The Winking Lights of Mars

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ty Von Wilcox

CHARLES R. JOHN YORK GORDON A.

* CABOT * GILES

'.11 H'

ROBERT MOORE

TT

FEBRUARY
1941

STORIES

/ B ATTERING RAMS OF SPACE (Complete Novel) . . by Don Wilcox 8

Lester Allison and June O'Neil match battering rams against deadly explosive gas in total space war.

THE LAST ANALYSIS (Short) by John York Cabot. ....... 56

Forbes and Barton had the discovery of the century/ a machine that could foretell a criminal s acts!

ADAM LINK IN THE PAST (Novelet) by Eando Binder 62

"Thor could only have been d robot!" exclaimed Adam Link— and set out in a time ship to find him.

THE ACCIDENTAL MURDERS (Short) by Robert Moore Williams. . 98

A shoestring breaks, you miss a train, the one you catch is wrecked. Was the shoestring an accident?

THE STILLWELL DEGRAVITATOR (Short) by Charles R. Tanner 108

Stillwell saw only good in his machine that overcame gravity — until he put it to practical use!

THE WINKING LIGHTS OF MARS (Short) by Gordon A. Giles. . . ■ - ..120

Communication between two worlds, space travel to Mars — and it all depended on the Winking Lishts.

FEATURES

The Observatory 6

Scientific Mysteries 54

An Anesthesia 2300 Years Old 61

Chinese Telephone 119

Ultimate Reality 127

Error Contest Winners 128

Meet The Authors 129

Questions & Answers 130

Science Quiz 131

Discussions 132

Correspondence Corner • 1 41

A City On Jupiter 144

Front cover paintins by Leo Morey illustrating a scene from "Battering Rams of Space

Back cover painting by Frank R. Paul depicting "A City On Jupiter"

ustrations by Julian S. Krupa, Robert Fuqua, Jay Jackson, H. W. McCauley, Dick Shaw, Joe Sewell,

R. Newman

Copyright, 1940, ZIFF-DAVIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
Member of (he Audit Bureau of Circulations
William B. Ziff, Publisher; B. G. Davis, Editor; J. Fred Henry, Business Manager;
Raymond A. Palmer, Manama Editor,- Herman R. Bollin, Art Director „

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AMAZING

STOMES
FEBRFAKY
1941

Published monthly by ZJFF-DAVIS PUBLISHING COMPANY at 608 South low-
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Volume XV
Number 2

Winking Light

ii i.i

It's war!' came a shout from the doorway

120

by GORDON A. GILES

""■"'M sorry," said Dr. R. Westwood.
"The board has decided it can't
grant the million dollars neces-
sary toward this project of sending a
rocket to Mars."

He shoved the rolled blueprints
across his desk at Thomas Avre. West-
wood hated to say it. Ayre had been so
obviously hopeful and eager. His young
face fell a mile now. The dream in
his grey eyes faded, burst. It was as
though he had tumbled and fallen from
a great height — from the height of Mars
in space.

"But I tell you it will work!" Ayre
protested. He spread the blueprints
and tapped the sketches for emphasis.

"The step-rocket principle. Each
rocket-chamber, after discharging its
fuel, drops away, lessening the weight.
After ten stages, the final unit with its
single passenger goes on and reaches
Mars. This was all worked out years
ago. And all the details of air, food
and water supplies for the rider. The
science of rocketry, which I represent,
needs only money now to build and
send a rocket ship to Mars."

His voice rose. "Good God, are you
going to let a mere million dollars stand
between you and the greatest thing in
history?"

Dr. Westwood's voice was kindly, in
answer.

"Very possibly it would work, Ayre.
Our technical men found no glaring
flaws in the scheme. But look. Our
funds are limited. Wykoff Institute is
supported by men who would tear their
hair at money spent for what they'd
consider a wild venture. We have to
dole out our money for less fantastic
research, such as cyclotron work, or
electron-microscope pioneering. I'm
sorry, Ayre."

He spread his hands eloquently.

