“Do you think they’ve forgotten?” Jim Chambers whispered.
His sister Sally, who was almost eleven, shrugged and shook her red head. “They’ve never forgotten before, have they?”
“There’s always a first time,” Jim said gloomily. He was twelve, old enough to know that grownups sometimes forgot the most important things. But would they forget Surprise Day?
That was like forgetting Christmas. Still, here it was, eight o’clock, and soon it would be bedtime, and Surprise Day would be over—without any surprise. It was hard to believe they had forgotten.
Surprise Day was a private custom of the Chambers family. Dr. Roy Chambers, the father of Sally and Jim, had always felt it was a pity Christmas came only once a year, so he had set up a special day, exactly midway between one Christmas and the next, for the giving of gifts.
Surprise day fell on the twenty-fifth of June.
And that was what today was: the twenty-fifth of June, 2017. But the whole day had gone by, and now it was long after dinner, and still no surprises had appeared. Jim and Sally had their gifts all ready. Jim had bought a pair of magnetic cuff links for his father and a collapsing purse-sized umbrella for his mother. Sally’s gifts were a new billfold for Dr. Chambers and, for her mother, a bottle of imported perfume to replace a bottle that had accidentally been spilled. For weeks, Jim and Sally had gone snooping around the house to find out what gifts would be most appreciated.
But the family custom said that Jim and Sally could not give their gifts until last. Also, it was against the rules to remind anyone that it was Surprise Day. It had to be a complete surprise all around.
“Maybe we ought to hint?” Sally suggested.
Jim wrinkled up his face. “Don’t be silly. That’s against the rules.”
“It’s against the rules for them to forget, you know.”
“The day isn’t over yet,” Jim said. “Let’s not talk about it any more.” He walked over to the video set and turned it on. The Chambers family had one of the new video sets that gave the picture in three dimensions. The screen showed a girl playing an electronic piano and singing.
As her voice filled the room Chipper, the family cat, woke up and padded out of his corner to sit down in front of the set. Chipper was a big black-and-white tomcat that spent most of his time snoozing, but woke up every time the video was turned on. Jim insisted that Chipper could understand the programs, but nobody else would believe that.
A moment later Dr. Chambers walked into the room. He was a very tall man, and Jim had inherited his lean body, easy smile, and dark brown hair. Sally’s red hair came entirely from her mother.
Dr. Chambers was not smiling now. He looked very solemn, in fact. He glanced at the video set and said, “I hope you two are finished with your homework. You know the rules around here.”
“Don’t you remember, Dad?” Jim said. “The term is over in two days. We don’t have any homework to do!”
Dr. Chambers nodded. His mind seemed to be millions of miles away. “Uh-huh. I guess I forgot about that.”
“That isn’t all he’s forgotten,” Sally murmured, just loud enough for Jim to hear.
Jim nudged her in the ribs. “You’re not supposed to talk about it!”
Jim and Sally turned their attention to the screen. The singing had ended and the commentator was covering the day’s news.
Congress votes… Debate at the United Nations… video star returns from visit to Mars Colony… weather bureau prevents heat wave…
They found their minds kept wandering away from the newscast. Jim and Sally told themselves over and over again that it wasn’t so. Surprise Day couldn’t have been forgotten, couldn’t!
When the newscast was over, Dr. Chambers said quietly, “Would you mind turning the set off? Your mother and I want to talk to you.”
Sally reached forward and switched the video off. Disappointed, Chipped ambled back to his corner and curled up to go to sleep.
Their mother entered the room, taking a seat next to Dr. Chambers. Both of them looked very, very serious. Sally and Jim leaned forward, wondering what was going to happen. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good news.
Dr. Chambers said, “I waited until after dinner to tell you this, kids. I’m going to have to go away for quite a long time.”
“Go away, Dad?” Jim asked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I have to leave here and travel a great distance, and I won’t be coming back home for at least a year.”
Jim and Sally exchanged puzzled glances. Was it something bad? An operation, maybe? Or just a teaching appointment? Their father was a professor of biology at Columbia University. Maybe he had lost his job and had to go far away to teach. Whatever it was, it was probably serious.
Otherwise they wouldn’t both look so grim. Otherwise they wouldn’t have forgotten Surprise Day.
“Is it—something you can tell us about, Dad?” Sally asked.
“What do you say, Ethel?” Dr. Chambers said to his wife. “Do you think we can tell them?”
Mrs Chambers shrugged. “You’ll have to tell them sooner or later, Roy,” she said with a somber voice. “You might as well get it over with now.”
Jim moistened his lips. “Tell us, Dad. We’re old enough to take bad news.”
For the first time, the shadow of a smile appeared on Dr. Chambers’ face. “All right, I suppose I ought to tell you. You know the research I’ve been carrying on, don’t you? I’ve been making biological studies of Mars. I’ve been examining the reports sent back by the colonists up there, and I’ve been trying to draw some conclusions. Well, I won’t be using secondhand information any more. I’m being sent to Mars for a year to carry out some research up there.”
There was a long silence in the Chambers’ living room, broken only by the loud sleepy purring of Chipper. The Jim said, “You’re going to Mars, Dad? Why—that’s swell, I guess.”
“A whole year?” Sally asked. “We’ll miss you!”
