Here were the fruits of such prodigious industry. Lined up, in one rank after another, were the projectiles. Each one was identical to the next, as if each had been turned on the same lathe by the same craftsman. Each one was machined and polished to a gleaming, golden shine; there were no extrusions to mar the cleanness of the line. Each one was nearly three hundred feet in length; sharply pointed at the nose, curving up so that the craft had a cylindrical body for most of its length, and its rear was circular, revealing the huge diameter. I had stood amazed at the size of the craft fired by the monsters of Desolation City, but they were mere playthings compared to these. I could hardly credit what I saw, but as I walked past the nearest of the projectiles I realized that it must have an overall diameter of around ninety feet!
My guides walked on unconcerned, and after a moment I followed them, craning my neck and marvelling.
I tried to estimate how many projectiles there were, but the area on which they were laid was so vast that I was not even sure I could see all the craft. Perhaps each rank had upwards of a hundred such waiting projectiles, and I passed through eight ranks of them.
Then, as we emerged from between the projectiles in the front rank, I was confronted with the most astonishing sight of all.
Here it was that the ascending slope of the volcano became pronounced, rising before us. Here it was that the monster-creatures of this hateful city had laid their snow-cannons.
There were five in all. Four of them were of the same order as the one at Desolation City, but there was no complication here with pivotal buildings and a lake to absorb the heat, for the barrels of the cannon were laid along the slope of the mountain itself! Nor was there any need for the elaborate process of inserting the projectile through the muzzle, for by a cunning arrangement of railway lines, and a stout entrance at the breech of the barrel, the projectiles could be loaded here.
But my attention was not drawn towards these pieces of ordnance, for, mighty as they were, their presence was over-shadowed by the fifth snow-cannon.
Whereas the lesser snow-cannons had barrels a mile or so long, with bores of about twenty feet, this central cannon had a barrel with an external diameter well in excess of one hundred feet. As for its length…well, it extended further than the eye could see, running straight and true up the side of the mountain, sometimes resting on the soil, sometimes carried by huge viaducts where the slope was less pronounced, sometimes running through canyons blasted from the rock itself. At its base, the very breech was like a metal mountain of its own: a great, bulbous piece of black armour, thick enough and mighty enough to support the ferocious blast of the vaporizing ice which powered the projectiles. It loomed over everything, a stark reminder of the terrible skills and sciences these accursed monster-creatures commanded.
It was with this cannon, and with these hundreds of gleaming projectiles, that the monster-creatures plotted their invasion of Earth!
ii
A projectile had been placed already in the breech, and my guides led me up a metal companionway that attached to the bulk of the cannon like a flying buttress against the wall of a cathedral. From its dizzying height I looked down across the massed machines of the monsters, and beyond them, across the dividing strip of land to the near-by city.
The companionway ended at one of the access-points to the barrel itself, and we entered through a narrow tunnel. At once the temperature fell sharply. Interpreting for one of the men, Edwina explained that the barrel was already lined with ice, and that its entire length could be relined and frozen in just over half a day.
The tunnel led directly to a hatch into the craft itself. I suppose I had been expecting a larger version of the projectile in which I had already flown, but this was so only in its overall design.
We stepped out of the hatch into the forward control-area, and from here explored the entire craft.
As with the smaller projectiles, this one was divided into three main areas: the control section, a hold in which the slaves would be carried and the main hold in which the monsters and their terrible battle-machines were to ride. These last two compartments were linked by one of the blood-letting devices. That at least was no different, but one of the men explained that during the flight the monsters would be sedated with a sleeping-draught, and that their food requirements would be minimal.
I had no desire to dwell on this aspect of the monsters arrangements, and so we passed on into the main hold itself.
Here I saw the full scale of the monsters’ arsenal. Five of the tripodal battle-machines were stored here, their legs detached and neatly folded, the platforms collapsed to occupy as little space as possible. Also aboard were several of the small, legged vehicles, a score or more of the heat-cannons, and innumerable quantities of different substances, packaged away in dozens of huge containers. Neither I nor my guides could hazard a guess as to what these might be.
At various parts of the hold hung the tubes of transparent material which absorbed the shocks of launch and landing.
We did not stay long in this hold, but I saw enough to realize that what was here was in itself reason enough to fly to Earth. What a prize this would be for our scientists!
The control-area, in the prow of the ship, was a huge room with the overall shape of the pointed nose of the craft. The projectile had been set in the barrel in such a way that the controls were on what was presently the floor, but it was explained to me that in flight the craft would be rotated so as to produce weight. (This was a concept lost on me, and I decided that Edwina’s translation was inadequate.) After the cramped quarters of the other projectile the control-area was palatial indeed, and the builders had gone to some pains to make the drivers comfortable. There was much dried food available, a tiny commode, and in one part of the wall was a shower-system, rather like the one we had used at the slave-camp. The siting of this, and the hammocks on which we would sleep, was rather puzzling, for they had been hung from the ceiling, some eighty feet above our heads.
