 Let us send our imaginations forward into time into the years beyond 2000 A.D. What strange adventures, what exciting things will we find in the world of tomorrow? 2000 plus. Today, an adventure of outer space, when the world's met. It is the year 2000 plus 20. At the giant space port in Washington, D.C., temporary capital of the Federated World Government, an enormous throng, tense with expectancy, jams every available inch of space surrounding the rocket landing field. All eyes strain upward into the clear blue sky. For today is the day, April 21st, 2000 plus 20. And audio and televised networks of the world are at the rocket field to cover the epic event. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is the day, the day we've all been waiting for. In a matter of minutes now, out of that brilliant blue sky will come a ship, a spaceship, carrying in its gleaming hold the first load of uranium, taken from the pits of lunar satellite of Earth. Since the beginning of... One moment, folks. There's a signal from the tower. This may be it. Take it away, Fred. This is Fred Haskins reporting from the control tower. Our escort planes have been in contact with the spaceship from lunar for the past 12 minutes. They are now approaching the field from the northeast, and any moment now, we can expect. A white heart from the friction of the atmosphere. Her jet breaks, belching fire. She's right over the field now. She's coming down. Down! This is the dawn of the interplanetary... Lunar City. Lunar City, Johnny Dixon. Dixon, why are you being here three minutes late? Sorry, McCabe. All shipments have scheduled everything routine. Report noted. Check out. Check out. You know, Johnny, what for? Sometimes I think we're crazy. Spending our lives cooped up in this pressurized shell, breathing synthetic air, risking our nets every time we put on a space suit and go out into the cold, barren, bitted piece of green cheese. And for what? Well, you're kidding, Paul. You know the answer. We're space happy. That's all that's wrong with us. We pull every wire and practically tore the World Federation apart, getting this assignment on the moon, and we'll do it again when the first flight into deep space gets underway next month and next year, whenever they get through with their preparations. Yeah. Yeah, I guess that's it. But right now, Johnny, what I wouldn't give to see a tree again and corn fields in Kansas. Me, I want to hear a bird singing. And once the lights go on in the skyscrapers along the waterfront, I want to dance with my girl and breathe in the sweet smell of lilac. Boy, have I... Hey, what's that? Huh? That sound, that vibration. There. Do you hear it? Well, I'm not sure whether I heard it or felt it, Johnny. Like I turned a bear passing by me. Yeah, that's it. Some kind of pulsation. Makes me make skin tingling. Listen, it sounded different, didn't it? Yeah, a different pitch. The instruments are all steady. Nothing on the visit screen. The radar's negative. What is it, Johnny? Where's it from? It's not from Earth. I swear to that. I got a crazy notion, boy. A crazy notion that someone's trying to signal it. You mean... I don't know what I mean. Maybe McCabe's right. Maybe I got to touch him. Johnny. Johnny, what is it? Look, look, boss. Look at the direction finder. It swung all the way around. Those sounds, those waves are coming from outer space. I've got to call... Earth calling Luna City. Earth calling Luna City. Luna City to Earth. Go ahead, Earth. Go ahead, McCabe. What's going on up there? What's the idea of beaming out those hammy signals? Signals? Yeah, the harp effect. The music of the spear stuff. It's giving up poison. The monitor's down here. The heebie-teebies. You've got them too, McCabe. You picked them up on Earth? Certainly. What's it all about? The signals, if that's what they are, are coming from one definite spot in outer space. Outer space? That's what I said. Johnny, get your space suit ready. Better have a conference about it. But listen... Have your men tune up Rocket 307. Last off at 0800. We'll be expecting you on Earth in the morning. Ten days now we've been getting those signals, and not one of you geniuses has been able to decipher them. Hey, well, Mr. McCabe, if you know of anyone who can do it better, then you'd better... Take it easy, Professor Wolfson. You don't have to be so touchy. But ten days. What do you say, Dr. Lee? Ten days or ten years, it makes no difference. If those sounds or signals are code, it is in a language unknown to man. You're sure of that? We've consulted the foremost cryptographists of the world. We've tried every way to break the code. What does that add up to? That message, if it is a message, does not come from anywhere on Earth, or from any man on Earth. I told you, chief. It's what I've been saying all along. Of course you can't decode those messages in any known language, living or dead, because they come from Mars. Mars, I cannot be... Yes, Mars. My directional finder on the moon indicated that McCabe's down here, pinned it down. Look at the graph. I brought it. Directional signals can be wrong. Yes, sir, but get this. I have been timing those signals. They come at intervals of exactly 24 hours, 37 minutes, and 22 seconds. The length of the day on Mars? Yes. And if we were trying to signal them, we'd do it, say, every night