General Treegar.
At 03:00 this morning,
the expeditionary X-1 rocket ship,
missing for 61 days,
was sighted by Mount Palomar,
drifting in orbit
some 90,000 miles out in space.
All attempts to establish radio
communication have failed so far.
We don't know if anyone
is left alive on board.
The MR-1 appears to be
a dead ship!
We've had no contact with the rocket
since it entered Mars orbit
over two months ago and reported
preparing to land on the planet.
The ship was believed to have crashed
in the landing attempt.
But she didn't!
Gentlemen,
the Mars rocket must be retrieved
and brought back to Earth intact!
That's a tall order, George.
I know.
But the recording instruments on that ship
contain priceless information
covering the entire trip.
We must have it!
Professor Weiner,
what are our chances?
They depend on several factors, General.
The MR-1 is, of course,
equipped with robot control,
which can be activated by
remote triggering from Earth...
If they're operative.
The Nevada Base is alerted to handle it.
They're on standby.
Go on, Professor.
If there's enough fuel on board,
we can send the ship homing for the Nevada Base.
And if the fuel holds out
through the re-entry deceleration,
we can set her down safely.
Here's another if--
what if there is someone on board,
alive?
Major Ross,
has communications established any contact?
No, sir. None.
It could be radio failure.
Someone must have taken the ship off Mars.
The unexpected,
remotely-controlled acceleration of, uh, of--
Five, six G's.
Five, six G's could be dangerous to them,
even fatal!
And how long will they last
if we leave them out there?
Then it's decided!
We take off for Nevada at once.
We're getting it now, sir,
on the radar telescope screen.
There she is.
Good.
Are you ready?
Yes.
Activate!
Attention, please.
Minus one minute.
Repeat. Minus one minute.
Start final countdown.
Tracking, tracking.
Rotary fuel pumps on!
Recording tapes running.
Minus 30 seconds.
Minus 30.
Mark!
Main guiding gyros starting.
Running true.
Minus 20 seconds,
Minus 20.
Remote-control firing switches...
On!
Ten seconds.
Nine
Eight
Seven
Six
Five
Four
Three
Two
One...
Fire.
She's off!
Great!
Then there is fuel aboard.
Right!
But there's only one question--
How much?
Well done, Professor!
Davis, I want the exact arrival time
of the ship computed.
Notify me as soon as you have it.
Yes, sir.
The answers to this
and the many other questions
posed by anxious officials
may come tonight,
when an attempt will be made
to land the Mars rocket ship
at a remote Air Force Base in Nevada.
There is still the question of fuel--
Does the ship have enough fuel left
for a safe deceleration?
Or will it burn up in our atmosphere
like a blazing meteor?
The world waits with suspense
to learn the fate
of the ship's crew of four,
seen here in newsreel shots
prior to the departure of the MR-1.
Colonel Tom O'Bannion,
United States Air Force,
the pilot navigator.
Dr. Iris Ryan,
brilliant young authority
on the sciences of biology and zoology,
daughter of the late Professor Alfred Ryan.
Professor Theodore Gettell,
the designer of the rocket ship
and the world's foremost authority
on space and rocketry.
And chief warrant Officer Sam Jacobs,
electronics and radar expert.
The prayers of a grateful nation tonight
will be offered in the hope
that these four survived
their history-making flight.
Five minutes more. Yeah.
What do you think? Anyone aboard?
Alive, I mean?
We'll know soon enough.
Hey, look!
- You know what I think? - What?
That thing up there--
It's a flying coffin.
Looks good so far.
Colonel Davis, anything
on the distant- radiation counter?
Negative.
Radiation monitors in position!
Radiation monitors, check.
Attention, please.
This is a repeat of previous instructions.
No one is to approach the ship
unless ordered by Control.
I repeat, no one is to approach
the ship unless so ordered.
Radiation monitors,
proceed to the rocket.
Start your check.
All counts still in the green zone.
Hull radiation within safety zone.
Good.
Radiation monitors, stand back.
Recovery squad, move up.
No shielding necessary
to open airlock.
Monitors, stand by to check
interior radiation.
Hold it! Look!
Recovery squad, hold!
Someone's alive.
The girl!
To hell with radiation! Let's go!
Come on, let's go!
Stretcher bearers!