"But you're my last hope!" the
young rocket engineer said. He
went on bitterly. "Financial interests
weren't even polite, when I went to
them."

Westwood leaned forward.

"I still don't understand one thing,
Ayre. Why not build a stratosphere
rocket first? Send it over the ocean?
If it succeeded, you'd have business
men paving a concrete road to your
door. The first airplane flew just a
few miles. To suddenly suggest jump-

121

122

AMAZING STORIES

•

ing right from Earth to Mars — I don't
see it."

Tom Ayre's eyes went dreamy again.

"Because I believe there's life and

civilization on Mars ! The canals prove
it."

Westwood laughed.

"But no one has proved the canals,
first of all. Shiaparelli, Pickering,
Lowell and all the others claimed to
have seen them in their telescopes, yes.
But only at the verge of human eye-
sight. It might be an optical illusion."

"It isn't!" Ayre snapped. "This
year, early in 1940, Dr. Slipher of Low-
ell Observatory displayed 8,000 photo-
graphs of Mars, taken at its closest ap-
proach in '39. The photos definitely
show the markings sketched by the ear-
lier men from visual observation."

"Definitely?" Westwood shook his
head. "Half the astronomers still con-
sider the markings too hazy and uneven
to be straight, artificial canals." .

Ayre conceded the point.

"But there will be proof soon — un-
shakable proof. This is late 1940.
Next month, the 200-inch telescope at
Mt. Palomar will be ready for use. As
soon as they swing it on Mars, the
canals will stand out once and for all."

"Then wait that month or two,"
Westwood suggested a little impa-
tiently. "If the canals are proved,
you'll have a strong selling point. Wy-
koff Institute might back up the Mars
rocket then — with possible Martian
civilization the goal."

"/^vNE or two months," Ayre
mured, as if to himself. "I

mur-

It may
be the margin — "

At the older man's curious stare, he
went on. He leaned over the desk, eyes
blazing.

"Do you know why I've been trying
to push this thing through? Because
the foundations of civilization, as we

know it, are cracking. The war has
been going on now for over a year.
Most of Earth is involved except North
and South America. When they get in
— and it seems inevitable — the holo-
caust will go on for years — years!"

Westwood 's face was heavy.

"Yes, Ayre," he agreed somberly.
"Frankly, your rocket to Mars will
have to wait till after the war — if any-
thing's left."

Ayre's voice became fiercely eager.
"But if the rocket reached Mars before
the worst came — don't you see? Every
paper and radio in America screeching
the news. Life and Civilization on
Mars, Our Sister World! The war
would stop, once that stupendous news
filtered through. The discovery of
America forestalled a brewing war of
that time."

"Only," Westwood said cynically, "to
precipitate a death-struggle later be-
tween the Spanish and British Em-
pires."

Again Ayre's eyes reflected a dream.

"But suppose," he whispered, "the
Martian civilization is old and wise.
Mars cooled before Earth; supported
life sooner. Intelligent life must have
risen there while we were still sub-men
on Earth. The canals alone show a
great science. With it, they must have
a wisdom of time that young Earth
hasn't had. Martian culture, long past
the adolescent stage of warfare, would
set an example to mankind on Earth.
Perhaps their wisest administrators
could come to Earth and pattern our
society after theirs — united, peaceful,
mellow with time — "

He stopped, flushing.

"I know it all sounds like wishful
thinking. But it should be tried, on the
one chance of saving humanity from
its worst war in history. The Martian
super-culture theory is a logical one — "
"Except for one thing," Westwood

THE WINKING LIGHTS OF MARS

123

interrupted. "Why haven't these al-
leged Martians visited Earth?" His
tone became impersonal. "Despite
such interesting speculations, I can't do
a thing for you, Ay re. If the 200-inch
telescope proves the canals of Mars,
come back. We'll see what can be done
then. Good day."

Outside, Ayre stalked the streets of
Los Angeles with his blueprints rolled
under his arm. He was still walking at
dark. Mars glittered redly in the sky.
It shafted through the mists of his
dream mockingly.

