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The Record of Currupira By: Robert Abernathy (1924-1990) |
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This story contains what is, to us, at any rate, a novel
idea that when we of Earth finally reach Mars we may find
there records of prehistoric Earth far surpassing those of our
paleontologists. Or, in other words, that creatures of Mars
may have visited this planet tens of thousands of years ago
and returned home with specimens for their science. A nice
idea well told.
THE RECORD OF CURRUPIRA by ... Robert Abernathy
From ancient Martian records came the grim song of a creature
whose very existence was long forgotten.
James Dalton strode briskly through the main exhibit room of New
York's Martian Museum, hardly glancing to right or left though many
displays had been added since his last visit. The rockets were coming
home regularly now and their most valuable cargoes at least from a
scientist's point of view were the relics of an alien civilization
brought to light by the archeologists excavating the great dead
cities. One new exhibit did catch Dalton's eye. He paused to read the label
with interest MAN FROM MARS: The body here preserved was found December 12, 2001, by an
exploring party from the spaceship NEVADA, in the Martian
city which we designate E 3. It rested in a case much like
this, in a building that had evidently been the municipal
museum. Around it, in other cases likewise undisturbed since a
period estimated at fifty thousand years ago, were a number of
Earthly artifacts. These finds prove beyond doubt that a
Martian scientific expedition visited Earth before the dawn of
our history. On the label someone had painstakingly copied the Martian glyphs found
on the mummy's original case. Dalton's eyes traced the looping
ornamental script he was one of the very few men who had put in the
years of work necessary to read inscriptional Martian and he smiled
appreciation of a jest that had taken fifty thousand years to
ripen the writing said simply, Man From Earth . The mummy lying on a sculptured catafalque beyond the glass was
amazingly well preserved far more lifelike and immensely older than
anything Egypt had yielded. Long dead Martian embalmers had done a
good job even on what to them was the corpse of an other world
monster. He had been a small wiry man. His skin was dark though its color might
have been affected by mummification. His features suggested those of
the Forest Indian. Beside him lay his flaked stone ax, his
bone pointed spear and spear thrower, likewise preserved by a
marvelous chemistry. Looking down at that ancient nameless ancestor, Dalton was moved to
solemn thoughts. This creature had been first of all human kind to
make the tremendous crossing to Mars had seen its lost race in living
glory, had died there and became a museum exhibit for the multiple
eyes of wise grey spiderish aliens. "Interested in Oswald, sir?" Dalton glanced up and saw an attendant. "I was just thinking if he
could only talk! He does have a name, then?" The guard grinned. "Well, we call him Oswald. Sort of inconvenient,
not having a name. When I worked at the Metropolitan we used to call
all the Pharaohs and Assyrian kings by their first names." Dalton mentally classified another example of the deep human need for
verbal handles to lift unwieldy chunks of environment. The
professional thought recalled him to business and he glanced at his
watch. "I'm supposed to meet Dr. Oliver Thwaite here this morning. Has he
come in yet?" "The archeologist? He's here early and late when he's on Earth. He'll
be up in the cataloguing department now. Want me to show you " "I know the way," said Dalton. "Thanks all the same." He left the
elevator at the fourth floor and impatiently pushed open the main
cataloguing room's glazed door. Inside cabinets and broad tables bore a wilderness of strange
artifacts, many still crusted with red Martian sand... Continue reading book >>
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