I was told that in flight we would have no difficulty reaching them, although this was clearly something I would have to take on trust.
The controls themselves were many, and when I saw them, and thought about the bulk of the craft they directed, it was daunting to recall that until this day the most elaborate vehicle I had ever driven was a pony and trap!
The men explained everything in great detail, but I grasped little of what was said. In this, I felt Edwina’s interpretations were unreliable, and even when I was confident she was conveying the meaning of their words accurately, I had difficulty with the concept described.
For example, I was shown a large glass panel—which was currently blank—and told that in flight there would be displayed upon it a picture of what was directly in front of the ship. This I could grasp, as it seemed to be common with the smaller projectile. However, there was a subtle refinement here. I was told repeatedly of a ‘target’, and this was talked of in conjunction with a series of metal knobs protruding from a place below the screen. Furthermore, I was told that target was applied when using the green-tipped lever which, I already knew from my earlier flight, released a blast of green fire from the nose.
I decided that much of what puzzled me now would become clear by experimentation in flight.
The explanations went on until my mind was spinning. At last I had a broad idea of what was to happen—the actual firing of the cannon, for instance, would be controlled from a building outside the ship—and further, I knew roughly how much I could manoeuvre the craft while in flight.
My guides told me that the monsters were not planning their first launch for another four days. We should therefore have plenty of time to make our escape before the monsters were ready.
I said that I would be happy to leave as soon as possible, for now the means was open to us I had no desire to stay on Mars a moment longer than necessary.
iii
Amelia and I passed that night in one of the city dormitories. It had again been diff
icult for us to say much to each other, for Edwina was always in attendance, but when at last we took to a hammock we were able to talk quietly.
We lay in each other’s arms; this was the one burden of our legendary rôles that I found easiest to fulfil.
“Have you inspected the craft?” Amelia said.
“Yes. I think there will be no problem. The area is crowded with monsters, but they are all occupied with their preparations.”
I told her what I had seen: the number of projectiles ready to be fired at Earth, the arrangements within the craft.
“Then how many of the creatures are planning to invade?” Amelia said.
“The projectile we will be going in carries five of the brutes. I could not count the other projectiles…certainly there were several hundred.”
Amelia lay in silence for a while, but then she said: “I wonder, Edward…if the revolution is now necessary. If this is to be the scale of the migration, then how many monsters will be left on Mars? Could the plan be for a total exodus?”
“That had crossed my mind too.”
“I saw this as a moment of unpreparedness, but how ironical it would be if in a few days’ time there would be no monsters left to overthrow!”
“And the adversary would be on Earth,” I said. “Do you not see how urgent it is that we fly to Earth before the monsters?”
A little later, Amelia said: “The revolution is to start tomorrow.”
“Could the Martians not wait?”
“No…the firing of our craft is to be the signal for action.”
“But could we not deter them? If they would only wait…”
“You have not seen all their preparations, Edward. The excitement of the people is irrepressible. I have lit a gunpowder trail, and the explosion is no more than a few hours away.”
We said no more after this, but I for one could hardly sleep. I was wondering if this was indeed to be our last night on this unhappy world, or whether we should ever be free of it.
iv
We had gone to bed in a mood of worried calm, but when we awoke it was to a very different situation.
What awakened us was a sound which sent chills of fear down my spine: the howling of the monsters’ sirens, and the reverberations of distant explosions. My first thought, prompted by experience, was that there had been another invasion, but then, as we jumped from the hammock and saw that the dormitory was deserted, we realized that the fighting must be between opposing forces within the city. The Martians had not waited!
A battle-machine strode past the building, and we felt the walls tremble with the vibration of its passage.
Edwina, who until this moment had been hiding beside the door, rushed over to us when she saw we were awake.
“Where are the others?” Amelia said immediately.
“They went in the night.”
“Why were we not told?”
“They said you were now only wanting to fly in the machine.”
“Who started this?” I said, indicating the bedlam beyond the building.
“It began in the night, when the others left.”
And we had slept through this noise and confusion? It seemed hardly likely. I went to the door and peered into the street. The battle-machine had gone its way, and its armoured platform could be seen above some near-by buildings. Some distance from me I could see a column of black smoke rising, and over to my left there was a smaller fire. In the distance there was another explosion, although I could not see any smoke, and in a moment I heard two battle-machines braying in response.
I went back to Amelia.
“We had better get to the cannon-site,” I said. “It might still be possible to take the projectile.”
She nodded, and went to where our erstwhile friends had laid out two of the black uniforms for us. When we had put these on, and were preparing to leave, Edwina looked at us uncertainly.
