used
in this story are the sole right of Gerry Anderson.
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