The Angry Red Planet

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.

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.