“I wish to add here,” said a government official, “that during recent years there have been several balloon disappearances, more than can be statistically explained. And the disappearances are mostly balloons which for special reasons were built to go very high. For that reason they were also especially large, which makes their disappearance all the more mysterious. Of course, there are oceans and jungle and the icy North which may hide the remains.”
“Now,” said one of the electrical experts, “does the discoverer of the message have any idea whether, and how, the things we have just heard jibe with the message he received?”
Justus rose slowly and spoke slowly, organizing his thoughts while he replied:
“My hypothesis was that the message originated with intelligent beings outside the Earth. Certainly nothing we have heard speaks against my hypothesis. Obviously, the inhabitants of some other planet, of higher technological development than our own, have found means to conquer the space separating them from the ‘one-mooners.’ Flying through our atmosphere at very high levels, they captured one or several balloons and the people in the gondolas. Since these happened to be Germans, the aliens learned the German language. And any one of those captured may have known Morse code; they were all people who were likely to know it. That piece of metal found at Ylinde is probably a piece of wreckage of one of the ‘black airships’; there may have been a collision or another mishap.”
“Yes,” somebody interrupted, “but all this sounds rather belligerent. Your message, Mr. Starck, is a well-meaning warning. How does that work out?”
“The one difficulty,” Justus continued, “is that most of what we have heard seems to point to a warlike intent, while the message looks like a friendly intent. The one makes the other sound inexplicable. But couldn’t there be a parallel to political conditions on Earth? I believe that a planet is unlikely to adopt a policy of expansion until it has to—provided, of course, that it can. And there may be some who can’t await the day of conquest, some who are hesitant, and some who are simply opposed. The first group, presumably in the majority, built the black ships. One of the last group sent the warning.”
“But then why the nonsense of anagrams?”
“This is what makes me think that it was a member of the opposition party. If one of our captured men had had an occasion to send a message, he would not have coded anything; he would have been in a hurry. He also would have used different words. If somebody opposed to an expansion policy sent the message, he probably would have had time but also would have had to stay under cover. He has to count on the message being received on his own planet. By using both an Earth language and a not too difficult (for us) coding system, he will at least ensure himself time before he is detected.”
There was a time of quiet in the conference room. Everyone was busy with his own thoughts. But when the Secretary asked for opinions, most of those present were cautiously against Justus and against any protective measures; only the old astronomer and the young meteorologist were definitely on his side. Justus could not tell about the Secretary. But as he glanced in his direction, he saw the pen of his set moving. He raised the catch of the clockwork mechanism and guided the tape into his hand, while the others crowded around the table. Looking at the dots and dashes he suddenly said: “Gentlemen, this is not code, this is clear and understandable German. Let me read it to you . . .
“ ‘. . . danger to the inhabitants of Earth. I am Dr. Valens of the Meteorological Institute in Berlin and I was kidnaped out of the gondola of a balloon three years ago. For three years I have waited for a chance to warn my country and all on Earth. My kidnapers are masters of the natural forces and lords of interplanetary space. It is night here and I got into a transmitting station, hoping that my words will reach Earth and be understood by somebody. Watch your skies, protect yourselves. They have airships which . . . I am discovered, mankind beware of the inhabitants of . . .’ ”
The clockwork continued to pull the tape out of the set. But no more signs appeared on it.
“Gentlemen,” the Secretary said after a long pause, “we have just become distant witnesses of a sacrifice for humanity on an unknown planet by one of us. He probably had to pay with his life for it but achieved what he tried to achieve: a warning to us.”
The same night a long coded wire was addressed to all embassies and legations, for immediate transmittal to their respective governments.
Before leaving, Justus had been told that his new set would be bought by the government. And he had left the building with one of the directors of his firm, Gabriele’s father. He had been invited to come to his house . . .
