THE SPACESHIP THAT CRIED
Annabella Foxx


I 

The crowd watched the car as it glided past them. It was an unusual enough sight to see in these days of petrol rationing; but this car was big and plush as well; the sort of car that only the royalty could afford. Some stared trying to see inside through the darkened windows. As they trudged along the slush covered pavement, steeling themselves against the biting wind, others just muttered and cursed that the elitist class could still survive in this day and age. 

Inside the car a pale faced figure sat on a lavish seat, failing to appreciate his exotic surroundings or the warmth of the interior heating. The compartment of the car was sound proofed, so that he could hear nothing happening outside. 

II 

Richard felt at peace for the first time since he'd lost his wife. He felt satisfied. He had achieved something, clawed his way back up from the depths of the despair that he had sunk into. 

He had spent the last five years on the Earth-Mars run, and knew it back to front, every movement from Europort to Markad. That was what had qualified him to be considered for the job; that and his telepathic abilities. But it was his attachment to Mars that the psycho analytical report had revealed that had clinched the appointment. 

But it was hardly surprising that Mars should feature so strongly in his mind, for that was where his wife had lived and died. He involuntarily winced as he thought about her, and how her telepathic waves had washed through his brain in huge waves of pleasure. Even now he could still feel it in his head. but it did nothing to lift his despair or dilute his bitterness. Nowhere on Earth or Mars was there another girl to match her. 

But now he had something to be proud of; he was to become the first man to form a telepathic link with the mechanical brain of the latest of the Space Fleet's automatic ships. The machine had the ability to make independent decisions, but needed the telepathic link with a human brain drawing its power from the human's sub-conscious depths. 

III 

It sped through space between Earth and Mars, that huge bulbous machine that carried the minerals and oils that depleted Earth so required. What experiences their combined brain-mind underwent; what feelings they felt, no-one else knows, nor could understand; but they went from greatness to greatness, as the relations between Earth and Mars degenerated almost as fast as the ship could flash at sub-light speeds between the two planets, in that strange dimension where no human could exist. 

IV 

"For too long we've been exploited by Earth," the politician shouted to the angry crowd. "They steal our minerals from our soil with their huge machine so that they can maintain their lives of luxury, while we scrape an existence in poverty. I say it's about time we stopped it; let's see how long they can last without our minerals and oils. I demand that we refuse landing permission to that monstrosity called 'The Star Of Europort'. They won't be able to ship their minerals without it!" 

V 

"Please repeat," the mechanical/human linked brain requested. 

"Landing permission is refused. You are not welcome. You will never be allowed to touch down on Mars again." 

The ship did not acknowledge. It did not transmit or receive anymore audible messages. Its scanners turned down to the surface of the planet. How it longed to feel the red dust under its landing feet, to see the green canals again; to sink its mechanical diggers into the rich veins of minerals. Was this to be its fate; to hang in space, to see only it's memories, but never to touch the soil of Mars again? 

VI 

At Europort control, Richard suddenly stiffened in his seat, and sat trance like for several minutes as impulses flashed between his and the machine's brain. "No," he screamed, wild eyed. 

That was the last thing of any sense he ever said. 

VII 

"I am Captain Scart, Commander of the Martian Space Ship 'Markad Gem'. I was assigned to observe the reaction of the Earth ship 'The Star of Europort' and to ensure that it did not attempt to land after it was refused permission to enter our atmosphere." 

"It started to move out of orbit, turning away from the direction of Earth out into deep space. Then it turned round, back into orbit around Mars, it was close, too close; it suddenly fell and began to burn up. But just before it went down, I know you'll say I'm crazy, but well, I always said it had a kind of human face, and those two fuel inlets always looked like eyes." He paused, looking embarrassed. "Well, just before it dropped, it began to leak fuel, slowly, about a gallon a second, I would estimate. It looked like it was crying. Honestly, it really did." 

VIII 

Down on the surface of Mars, a huge shooting star lit up the sky. To anyone so attuned, a monstrous blast of telepathic impulses sprayed across the planet's surface. Love, hate, sadness, bitterness, tenderness and regret, each one now linked by a frenzied insanity. 

IX 

The group of psychiatrists and surgeons were unanimous in their verdict that Richard's mind had been burnt out, and recommended that he should be transferred to the Europort Hospital so that a through investigation could be carried out. He was dispatched on a priority basis; even to the extent of using some of the small petrol supply they had left, to propel the car. 

X 

In the middle of the road, the burnt out wreckage of the car lay on its side, destroyed by a frenzied mob. None of the participants could say why they had suddenly turned from anger to murderous destruction, but they had. The occupants of the car had been shown no mercy, even though the passenger seemed to be in some form of coma. 

They left the bodies by the side of the road, as an example. Only channels of the grass remained green, the rest was red, stained with blood. 



 