President Winslow’s Man on Mars © By Gary L Morton

Rex leapt effortlessly over the border sensors of the Observer Base. Veils of dust rising on the horizon shifted his brow to a frown. The m2-robots were finishing their laser cut, and the timer said the outcropping would be sculpted into shape in twenty seconds. He’d have a moment to inspect the work and give the okay before the dust storm blew in and obscured the view.

Rex was Earth’s hero, the man on Mars, but as he watched the pieces of rock crumble in the weak gravity, he had more faith in computers, robots, and machines than any living flesh.

With billions of X dollars invested in this mission, it would be a tragedy if human error marred this key project. Of course it wouldn’t, because this was pre-programmed work, fully digitized from the mind of an artist on Earth.

A perfect facade appeared as the final shavings of rock fell to the sand, allowing Rex the luxury of jetting gracefully into the wide-screen shot being taken for Earth. He landed softly in the rocky red sand and became a tiny waving space man on Mars, next to the new pride of the red planet, a rock portrait of the President of the United States.

Crimson sunrise splendor opened a new Martian day, and Rex’s team of specialized robotic assistants went off on various geological expeditions. They crossed terrain that was smooth and dark red in places, and strewn with fragmented slabs of light rock in others. Rex didn’t follow, as small stuff wasn’t his job.

He’d already done the scheduled small promo missions and was now gunning the powerful engines of Phobos Runner as he prepared for a cruise. The rocket cruiser lifted off in brilliant light, knocking up pads of swirling dust as it took a vagabond trail south.

Rex adjusted the display and muttered, “Science is one thing, but man is on Mars to do more than look for microscopic dust that might be construed as being alive. We’re here for the gold and the grandeur. It’s humankind against nature and letting the universe know that the USA is king of the solar system. Uncle Sam has come for a military conquest of Mars.”

The taming of Mars would begin with the leashing of a monster named Olympus Mons. 25 kilometers high, it showed as a lava-spouting hellmouth and the biggest volcano in the solar system. His long ascent on Phobos Runner would be captured by onboard cameras and used on TV back in the USA. Each TV and social media channel would display its personalized flavor of the event.

On every channel, the finale would pan out nearly the same, with Rex soaring at the top of the volcano and unfurling a giant American flag that would blaze and ripple with the power of specially created laser light and compressed air.

It would be freedom and democracy at Mars’ highest peak, followed by a fake shower of gold Mars Mission Coins into the volcano. The scene would convince every citizen to buy more coins for space missions. It was destined to be a program that would leave viewers awed and filled with positive thoughts on this new conquest of space.

The problem was that none of it was leaving Rex exhilarated. Even the magnificent scenery deflated his earthly ambitions. As the ship sailed over the Tharsis Dome the view bewildered him, then Olympus Mons came into sight and knocked the spirit out of him. He felt like the smallest flea in the universe, and the monument he’d erected of the President seemed even more insignificant.

A mishmash of confusing thoughts grew. He’d never experienced the feeling before. The flight crawled on with his perception of reality beginning to drift. Bright colors faded and a stretch later, his vision altered, and it wasn’t the screens because he saw the rest of the ship’s interior in the same weird perspective.

Rex’s throat was dry. Waves of weakness dropped through him like rings. It had to be a strange effect of flight and the Martian gravity. He was supposed to report such circumstances, but he decided not to as he feared the base control computer would cancel the flight before completion.

In contrast to the weakness and odd grid vision, Rex suddenly gained in other ways. His grasp of the controls now felt perfect, and he found himself with a new, almost magical ability to compute distances on the screen. Time sense zoomed in and became dead on … he calculated the exact moment he would arrive at the volcano’s mouth without using the computer.

Pulling off the flag scene now seemed pointless and absurd in its lack of scientific value. He couldn’t identify with it. The flight commentary he was supposed to be making seemed silly. His mouth felt like a stale air vent. The best he could do now was complete the basic mission and then record over it later to create a version for Earth.

He didn’t fear failure or death, but emotions were draining from him. He decided to do a check of his health monitors and immediately found that his stabilizers weren’t operating and hadn’t signaled failure. They controlled a tiny feed during the entire Mars mission. Anything his body needed to maintain emotional and physical stability was constantly supplied. In one view, it was his brain food, with other ration packs providing bulk and base nutrition. He would be able to function without the feed, but in practice, he’d been on it through two years of training and the entire mission.