The question rose puzzlingly in his
mind. Yes, if Martian super-culture
existed, why hadn't the Martians vis-
ited Earth?

"T'M sorry," said Petos Koll, Director
of Research. "We have no funds
to spare, for this project. A rocket to
Darth, the third planet! It is a wild,
fantastic venture to think of!"

Young JJal Hedar angered.

"Not so fantastic! You well know
that plans for a step-rocket have long
been suggested. Short-sighted trans-
portation chiefs have simply refused to
back it. I've come to you, for research
funds, as a last resort."

"We have none to spare," Petos Koll
repeated. "Especially now, during war
time." The six fingers of his hands
spread in a gesture of helplessness.

"That's just it — the war!" stormed
Dal Hedar. "If a rocket reaches Darth

from our planet, Mariz — "

"Why must you instantly rocket from
one planet to another?" Petos Koll de-
manded. "Why not a stratosphere
flight from one side of Mariz to an-
other, first? Or at least to one of our
two moons."

"Let me explain." Dal Hedar's
young eyes filled with a somber light.
"This present war promises to lay waste
our civilization, as no previous one has.

Dictator Sowll will not cease till he has
gained control of every canal-center on
Mariz. But suppose a rocket reaches
Darth and finds life and civilization — "

"Life and civilization!" Petos Koll
grunted scornfully. "You are one of
those who believe the Winking Lights
on Darth really exist? Most astronomi-
cal authority today states it is an optical
illusion."

Dal Hedar's eyes suddenly grew
dreamy.

He had once had the privilege of
looking through the great telescope at
the Singing Desert Observatory, famed
for its excellent visual conditions. In
its whirling mercury-bowl * reflector,
the image of Darth had shimmered as
a beautiful blue orb. A full night he
had watched, and seen one hemisphere
of Darth majestically rotate. The
Darth day was almost exactly a Mariz
day, though the Darth year was much
shorter.

He had seen the famed Winking

Lights.

Faint will-o-wisp star-dots that hov-
ered at the verge of straining eyesight,
so that one was never sure they were
actually there. And there was no proof
of them. A total of 28 had been re-
ported, widely scattered over the dark
portions of the planet, which composed
one-fourth of its surface. The other
three-fourths was known to be water.
Oceans of it, as Mariz had once had in
its far past.

*A mercury-bowl reflector would be a telescopic
mirror formed of liquid mercury, contained in a
huge metal bowl, and rotated swiftly until a per-
fect concave surface was afforded, at the proper
degree of curve to concentrate the light received
through the barrel of the telescope. Naturally, such
a telescope would be a tremendous machine, since
Mercury weighs a great deal, and the mechan-
ics of a rotator steady enough to provide an un-
distorted reflecting surface would be sensational.
However, astronomers have dreamed of such a
telescope and perhaps it will be a reality in the
not too distant future. — Ed.

124

AMAZING STORIES

npHE Winking Lights stood out best

at half-phase of Darth. Then, here
and there, they blinked into being, like
tiny lamps. Those in the two land areas
of the Western Hemisphere were most
consistent. Three particularly bright
ones always seemed to appear, so that
even the die-hards could not quite deny
their existence. One at the eastern coast
of the northern area, at the edge of the
Second Great Ocean. One inland, at
the tip of the Five Small Seas. One on

the western coast, further south, border-
ing the First Great Ocean. Like tiny

flaming jewels they had appeared to Dal
Hedar's wondering eyes. The lights
winked, probably because of the inter-
ference of Darth's extensive atmo-
sphere.

"Optical illusion?" snapped . Dal
Hedar. "I saw them myself. No, Petos
Koll, they exist. They are the flaming
lights of great Darth cities, built by in-
telligent beings!"

"Why have all those lights not been
seen nightly for almost a year, in the
Eastern Hemisphere of Darth?" argued
Petos Koll. "Have those mythical cities
of yours vanished, there?"

