Transcriber's Note:
This etext of Valley of Dreams by Stanley G. Weinbaum wasproduced from "A Martian Odyssey and Others"published in 1949. Extensive research did not uncoverany evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Paginationcorresponds to that of the original text.
Captain Harrison of the Ares expedition turned away from the littletelescope in the bow of the rocket. "Two weeks more, at the most," heremarked. "Mars only retrogrades for seventy days in all, relative tothe earth, and we've got to be homeward bound during that period, orwait a year and a half for old Mother Earth to go around the sun andcatch up with us again. How'd you like to spend a winter here?"
Dick Jarvis, chemist of the party, shivered as he looked up from hisnotebook. "I'd just as soon spend it in a liquid air tank!" he averred."These eighty-below zero summer nights are plenty for me."
"Well," mused the captain, "the first successful Martian expeditionought to be home long before then."
"Successful if we get home," corrected Jarvis. "I don't trust thesecranky rockets—not since the auxiliary dumped me in the middle of Thylelast week. Walking back from a rocket ride is a new sensation to me."
"Which reminds me," returned Harrison, "that we've got to recover yourfilms. They're important if we're to pull this trip out of the red.Remember how the public mobbed the first moon pictures? Our shots oughtto pack 'em to the doors. And the broadcast rights, too; we might show aprofit for the Academy."
"What interests me," countered Jarvis, "is a personal profit. A book,for instance; exploration books are always popular. MartianDeserts—how's that for a title?"
"Lousy!" grunted the captain. "Sounds like a cook-book for desserts.You'd have to call it 'Love Life of a Martian,' or something like that."
Jarvis chuckled. "Anyway," he said, "if we once get back home, I'm goingto grab what profit there is, and never, never, get any farther from theearth than a good stratosphere plane'll take me. I've learned toappreciate the planet after plowing over this dried-up pill we're onnow."
"I'll lay you odds you'll be back here year after next," grinned theCaptain. "You'll want to visit your pal—that trick ostrich."
"Tweel?" The other's tone sobered. "I wish I hadn't lost him, at that.He was a good scout. I'd never have survived the dream-beast but forhim. And that battle with the push-cart things—I never even had achance to thank him."
"A pair of lunatics, you two," observed Harrison. He squinted throughthe port at the gray gloom of the Mare Cimmerium. "There comes the sun."He paused. "Listen, Dick—you and Leroy take the other auxiliary rocketand go out and salvage those films."
Jarvis stared. "Me and Leroy?" he echoed ungrammatically. "Why not meand Putz? An engineer would have some chance of getting us there andback if the rocket goes bad on us."
The captain nodded toward the stern, whence issued at that moment amedley of blows and guttural expletives. "Putz is going over the insidesof the Ares," he announced. "He'll have his hands full until we leave,because I want every bolt inspected. It's too late for repairs once wecast off."
"And if Leroy and I crack up? That's our last auxiliary."
"Pick up another ostrich and walk back," suggested Harrison gruffly.Then he smiled. "If you have trouble, we'll hunt you out in the Ares,"he finished. "Those films are important." He turned. "Leroy!"
The dapper little biologist appeared, his fac