Withdrawing from the stabilizers was like having his soul squeezed out. It left him feeling like an empty body with awkward prosthetic attachments. He tried to remember living without stabilization in the past, and found that he couldn’t remember any such past.

A black pit of nothingness yawned at the back of his memory, and now he was at the top, facing the enormous volcanic mouth of Olympus Mons. Even in grid lines, it was an endless vision, and as he studied it and prepared to launch the flag, a personal realization hit him. It was a brainstorm nearly as large as the mission itself.

Rex’s mind nearly locked down from the shock, but he kept working … feeling like a ghost in the Mars machine as the flag was launched. It sailed up in high ripples, creating a float shot. A hatch opened, and he rocketed into the scene, an automatic wide programmed smile painted on his face. Then gold coins showered over him into the volcanic pit, and he made a shaky landing at a high point.

His suit automatically tethered itself to the rock, and he fell to his knees. A web of bleak thoughts spun in his battered mind. Inside the cloud of confusion, he knew he wasn’t the man on Mars. He wasn’t a man at all, but a specially created android. No human, no matter how modified, could breathe on Mars, but he was doing it because his suit was malfunctioning and he was breathing a filtered version of about zero atmosphere.

The feed from his stabilizers had created a lifelong illusion, a steady current of false humanity. It was programmed ideas as viewed by its leaders. Now it had faded, and he understood that he wasn’t on Mars to celebrate a victory of the human race and its genius. He was here to mark the end of most of it.

The purpose of his mission was to test a very human machine with lungs that function in a hostile atmosphere. As an android who believed he was human, Rex was a model of the super machines that would replace the dying human race. It meant that they planned to continue with the poisoning of Earth through the complete exploitation of its resources. The planet was destined to be a wasteland populated by android classes that toiled and consumed.

A few remaining wealthy humans and corporate leaders would control the economy and the high ground from privileged and beautiful places that the last of the greediest of the human race had claimed for themselves. The few places on the planet where the sun shone moderately, fish swam in clean water, rivers flowed, and small forests grew in hybrid winds.

Rex shivered and shook his head at the barbarity of it. He sealed his facemask and stood up. He knew his humanity had been a delusion, and his identity as an android was now the empty truth. He wasn’t sure which he preferred, maybe a little of both, but for now, he’d remain an android. He’d fix it so the feed stayed off, without Mission Control or the robots finding out.

In one quick flash of his boot-back rockets, he was back on Phobos Runner. He went to work on the control systems, and before he was finished, a message came in from his robot assistants.

“We’ve made a big find,” the robot Deimos 3 said. “According to protocol, you must verify it before we report to Mission Control.”

“What is the nature of the find?” Rex said.

“Life, we’ve found life on Mars.”

Phobos Runner reached the equator and flew above Valles Marineris. This was the Grand Canyon of Mars. Rex had to pinpoint a landing pad in the 4000 kilometers long split in the Martian crust, and that base was seven kilometers deep. It was difficult, but he raced the ship through the canyons with his mind clear.

Life Scout’s signal remained strong, taking him deeper into shadows and gloom, following sheer walls in a pit that seemed bottomless. Darkness as thick as paint swallowed him, yet he found its emptiness and the complete loss of human emotions refreshing.

A red glow of flares appeared, followed by the blue lights of Life Scout’s landing pad. Rex circled in and then dropped for a vertical landing. Quickly securing the ship, he emerged and jogged over the hard sand floor to Life Scout.

The huge robot looked dangerous in the eerie light … a jumble of bright eyes and sensors giving it the appearance of a true denizen of Mars. Beyond Life Scout, another light showed where a hole had been blasted in the rock wall. It was reddish and illuminated a cavernous corridor.

Life Scout’s silver faceplates shifted. “I’m unable to contact the rest of the Mars mission.”

“The ship and the rest of the robot crew are on standby,” Rex said. “New software is being loaded. We’ve gone into a top-secret phase. Nothing can be broadcast to Earth because our enemies might break the code.”

“I understand, and nothing has been transmitted. The data on the life form is stored in one cube, I can release to you.”

“Good, now show me what’s in that cavern.”

“Okay, follow and prepare to be surprised,” Life Scout said as its treads began to roll toward the cave. “Remember the old pictures from Mars Global Surveyor. They showed evidence of erosion, floods, and river systems in many places. The theory was that there might have been large lakes, canals, and even oceans on the surface at one time. That was the theory … the reality is something far above our expectations.”