Dal Hedar shrugged his tall, bony
frame.

"Perhaps adverse visual conditions.
But the city-stars of the Western Hem-
isphere still shine nightly."

"There is no proof," grunted Petos
Koll. "Photographs that purport to
show the three brightest Winking
Lights are not accepted officially. The
light specks may be film imperfections."

Dal Hedar slowly shook his head.

"I wonder if on Darth, perhaps, their
officials say the same of our canals —
that they are an illusion . . ." His eyes
glowed suddenly. "But there will be
proof soon! Shortly the great new tele-
scope will be finished, in the Rainbow
Desert Observatory. With a mercury-
bowl reflector twice as large as any in

use, it will definitely reveal, once and for
all, the Winking Lights!"

"You will have to wait till then for
your funds," Petos Koll shrugged.

"But in the meantime the holocaust
of war spreads over our world!" ob-
jected the younger Martian.

"Well, what good will the rocket to
Darth do?"

Again Dal Hedar's eyes softened with
a dreamy light.

"It will find there a great civilization.
One that arose and reached its prime
while we were still swamp-men. You
have heard that theory, Petos Koll.
That life arose on Darth first, because it
is nearer the life-giving sun. Mariz had
to wait till the lesser rays spawned
single-celled life in our primordial ooze.
Therefore, evolution produced intelli-
gent life on Darth far before us. They
must be a great and cultured race. Per-
haps ages ago they passed through the
stage of civilization where wars are
fought. They live now as a peaceful,
united, highly civilized society, with
their great cities dotting all their lands
as what we call Winking Lights."

His voice was eager.

"Don't you see, Petos Koll? Their
wise men will come to Mariz and teach
us the ways of peace and brotherhood.
Wars will end forevermore on our bleed-
ing world. We will no longer fight over
the canals, which are the life-blood of
our existence. Petos Koll, can you let a
few radium coins stand between that
and the downfall of our present civili-
zation?"

Petos Koll sighed. He could not
blame the young engineer for his vision-
ary views. And there was just a chance
that it would all happen that way.

"But," he mumbled, "there is war.
My hands are tied. You will have to
wait till the new telescope proves un-
questionably the reality of the Winking
Lights."

THE WINKING LIGHTS OF MARS

125

Dal Hedar left. So it had to be. In
about sixty days, the new telescope
would be turned on Darth. The Wink-
ing Lights would be proved or blasted,
in sixty Mariz days, which were almost
equal to sixty Darth days.

TN the visitor's room of Mt. Palomar
Observatory, Tom Ayre waited
nervously.

The mighty glass eye had been offi-
cially put into operation a week before.
Previous to beginning its timed program
of stellar observations, it was being
swung from planet to planet, for tests
of its powers.

The rings of Saturn had come out
with stark clarity as composed of tiny
pin-point bodies whirling around their
primary. Another moon of Jupiter had
been instantly spotted, the twelfth. The
huge telescope was proving its tre-
mendous powers already.

And today, Mars was on the calendar,
for a night's observation. What would
they announce about the canals, an
enigma that had stirred fierce con-
troversy for half a century? Illusion
or not? Civilization or not? A dream
in Ayre's mind come true, or — just a
dream?

Ayre's mind drummed.

The canals had to exist ! They must !
On them rested the fate of humanity.
The one chance to pull Earth's eyes
away from its sordid doings and center
them on the blinding revelation of
another civilization. And a better one.
Earth's warlords would dim and fade in
that limelight, and all the nebulous,
shoddy "causes" they held up would
pass like black clouds.

Each man on Earth — French, Ger-
man, British, Russian, Japanese —
would suddenly draw closer to his
"enemy." They were all human beings,
in the last analysis. Out in space there,
on Mars, were alien beings.

And they might attack!

Yes, it would work two ways, Ayre
gloated. The first headline announcing
a rocket to Mars and back would run
over Earth like wildfire. The first
thought would be — will our world be at-
tacked by these super-beings on Mars?
Here we are, bleeding, fighting ourselves
to exhaustion. Tomorrow the Martians
might come, conquering.