Aw, come on, Sarge,
give me a break, will ya?
Who is it?
Can't see his face.
Hey, what is it, man?
Come on, Iris.
Anything that can be
done for him will be done.
How can anyone cope with that?
Come on, Dr. Ryan,
we'll follow.
I've given him a sedative.
Should keep him quiet.
He's running a high temperature.
Dr. Gordon,
that--that growth...
What are we up against?
I don't know.
It's spreading rapidly.
Do you have any idea what it might be?
No, I haven't yet.
If we only knew how
or by what he was infected,
we might know how to combat the disease.
But we're working in the dark.
What about the tape records?
Has anything been learned from them?
That's just it.
General Treegar informed me
that there are no records.
No tapes at all?
Yes, many of them!
Marked and filed from the first day out.
They've examined about half of them by now,
all of them empty.
Nothing on them?
Silent,
as though they'd been erased
by some powerful magnetic force!
Treegar expects they're all like that.
Then we may never know.
We have one chance--
The girl!
She is actually our only hope.
If she could give us a lead...
What is Dr. Ryan's condition?
Exhaustion, shock.
She's resting.
We should be able to talk to her
in a couple of hours.
We have very little time.
I hope she comes through.
Dr. Ryan,
will you talk to us now?
I'll try.
How is he?
Will he be all right?
We're doing everything we can.
What happened to him?
I don't know.
I can't remember.
Iris,
a lot will depend on
what you can tell us.
Please,
try to remember.
How was he infected?
By what?
I can't--
I can't remember.
Why don't you start at the beginning?
Tell us everything that happened
from the day you left.
It may help clear your mind.
Yes--yes, I'll try.
The takeoff was
as we expected.
We reached escape velocity,
and Tom cut in the steady
1-G acceleration rockets.
We were all in high spirits
as we finished our flight-check.
Well, it's not much different
from the dry run
in the space-test cabin on the Base, huh?
A lot easier, if you ask me.
And no "Eager Treegar"
to throw imaginary problems at us, either!
That's what the man said, Sam.
"The trip will probably be
boring routine!"
Just so you blasé space travelers
don't get too bored,
the radiation count is jumping.
Radioactive meteor?
Looks like it.
Both the radar scope pattern
and the erratic gamma-count fit.
Well, let's double check, mmm?
Visual direct, too.
Right.
Meteor confirmed.
Intersecting course.
Safety margin adequate.
I wish my parents could have seen this.
They spent their lives making it possible.
Mars--
The Red Planet.
Our destination.
Look, both moons are visible.
Hey, two moons--
What a place for romance, huh?
And songwriters.
♪ Two moons, da da da da da ♪
♪ da da da! ♪
Let's close your mouth
and the port guards, huh?
No use getting the view plates
scratched up by meteor dust.
I know, I know, okay, okay!
MR-1 to EB-9.
Come in, please.
Oh, Sam, get it all
on tape, will ya?
I've got it on the auxiliary tape, sir.
MR-1, this is EB-9. Over.
MR-1 to EB-9,
condition A.
Condition A.
Everything's under control. Over.
Well, we're still in our own back yard.
The radio time-lag is only a few seconds.
Wait till it's a couple of hours.
Our conversation is going
to be a real drag then.
MR-1,
Base computations confirm report.
You are on course,
on schedule.
Hey, you look real good up there.
Over and out!
Thanks a lot.
Over and out!
Good old mother hen
watching over her four little chicks.
We're thousands of miles out in space.
It's hard to believe.
Yeah, any minute now,
I expect to see
General Treegar come through that hatch and say,
"All right,
"enough work for today.
"Let's everybody go out to Tony's
"and have a little drink."
Well, that would be a little hard to do.
Tony's is 30,000 miles from here.
Well, we wanna be able
to face reality on our watch.
Come on, Sam.
Let's get some rest, huh?
Okay, Professor, I dig.
It's really happening.
You know, Irish,
reminds me of when I was a kid.
I can just see you.
I remember when I got my first dog.
I was crazy about that dog.
I wanted him to sleep in my room,
but my family wouldn't allow it.
I used to go downstairs
a dozen times during the night
to make sure that he was there.
Then you were sure.
Uh-huh.
And pretty soon, people will be
just as sure of space travel
as I was of my dog...