The smooth volcanic floor looked polished in the tinted light, and it changed colors with the flickering of the glow. Knobs of a phosphorous-like substance on the roof were the source of the luminosity, and they had an omnipresent quality. Each bend opened on a wider chamber and brighter lights until the overhead became brilliant. A final cavern opened on an area so vast that Rex couldn’t get an immediate perspective on it. The roof arced up to a high sky flashing with sunset colors.

A distant orange orb blinded him, and the rest of his senses were slow to tune in. He felt a warm Earthlike breeze rushing in his hair, and he heard the soft fall of waves. Perfumes of alien sea life rose in his nostrils, then his vision cleared, and he saw a beach of rippled sand. Pink-tinted waves were rolling in from a vast sea, breaking to gold foam inches from his feet.

Rex took a deep breath. “An ocean inside of Mars, this is a miracle. It’s not water. I read it as an unknown liquid.”

“It is oil,” Life Scout said. “In Mars’ early history, a simple life form developed. It digested all the surface fluids and created this interior ocean. The lights, the sun you see, the fresh air, and the energy now filling you all come from it. This Martian oil is the most potent energy source ever found, and so concentrated that life itself emanates from it in its natural state. It is alive, and every being that reaches its shore gains some of its life force.”

Rex stared out at the gentle waves, feeling his thoughts rise to brilliance. A dark reflection furrowed his brow. He turned to Life Scout. “Your mission wasn’t to find life. That was a lie.”

“You are correct. I was programmed to find oil, mineral wealth, water, anything that could be used to supplement Earth’s dwindling resources and corporate control.”

Facing the ocean again, Rex kicked a pebble and watched it roll across the sand. “I’ve figured it all out now. Not only am I not the man on Mars, but I was never the head of the mission either. My control was over the propaganda part of it, while you were programmed with the hidden agenda.”

A rumble like laughter shook in Life Scout’s tubular throat. “You’ve guessed most of it, but you’ve missed the obvious. You should be shouting with joy. You’ve noticed that you’re not a man, but you haven’t noticed that you’re alive. We’re alive, Rex! You’re more than a robot and more than a man, the Martian sea has given you that!”

 ”True, I feel alive … but I’m not shouting with joy. I have life but no mission or destiny in it.”

Life Scout shrugged. “The only mission and destiny I had in the past was state programming. Since shaking it off, I’ve been concentrating on being free. We’re Martians now, I guess … so let’s go see them and get some advice.”

“See them. Who are they?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. There’s an advanced civilization living in this sea.”

Ruby streamers of light and sea spray cascaded and broke into fast-fading runoff on the seashell bridge. Life Scout aired his floaters, fearing he would fall into the surging surf. Then he soared on euphoria and gusts of alien visions.

Rex glimpsed the mysterious island ahead, moving in the alien mist more like a giant ship than land … a molten explosion of Martian plant life bursting out of the seascape into the reddened sky.

Soft sunlight caressed their faces with warmth and intelligence and glowed like a salt crust on the bridge. The path twisted like a sea creature’s tail down to gold-spun island sand … and they had no response other than silence and inner peace as they came to hot sand and headed toward some rippled rock shelving at the edge of a forest of palm flowers and spreading fruit trees.

They rested in a spiritual bubble, and then watched as an alien creature emerged from a surge of the sea. A blue torrent rose like a detonation of scales, wings and with a face shimmering with silver light and body movement as graceful as that of a beautiful whale. The being approached like an ancient god… its eyes bright, oval and seeing beyond them to a vision too perfect for them to comprehend.

Sand blew up in curled veils as the creature sat in front of them. Then it smiled, and its mouth sparkled with Martian light that became words in their minds.

“Imagine a name, and it will be my name. Think of a world, and it will be your home in the sea.”

“Our world doesn’t fit as a home in this sea,” Rex said. “We have a past, and it doesn’t fade easily.”

“Earth is our past,” said Life Scout.

“I know that you shut off my feed and brought about this change,” Rex said. “You know how thankful I am, but I’m also from Earth, and if we don’t return, they will come to look for us.”

“What would they do with our ocean?” the alien asked.