* * *
Footnote:
1 Actually the height of 82,000 feet had been reached in 1907 only by unmanned balloons, carrying recording instruments. The altitude record for manned aircraft, which came close to this figure, was established on November 11, 1935, by the stratosphere balloon Explorer 11, with 72,394 feet. This record has recently been beaten by the research rocket airplane, which, on August 15, 1951, climbed to about 80,000 feet. If the pilot had kept the Skyrocket on a steeper ascent path it would easily have gone beyond 90,000 feet. —W.L.
INVASION FROM MARS
Howard Koch
The radio-script version of H.G. Wells’s famous novel, The War of the Worlds, freely adapted by Howard Koch and presented by Orson Welles and his Mercury Theatre on the Air over the Columbia Broadcasting System, October 30, 1938.
I
NARRATOR: We know now that in the early years of the twentieth century this world was being watched closely by intelligences greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own. We know now that as human beings busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinized and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinize the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacence people went to and fro over the Earth about their little affairs, serene in the assurance of their dominion over this small, spinning fragment of solar driftwood which by chance or design man has inherited out of the dark mystery of Time and Space. Yet across an immense ethereal gulf, minds that are to our minds as ours are to the beasts in the jungle, intellects vast, cool, and unsympathetic, regarded this Earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. In the thirty-ninth year of the twentieth century came the great disillusionment.
It was near the end of October. Business was better. The war scare was over. More men were back at work. Sales were picking up. On this particular evening, October 30, the Crossley service estimated that thirty-two million people were listening in on radios.
ANNOUNCER CUE: . . . for the next twenty-four hours not much change in temperature. A slight atmospheric disturbance of undetermined origin is reported over Nova Scotia, causing a low-pressure area to move down rather rapidly over the northeastern states, bringing a forecast of rain, accompanied by winds of light gale force. Maximum temperature 66; minimum 48. This weather report comes to you from the Government Weather Bureau.
ANNOUNCER TWO: We now take you to the Meridian Room in the Hotel Park Plaza in downtown New York, where you will be entertained by the music of Ramon Raquello and his orchestra.
(Spanish theme song . . . Fades)
ANNOUNCER THREE: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. From the Meridian Room in the Park Plaza in New York City, we bring you the music of Ramon Raquello and his orchestra. With a touch of the Spanish, Ramon Raquello leads off with “La Cumparsita.”
(Piece starts playing)
ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our program of dance music to bring you a special bulletin from the Intercontinental Radio News. At twenty minutes before eight, central time, Professor Farrell of the Mount Jennings Observatory, Chicago, Illinois, reports observing several explosions of incandescent gas, occurring at regular intervals on the planet Mars.
The spectroscope indicates the gas to be hydrogen and moving toward the earth with eno
rmous velocity. Professor Pierson of the observatory at Princeton confirms Farrell’s observation, and describes the phenomenon as (quote) like a jet of blue flame shot from a gun (unquote). We now return you to the music of Ramon Raquello, playing for you in the Meridian Room of the Park Plaza Hotel, situated in downtown New York.
(Music plays for a few moments until piece ends . . . Sound of applause)
Now a tune that never loses favor, the ever popular “Star Dust.” Ramon Raquello and his orchestra . . .
(Music)
ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, following on the news given in our bulletin a moment ago, the Government Meteorological Bureau has requested the large observatories of the country to keep an astronomical watch on any other disturbances occurring on the planet Mars. Due to the unusual nature of this occurrence, we have arranged an interview with the noted astronomer, Professor Pierson, who will give us his views on this event. In a few moments we will take you to the Princeton Observatory at Princeton, New Jersey. We return you until then to the music of Ramon Raquello and his orchestra.
(Music)
ANNOUNCER TWO: We are ready now to take you to the Princeton Observatory at Princeton, where Carl PHILLIPS, our commentator, will interview Professor Richard Pierson, famous astronomer. We take you now to Princeton, New Jersey.