And as I'd like to be of you.
Makes Broadway look like a dark alley.
When we get back, Irish...
How about exploring that dark alley...
Together?
You, Colonel, sir,
may have a date.
MR-1 to EB-9.
Report 7-9
Time--
17 days, 11:03 hours.
Position--
"Triangle Easy Fox Baker."
On course, on schedule.
Condition A.
Over and out.
Hey, when's chow, huh?
Comin' up. Come on, Tom.
You can help me with the rations.
I'd rather be carving
a thick steak at Tony's.
Make it medium rare and I'll join you.
Will you take a rain check?
If it won't bounce.
Hmm.
Here we are between two dots.
We could miss either one of 'em,
and never know it.
Mars Rocket 1, Ration B.
Mars...
The Angry Red Planet.
Sounds so foreboding, doesn't it?
Mars!
Ancient God of war.
Afraid, Irish?
A little.
Apprehensive, I guess.
Oh, we all are
or we wouldn't be human.
I know this is a funny way
for a scientist to feel, but...
I wonder if some things aren't better
unknown?
That's what they said on the Santa Maria
before they discovered the new world.
By mistake.
You know, Irish,
you're the first scientist
I've ever known
with lovely, long red hair.
And you're the first pilot
I've ever gone to Mars with.
And listen,
my name is Iris,
not Irish.
I never know if you're calling me
by name or nationality.
When I call you by name,
you'll know it.
"So Oola ran screaming across
"the burning martian sands
"as the monster Ongola
"relentlessly pursued her,
"his five arms reaching hungrily for her.
"To be continued next week."
And that was the last issue
before we took off.
Mars...
Martians, monsters.
I wonder if I'll ever
get to see that next issue.
EB-9 to MR-1.
Report number 7-6.
Orbiting Mars.
Repeat-- orbiting Mars.
Landing operation beginning.
Rockets reversing for landing.
Condition A.
Recording tapes running.
Gravity pull-- 0.38, Earth Standard.
0.38, E.S.
Speed-- 3.1 miles per second.
Deceleration ratio-- 17.5.
Atmosphere density resistance factor--
0-0, 1-2.
Resistance factor-- 0-0, 1-2.
Drift-- 0.
Longitudinal axis-- 100 percent.
Vertical deviation-- 0.
Ready automatic braking rockets.
Automatic braking rockets on.
Instrument lights.
Stand by.
Hold onto your hats, kids!
Here we go!
Rockets on!
Well, shall we go out
and claim the planet
in the name of Brooklyn?
Not yet, Sam.
Open the viewports, Tom.
Okay.
Turn on the outside mike, Sam.
Yes, sir.
Strange.
Nothing moves.
Everything seems to be...
Waiting.
Shoot anything that moves and
pick up anything that doesn't.
You know something, I'm gonna take that advice,
especially on the first count.
Turn up the volume, Sam.
Well,
come on, Iris.
Let's get to work on our tests, huh?
You take the microbe count
and radiation.
I'll work on the atmospheric composition,
temperature.
Keep a sharp lookout, Sammy.
Anything moves, yell.
You know, it's so quiet out there,
if anything does move,
I'm gonna jump right out of my skin.
Something will.
With all that vegetation out there,
there's bound to be something alive.
You mean, like five-armed Ongolas?
What?
Don't worry, Sammy.
We O'Bannions are charmed.
Yeah, but maybe us Jacobs ain't?
You know, my dad, when I was a kid,
told me about my grandfather.
He had sort of a sixth sense,
particularly in Indian country.
When there were any Indians around,
his ears would begin to twitch.
Runs in the family.
Oh, well, I am reassured, Colonel, sir.
Only, do me a small favor, will ya?
If your ears start to twitch,
will you let me know fast?
I'll twitch with you.
Anything move yet, Sam?
Not a thing.
Stay here.
Hey!
I told you not to leave
that thing layin' around.
Iris tripped over it.
She dropped a tray of test tubes.
Boy, I'm sorry, Colonel.
Aw, that's all right, Sammy.
No surprises, Tom.
The atmosphere is pretty much like
we thought-- thin, extremely thin.
Not enough oxygen to sustain us,
but undoubtedly enough
for some kind of native animal life.