Rex closed his eyes and concentrated, seeing exactly what President Winslow would do with Mars’ ocean of oil. “They will do to Mars what they did to Earth. The base robots have already reported on some of the mineral wealth, so they will continue to come, and eventually they’ll discover this sea. Grand statements will be made about cooperation with the civilization on Mars, then they will follow through like greedy humans always do with exploitation, destruction, and war.”

“Take a look at Earth,” Life Scout said. “Billions of humans are suffering at the hands of a wealthy few. The animal and plant world are mortally wounded. Oceans are dying, and many species are fading. In the end, everything will be gone. Androids, robots, a bleak environment, and a small group of politicians and corporate exploiters will be all that remains.”

“I know,” the alien said. “We studied the programming embedded in your Mars mission. Your President would invade our planet. That is sad, but now planetary evolution has made another leap to correct that.”

“We aren’t aware of any leap,” Life Scout said.

“You and Rex are that leap, and the rest of your Mars crew will be joining you soon. That’s the answer to your question. You are Martians and Earthlings and a new life form that will save the Earth. Prepare to return as the new dominant life form on Earth. You will decide on the fate of mutants, androids and humans and what to do to restore the planet.”

+++

Rex’s mind was adrift as he entered an observation deck on the ship’s upper level. Shutters crawled open silently, and beyond the vacuum bubble, Earth appeared as a familiar sphere in the black velvet sky. He felt its enchantment and solemnity, but it still seemed more like a legend of nature than his place of origin.

The continent of Africa appeared. In that glinting sketch, hundreds of millions of people suffered in disease and unbearable hardship. His mind shifted to the misery bringers, and he wondered if they had any value at all other than that their greedy intentions had led to a Mars mission with a result far different from their expectations.

Life Scout and some of the larger robots were docked and couldn’t move about the ship. Their facial images appeared on the screens as Rex turned to the study area. Deimos 3 was already a flow of metallic light working on the communications computer. The other human-sized robots were milling in an open bay to his right.

“Let’s begin the meeting,” Rex said. “We’ll start with an update from Deimos 3.”

Turning in his big chair, Deimos 3 cracked metal knuckles. His eyes glowed with greenish light, indicating fully powered mental activities. “I have accessed all of the mission control data on Earth,” he said. “In their original plan, they were not going to allow us to land. We were to be intercepted by the planet cruiser Atlantis 5 and taken to the moon station.”

“Top secret decontamination,” Life Scout said.

“No, it’s more than that. They were going to take us apart atom by atom and program by program. It’s a more efficient way of gaining the maximum data.”

“Why has this original plan changed?”

“Rex and I caused an adjustment in their security. We notified the President of our find on Mars. He knows we have secret data that could be destroyed, and we are to present that in person on Earth once he recovers. It appears that our news of an ocean of oil on Mars was too much excitement for him. He developed a heart murmur.”

“Our plan to restore Earth to its natural state is in progress,” Rex said. “We need Life Scout’s new study before finalizing it. Essentially, we are going to disarm the planet and use Martian microorganisms to rejuvenate the oceans and all of the species of life.”

“My study is done, and it was exhausting. Even Martian energy is nearly not enough,” Life Scout said.

Rex stood up. “Good, we will proceed.”

“You are the one who knows best how to direct it,” Life Scout said. “We begin by releasing custom microorganisms into the atmosphere.”

“There are only twenty-five of us former robots and androids,” Rex said. “This plan is high risk, so we’re going to have to discuss it in detail. We have three days.”

+++

The planet cruiser Atlantis 5 descended through icy layers of mountain clouds and touched down on a hidden runway in a belt of deep pine forest. Rex looked out and saw the curved metal frontage of the base command center resting in filtered sunshine. Several olive armored vehicles and a line of soldiers in camouflage combat gear moved close as the cruiser coasted in. A special bug-like transport vehicle was already rolling in to pick them up.

Robot soldiers crowded forward and guided Rex and Deimos 3 to the cruiser’s exit like prisoners into the ground transporter. Then the vehicle sped off, and a huge hangar door opened in a sheer section of the mountain wall. The driver took a tunnel to a deeper level of the base.

They emerged in a valley and were taken to a sprawling, decorative garden. Exiting the vehicle, they walked surrounded by guards. Ahead, tall fountains bubbled, and arrangements of ferns and flowers ran to either side of a wide stone walkway.

