The Spirit of Mars, and Other Stories

By Eamonn Murphy

Eamonn Murphy is back with another collection of short stories that will enthrall you, take you to other worlds, leave you thinking, and maybe even tickle your funny bone.
Another collection of short stories that were first published in Nomadic Delirium Press magazines, you are sure to find a story or eight in this collection that you will enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nomadic Delirium Press
• Release date: Mar 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215394106

Eamonn Murphy

Eamonn Murphy was born and bred in the south-west of England many years ago. He grew man-size but retained childish interests like science fiction, fantasy and comic books. Never settling to a career he earned beer money on building sites and in call centres. He has a perfectly useless degree in Humanities and History from the Open University. Now, aged, bent and broken, he lives in a quiet cottage with a nice lady where he types reviews for sfcrowsnest and stories for small press publications. Website at https://eamonnmurphywriter298729969.wordpress.com/

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The Spirit of Mars, and Other Stories

A short story collection

By Eamonn Murphy

Published by Nomadic Delirium Press at Smashwords

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Nomadic Delirium Press

Aurora, Colorado

Contents

The Spirit of Mars

The Little Martian

Such People

The Creature

The Odarnit

Flour Power

Custer's Paradox

The Bard

The Spirit of Mars

‘Put down that wrench!’

Wyatt Finch repressed a sigh and turned slowly. In the low gravity of Mars, he had learned it was best to do everything slowly. He recognised the voice of Amy Wingfoot, the psychologist charged with supervising the mental health of the other forty-nine inhabitants of Mars Station Beta.

Finch pulled at the front of his navy blue overalls with a clenched fist, an involuntary gesture. Then he noticed Wingfoot looking at the fist and relaxed it. She would pick up signs of tension and aggression.

Bully for her, thought Wyatt. I’ve got both right now.

‘How can I help, Ms. Wingfoot?’ She wore the green tunic and trousers that represented medical personnel on the station. It was tight in all the right places, but he tried not to think about that. She was out of his league.

‘What were you doing?’ she asked. Her brown eyes watchful, and her full lips sternly compressed.

‘I was adjusting the wheel of this airlock. Someone reported a fault.’ All airlocks in the station usually opened and closed electronically, but there was an old-fashioned metal wheel for manual override in emergencies.

‘It looked like you were opening it.’

‘No. I’m neither a saboteur nor a lunatic, and I prefer air to vacuum. I turned the wheel anti-clockwise slightly to get better access to one bolt. That spoke was in my way.’ He pointed to one of the metal bars connecting the wheel hub to the outer circle.

‘You seemed distracted.’ She was still alert, but her tone had softened.

‘Distracted,’ he confirmed, ‘but not crazy.’ He scratched at his blond hair. ‘I can’t believe you’re hassling me about this, doc. We’re all jumpy with the news from Earth but’ - he spread his arms in a gesture of helplessness - ‘can’t a man look distracted when his son is arriving on the next shuttle?’

She managed a smile. ‘Yes, I heard about Ricky. A boy genius, isn’t he?’

‘Sixteen now,’ replied Wyatt. ‘Old enough to work here.’ Mars Station Beta was mostly adults, but there were a few children. Families were not excluded, despite the potential danger of their situation. Wyatt wasn’t sure about that given the unknown fate of Mars Station Alpha, but Ricky was old enough to make up his own mind.

Amy Wingfoot looked at her watch, then at the airlock. ‘Do you have time to finish that before the shuttle arrives?’

‘Just about.’

‘Get to it.’

‘Will you report this?’

She shook her head. ‘No. As the only psychologist here, I’m under pressure, too, waiting for someone to crack. I make mistakes. It’s like sitting on a time bomb.’

‘I know how that feels.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘You do?’

‘I worked in bomb disposal during the Age of Terrorism that preceded World War III.’

‘I’ll mark you down as least likely to give under pressure then.’ She smiled. ‘Good luck with your son.’

She left, and he finished the job. He had already arranged downtime to meet Ricky. In fact, half the station would be there because this was the first ship from Earth since Mars Station Beta had been established, and it was bringing fifty more colonists to join the fifty already there.

Hopefully, there were no saboteurs among them.

As he made his way to the airlock where the new colonists would arrive, Wyatt pondered the situation Earthside. Mars Station Beta was an international project staffed by an international team. World War III had settled the global tensions for a while, but there were still nation states competing for resources, and that was the issue. Resources. Fossil fuels were virtually finished, and since the war, some formerly fertile areas were now radioactive wasteland. Food was not plentiful, and, as ever, there was poverty.

In these circumstances, many people saw the Mars colony as an unnecessary and irresponsible waste of time and money; and the feeling was growing. Just last week, there had been a day of protest simultaneously in some of Earth’s capital cities. Wyatt had sat in one of the recreation rooms with many others watching as people cursed them and demanded they come home. They all had ties on Earth, and even though they were trying to colonise another world, they had a psychological need for the amity and support of the people back home. Performing a dangerous mission with everyone backing you was bad enough. Doing it while being hated for the activity was much more challenging.

Still, at least from now on, Wyatt would have his son.

As expected, there were about thirty people in the reception area for the shuttle, including an official welcoming party led by Commander Roger Anderson and Vasili Andropova, his second in command. The pair represented the two groups on Mars, soldiers and scientists. They stood side by side amicably enough, but it was common knowledge that relations were cool between them. Anderson was a former American military man who had little patience with undisciplined scientists. Andropova was a scientist devoted to genetic research and disliked his military discipline. Wyatt had worked in the military and in civilian life afterwards, so he could understand both points of view.

He noticed Amy Wingfoot stood behind Anderson. She smiled at him, which was reassuring. He found a bench against the wall where he could sit and wait.

He could picture the scene outside. The shuttle would have landed as close as possible to Mars Station Beta’s docking area. A crew in environmental suits would connect the ship to the station with a strong and flexible airtight tube two metres in diameter. Fifty new Marsmen could get from one to the other in simple street clothes. The receiving airlock wasn’t big enough to take all of them at once, so they entered in groups of ten.

After a short while, the green light flashed. Someone opened the inner airlock, and the first of the new colonists shuffled uncertainly into their new home. A lieutenant hurried over to bring them across to Anderson and Andropova for the official greeting.

Ricky was in the second batch of colonists, recognisable because he towered over everyone else. Wyatt was of average height and stocky build, so the boy obviously got that tall, lean look from his beautiful mother Beth, a genius of a woman who had no business marrying a fool like him but had done so. She had died in the flash of an atomic bomb during the war, working away from home. He often