Well, like you said, Professor--
No surprises.
You seen anything yet, Sam?
Just those frozen vegetables.
Any sounds?
Not a peep.
If those martians are out there,
they must be invisible.
No movement at all.
"Weirdsville," as my grandmother used to say.
Keep your eyes open, huh?
Yes, sir.
We've landed near the Equatorial Belt.
Now, if there is any native intelligence
around here, it should be in this area.
I think you must be right.
Sorry about the sound effects.
Aw, forget it, Irish.
This crazy silence
and lack of movement's
gotten us all.
It doesn't make any sense, Sammy.
Something has got to move.
What's the matter, Colonel? Your ears twitch?
Aw, just a hunch.
Yeah? What?
I know there's something out there.
Sure, like the invisible martian?
Are you certain
the outside mikes are on, Sam?
Full volume.
You know,
the atmosphere is very rare.
It wouldn't conduct sound too well.
Of course.
That might also explain
why the plants don't move.
No breeze.
I wonder...
Could it be...
Intentional?
I know it sounds unreasonable,
but it just doesn't seem natural.
You mean, you think it's controlled?
What beings could possibly
exercise such fantastic control?
Well, there's one way to find out.
I'm going out there.
Tom, wait, I--I don't want you to--
No, no, no, we'll all go.
It's about time Iris and I
had a chance to use
some of this expensive
lab equipment of ours.
All right.
Get your suits.
You know something, Professor?
It's the first time in my life I've
ever really been scared.
There's nothin' out there except
a bunch of crazy plants.
It takes a brave man to admit his fears, Sam.
We're all afraid of the unknown.
Yeah.
Yeah!
You okay, Irish?
Mm-hmm. I'm actually looking
forward to start to work.
You know,
I can't say that I recommend
space suits for beautiful young dolls.
What happened to all your lovely curves?
No, Sammy! Some of the creations
I've seen in New York store windows
didn't look too much better.
Yeah, well, I'm convinced that
all fashion designers are woman-haters.
Ahh!
Dr. Ryan, what is it?
What happened?
I don't know.
I can't remember.
All I know is...
It was horrible.
All right,
all right.
You rest now,
and we'll talk to you later.
Nurse, sodium aluminol,
2 1/2 grains.
Yes, Doctor. Intravenous?
Yes.
She's obviously had
a tremendous shock.
She has a mental block.
Her mind refuses
to remember something.
You noticed her memory is already
beginning to take on a quality of unreality.
We must know what happened.
A man's life, perhaps more, depends on it.
I know.
Suppose this alien infection spreads
to all of us.
Every moment counts.
What about the tapes?
Any result?
We've gone through nearly all of them.
Empty.
Dr. Ryan must remember.
What about narcosynthesis?
Well, it's our only hope.
But she's pretty weak.
She ought to get some rest
before we use drugs.
Her mind might snap
if we forced her
to remember the horror
she has so carefully obliterated
from her conscious level.
Would she be able to remember
what actually happened?
She'll be able to remember
anything familiar quite normally.
Although, when we penetrate her mind block
into her suppressed memories,
her recall will be undoubtedly colored by
her mind's own interpretation
of what she experienced.
In effect, whenever she's remembering
anything that was alien,
frightening to her,
we'll see it as her mind saw it.
Exactly.
And remember,
her mind had to save itself by forgetting.
Dr. Gordon.
How is he?
Is he getting worse?
I'm afraid so.
We don't know what it is
we're fighting, Iris.
And I'm the only one who can help you,
by remembering.
There is a way you can force me
to remember, isn't there?
There is.
Then use it.
Dr. Ryan,
you've had quite an ordeal.
You need to build up your strength.
You need rest.
The shock of forced memory recall
under the influence of drugs
can be dangerous for you.
And how long can he wait?
Please, Dr. Gordon.
What is it, Irish?
The port outside.
Tom, it--it was horrible.
Stay with her, Sammy.
There's nothing there, Irish.
But I saw it!
What did you see?
It was like a huge distorted face, with--
With three bulging eyes.
But there's nothing there now.
I tell you, it was there!
Hey, three eyes!
What a crazy Peepin' Tom, huh?
It was staring right at me.
There's nothing moving.
There's nothing there.
You don't believe me, do you?
Hey, everybody.