So would mass conjecture run, in this
time of warlike thoughts and demorali-
zation. As Orson Welles had unwit-
tingly proved! Ayre smiled. And then
how sublimely wonderful it would be
when the Martians descended like gods
from some Olympia! Wise, gentle,
truly civilized beings who would over-
night organize the anarchy of human
life into a peaceful era.

Ayre jerked to awareness.

A man came in from the telescope
chamber above. It was two o'clock
A. M. They had trained their tube on
Mars for several hours. His face was
red with excitement. His voice cracked.

"Japanese bombers have just at-
tacked Los Angeles!" he yelled. "The
news just came over the radio." He
gulped and went on, half with a groan.
"America is in the war!"

'"pHERE was a stunned silence in the
room. The visiting astronomers
looked at one another as though he had
announced the universe splitting in half.
Their scholarly faces recoiled from the
dread pronouncement, so different from
what they had expected. Not the
canals of Mars, but war!

"America in the war ! " one man mur-
mured, closing his eyes to shut out a
terrible vision. "The whole world is
now at war. Two billion human souls f"

Ayre's mind shook itself, staggering.
Was it too late? He ran forward and
grasped the announcer's arm, who stood
woodenly as if not knowing what to do

126

AMAZING STORIES

or say next.

"The canals of Mars?" Ayre de-
manded, shaking him. "What about the
canals of Mars?"

"Canals of Mars?" The man looked
at him stupidly, then waved a hand.
"Oh, they exist. A webwork of them,
clear as cracks in a mirror. Let me go!
America is at war! The whole world
is at war! Who cares about the canals
of Mars?"

"TVAL HEDAR whipped his nine-foot
angular frame back and forth in
the antechamber of the Rainbow Des-
ert's Observatory. The giant new mer-
cury-bowl reflector had been sweeping
the firmament for ten days.

Already memorable announcements
had come. Polor's rings had come out
with stark clarity as composed of tiny
pin-point bodies whirling around their
primary. Another moon of huge Kanto
had been instantly spotted, the twelfth.
And tonight, Darth was on the list for
observation.

What would they announce about the
Winking Lights, an enigma that had
stirred fierce controversy for thirty
years? Illusion or not? Civilization or
not, on Darth? A dream in Dal Hedar's
mind come true, or — just a dream?

Dal Hedar's mind hummed.

The Winking Lights had to exist!
They must! On them hung the fate of
his world. The one chance to shift
Mariz's eyes away from its terrible civil
war and center them on the blinding
revelation of another civilization.

And a better one! Mariz's warlords
would shrink to insignificance in that
glory, and all the nebulous, twisted
"causes" they held up would pass like
winds in the Desert of Sighs. Each
soldier on Mariz — Hokian, Pthuvian,
Dorkite, Lansic — would suddenly draw
closer to his "enemy." They were all
fellow Marizians, in the last analysis.

Out in space there, on Darth, were alien
beings.

And they might attack !

Yes, it would work two ways, Dal
Hedar gloated. The first sound-cast
announcing a rocket to Darth and back
would run over Mariz like a dust-cloud.
The first thought would be — will our
world be attacked by these super-beings
on Darth? Here we are, drying away,
fighting ourselves to exhaustion. To-
morrow the Darthians might come —
conquering.

So would popular speculation run, in
this time of warlike thoughts and hys-
teria. Dal Hedar smiled. And then
how achingly glorious it would be when
the Darthians descended like gods from
the Spirit Dimension. Wise, learned,
truly civilized beings who would over-
night lead Mariz out of its chaos.

Dal Hedar jerked to awareness.

A staff-member came in from the tele-
scope chamber above. It was late at
night. They had been observing Darth
for several hours, with the new giant
mercury-bowl. His face was green with
excitement. His voice was harsh.

"Hokian air-sleds have just attacked
Canal Center Five! Kansa, our nation,
is in the war! All Mariz is at war,
now!"

