THE LAST MARTIAN
By RAYMOND VAN HOUTEN
The great pumps of Mars were slowly
stopping. Unless the strange being
from far-off Gamtl could renew their
life-giving flow, a once-mighty
planet would die.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Spring 1942.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Peetn drew his cloak more firmly about his furry shoulders as the sunbegan to sink through the Martian sky and the wind throbbed a deepernote in the gathering darkness. He stood gazing silently as the fadinglight painted the sky in somber colors, preparing to disappear foranother night of screaming wind and penetrating sub-zero cold.
He watched until the twilight deepened to purple and then stalkedlaboriously into the wind, up the gentle slope toward the little hollowwhere he went each night.
His tall, articulated form strode across the dusty plain. By the timehe had reached the foot of the bank the sky was totally blank, exceptfor the stars, and he could barely propel himself forward againstthe raging world-wide currents of atmosphere. The last few yards hecrawled on his bellyplates. He tumbled into the central hollow and layexhausted, his lungs sucking in and out—
The cry of a Martian odlat would not be audible to human ears, butthe screech which emanated within an inch of Peetn's ear-cupulassent paralyzing waves of terror washing to the tip of his spinytail. He skirled in agony as inch-long teeth crunched savagely intohis shoulder, and the odlat, startled, let go. Peetn's tentaclesshot beneath the flapping folds of his cloak and the night-dark wasshattered in a hissing blaze of light. The headless corpse of theodlat thudded to the ground. Black reaction smote Peetn a blowsomewhere inside, and the Martian lost consciousness.
It was after midnight that he awoke to the agonizing throb of hispoisoned shoulder. His faculties returned somewhat, and he crawledpainfully over to a little niche in the rocks, where he kept his scantstores. Extracting a few pieces of twisted root which had a slightmedicinal quality, he plugged the holes left by the odlat's fangs.Soon, under the soporific influence of the whining wind, he dropped offinto a feverish, agitated sleep.
The Martian awoke just before noon of the next day and found that thecrude poultices he had applied to his wounds had been more effectivethan he had expected. The shoulder still hurt, but with the gentle acheof healing tissues rather than the savage bite of newly-torn nerves.The effect of the odlat poison had worn off, and outside of a slightweakness and dizziness, Peetn felt nothing amiss in his interior. Heslowly unwound from where he lay and stretched to his full height.
The body of the odlat lay where it had fallen the night before,headless and beginning to stiffen. The dominant race of Mars could uselittle of this altogether useless and dangerous beast, namely the earsand eyeballs, and if the animal were not too old, the tail. This fierceold reprobate was entirely worthless therefore, and Peetn dragged itout into the desert and threw it into a pit. It could not be left lyingnear his hollow to draw other odlats to the spot.
He returned from his errand and prepared for another day at hisappointed duties.
The routine of caring for a Martian water-station is neithercomplicated nor arduous, being hardly more than a daily inspectiontour. No Martian alive understood the methods