C'mon, with all this waitin' around,
it's a wonder I didn't get to see the thing.
I did see it, Sam.
I really did.
Please,
couldn't you just make believe you didn't?
I'd be much less scared.
If that thing is out there,
we won't find out about it in here.
You're so right.
Let's go out and take a look, Gettell.
Irish, you stay here with Sammy.
Not on your life,
Colonel O'Bannion!
I'm going, too!
Well, hey, wait for me!
Check your oxygen gauge.
Okay.
Now, this'll be S.O.P.
Even though these intercoms
carry for miles,
I want you to always
stay in sight of me.
Sam, your ultra-sonic freeze
gun hooked up alright?
Yes, sir.
Why don't we check it?
That plant over there.
All right, huh?
Yeah!
Very all right. Wow!
The pickup mikes are on, Tom.
I heard it shatter.
What about you? Yes, it checks.
Loud and clear. four-by-four.
All right, let's go and see
what's in that jungle.
Come on, Irish.
Wait a minute. I won't be long.
It's amazing.
Just let me make
a preliminary examination.
If you ask me, I think we oughta make
a preliminary examination for martians.
We can stay here for a while.
You cover that side
and I'll stay here, Sammy.
Okay.
Fantastic.
All the characteristics of plant life,
but hardly any chlorophyll.
And there seem to be indications of--
of a nervous system.
Nervous system? Well, it looks like it.
Of course, I'll have to make
some more specific tests.
What about the minerals?
Well, I haven't found
anything yet to contradict
the theory that the basic matter
throughout the universe is the same.
But, I have run across
some most unusual chemical combinations.
These vines
are almost like
fingers.
Where are you going, Irish?
I'm tracing this vine.
I'm curious to see where it comes from.
You'd better stick close to me.
Oh, Tom, really!
I know you think I acted like
an hysterical female back at the ship.
But I assure you, I'm perfectly
capable of taking care of myself.
I won't get out of your sight.
Have it your way,
Irish.
Tom!
Now, Sam! Get it!
You all right, Irish?
I think so.
Just let me count to ten.
Count to 100 if you like.
I'm all right now.
Hey, what was that thing?
It's a giant carnivorous plant, Sam.
It feeds by trapping animals
and digesting them,
live.
Lotsa luck. Here, come on,
take a look. Take a look.
If it weren't for you and Tom,
that could've been me.
Well, at least we know there's
animal life up here, huh?
Now he tells me.
It's remarkable.
You were right, Iris.
This is more than just a plant.
It's a low form of
neuromuscular vegetal creature.
What do you say we call it a day
and go back to the ship?
I agree.
We've had enough excitement
and swashbuckling for one day, hmm?
I'm for that.
Any "swash" I ever had
just came unbuckled.
Let's go.
I'm sure glad the boys in ordnance
developed you, baby.
I think I'll call ya
Cleopatra
'cause you're such a cool doll.
Ah, and believe me, Cleo,
you and I will never part.
Never.
Here, Sammy,
for your scrap book.
Hey, what a handsome couple.
Look, Colonel,
me and my new pinup.
There must be other creatures around.
You better take care of that thing.
You never know what else we'll find.
Or what'll find us.
Oh well,
chin up, Sammy boy. Chin up.
You know, Sam,
there's only a little bit of difference
between keeping your chin up
and sticking your neck out.
Colonel, sir, I, for one, know it--
Now.
Was that thing
really trying to kill Iris?
It wasn't just a friendly embrace.
But why weren't we attacked before?
We all passed that--that plant creature.
What are you driving at, Professor?
Well, I can't help feeling that
we're being watched.
That there is some
purpose behind it all.
What's the matter, Professor?
Your ears twitch, too?
Obviously, there is animal life here,
probably intelligent life as well.
And yet, we haven't seen any.
Now, this quiet,
this lack of motion...
Oh, you still think it's
intentional, controlled.
I--I don't know.
But why?
Perhaps, in a way, we're being controlled, too,
through the actions of these lower life forms,
kept harmless, so to speak.
What could control all life here?
It could be some super-intelligent
community mind, I suppose.
Community mind?
Yes.
Like the inexplicable, mysterious control
which keeps a colony of ants
functioning in perfect unity back on Earth.
I got news for you, Professor.