(Echo chamber)
PHILLIPS: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Carl Phillips, speaking to you from the observatory at Princeton. I am standing in a large semicircular room, pitch-black except for an oblong split in the ceiling. Through this opening I can see a sprinkling of stars that cast a kind of frosty glow over the intricate mechanism of the huge telescope. The ticking sound you hear is the vibration of the clockwork. Professor Pierson stands directly above me on a small platform, peering through the giant lens. I ask you to be patient, ladies and gentlemen, during any delay that may arise during our interview. Besides his ceaseless watch of the heavens, Professor Pierson may be interrupted by telephone or other communications. During this period he is in constant touch with the astronomical centers of the world—Professor, may I begin our questions?
PIERSON: At any time, Mr. Phillips.
PHILLIPS: Professor, would you please tell our radio audience exactly what you see as you observe the planet Mars through your telescope?
PIERSON: Nothing unusual at the moment, Mr. Phillips. A red disk swimming in a blue sea. Transverse stripes across the disk. Quite distinct now because Mars happens to be at the point nearest the earth—in opposition, as we call it.
PHILLIPS: In your opinion, what do these transverse stripes signify, Professor Pierson?
PIERSON: Not canals, I can assure you, Mr. Phillips, although that’s the popular conjecture of those who imagine Mars to be inhabited. From a scientific viewpoint the stripes are merely the result of atmospheric conditions peculiar to the planet.
PHILLIPS: Then you’re quite convinced as a scientist that living intelligence as we know it does not exist on Mars?
PIERSON: I should say the chances against it are a thousand to one.
PHILLIPS: And yet, how do you account for these gas eruptions occurring on the surface of the planet at regular intervals?
PIERSON: Mr. Phillips, I cannot account for it.
PHILLIPS: By the way, Professor, for the benefit of our listeners, how far is Mars from the earth?
PIERSON: Approximately forty million miles.
PHILLIPS: Well, that seems a safe enough distance—Just a moment, ladies and gentlemen, someone has just handed Professor Pierson a message. While he reads it, let me remind you we are speaking to you from the observatory in Princeton, New Jersey, where we are interviewing the world-famous astronomer, Professor Pierson . . . One moment, please. Professor Pierson has passed me a message which he has just received. Professor, may I read the message to the listening audience?
PIERSON: Certainly, Mr. Phillips.
PHILLIPS: Ladies and gentlemen, I shall read you a wire addressed to Professor Pierson from Dr. Gray of the National History Museum, New York. “9:15 p.m. Eastern standard time. Seismograph registered shock of almost earthquake intensity occurring within a radius of twenty miles of Princeton. Please investigate. Signed, Lloyd Gray, Chief of Astronomical Division.” Professor Pierson, could this occurrence possibly have something to do with the disturbances observed on the planet Mars?
PIERSON: Hardly, Mr. Phillips. This is probably a meteorite of unusual size, and its arrival at this particular time is merely a coincidence. However, we shall conduct a search, as soon as daylight permits.
PHILLIPS: Thank you, Professor. Ladies and gentlemen, for the past ten minutes we’ve been speaking to you from the observatory at Princeton, bringing you a special interview with Professor Pierson, noted astronomer. This is Carl Phillips speaking. We now return you to our New York studio.
(Fade in piano playing)
ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, here is the latest bulletin from the Intercontinental Radio News. Toronto, Canada: Professor Morse of Macmillan University reports observing a total of three explosions on the planet Mars, between the hours of 7:45 p.m. and 9:20 p.m., Eastern standard time. This confirms earlier reports received from American observatories. Now, nearer home, comes a special announcement from Trenton, New Jersey. It is reported that at 8:50 p.m. a huge, flaming object, believed to be a meteorite, fell on a farm in the neighborhood of Grovers Mill, New Jersey, twenty-two miles from Trenton. The flash in the sky was visible within a radius of several hundred miles and the noise of the impact was heard as far north as Elizabeth.
We have dispatched a special mobile unit to the scene, and will have our commentator, Mr. PHILLIPS, give you a word description as soon as he can reach there from Princeton. In the meantime, we take you to the Hotel Martinet in Brooklyn, where Bobby Millette and his orchestra are offering a program of dance music.