at 1,800. That's what they're doing to us. In that case, the next signal is due at... 10 minutes and 13 seconds. And we'll be sitting here like lumbocks as feeling our scalps tingle while the message drifts past us. Gentlemen, excuse, please. But it seems to me the message need not necessarily drift past us. Why not? By the message, I do not mean the sounds or the words that are being transmitted. I refer to the thoughts themselves, the thoughts that perhaps are being transferred from the Martians to us. Thought transfer? That's telepathy. We have discarded that word, Mr. Tixon, too many charlatans use it. But we do know that there is extrasensory perception of thought impulses, just as there are sound waves which your ear has learned to interpret and light waves which your eye and brain transform into a picture. So there are thought waves, electrical impulses discharged by the brain which vary with the particular thought. An intriguing idea, Dr. Lee. If only we had some instrument that could pick up and sort out these impulses. There is such an instrument, Professor Wilson. What? I have been working on it for many years. It involves a scanning screen intercepting an electrified field. What are we waiting for? You understand. The telepathy has only been tested for short distances. The signals are reaching us. That's the only important thing, isn't it? The instrument is in the next room. I took the liberty of bringing it with me, hoping it might conceivably be of some use. This way, gentlemen. Say this little machine can take thoughts and turn them into words we can hear. English words? Not only English, Mr. McKeeb. It will translate thought impulses into any language for which you set the dials. You think of something, Mr. Dixon. Now, listen. First, I set for French. In fact, don't listen to what? German. What are you talking about? And English? Don't clever these Chinese. You must understand. Excuse me, Dr. Lee, but we'll have to postpone this 15 seconds to go. Better set your dials for remote pickup. Stand by, everyone. Nothing. More power. Well, it was a good try. Wait. I have got that feeling again. My skin's beginning to crawl. Yeah, yeah, mine too. Oh, no, it's just your imagination. Quiet. They are coming through now. Planet four, greeting planet three. This is Mars. The fourth planet from the sun, greeting planet three. Planet four, calling planet three. We are trying to reach you, planet three. If you receive our signal, respond. If you receive our signal, respond. We will communicate again. Life on Mars. This week, ladies and gentlemen, the question that has bedeviled mankind, ever since the day he first stood erect and gazed into the heavens has been answered. There is life on Mars. Intelligent, articulate life. The country, the world, tonight, sieves with excitement. Has Mars received our response? Has our telepathotor succeeded in projecting as thoughts the messages spoken into it by human beings? Or can it merely receive... I love lilacs, Terry. I'll never get enough of it. Oh, it's lovely, Johnny. And look, there's a moon out tonight. Moon? Oh, please. You know, it's hard to believe that back in 1950, people could still get romantic over that cold, dead, pockmark, heavenly yo-yo. Now, that red star up there. Mars. That's a different proposition. It's alive. There are living beings up there. Johnny, it's staggering. It's beyond imagination. Rubbish. Why shouldn't there be life up there? They're so advanced. Spaceships and interplanetary signals? Maybe you've got a point at that. We thought we were so smart because we reached the moon. Our spaceships aren't developed enough yet to get to Mars. It's just as well. Why? Because you'd want to be the first to go. Wouldn't you like that? I'd be quite a hero. You could point at my picture and say, hey, that's my guy. You're my guy anyway, Johnny. Sure, Terry. Don't worry, honey. I won't be seeing any Martians for a long time. Personnel, stand by. Stand by for XM signal. That'll be Mars. Hop to it, Johnny. Telepathotor setting, 212 degrees, 18 seconds. Frequency, 600,000. Got that, Johnny? Check. For calling Planet 3. Planet 4 calling Planet 3. We greet you in peace. Your response receives... We've got to go. ...the time has come. At this moment which marks the beginning of the great interstellar age between worlds, it is fitting that there be between us a meeting of minds. Therefore, we are sending a ship to visit your planet. No, it can't be. The ship will depart tonight and enter your magnetic field in seven of our days. Have landing instructions ready. We come in peace. We come in peace. