MARTY THE MARTIAN

It's still very clear in my mind. The whole episode. The afternoon visit 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 a patch of green grass to recline on and maybe a faint breeze to tingle one'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 breeze would have to wait. After all, Marsten was my boss.

He had his office in the Empire State Building. Norbert Marsten was the owner of the Marsten Circus, the greatest, biggest, loudest circus in the world. And if you don't believe it, ask Mr. Marsten.

"Sit down, Nick," he invited, speaking from one corner of his mouth as the other corner was busy chewing a dollar cigar. Marsten was a small man 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, the bushmaster 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 imagine how foolish I looked with my mouth hanging open.

"I even have a name picked out for him," Marsten persisted. "Marty, the Martian. 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 ever hear of a man named Hendrick Ritter?"

"No."

"The greatest scientist in the world. He's been working for me for over a year. I hired him to do one particular job for me: to concoct a fuel that will get a space ship to Mars and back. Well, it's done. Did you ever 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 finished a job for me. And, Nick, it's already built. And I've got Joe Roane working 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 ship probably won't get off the ground."

Marsten chewed furiously on his cigar. "But what if it does get off the 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 on Mars."

"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're cute. And sexy."

"A Martian." He was very adamant. "I'll have the greatest attraction in the world. Nick, I'm the kind who gets what he wants. I've spent over three million dollars on this project and I'm ready to spend another three million. Just get me my Martian and you'll be a rich man. You'll be rich enough to quit working for me and to tell me to go to hell. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I'd like that very much."

Two weeks later we went to Arizona. A week after that we took off. I didn't really think we would. But we did.

Just me and Joe Roane. Two men in a space ship.

A huge metal tube hurtling through the longest and blackest of nights.

Joe Roane was a good-looking chap. Good-looking, young, and excited. He was the first to pilot a ship to Mars. He was looking ahead to the glory that awaited him.

We landed on Mars.

We put on helmets that Ritter and Young had made for us. We stepped down the metal ladder.

They were there, waiting for us.

I'd rather have faced a bushmaster or a rhino.

They stood on three legs. They had globe bellies, tiny heads, and no necks. They were of a color I had never seen before. They had two arms with two hands attached to each arm. I suppose they were hands. They were more like claws.

I stood frozen solid. Joe Roane screamed and turned to run back up the ladder. A beam flashed and Joe fell forward, silent and very dead.

After that it was all a blank.

When I came to I was strapped down by metal clasps on a long board made of some kind of marble. I was alone for some time.

I don't remember how long it was before one of them appeared. He stood by my side, looking down at me. His eyes were purple. There were no whites. "You have come a long way," he said.

"You—you speak English?"

"We used a 64-V machine on you. We learned your language, your thoughts, your name. We know about Norbert Marsten. A very enterprising man, it seems."

"What are you going to do with me?"

"We haven't decided yet. So you were going to take one of us back with you for Marsten's circus. To exhibit one of us to your stupid race. My followers wanted to kill you when this information was learned. But I believe I have a better idea."

He went away. I yelled for him to come back. I yelled till my throat was dry. Eventually he did come back. He came back with Joe Roane and ... myself.

"I want you to meet Klar and Grat," he said. "They have taken over your bodies; you will take theirs—and return to Marsten. We have a transformer machine to accomplish this. Only we never had an opportunity to use it until you were so gracious as to visit us." He spoke on, telling me of his idea. I shuddered and wished for death. I begged him to kill me.

Then a contraption was fitted over me and it hummed and I passed out. I remember the trip back to earth.

I'm no longer Nick Faber. I'm Marty the Martian. What a cute title Marsten had hung on me. I've got a nice home and I get plenty to eat. Only my home is a cage and it's made of glass. People come from all over the world just to see me. And Marsten has been to see me every day. He chews on his big cigar and there's a smile on his face a yard wide.

I've tried to talk to my keepers but all I can manage is some crazy kind of gibberish. I also see Klar and Grat. But they're only there when Marsten is around. They're keeping very close to him. My being transformed into a Martian was just part of it. Klar and Grat were going to carry out the rest of it.

On one dark night, and very soon, Klar, Grat, and Marsten were going to disappear.

Maybe I was the greatest attraction on earth. But Norbert Marsten was going to be the greatest attraction on Mars.