[ WP ] We finally get men on Mars and they discover an old Soviet flag placed down decades ago . The Soviets won the space race but for whatever horrifying reason did n't say anything .

When human feet finally touched the surface of Mars, it was under the aegis of no government. De-centeralized social structures, growing rapidly under the influence of a de-centralized information network, had replaced government. It had turned out that cooperation only required adequate communication. 
 
 And, it had taken several hundred years. The old notions of country and nation, had blurred together. Humanity had endured a crisis. History had slept, and rolled off the bed, and sat up startled. We reached the red planet. 
 
 It had always been right in our reach. A group of intrepid explorers, united by the promise of freedom and reward, had made their way here. I was among them. It was I who discovered the hatch, buried in the red sand. I was out surveying with my partner, and within his puffy white suit, his shoulders immediately squared up. John was on the guard for threats. 
 
 I did not know Russian, but I knew what it looked like. C.C.C.P. was an unfamiliar moniker to me, but the writing style looked familiar. I had read history. It was something I meant to bring to Mars, not study while I was there. 
 
 `` This is obviously very old,'' I said. `` It could be up to eighty years.'' 
 
 `` I do n't want you playing with that,'' he said. `` We do n't know what's behind it.'' 
 
 He might have seemed patronizing, but I could tell he was just protecting me. People had put this thing here. Could they still be around? 
 
 Eventually, several other Dunists ( our enclave's name for itself ) had gathered to look at the mysterious hatch with us. Finally someone attempted to open it. 
 
 A loud hiss, a blast of steam drove us away. We staggered back, fearful our suits would be torn open. The thin air would n't kill us immediately, but it could be fatal. I stumbled into my partner's arms, and we retreated together. 
 
 When we returned to view the hatch a second time, blackness greeted us. Descending into the pit, with a hand-light, I led the way, John protectively watching my back, another partner-pair about thirty meters back. We were struck by the almost organic composition of the walls. This did n't look carved or blasted, it looked like something had burrowed it out. With teeth. 
 
 There were scattered square edges and shapes, pieces of equipment that belonged in our world, that looked out of place in this one. John stopped and gently brushed the dust aside. `` More Russian,'' I said. `` And no, I still can not read it.'' 
 
 The passage, dark and red like the surrounding rocks and sand, wound for three or four hundred meters until it opened into a large ampitheater. 
 
 And here, we found the gaping hole. You could look into the gaping hole. It was so, so very dark. 
 
 `` Shine the laser,'' John suggested. I had a small laser scanner, meant to return distances. The light did not brighten any of the surfaces, did not come back. The scanner saw no bottom. 
 
 `` It's rated for ten kilometers,'' I quipped. `` We should see a bottom, there's no way it can be that deep.'' 
 
 Moments later, there was a loud thud. The ground shook. Up the passageway, we saw the nameless couple who had joined us, their suits whirling in retreat. 
 
 It was then that the room lit up with pure energy. Light poured out of the opening in the floor. For long seconds, there seemed to be a great whistle of energy blasting through everything in the room. 
 
 And then, I saw stars. Quite briefly, in the hole in the ground. It seemed like they were very, very close. Like I was looking down into the sky. 
 
 Neither of us understood, but we knew that the Russians, whoever they had been, however they had gotten here, had somehow found this bizarre unnatural phenomenon. 
 
 And wherever they had gone, this was the point of departure. 
 
 `` So,'' I asked him. `` Do you think we could go through there, too?'' 
 
 