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Matt Wilson bringing you a report of the emergency session of the Federated World Government. Never has an assembly meeting taken place in such an atmosphere of excitement, panic, and recrimination. And here on the floor of the assembly chamber... I say, keep out! We've enough... by the stunning message from Mars have been boiling and clashing all day. I rise for a point of information. As civilian head of the world military government, I want to know why those Martians have beaten us to the draw. Gentlemen, gentlemen, if the decision we are to make is to be a wise one, we must lay aside passions and fears and consider the question calmly. The Martians are coming and we must receive them either with friendship or hostility. Drive them off! Blast them out of the sky! That may not be as simple as it sounds. Remember, my friends, these Martians are advanced scientifically, perhaps far beyond us. They have conquered deep space. They can transmit thought waves. They may have weapons beside which our nuclear bombs are as toy pistols. Dr. Lee is right, gentlemen. We don't dare fight them off. The risk is too great. They come in peace. They've said so over and over again. Let us so receive them. Very well, very well. If such is the will of this body, let them come in peace. But as civilian head of the world military government, I assure you all, we will not be found napping. Earth calling Martian interstellar ship. Earth calling Martian interstellar ship. Here are the landing instructions of the Federated World Government. Three Earth days from this hour, which will be the sixth Martian day of your flight through space, you will be met by an escort of 20 rocket ships. We will greet you in the name of peace. The 20 rocket ships will escort you... Instructions to commission of defense. All escort rocket ships assigned to accompany Martian space ship will carry the following armaments. Death fog sprays, magnetic disintegrators, atomic missiles class B. All weapons shall be on the... And upon your entry into the Earth's atmosphere, you will circle our globe once and then make landing at our spaceport at Los Alamos, New Mexico, which will be ready to receive you. The spaceport of Los Alamos shall be mined to a depth of 50 feet with tritonium landmines. The field shall be encircled with radioactive flame throwers and a reserve force. From the landing field, you will be conducted to the seat of the World Government at Washington, D.C. where you will be received and housed in suitable accommodations. We will welcome you in peace. Check out. We will welcome you in peace. We hope. Suitable accommodations. Trust McCabe to hand me a crackpot assignment like this. Johnny, you're the big space man. You're supposed to know by instinct what suitable accommodation for Martian. Don't be silly, Terry. I haven't the slightest notion in the world what they look like except some crazy ideas I picked up from science fiction. I don't know why they're here. That's why we're here. The head of our anthropology section has more ideas than any science fiction writer you've ever read. Now, here we are. Ah, Terry, come in. Hello, Professor. This is Mr. Dixon, the young man I told you about. I know Mr. Dixon. Professor, I've got a problem. Yeah, Terry and I have discussed the problem. It is my theory that the Martians will, in most important respects, have the characteristics of the Earthman. Oh, what's the basis of your theory, Professor? It's very simple. The accomplishments of the Martians parallel our own. Only a being with opposable thumbs can fashion the intricate devices necessary for space ships. Only a being with a nervous system like our own could master communication. Only a creature with a brain like ours could dream of peace. Makes sense, Professor. That's one side of it, Johnny. A lot of other anthropologists think differently. Ah, yeah, that is so. They feel that the Martians living on a dry planet with little vegetation and very little water will be creatures that crawl on the ground like our insects enlarged a few thousand times. They may look like enormous ants with oversized antennae. I give up. With 48 hours left I can't prepare accommodations for every conceivable form of life. I just have to improvise after they get here. I just hope they don't get too sick when they first look at us. This is Matt Wilson again reporting from the space port at Los Alamos. A tremendous crowd is gathered here. We're awaiting the appearance of the spaceship from Mars which is being escorted by 20 rocket ships from the rendezvous near the moon. The report's all gone well so far. The Martians ship... One moment, please. Nobody about the announcement is going to be made to the people assembled. Your attention, please. The ship from Mars and its escorts will be seen any moment from the east. You heard that. Any moment. The ship from Mars and... What? There they are. They're coming in. Mars! The Martian ship is idling over the field now casting a huge shadow over the landscape. It's an awe-inspiring spectacle. The ship is tremendous. 18 to 20 stories in height. Several city blocks long and its large windows are fashioned of some kind of transparent... Civilian commander to special defense patrol. Man battle stations. Our technical experts are staring at the craft in open mouth wonder. Mr. McCabe, what is your reaction? I am dumbfounded. The ship doesn't seem to operate on a rocket principle. There's no belching fire. No clouds of smoke. I keep wondering what kind of fuel they use. What principles of propulsion? What metals? Thank you, sir. The ship is almost touching the ground now and the crowd is getting uneasy where they're falling back as though there was something. I see it now. He's missing about the Martian ship forming a 20-foot blanket of whatever it is. Commander defense patrol. Zero hour. Reorient all weapons. Remove safety controls. Stand by the fire. The secretary of the World Federation is going to speak. As your great ship settles on our surreal we salute you. The emissaries of space. We