(Swing band for 20 seconds . . . Then cut)
ANNOUNCER TWO: We take you now to Grovers Mill, New Jersey.
(Crowd noises . . . Police sirens)
PHILLIPS: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Carl Phillips again, at the Wilmuth farm, Grovers Mill, New Jersey. Professor Pierson and myself made the eleven miles from Princeton in ten minutes. Well, I—I hardly know where to begin, to paint for you a word picture of the strange scene before my eyes, like something out of a modern Arabian Nights. Well, I just got here. I haven’t had a chance to look around yet. I guess that’s it. Yes, I guess that’s the—thing, directly in front of me, half buried in a vast pit. Must have struck with terrific force. The ground is covered with splinters of a tree it must have struck on its way down. What I can see of the—object itself doesn’t look very much like a meteor, at least not the meteors I’ve seen. It looks more like a huge cylinder. It has a diameter of—what would you say, Professor Pierson (off): About thirty yards.
PHILLIPS: About thirty yards—The metal on the sheath is—well, I’ve never seen anything like it. The color is sort of yellowish-white. Curious spectators now are pressing close to the object in spite of the efforts of the police to keep them back. They’re getting in front of my line of vision. Would you mind standing on one side, please? policeman: One side, there, one side.
PHILLIPS: While the policemen are pushing the crowd back, here’s Mr. Wilmuth, owner of the farm here. He may have some interesting facts to add. Mr. Wilmuth, would you please tell the radio audience as much as you remember of this rather unusual visitor that dropped in your back yard? Step closer, please. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mr. Wilmuth.
WILMUTH: I was listenin’ to the radio—
PHILLIPS: Closer and louder, please.
WILMUTH: Pardon me!
PHILLIPS: Louder, please, and closer.
WILMUTH: Yes, sir—while I was listening to the radio and kinda drowsin’, that Professor fellow was talkin’ about Mars, so I was half dozin’ and half—
PHILLIPS: Yes, yes, Mr. Wilmuth. And then what happened?
WILMUTH: As I was sayin’, I was listenin’ to
the radio kinda halfways—
PHILLIPS: Yes, Mr. Wilmuth, and then you saw something?
WILMUTH: Not first off. I heard something.
PHILLIPS: And what did you hear?
WILMUTH: A hissing sound. Like this: sssssssss—kinda like a Fourt’ of July rocket.
PHILLIPS: Then what?
WILMUTH: Turned my head out the window and would have swore I was to sleep and dreamin’.
PHILLIPS: Yes?
WILMUTH: I seen a kinda greenish streak and then zingo! Somethin’ smacked the ground. Knocked me clear out of my chair!
PHILLIPS: Well, were you frightened, Mr. Wilmuth?
WILMUTH: Well, I—I ain’t quite sure. I reckon I—I was kinda riled.
PHILLIPS: Thank you, Mr. Wilmuth. Thank you.
WILMUTH: Want me to tell you some more?
PHILLIPS: No—that’s quite all right, that’s plenty—Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve just heard Mr. Wilmuth, owner of the farm where this thing has fallen. I wish I could convey the atmosphere—the background of this—fantastic scene. Hundreds of cars are parked in a field in back of us. Police are trying to rope off the roadway leading into the farm. But it’s no use. They’re breaking right through. Their headlights throw an enormous spot on the pit where the object’s half buried. Some of the more daring souls are venturing near the edge. Their silhouettes stand out against the metal sheen.
(Faint humming sound)
One man wants to touch the thing—he’s having an argument with a policeman. The policeman wins—Now, ladies and gentlemen, there’s something I haven’t mentioned in all this excitement, but it’s becoming more distinct. Perhaps you’ve caught it already on your radio. Listen (Long pause) . . . Do you hear it? It’s a curious humming sound that seems to come from inside the object. I’ll move the microphone nearer. Here. (Pause) Now we’re not more than twenty-five feet away. Can you hear it now? Oh, Professor Pierson!
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