There were four morphine styrettes in the kit; he grabbed one out, broke the seal and jabbed it against his arm. Tony didn't try to stop him, in fact, he agreed with him completely. Within a few minutes, Hal was slumped over the table snoring deeply. Tony picked him up and dropped him onto his bunk.
Hal slept almost twenty hours and when he woke some of the madness and exhaustion was gone from his eyes. Neither of them mentioned what had happened. Hal marked the days remaining on the bulkhead and carefully rationed the remaining morphine. He was getting about one night's sleep in three, but it seemed to be enough.
They had four days left to blastoff when Tony found the first Martian life. It was something about the size of a cat that crouched in the lee of the ship. He called to Hal who came over and looked at it.
"That's a beauty," he said, "but nowheres near as good as the one I had on my second trip. I found this ropy thing that oozed a kind of glue. Contrary to regulations — frankly I was curious as hell — I dissected the thing. It was a beauty, wheels and springs and gears, Stregham's technicians do a good job. I really got chewed out for opening the thing though. Why don't we just leave this one where it is?"
For a moment Tony almost agreed — then changed his mind.
"That's probably just what they want — so let's finish the game their way. I'll watch it, you get one of the empty ration cartons."
Hal reluctantly agreed and climbed into the ship. The outer door swung slowly and ground into place. Disturbed by the vibration, the thing darted out towards Tony. He gasped and stepped back before he remembered it was only a robot.
"Those technicians really have wonderful imaginations," he mumbled.
The thing started to run by him and he put his foot on some of its legs to hold it. There were plenty of legs; it was like a small-bodied spider surrounded by a thousand unarticulated legs. They moved in undulating waves like a millipede's and dragged the misshapen body across the sand. Tony's boot crunched on the legs, tearing some off. The rest held.
Being careful to keep his hand away from the churning legs, he bent over and picked up a dismembered limb. It was hard and covered with spines on the bottom side. A milky fluid was dripping from the torn end.
"Realism," he said to himself, "those technicians sure believe in realism."
And then the thought hit him. A horribly impossible thought that froze the breath in his throat. The thoughts whirled round and round and he knew they were wrong because they were so incredible. Yet he had to find out, even if it meant ruining their mechanical toy.
Keeping his foot carefully on the thing's legs, he slipped the sharpened table knife out of his pouch and bent over. With a single, swift motion he stabbed.
"What the devil are you doing?" Hal asked, coming up behind him. Tony couldn't answer and he couldn't move. Hal walked around him and looked down at the thing on the ground.
It took him a second to understand, then he screamed.
"It's alive? It's bleeding and there are no gears inside. It can't be alive — if it is we're not on Earth at all — we're on Mars!" He began to run, then fell down, screaming.
Tony thought and acted at the same time. He knew he only had one chance. If he missed they'd both be dead. Hal would kill them both in his madness. Balling his fist, he let swing hard as he could at the spot just under the other man's breastplate. There was just the thin fabric of the suit there and that spot was right over the big nerve ganglion of the solar plexus. The thud of the blow hurt his hand— but Hal collapsed slowly to the ground. Putting his hands under the other's arms, he dragged him into the ship.
Hal started to come to after he had stripped him and laid him on the bunk. It was impossible to hold him down with one hand and press the freeze cycling button at the same time. He concentrated on holding Hal's one leg still and pushed the button. The crazed man had time to hit Tony three times before the needle lanced home. He dropped back with a sigh and Tony got groggily to his feet. The manual actuator on the frozen sleep had been provided for any medical emergency so the patient could survive until the doctors could work on him back at base. It had proven its value.
Then the same unreasoning terror hit him.
If the beast were real — Mars was real.
This was no "training exercise" — this was it. That sky outside wasn't a painted atmosphere, it was the real sky of Mars.
He was alone as no man had ever been alone before on a planet millions of miles from his world.
He was shouting as he dogged home the outer air door, an animal-like howl of a lost beast. He had barely enough control left to get to his bunk and throw the switch above it. The hypodermic was made of good steel so it went right through the fabric of his pressure suit. He was just reaching for the hypo arm to break it off when he dropped off into the blackness.