wait eagerly for your appearance. Now the blue mist is completely vanished. All eyes are on the ship waiting for the first Martian to appear. There is no sign of activity yet. Will you respond to our greetings, Martians? Will you make your presence known? Nothing, Storing. No gangplank lowered. No sign of life. Perhaps they were not prepared for atmospheric conditions here. Perhaps on the very brink of success death has struck within that awe-inspiring vessel. Wait. Wait, it looks at... Yes, it's moving. A tremendous section of the ship's prow is opening out in front. Like a gigantic tongue it thrusts forward and drops to Earth forming a great ramp from the ship to our soil. And now it's down and the surface of the ramp. The surface of the ramp is like nothing ever seen on this Earth. A shimmering, impalpable iridescence, unbelievably radiant and beautiful. The throng of spectators is silent. Motionless. Scarcely breathing. First, Martian emerge. And still, nothing. No one. No thing comes down the ramp. There is nothing but silence. Listen. That must be the Martian communication vibrations we were told about. Then men on the field are operating the receiving device. Earthmen, we ask that you send one representative to board our craft. We assure his safety. Gentlemen, gentlemen. There is no cause for alarm. I think there is. They want a hostage or a specimen to take back with them. There's no time for rambling. They're waiting for a decision. Mr. Secretary. Yes, Mr. Secretary. If it's all right with the committee, I'd like to go aboard. Technical information, sir. No. Quiet, Johnny. This is my dish, McCabe. I was slated for the space run to Mars, remember? You're not doing me out of this. Besides, you're too valuable to waste. Tell them I'm coming aboard. Men out Mars, we can fly with your request. Our representative is about to board your ship. Ready, Johnny Dixon. This is it. Look at the sun in the sky. Take a deep breath of the Earth's good air. You may never get another empty a meat. Whatever is waiting at the end of this long ramp. A ramp? It's pulling me forward like a conveyor belt. It's beginning to rise into the air. Get a move on, Johnny. Get in. Four solid walls. Follow the light, Earthman. The walls will not impede you. Collect your reorientation, changing the density of solid matter at will? We achieved that 10,000 cycles ago, Earthman. Where are you, man of Mars? This room is flooded with light, but I see no one. We are not ready to reveal ourselves. We are not ready to reveal ourselves. The people of Earth are waiting to see you. To welcome you. There is nothing to fear. We are not Dixon. You know my name? We know. That is why we are sad. Filled with revulsion. I don't understand. What do you mean? Through the dark spaceways we came to you in peace. You said to us, come in peace. But the escorts you sent to honor us were armed for destruction. The very ground on which we now rest seeds with radioactive potential. Wait. You've misunderstood. These weapons offer defense against you, not attack. Many cycles ago, we of Mars learned as you Earthmen will someday learn that wars are fought. Men are slaughtered. Civilizations wiped out by those who attack with weapons of defense. But our world is at peace now. Your peace is not peace. It is a thin cloak which covers the hates and fears and savagery of primitive beings. Observe Dixon. On this large visis screen we have for hours been viewing your people in many parts of your uh... watch. The senator. I warned you it was a trap. We'll never again see Dixon alive. I told you not to trust foreigners. Just give me the word and I'll blast them all into kingdom common. You must not be deceived. He's only one man. The rest of us are different. Look at this from another part of your civilized... You have been a traitor to our party. You've been guilty of bourgeois thinking. You have sold us out to the enemies of our people. You have paid a penalty. But first you will confess. Confess. Confess. That's a backward part of our planet. It's not fair to judge by them. Then more civilized area the country of your birth Dixon. Feel ourselves to you like this to these of your own kind. What will you think? What will you do when you see us strange as we are? Don't go. We know you may be different from us. But we can all meet in peace. Earth man peace must be achieved through toil and sacrifice of those few among you who understand its meaning. It may take many cycles but in the end the day will arrive. Then and then only we will return. Go back to your people man of earth and give them the message from Mars. Next week another exciting drama on 2000 plus the silent noise. In the year 2000 plus 20 an important man is murdered. How will the police of the future track down a killer? And what new methods of assault will the criminals of tomorrow use? Listen next week and you'll find out. 2000 plus is produced by Sherman H. Dreyer and Robert Winnolson. Lon Clark played McCabe Frank Barron was the senator Amsy Strickland was Terry Sanford Brickard was Paul and Gilbert Mack was Dr. Lee. The orchestra was conducted by Emerson Buckley music composed by Elliott Chakoby script by Judith and David Bublick sound by Walt Shaver and Al April engineer Bob Albrecht and your announcer Ken Marvin. This program was transcribed. This is the METUAL Broadcasting System.