“Are you coming with us?” I said, brusquely. I had been growing tired of her fluting voice and the unreliability of her translations. I wondered how much of our information had been misrepresented by her.
She said: “You would like me to come, Amelia?”
Now Amelia looked doubtful, and said to me: “What do, you think?”
“Will we need her?”
“Only if we have something to say.”
I considered for a few seconds. Much as I distrusted her, she was our only contact with the people here, and she had at least stayed behind when the others left.
I said: “She can come with us as far as the cannon-site.”
With that, and pausing only to collect Amelia’s hand-bag, we set off at, once.
As we hurried across the city it became obvious that although the Martians had started their revolution, damage was as yet minor, and confined to a few areas. The streets were not empty of people, nor yet were they crowded. Several Martians gathered together in small groups, watched over by the battle-machines, and in the distance we heard many sirens. Somewhere near the centre of the city we came across evidence of more direct revolt: several of the battle-machines had been somehow overturned, and lay helplessly across the streets; these provided effective barricades, for once set on its side a tower could not by itself stand up again, and so blocked the passage of the ground vehicles.
When we came to the place where the electrical force-screen was extended towards the cannon-site, we found that the monsters and their machines were much in evidence. Several ground vehicles, and five battle-machines, stood thickly together, their heat-cannons raised.
We paused at this sight, not sure whether to go on. There were no Martian humans to be seen, although we noticed that several charred bodies had been swept roughly into a heap at the base of one of the buildings. Clearly there had been fighting here, and the monsters retained their supremacy. To approach now would bring almost certain death.
Standing there, undecided, I sensed the urgency of reaching the projectile before the trouble worsened.
“We had better wait,” Amelia said.
“I think we should go on,” I said quietly. “We will not be stopped wearing these uniforms.”
“What about Edwina?”
“She will have to stay here.”
However, in spite of my apparent resolution I was not confident. As we watched, one of the battle-machines moved off to the side, its heat-cannon pivoting menacingly. With its dangling metal arms it reached into one of the near-by buildings, apparently feeling for anyone hiding within. After a few moments it moved off again, this time striding at a faster pace.
Then Amelia said: “Over there, Edward!”
A Martian was signalling to us from one of the other buildings, waving his long arms. Casting a watchful glance at the machines, we hurried over to him and at once he and Edwina exchanged several words. I recognized him as one of the men we had met the day before.
Eventually, Edwina said: “He says that only drivers of the flying war-machines can go further. The two who showed you yesterday are waiting for you.”
Something about the way she said this aroused a faint suspicion, but for want of further evidence I could not say why.
“Are you to come with us?” said Amelia.
“No I stay to fight.”
“Then where are the others?” I said.
“At the flying war-machine.”
I took Amelia to one side. “What shall we do?”
“We must go on. If the revolution causes any more trouble, we might not be able to leave.”
“How do we know we are not walking into a trap?” I said.
“But who would lay it? If we cannot trust the people, then we are lost.”
“That is precisely my worry,” I said.
The man who had signalled to us had already disappeared into the building, and Edwina seemed to be on the point of running in after him. I looked over my shoulder at the monsters’ machines, but there appeared to have been no movement.
Amelia said “Good-bye, Edwina.”
“Good-bye, Amelia,” she said, then turned her back and walked through the doorway.
“That was a cool farewell,” I said. “Considering you are the leader of the revolution.”
“I don’t understand, Edward.”
“Neither do I. I think we must get to the projectile without further delay.”
v
We approached the battle-machines with considerable trepidation, fearing the worst with every step. But we went unmolested, and soon we had passed beneath the high platforms and were walking up the extension towards the cannon-site.
A deep mistrust of the situation was growing in me, and I was dreading the fact that soon we should have to pass beneath the scrutiny of the monsters who guarded the entrance. My feeling of unease was increased when, a few minutes later, we heard more explosions from the city, and saw several of the battle-machines dashing about the streets with their cannons flaring.
“I wonder,” I said, “if our part in the revolt is now suspected. Your young friend was remarkably reluctant to be with us.”
“She does not have one of these uniforms.”
“That’s true,” I said, but I was still not at ease.
The entrance to the cannon-site was nearly upon us, and the great sheds were looming up.
At the last moment, when we were no more than five yards from the monsters’ observation-seats, we saw one of the two young Martians I’d been with the previous day. We went directly to him. There was an empty vehicle by the roadway, and we went around the back of it with him.
Once away from the sight of the monster-creatures at the gate, he launched into a most expressive foray of sibilance and expository gestures.
“What’s he saying?” I said to Amelia.
“I haven’t the faintest notion.”
We waited until he had finished, and then he stared at us as if awaiting a response. He was about to start his tirade again, when Amelia indicated the cannon-site.
The Space Machine Page 24