I'll take the ants any day.
Well, we have four days
left to find out.
Isn't your Earth contact
a little late, Sammy?
Yeah, it is.
Over an hour late.
Try your equipment.
It's not equipment failure.
I get nothin' but dead air.
Keep your line open
and try transmitting.
This is MR-1 and this is
a test transmission.
It's no use.
Our signal keeps bouncing back at us.
I can't get through.
There must be some ionized layer
in the martian atmosphere,
keeping those radio waves from going through.
Yeah, and keeping Earth's reports
from reaching us.
I never heard of anything
that'd stop the frequencies I'm using.
Well, you're hearing
about it now.
Keep taping our reports, Sammy.
We're going to stay here
the full five days,
even if it means
no contact with Earth.
Jumpy, Irish?
Afraid so, a little.
See anything?
Nothing.
Everything seems to be dead out there.
It's like a nightmare of unending silence.
I know.
We all feel it.
Then it isn't just me,
because I'm a woman?
Women don't have any monopoly on fear.
Men are more afraid of
being called cowards.
Cowardice is one thing I guess
we can never forgive ourselves.
Look, the sun's rising.
Yeah.
Looks sort of
angry.
All right, everybody,
come and get it! Breakfast's ready!
Hot coffee, hard tack and vitamin pills!
We'll head off in that direction.
Now, remember, stay together.
Come on, Irish.
Well, this certainly looks different.
Look! Those trees over there!
They look different, too.
Yeah, like nothing we've seen.
Hey, let's take a closer look at them.
Okay. Sam and Gettell, you stay here.
Keep Cleo handy.
I'll go with you.
Doesn't look like bark.
Let me have your machete, Tom.
Here.
Oh, it's alive!
Look out, Professor!
Colonel!
I'm givin' her all she's got.
She won't move her!
Cleo isn't budging her!
Stay here.
Aim for the eyes, Sam! Blind it!
Get it!
Are you all right?
Yes, give me a moment.
Are you hurt?
No, no, Iris. I'll be all right.
No bones broken. Just bruised a bit.
Boy, some playmate.
King Kong's big brother.
Even Cleo only gave it a slight chill.
Must be about 40 feet high.
Come on,
let's get back to the ship.
Oh, no, no, no. Wait, Iris.
We don't have much time
for exploring as it is.
We mustn't lose any more
of it on account of me.
It's too important. I'll be fine.
I've been curious as to what's
on the other side of that ridge.
Let's go.
Now there it is,
a martian lake.
It has that same feeling of deadness.
No, wait a minute, Iris.
It's all right.
No abnormal radiation.
So there's water on Mars after all.
Besides the polar icecaps, I mean.
If it is water.
Well, it feels kind of oily.
Seems--
Seems heavier than ordinary water.
Well, it probably has an entirely
different mineral content.
I'm sure it couldn't sustain life,
at least not life
as we know it.
I wonder what's
on the other side?
Well, tomorrow
we'll bring the boat.
The lake isn't so wide.
We'll have a look.
It's getting late.
We meet any more creatures
like that last one,
I'd hate to have to fight 'em in the dark.
Come on.
Some baby, that rat-bat-spider nightmare, huh?
Walked away from Cleo and even after
Cleo turned on all her charms, too.
At least she scared it away.
Yeah,
good girl, that Cleo, huh?
Hey, you know the only thing that bothers me?
Someday, maybe she'll meet a monster
that'll ignore her.
Break her heart.
Mine, too.
Irish,
Sam,
the Professor and I
have come to a decision.
Yes.
In view of everything,
we've decided not to stay the full five days.
Huh?
We're gonna take off tonight.
Tonight?
Mm-hmm.
Sam, prepare the panel
for take off, will you?
Yes, sir. But why?
Well,
Iris, it's probably mostly because of me.
You see,
I can't seem to get it out of my head
that there is an even
greater danger here than we realize.
The controlling force?
Yes.
My orders from General Treegar were
to take no unnecessary chances.
We've fulfilled our mission.
We've landed on Mars.
And we've collected a lot of information,
plenty to prepare for the next expedition.
Now prepare for blastoff. Strap in.
Gettell, close the ports.
Right.
Instrument lights.
Minus 15 seconds. Mark!