Dal Hedar forged his way through
stupefied astronomers to the man,
grasping his arm.

"The Winking Lights of Darth!" he
demanded, shaking him. "What about
the Winking Lights?"

"Winking Lights of Darth?" The
man looked at him woodenly, then
waved an arm.

"Oh, they do not exist, after all. We
observed for many hours, but not one
was seen. Even the three brightest al-
leged to be in the Western Hemisphere
aren't there. They have proved to be
an utter illusion." He laughed wildly,
and jerked away. "All Mariz is at

THE WINKING LIGHTS OF MARS

127

war! Who cares about the mythical
Winking Lights of Darth?"

Dal Hedar stood stunned, broken.

Illusion, all illusion! There were no
Winking Lights on Darth. No civiliza-
tion, no cities, perhaps no life at all.
The great new telescope could not be
wrong. If it didn't show the Winking
Lights, then they could not exist.

And there would be no rocket to
Darth.

'"POM AYRE stumbled, along with ten
other drafted recruits, toward the
barracks. The whole city was dark —
blacked-out. Every city in Europe and
Asia had been blacked-out for months,
at night, in dread of the horrible air-
raids that became the rule. Now every
city in America too, would be kept

snuffed like a useless candle.

They reached the barracks.

"Name?" asked the non-com check-
ing them in.

"Tom Ayre. But listen, there are
canals on Mars! Won't anybody
listen? People up there, who'll save
Earth. The canals are there. If you
don't believe me, ask them at Mt. Palo-
mar, where they have the big tele-
scope — "

The officer interrupted, shaking his
head a little at the young recruit's star-
ing, haunted eyes. .

"What are you raving about, son?
The Mt. Palomar Observatory was
bombed down the second night the Japs
attacked. Now grab up that outfit and
get going. There's a war to fight, mis-
ter, and it's going to be a long one."

<€ «

ULTIMATE REALITY

» »

/ T V HE nineteenth century sceptic who
proudly proclaimed that he believed only
in what he could see, hear, or handle amuses
the educated man of today.

Whatever else wc are doubtful about, we
know that behind the world to which our
senses react there is one infinitely greater of
which wc can learn only indirectly.

We know there are sounds too high in
pitch for the human ear to hear, though
certain insects have more sensitive organs.
We are probably living in a babel of noise
to which we are totally deaf.

So far as our senses are concerned, we
remain serenely unaware of a raging mag-
netic storm which disrupts all electrical sys-
tems. m 4

We arc aware of colors ranging from
violet at one end of the spectrum to red at
the other. But we have found out that be-
yond the violet are other colors which we
cannot see, though it is possible that some
animals can. And below the red end is the
infra-red, the "blade light" with which as-
tronomer-photographers are now doing mir-
acles.

Dr. Otto Struve, director of the Yerkes
Observatory, says of a new camera: "Used
with infra-red plates sensitive to radiations
intermediate between the reddest visible
ravs and heat rays, the camera has shown

that the night sky is so constantly luminous
in infra-red light that if human eyes were
sensitive to these radiations they would see
it as a luminous surface upon which the
stars were relatively pale/'

These infra-red photographs have re-
vealed skies crowded with "ghost stars" the
existence of which was not even suspected.
Some of these dark, dead worlds are nearer
to the earth than any stars were thought to
be.

Mathematical physicists are no longer ma-
terialists in the old sense of the term when
they try to explain the world of the atom in
which apparently no such relationship as
cause and effect exists.

Not long ago most psychologists regarded
thought as the effect of a chemical reaction
in the brain. Now many believe it is at
least an arguable theory that the mind is a
separate entity which uses the brain as a
means of communication with the outer
world. ESP — extra-sensory perception — is
a recognized study in most colleges.

It is not heretical to regard time as an
illusion.

No investigator of today claims any
knowledge of ultimate reality. He knows
that he cannot depend on his senses to tell
him directly more than a small fraction of
the truth. — Morrison Colladay.