Lin Carter - Down to a Sunless Sea by Lin Carter, Ken W. Kelly - Cover Page A
Authors: Lin Carter, Ken W. Kelly - Cover
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tiny white flowers. They exchanged glances of utter amazement, especially Agila and the women. For, while Harbin and Brant had seen such moss carpeting back earthside (although perhaps not of the same amazing color), the Martians had never imagined such a sight.
Will Harbin had removed his boots and was working his toes blissfully in the dewy moss, much as a small boy might wriggle his bare toes in the deliciously damp grass of a meadow.
The dim opalescent luminance was everywhere, brighter than moonlight back earthside, but only a shade dimmer than the wan daylight of the Desert World. It seemed sourceless and omnipresent and cast no discernible shadows.
Brant looked up, to discover another marvel. The sky was dark, so dark that you could hardly see the rocky roof of the enormous cavern in which they found themselves. And enormous was the word—it seemed to go on for miles.
"Doc, just how big is this place?" asked Brant in awed, hushed tones. The older man shrugged.
"Hard to say: couple of hundred square miles, at least. Cavern's too huge to be artificial; must have formed when the planet was molten and plastic—huge gas bubble got trapped beneath the surface and hardened. Mars is smaller than Earth, you know, and cooled a heck of a lot faster."
"Yeah," Brant nodded. "Also has a lot less gravity. Back home, the sheer weight of the continent above it would have made this place collapse early on."
"Quite right," mused Harbin. He seemed beside himself with delight at having discovered what must surely have been the most astounding of all the many mysteries of Mars.
Brant looked down the mossy slope to see what lay beyond, but a range of low hills blocked the distance from his view. Then Zuarra clutched his bare arm, pointing.
"What—what are those, O Brant?" she whispered.
He looked away to the right, in the direction the woman had indicated, and saw to his further amazement something remarkably like a forest. But it was not a forest of trees, or like anything he had ever seen before. . . .
It was a forest of tall, spongy things that looked for all the world like mushrooms or toadstools. But even back home, mushrooms had never to his knowledge grown so huge. Many of them were four or five feet high, but some stood as tall as ten or twelve.
Suoli gasped and clapped her hands with delight at the fungus forest. Even Brant had to admire the brilliant colors, and let his eyes feast on their delicious variety. The fungus growths were of every shade from chalk white to rich cream, canary yellow, tangerine, umber, rust brown. And they were spotted or striped or splotched with vivid green, rich crimson, purple and vermilion.
The Martians drank in the view delightedly. And this was only natural, since their dreary world offered so little by way of color or contrast upon which to feed the eye. Little more than red sand, slate gray rock, and dully purple sky.
Brant looked questioningly at Harbin, but the other man shook his head simply.
"Don't ask me, Jim! We've never even found fossil records of anything like that, and precious little fossil vegetation of any description," he said. "But, then, after all, we've only been here on Mars for a few generations, and it took us centuries to compile a fossil record of Earth, and even it's still not complete."
Brant made no reply, save for a slight, cynical smile. The Colonial Administration here on Mars, like most of the governments back earthside, were probably equally reluctant to expend any funds to support something as obviously unprofitable as fossil-hunting. . . .
Zuarra slipped her small, strong hand into Brant's big paw and gently urged him in the direction of the fungus-forest. He followed, wanting a closer look at the huge, nodding stalks with their bulbous heads, and the others trailed behind. Following Harbin's example, Brant removed his boots to enjoy the dewy carpet of moss under his bare feet.
Closer, they paused to breathe in the odd aroma of the forest. There
Will Harbin had removed his boots and was working his toes blissfully in the dewy moss, much as a small boy might wriggle his bare toes in the deliciously damp grass of a meadow.
The dim opalescent luminance was everywhere, brighter than moonlight back earthside, but only a shade dimmer than the wan daylight of the Desert World. It seemed sourceless and omnipresent and cast no discernible shadows.
Brant looked up, to discover another marvel. The sky was dark, so dark that you could hardly see the rocky roof of the enormous cavern in which they found themselves. And enormous was the word—it seemed to go on for miles.
"Doc, just how big is this place?" asked Brant in awed, hushed tones. The older man shrugged.
"Hard to say: couple of hundred square miles, at least. Cavern's too huge to be artificial; must have formed when the planet was molten and plastic—huge gas bubble got trapped beneath the surface and hardened. Mars is smaller than Earth, you know, and cooled a heck of a lot faster."
"Yeah," Brant nodded. "Also has a lot less gravity. Back home, the sheer weight of the continent above it would have made this place collapse early on."
"Quite right," mused Harbin. He seemed beside himself with delight at having discovered what must surely have been the most astounding of all the many mysteries of Mars.
Brant looked down the mossy slope to see what lay beyond, but a range of low hills blocked the distance from his view. Then Zuarra clutched his bare arm, pointing.
"What—what are those, O Brant?" she whispered.
He looked away to the right, in the direction the woman had indicated, and saw to his further amazement something remarkably like a forest. But it was not a forest of trees, or like anything he had ever seen before. . . .
It was a forest of tall, spongy things that looked for all the world like mushrooms or toadstools. But even back home, mushrooms had never to his knowledge grown so huge. Many of them were four or five feet high, but some stood as tall as ten or twelve.
Suoli gasped and clapped her hands with delight at the fungus forest. Even Brant had to admire the brilliant colors, and let his eyes feast on their delicious variety. The fungus growths were of every shade from chalk white to rich cream, canary yellow, tangerine, umber, rust brown. And they were spotted or striped or splotched with vivid green, rich crimson, purple and vermilion.
The Martians drank in the view delightedly. And this was only natural, since their dreary world offered so little by way of color or contrast upon which to feed the eye. Little more than red sand, slate gray rock, and dully purple sky.
Brant looked questioningly at Harbin, but the other man shook his head simply.
"Don't ask me, Jim! We've never even found fossil records of anything like that, and precious little fossil vegetation of any description," he said. "But, then, after all, we've only been here on Mars for a few generations, and it took us centuries to compile a fossil record of Earth, and even it's still not complete."
Brant made no reply, save for a slight, cynical smile. The Colonial Administration here on Mars, like most of the governments back earthside, were probably equally reluctant to expend any funds to support something as obviously unprofitable as fossil-hunting. . . .
Zuarra slipped her small, strong hand into Brant's big paw and gently urged him in the direction of the fungus-forest. He followed, wanting a closer look at the huge, nodding stalks with their bulbous heads, and the others trailed behind. Following Harbin's example, Brant removed his boots to enjoy the dewy carpet of moss under his bare feet.
Closer, they paused to breathe in the odd aroma of the forest. There
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