Nobody had ever flown through space, still
I was supposed to do it and bring back an alien
for Marsten's circus. Nonsense, you say? Meet—
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
August 1954
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
It's still very clear in my mind. The whole episode. The afternoonvisit to Marsten's office, the trip to Mars, and the journey back.
It was one of those warm summer afternoons. All one craved for was apatch of green grass to recline on and maybe a faint breeze to tingleone's forehead. I was sure of the grass and hopeful for the breeze.But one of Marsten's messengers popped up and the grass and the breezewould have to wait. After all, Marsten was my boss.
He had his office in the Empire State Building. Norbert Marsten was theowner of the Marsten Circus, the greatest, biggest, loudest circus inthe world. And if you don't believe it, ask Mr. Marsten.
"Sit down, Nick," he invited, speaking from one corner of his mouth asthe other corner was busy chewing a dollar cigar. Marsten was a smallman with sleek black, hair. A small man with big ideas.
I sat down.
"Nick, you're the best 'bring 'em back alive' man I've got. The best."
This was very true. "You've got a job for me," I said.
"That's correct."
"So why the buildup? Tell me what you want."
"I want something that no other circus has."
"You must be kidding. You have every known animal there is. Why, thebushmaster I brought you two months ago is the longest—"
"It isn't exactly an animal I want."
"Oh? You mean you want a performer? What the hell have I got to do—"
"What I want is out of this world."
"A different kind of act? I still say—"
"I want a Martian."
I was glad I didn't have a mirror in front of my face. I could imaginehow foolish I looked with my mouth hanging open.
"I even have a name picked out for him," Marsten persisted. "Marty, theMartian. What do you think of that?"
I stood up slowly. "Let me know when you've recovered."
Marsten came around the desk. "Sit down. Now listen to me. Did you everhear of a man named Hendrick Ritter?"
"No."
"The greatest scientist in the world. He's been working for me for overa year. I hired him to do one particular job for me: to concoct a fuelthat will get a space ship to Mars and back. Well, it's done. Did youever hear of a man named Sam Young?"
"Same answer as before."
"He's a designer for air ships. The best in the business. He's finisheda job for me. And, Nick, it's already built. And I've got Joe Roaneworking for me."
"I've heard of him," I said.
"The greatest pilot in the world," Marsten said.
"The greatest this, the greatest that. And for what? Why, the shipprobably won't get off the ground."
Marsten chewed furiously on his cigar. "But what if it does get offthe ground? What if it does get to Mars?"
"All right. So what? How do you know there's life on Mars?"
"There is. I hired the greatest—"
"Oh, no," I groaned. "I believe you, I believe you. So now we're onMars."
"You capture a Martian and bring him back."
"What if he doesn't care to be captured?"
"What do I pay you for?"
I thought this out, then said, "To capture Martians."
"Exactly."
"You wouldn't settle for a moon maiden, would you? I heard they'recute. And sexy."
"A Martian." He was very adamant. "I'll have the greatest attraction inthe world. Nick, I'm the kind who gets what he wants. I've spe