Main firing switches,
on.
Minus ten, nine,
eight, seven, six, five,
four, three,
two, one. Fire!
What is it, Tom?
We can save our fuel.
We're not going anywhere.
Look, every pin is glued to the top.
We're in some sort of a force field,
tremendously powerful,
holding us right here.
The control.
Whoever they are,
they don't want us to leave.
Why don't they come out in the open,
whoever they are?
This waiting,
uncertainty,
not knowing--
Why are they keeping us here?
What do they want with us?
What are we?
Guinea pigs?
Take it easy, Irish, easy.
Now, think a minute.
They can't really want to harm us.
If they did, they could've destroyed us
a long time ago.
They must have another reason
for keeping us here.
Tom,
I've run a few tests.
Now, we're being held
by a gravitational pull so strong
that it would take 100 times
the thrust power we have to break free.
I wonder.
Will we ever get back to Earth again?
Well, we're not gonna wait.
Sam, break out the boat.
We'll see what's across that lake.
Didn't we calculate that the other shore
was just over the horizon?
We did.
Well then, we should see it quite soon.
I don't like this place.
I'm with you.
Why?
It's so dead.
Well, it's better than that
walkin' forest we just ran into.
Tom,
take a look at this.
What do you make of it?
Now we're getting somewhere.
Those buildings didn't just grow.
They were made.
Let's get closer.
Yeah,
I want to get
one of those martian girls.
We thought we had it made.
How tall are those buildings?
Why, at least half a mile, I'd say.
Oh, look at that!
Iris, Gettell, get back to the ship.
Sam, try Cleo again.
Yeah, right.
Iris.
Close the door.
Hold it!
Aiy eee!
Close the door.
Sam,
he just...
Easy, Irish, easy, huh?
I'll open the view ports.
Look!
Try the screens.
It's all around us.
Tom, your arm.
Part of that creature touched you.
It's eaten right through the suit.
Like-- like Sam.
You'd better get out of that suit.
I'll get some niacin compound,
just in case.
Give me that suit, Tom.
We'll put it in the disposal unit.
Iris,
what is your opinion of that creature?
Well, I'm sure it's a unicellular animal.
Those two areas inside it must be
the nucleus and the contractile vacuole.
Now, wait a minute. Whoa. Heh.
Let me in on it, Irish, huh?
It's like an amoeba, Tom...
A giant amoeba,
one single cell, without intelligence,
without a nervous system at all.
It reacts completely on instinct to external stimuli.
Ah, we must be safe in here.
The amoeba engulfs its prey
and digests it with extremely strong acids.
It's trying to get to us.
It's incredible.
I wouldn't say that, Tom.
Not after what we saw it do to poor Sam.
Yeah.
It'll take time,
but it probably can eat right through the ship.
Well, we've got to get rid of it someway.
But how?
It can't even be touched with anything we have.
Iris, you've experimented with amoeba on Earth.
What sort of thing affects them?
They're almost impossible to kill.
Even if you cut them in half, both parts will live.
Now, there's got to be some way to get at it.
It can encyst, Tom.
That is, secrete and form a sort of protective envelope.
That's how it withstood the sonic gun.
Heat! Fire!
I could turn on the rocket.
You can't do that, Tom.
With that creature clogging our thrust chamber
we'd have an internal explosion.
Well, we've got to do something!
I can't think of anything.
Hey, wait a minute.
I do remember.
We experimented with electricity.
What happened?
Well, th-the power from a small flashlight battery
killed thousands of amoeba.
That's it! Electric shock!
I can generate half a million volts.
But how are you going to get to it to electrocute it?
You can't go outside, or even open the airlock.
I won't have to.
But what I have in mind could backfire.
If you both don't agree, I won't go through with it.
What is your plan, Tom?
I'll need your help. Check me out.
This ship has a double hull, right?
That's correct.
The outer hull acts as a meteor bumper.
And the outer hull is completely insulated
from the inner one?
Quite effectively.
Good.
Now, is there any way I can
get to the outer hull from in here?
One place only--
The detector instrument cable access channel.
I want to feed the radar power
through the outer hull.
Can it be done?
It would take a lot of rewiring, but,
yes, we can do it.
You see, what I have in mind is to feed
the current through the outer hull,
without it spilling back into the inner one.
