Welcome Martians by Evan Hunter - Only one question seemed important in this huge space venture: Who was flying where?

The only sound was the swish of the jets against the sand as the big ship came down. Slowly, nose pointed skyward, a yellow tail streaming out behind the tubes, it settled to the ground like a cat nuzzling its haunches against a velvet pillow.

Dave Langley peered through the viewport.

"I feel kind of funny," he said.

A tremor of excitement flooded through Cal Manners' thin frame. "Mars," he whispered. "We made it."

Gently, the fins probed the sand, poking into it. Cal cut the power and the big ship shuddered and relaxed, a huge metal spider with a conical head.

Cal peered through the viewport, his eyes scanning the planet. Behind him, Dave shrugged into a space suit, gathered up his instruments.

"I'll make the tests," Dave said. "Keep the starboard guns trained on me."

Cal nodded. He walked Dave to the airlock and lifted the toggles on the inner hatch. Dave stepped into the small chamber, and Cal snapped the hatch shut.

He walked quickly to the starboard guns, wiggled into the plastic seat behind them and pitched his shoulders against the braces. Outside, like a grotesque balloon, Dave stumbled around on weighted feet, taking his readings.

What's out there? Cal wondered. Just exactly what?

He tightened his grip on the big blasters, and trained the guns around to where Dave puttered in the sand. Dave suddenly stood erect, waved at Cal, and started lumbering back toward the ship. Cal left the guns and went to the airlock. He stepped into the chamber closed the toggles on the hatch behind him, and twirled the wheel on the outer hatch. He was ready to move back into the ship again when Dave stepped through the outer hatch, his helmet under his arm.