D.O.R.K.
Detector of Renegade Killers
by
William Snakesneer
Escape from Mars
The spectacular, silver moon was completely full and presented a surreal backdrop to the Tootville Observatory, nestled high on Tootville Peak. The observatory dome was open and the telescope was extended and silently pointed skyward. Although the observation post was not large, the resident astronomer, Doctor Theodosius Valentinius Vanguard, was fairly well-known in scientific circles for obtaining excellent results in his research. His success as an astronomer was in part due to the location of the observatory. The only inhabited area to offer any source of light pollution at all was the tiny town of Tootville, some twenty miles to the north of the peak on which the observatory sat. Clarity for observation was almost always excellent. On this evening, however, the brilliant beams from the majestic moon were so striking that a shadow from the observatory telescope was cast upon the ground.
Inside the intensely illuminated edifice, Doctor Vanguard, a lanky, bespectacled man sporting a wild, white shock of hair, sat at his desk peering intently into a volume entitled How To Become Famous. Although over the years his fellow astronomers had generally held his work in high esteem, Doctor Vanguard was not the least bit satisfied with his accomplishments in life. Perhaps his drive for recognition had been instilled in him by his father, a respected physicist who had garnered numerous awards and honors during a career that spanned some forty years. Whatever the source, Doctor Vanguard was keen on obtaining far greater success and he needed that notoriety now. Although his work was always meticulous, his office was cramped and cluttered. Star charts were taped randomly to the walls. A mobile of the solar system hung limply from the ceiling. Well-worn books and miniature models of missiles and satellites were scattered haphazardly about the room. A super-sized sign on the wall behind the Doctor’s desk dutifully declared: REMEMBER – THE SUN IS HOTTER THAN URANUS!
Outside the doctor’s office, in the main control room, Doctor Vanguard’s pretty assistant sat facing a large computer console, feverishly inputting data. In front of her, above the array of complex computer equipment, was a huge LCD screen. The screen was blank.
“You know that what you’re making me do is illegal, don’t you?” said the assistant loudly as her nails clacked against the keys. She was obviously quite agitated by the project she had been given.
“Nonsense,” replied the doctor, just as loudly, still staring into his volume. “We’re just borrowing it. They haven’t used it since March of 2010 and they don’t plan on using it ever again, as far as I know.”
The assistant appeared in the doctor’s doorway and continued in a normal, albeit slightly nasal voice. “Using the Martian rover Spirit to conduct your own personal explorations has to be against the law. If we get caught, I’m denying everything. Anyway,” she continued somewhat more amiably, “I’ve established communication with the rover and we should be getting a visual any second.”
“Excellent,” said Doctor Vanguard excitedly. He kissed his book, reverently set it aside, and strode purposefully out of his office and into the control room. He gazed up ruefully at the blank screen.
“There’s no picture,” the doctor dourly declared.
“You know as well as I do that the signal currently takes eight minutes to reach the earth, even at the speed of light.” The pretty young woman nodded toward the screen. “Look. Here comes something now.”
The huge screen flickered for a moment and then abruptly came to life but the picture was a blur. The assistant bent over and quickly typed in some adjustments and the screen immediately cleared, revealing a desolate, reddish Martian landscape. The reactivated rover was once again beaming a picture to the earth.
“That plateau is called Home Plate,” said the doctor. “That’s where they parked it.” He viewed the bleak scene dejectedly. “There’s nothing here that will get me in the history books.” He heaved a sad sigh. It appeared obvious that his dreams of fame and fortune were not materializing tonight.
“What did you expect?” retorted his assistant, placing her hands on her hips and staring at him incredulously. “Martians?”
Suddenly, the earth in front of the rover erupted violently. Rocks and debris were flung furiously into the air, revealing a great, gaping hole where the ground had been flat and monotonous only moments before. As the pair watched the silent scene in amazement, a sleek, metallic object emerged from the crater and streaked upward into the reddish-pink Martian sky.
“Are we recording this?” screamed the doctor wildly.
“Of course,” responded his assistant in a stunned voice, still staring at the screen. “The camera is always running.”
A second craft flew up out of the hole. This one was small and saucer-shaped. It, too, disappeared quickly from the field of view.
“Yes,” said the doctor intensely in a low voice, his fists clenched tightly together. “Yes. Yes. Tomorrow morning my name will be a household word from coast to coast.”