The Red Planet Read Online Free PDF

the radio, but with no result.
    When Jet reached the freighter’s tightly-closed main door he rapped on it with the wrench. But he had hardly begun knocking when a familiar voice was heard on the inter-comm.
    “Hullo, Discovery--Freighter Number Two Calling. Urgent. Come in please.” It was Frank Rogers.
    Lemmy immediately connected him to Jet and a few minutes later I heard Frank say: “Hullo, skipper. Have to report that Whitaker is sick. Very ill, I think.”
    “What? Then why didn’t you answer when we called?”
    “Have you been calling? I was asleep and . . .”
    “Asleep!” There was no mistaking the anger in Jet’s voice.
    “Yes, sir,” said Frank apologetically. “And when I woke up I found Whitaker flat out. I can’t rouse him.”
    “Listen to me, Frank,” said Jet sharply; “if you’re awake enough to get to the main door, open it and let me in.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Hullo, Doc,” Jet called to me.
    “Hearing you,” I told him.
    “Come over here, will you?”
    “Sure thing,” I replied, and unfastening the hook of Jet’s line from where it was secured to the ring near my feet I hooked it to my belt and, by way of No 1, hauled myself across. When I arrived at No 2 the main door was already open and Jet was waiting for me in the airlock. After the lock had been exhausted and the hatch opened Jet led the way up into the crew’s quarters.
    “Where’s Whitaker?” he asked as he reached floor level.
    “There,” was the reply.
    “Good grief!” I heard Jet say. “He’s still standing up!”
    By this time I, too, had climbed the ladder and stepped into the cabin. While I was removing my helmet I had time to take in the scene. Whitaker was standing near the control table in front of the radio and leaning to one side an angle of forty-five degrees.
“Did you have to leave him like that, Frank?” asked Jet angrily.
    “It makes no difference whether he’s standing up or lying down, Jet,” I interrupted. “He’s unconscious just the same. Help me get him over to his bunk.” Although common sense told me Whitaker’s strange attitude was due to lack of gravity within the ship, I must admit that seeing him like that--his eyes half-open but lifeless--was uncanny.
    Jet untied Whitaker’s magnetic boots and between us we got him to his bunk. He appeared to be in a coma. His breathing was quite regular but his temperature was abnormally low.
    While I was still examining Whitaker, Jet questioned Frank. “Now,” he said, “let’s get to the bottom of this. Why didn’t you answer us when we called?”
    “If I’d known you were calling I would have,” replied Rogers.
    “But good heavens, man, the radio’s loud enough, isn’t it? Do you want an alarm clock, too?”
    “Well, no matter how loud it was, sir, I’m afraid it didn’t wake me.”
    “What time did you go to sleep?”
    “About two hours ago.”
    “Did you take a pill?”
    “No, Jet, but while I was sleeping...”
    “Well?”
    Frank swallowed, looked at the floor, hesitated a moment and then continued: “I had the most horrible dream. One of those nightmares when you know that if you don’t wake up something terrible will happen to you. I thought I was back on Earth but the funny thing was that . . .”
    “You don’t have to give me details of your dream,” broke in Jet impatiently. “What was Whitaker doing when you went to bed?”
    “Sitting at the radio, on watch.”
    “Did you notice anything odd about him then?”
    “No more than usual. He didn’t have a word to say.”
    By this time my examination had been completed and Jet moved over to the bunk. “Well, Doc?” he asked.
    “Still unconscious,” I told him.
    “Any idea why?”
    “No,” I said, “I can’t understand it at all. I can find nothing wrong with him but I can’t rouse him.”
    “If it’s just sleep, it must have come upon him very suddenly.”
    “It certainly did,” I replied. “Anyway, I don’t intend to leave him before he