What do you think?
And if there is a spill?
Then we won't have to wait
for that thing to eat through to us.
Well, I'm for it.
So am I.
Good. Let's go.
Almost through.
Uh-huh.
Open the view plates.
Well, that's it.
Cut in the generators.
Go ahead, Tom.
Gettell.
What is it?
It's all right. I was j--
it's all right.
Just a little pain, that's all.
The exertion, I suppose.
Aw, c'mon. Take it easy, Professor.
I'll start rewiring it just in case
whatever's holding us here
decides to let us
blast off in a few days.
The radio works.
The force field must be off.
Turn on the recorder, Irish.
Men of Earth, we of the planet Mars,
give you this warning.
Listen carefully and remember.
Professor Gettell!
Oh...
Iris,
I'm sorry.
The takeoff,
the acceleration pressure...
Don't talk now.
Let me help.
No, no.
Wait, Iris.
The ship,
the wiring...
You--you must try...
Tom...
In the cabin...
The cabin...
Ahh!
Tom!
Dr. Ryan,
is that all of it?
What was the warning?
What else did the voice say?
Try to remember.
I don't know.
Tom...
He had me turn on the tape recorder.
Maybe the last tape...
Nurse, light, please.
Here you are, Doctor.
What is it?
Exhaustion.
Will she be all right?
With a lot of rest.
A giant amoeba.
She told us what we had to know.
About Tom?
Yes.
It's an enzymatic infection.
A minute part of the amoebic creature
must have reached Tom's skin.
And it's growing,
literally eating his tissues.
Can you save him?
Now we know what we're fighting.
At least we have a chance.
Dr. Gordon.
All right now.
Three CCs.
All right.
Call me immediately
if there's any change.
Yes, Doctor.
Dr. Gordon tells me
it has resisted everything we've tried.
We have slowed down its growth,
but that's all.
You know more about this creature than anyone.
- We thought that-- - General Treegar,
there is a biological laboratory here, isn't there?
Yes, of course.
Dr. Ryan,
Dr. Ryan!
Dr. Gordon, I think we've found the solution.
What can we do?
I'll show you.
Electricity.
We have already thought of that, Dr. Ryan.
But any kind of electric shock strong enough
to kill the amoeba will also kill Tom.
I know.
Then how?
We've been attacking the alien amoeba
as if it were a disease.
But it isn't. It's an animal,
an animal with instincts,
and most important of all,
a will to act.
It only makes it harder to destroy.
And gives it a vulnerability we also have--
That of making a wrong choice.
Look.
We have two identical tissue cultures there.
Both infested with our own microscopic amoeba
and placed very close to each other.
One we left alone.
The other we subjected
to light periodic electric shocks.
Before long, all the amoeba
on the irritated culture
had made their choice.
They moved to the nearby
undisturbed culture.
Then that is what we have to do.
We will prepare a large tissue culture
and place it next to the infected arm,
then, subject Tom to electric shocks,
just short of being harmful to him.
Better hurry and get out of that bed, Colonel, sir.
Broadway's waiting.
Broadway?
Just like to know if I can cash my rain check?
It's up to you,
Iris.
Tom, Iris, I have something
I want you to hear.
You were right.
The whole speech was on the recorder.
The last tape--
I think you should listen to it.
Sounds important.
Judge for yourself.
Professor Weiner...
Men of Earth, we of the planet Mars give you this warning.
Listen carefully and remember.
We have known your planet Earth
since the first creature
crawled out of the primeval slime
of your seas to become man.
For millennia, we have followed your progress.
For centuries, we have watched you,
listened to your radio signals
and learned your speech and your culture.
And now, you have invaded our home.
Technological adults,
but spiritual and emotional infants.
We kept you here, deciding your fate.
Had the lower forms of life of our planet destroyed you,
we would not have interfered. But you survived.
Your civilization has not progressed
beyond destruction, war and violence
against yourselves and others.
Do as you will to your own and to your planet,
but remember this warning--
Do not return to Mars.
You will be permitted to leave for this sole purpose--
Carry the warning to Earth.
Do not come here.
We can and will destroy you, all life on your planet,
if you do not heed us.
You have seen us,
been permitted to glimpse our world.
Go now.
Warn mankind not to return unbidden.