Certainly, he had some disturbing news.
‘For many years, people believed Mars to be inhabited,’ he said. The quasi-scientific opinions of Percival Lovell, author of Mars as an Abode of Life, encouraged interest in the idea, which had been founded on the erroneous assumption that Mars was a more ancient planet than Earth. Improved astronomical equipment, and visits by probes, had swept all such speculation away. Finally, with manned landings, the point had been conceded. There was no life on Mars.
‘Millions of years earlier, some archebacteria developed. Conditions deteriorated. They died out. Since then, everyone believed, Mars had been destitute of life. Destitute for millions of years.’
Jimmy paused, to confront the seriousness of what he was about to say.
That is not the case. In fact, for millions of years there has been life on this planet. You will know of the white tongues which surround our laboratories. They are neither vegetable nor mineral. Nor are they independent objects. We have reason to believe they are the sensory perceptors of an enormous – animal? Being, let’s call it.
‘You will be aware of the M-gravitic anomaly associated with the Tharsis Shield. That anomaly is caused by a being so large it is visible even through terrestrial telescopes. We know it as Olympus Mons.
‘Olympus Mons is not a geological object. Olympus Mons is a sentient being of unique kind.’
Immediately chaos erupted in the hall. Shouts of ‘It can’t be!’ mingled with cries of ‘I told you so!’ When calm was restored, Jimmy resumed, smiling rather a guilty smile, pleased by the shock he had engendered.
‘My fellow scientists in this room will confirm what I say. This immense being, some seven hundred kilometres across, is a master of camouflage. Or else it’s a huge kind of barnacle. Its shell resembles the surrounding terrain, much as a chameleon takes on the colour of its background. Its time-sense must be very different from ours, since it has sat where it is now, without moving, for many centuries.
‘Under its protective shell is organic life.’
He gave a nervous laugh.
‘Terraforming would harm it. We are, ladies and gentlemen, sharing this planet with an amazingly large barnacle!’
The learned John Homer Bateson, leaning nearby against a pillar, hands in his robe, said, ‘An amazingly large barnacle! The mind is inclined to boggle somewhat. Well, well … Was it not Isocrates who called man the measure of all things? Such Ptolemaic thinking needs revision. Clearly it is this mollusc that is the measure of all things.’
Others present pressed forward with anxious questions.
Jimmy sought to give some reassurance.
‘We can only speculate as to where the being came from, or where it might be going. Is it friend or enemy? We can’t tell as yet.’
‘You mad scientists!’ Crispin Barcunda was heard to exclaim. ‘What might this thing do if disturbed – if, say, we had started the terraforming process, with attendant atmospheric and chthonic upheavals?’
Jimmy spread his hands. ‘Olympus has its exteroceptors trained on us. All we can say is that it has, as yet, made no hostile move.’
Even the special performance of Mine? Theirs?, revised once again by Paula Gallin, was ill attended after this disconcerting news.
Speculation concerning Olympus, as it became known, continued on all levels. Much discussion concerned whether it might be regarded as malevolent or benevolent. Did this strange being consider that it owned Mars, in which case it might well regard humans as parasitic intruders? Or was it merely some unexpected variety of celestial jellyfish, without intention?
More alarm was caused when Jimmy Dust and his fellow scientists revealed that they had secured as a specimen one of the white tongues – had, in fact, hacked it off. Its complex cellular organisation had convinced them that, whatever Olympus was, it enjoyed sensory perception. Some reassurance was afforded by the fact that it had not retaliated against this attack on its exteroceptors. But perhaps it was merely biding its time.
I did not at this juncture realise how unwell I was. However, I had sufficient energy to call Dreiser Hawkwood on the Ambient. I demanded to know why the news that Olympus Mons was a living entity had been released to us in such a casual manner, by Jimmy Dust, the marathon winner. I asked if some kind of dangerous joke was being played on us. I raved on. I even said it had been firmly established that there was no life on Mars.