“But you’ll send us letters,” Jim put in. “With Mars Colony stamps on them.”
“And a year isn’t really so long, after all,” Sally added. “It isn’t forever, anyway—”
“Whoa! Hold it! Slow down!” Dr. Chambers cried. He was grinning, now. “Whatever gives you the idea that I’m going to Mars all alone?”
Jim gasped. “But—you looked so serious.”
“We thought—” Sally blurted.
“I know what you thought,” their father said, chuckling. “I wanted you to think I was going by myself. That way this qualifies as a genuine surprise. You see, we’re all going to Mars for a year—both of you, Mother, and me. The government gave me a family-sized research grant.
We’ll be leaving next week.”
Jim and Sally turned to look at each other. Jim saw that his sister’s face was wide-eyed with amazement, and knew that he probably looked just as astonished. Of all the possible surprises there might have been, this was the most flabbergasting. A year on Mars!
It was one of those things too fantastic to even waste time daydreaming about. It cost a great deal of money to go to Mars. The journey would take three weeks by the fastest spaceship. There was a city up there, founded in 1991—a city of three thousand people living under an enormous plastic dome. When you went out of the dome, you had to wear a breathing suit because the air on Mars was too thin for human beings to breathe. Jim and Sally knew all about Mars; they had studied it in geography class, of course. But actually to go there—
“And we thought you had forgotten,” Jim said. “Because it was past eight o’clock and you hadn’t said anything about Surprise Day.”
“We were saving it,” Mrs. Chambers explained. “It was such a big surprise we wanted to hold it off until nighttime”
“It’s the only surprise we have, too,” Dr. Chambers added. “It’ll have to do—from both of us to both of you.”
“Have to do?” Jim echoed. “Why, it’s worth five years of surprises!”
“Now we’re forgetting,” Sally reminded him quietly.
“Oh—gosh, yes. Excuse us a second,” Jim said.
He and Sally scampered upstairs, took their gifts from hiding places, and ran downstairs.
Things like billfolds and cuff links and umbrellas and perfume were not in the same class with trips to Mars, but they were surprises all the same.
There was a flurry of unpacking and examining, and thanking. Everyone laughed when the collapsible umbrella was unpacked. “Here’s one thing I won’t be taking with me,” Mrs.
Chambers said.
“I guess you won’t, Mom,” Jim admitted. It hasn’t rained on Mars for thousands of years, and it isn’t likely to start now. But how was I supposed to know?”
“You weren’t,” his father said. “But the umbrella will come in handy when we come back to Earth. We aren’t going to be on Mars forever, you know.”
“Only a year,” Sally said wistfully. “That isn’t much time at all.”
“It is if it’s a Martian year,” Jim explained. “A Martian year is six hundred and eighty-seven Earth days long!”
“So it is,” Dr. Chambers agreed. “But I’m afraid my grant specifies one old-fashioned Earth year, three hundred and sixty-five years of twenty-four hour days.”
“What are we going to do about school?” Sally asked.
“It’s all arranged,” Mrs. Chambers said. “You’ll be going to classes every day at the Mars Colony school. You won’t miss any time at all. And when you come back to Earth you’ll go right into the grade you’re supposed to be in.”
A sudden thought occurred to Jim as the cat stirred in his corner and began washing his paws.
“Dad—does this grant of yours include cats?”
“I’m afraid not, son,” Dr. Chambers said, his smile disappearing. “We’ll have to leave Chipper behind. Maybe the Robinsons will agree to take care of him while we’re gone.”
“But a cat doesn’t take up much room,” Sally protested.
“That spoiled cat of yours weighs fourteen pounds, Sally. You’d shudder if you knew how much it costs to ship fourteen pounds of cute but useless cat all the way to Mars. And when he’s there, he’ll have to eat, breathe, and drink, won’t he? The Martian Colonists manufacture their own food, air, and water. These are very precious, and they aren’t going to like the idea of sharing them with Chipper, no matter how important he may be to you.”
Jim scratched the cat behind the ears. This attention usually produced a purr, but now resulted only in a cold stare. “See? He’s unhappy already. He knows what we’re talking about, Dad.”
“It wouldn’t matter even if he could read and write, too, Jim. He’ll have to stay behind.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Jim admitted. He stroked the tom’s silken fur. “So long, old fellow.
We’ll be back in a year. I guess we’ll miss you as much as you miss us, but it can’t be helped, Chipper.”
“Mrreow!”
“You know where we’re going, Chipper? We’re going to Mars. Do you know where that is?”
“Miuaouurk!”
“Come on,” Jim said. “I’ll give you a look at Mars.” Scooping the cat up, Jim walked through the front hall and stepped out on the front porch. He was aware that Sally and his parents were coming, too.
Jim searched the skies for a moment, until he found what he wanted, high in the star-dotted blackness. Mars stood out clearly, a gleaming, brick-red ball. Jim pointed to it. “See that up there, Chipper? That red-dish thing? That’s Mars. Mars! And we’re going to be there soon—all of us except you.”
“Mmnmeerk,” the cat said sadly.
Jim let the cat down. “Sorry, Chipper. There rules are the rules.”
The Chamberses went back inside. It was still hard to believe. “Gee, Dad,” Jim said, “this is the biggest surprise there could have been. Imagine—we’re going to Mars!”