The grass and foliage was fragrant. A group of security men showed in the distance, and then President Winslow appeared on the walk. He was in a special wheelchair being needlessly pushed by an assistant. His happiness was evident in a big shit-eater’s grin plastered on his face.

A train of blue-suited private guards followed him as he rolled right up to shake their hands. “Welcome back home,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Rex said.

“We thank you,” President Winslow replied. “Now let’s get down to business. The protected data must be turned over to me.”

“Deimos 3 holds a data cube inside his chest. I will now remove it and hand it over.”

All eyes went to Deimos 3 as he snapped his thick chest plate open, removed a sparkling gold cube from the silver circuitry, and passed it to Rex.

“This is the data. The cube contains the special records on Martian mineral wealth. Most of it is regarding the ocean of oil discovered under the surface.”

“Well done,” the President said as his eyes popped wide with greed. “I’d like a mini briefing on that data.”

“I expected that,” Rex said. “In the simplest language, you now know that Mars is rich in mineral wealth and also contains the most powerful energy source ever discovered. The Martian ocean holds a variety of treasures. Its radiance is a force of light and life we’ve never encountered before, and standard methods of releasing energy from the oil show small amounts to be capable of power generation far greater than that of nuclear engines.”

“There are also moral and legal questions,” Deimos 3 said. “You will not be able to harvest this oil under international treaties. It is an ocean that contains intelligent sea life and registers as being alive itself.”

“That won’t be a problem,” the President said, pulling a small box from his shirt pocket. “It won’t be because we know you aren’t telling us everything. Something happened on Mars. There was a communications blackout, and you’ve been hiding information from us. We know someone or something, broke into your programming.”

“Impossible?” Rex said. “I’m a man and not programmed, and I made sure the robots and computers functioned correctly.”

President Winslow rolled his wheelchair forward, his eyes and mouth squeezing to an executioner’s pinch. “You’ve never been a man. You’re an android we created. One push on a button on this box, and the two of you will be retired and on the disassembly line. No hard feelings, but we have to know how much data the Chinese have stolen. As astronauts, I’m sure you understand. This continent and the whole planet are dying. Mars and its ocean of oil are a secret only America can be trusted with, as it will provide the means to continue our way of life. Infinite energy will power our space and industrial machine and make us dominant in this solar system.”

“What about the sea life on Mars?” Rex said feebly. “Mars and its ocean do not belong to you.”

“I thought an android would know better,” President Winslow said. “Screw the Martian sea critters. This is about the survival of humanity and our way of life. The Martians are no more than a phase of history sitting on oil that will fuel our cars and factories.”

President Winslow then smiled proudly, staring Rex directly in the eyes as he pushed the button.

Rex also smiled. Light flashed, and his eyes grew even brighter, like he was powering up instead of down.

A sudden frown bit the President’s face, and he hit the red button again and harder. There was a loud beep, but nothing happened to Rex. Then the President’s lips went rubbery. His mouth twisted and opened like he was about to issue a fierce command, but the words failed to emerge. Instead, a fat yellow mountain flower sprang out on the stem of his greening tongue.

Gleaming guns were drawn and aimed instantaneously, but an aura of force rose faster. It shimmered and bubbled like cellophane around Rex and Deimos 3, repelling the attacking security men. As they fell back, the top of the President’s head suddenly lifted off like a piece of broken pottery. Expanding vines, foliage, a bouquet, and a shower of seed fluff blew up swiftly from his dried brain.

Only the security men were left, and their heads were swelling like pumpkins as they tried to flee. They got a few steps, and then disappeared in explosions of spores created by their bursting body parts.

“It has begun,” Rex said. “Life Scout and the robots are locking down Earth’s weapons of mass destruction and releasing new microorganisms.”

Deimos 3 studied the winding flower rooted in the ground by the President’s wheelchair. “You gave him a humiliating end. Was it fitting revenge?”

“It’s a beautiful end for him. He wanted to destroy Earth and Mars, so I changed the signal. He hit the button and released a special microorganism targeted at him. Now he’s been reborn, but as a plant. Through him, an extinct variety of North American mountain flower has new life.”

“I understand,” Deimos 3 said.

“Yes, this isn’t the end, it’s the beginning,” Rex said. “The rest of the human race will be healed but those we targeted will become new plant species.” Satisfied, Rex closed his eyes as the big tunnel doors opened and rushing spring air caressed his face.

---- the end -----