The Space Machine

i

From the moment of our waking the following morning, Amelia and I were treated with deference and humility. Even so, the legends that were now directing our lives seemed quite emphatic that we were to work with the others on the weed-bank, and so much of our day was spent in cold mud up to our knees. Edwina worked with us, and although there was something about her bland stare that made me uneasy, she was undoubtedly useful to us.

Neither Amelia nor I did much actual weed-cutting. As soon as we were established at the bank we received many different visitors: some of them slaves, others overseers, all of them evidently anxious to meet those who would lead the revolt. Hearing what was said—translated earnestly, if not always entirely comprehensibly, by Edwina—I realized that Amelia’s talk of revolution had not been made lightly. Several of the overseers had come from the city itself, and we learnt that there elaborate plans were being made to overthrow the monsters.

It was an enthralling day, realizing that we might at last have provided the stimulus to these people to take revenge on their abhorrent masters. Indeed, Amelia reminded our visitors many times of my heroic deed the day before. The phrase was repeated often: the monsters are mortal.

However, mortal or not, the monsters were still in evidence, and presented a constant threat. Often during the day the weed-bank was patrolled by one of the immense tripodal battle-machines, and at those times all revolutionary activities were suspended while we attended to the cutting.

During one period when we were left alone, I asked Amelia why the weed-cutting continued if the revolution was so far advanced. She explained that the vast majority of the slaves were employed in this work, and that if it was stopped before the revolution was under way the monsters would instantly realize something was afoot. In any event, the main benefactors were the humans themselves, as the weed was the staple diet.

And the blood-letting? I asked her. Could that not then be stopped?

She replied that refusal to give any more blood was the only sure way the humans had of conquering the monsters, and there had been frequent attempts to disobey the most dreaded injunction on this world. On those occasions, the monsters’ reprisals had been summary and widespread. In the most recent incident, which had occurred some sixty days before, over one thousand slaves had been massacred. The terror of the monsters was constant, and even while the insurgency was planned, the daily sacrifices had to be made.

In the city, though, the established order was in imminent danger of being overthrown. Slaves and city-people were uniting at last, and throughout the city there were organized cells of volunteers; men and women who, when the command was given, would attack specified targets. It was the battle-machines which presented the greatest threat: unless several heat-cannons could be commandeered by the humans, there could be no defence against them.

I said: “Should we not be in the city? If you are controlling the revolution, surely it should be done from there?”

“Of course. I was intending to visit the city again tomorrow. You will see for yourself just how advanced we are.”

Then more visitors arrived: this time, a delegation of overseers who worked in one of the industrial areas. They told us, through Edwina, that small acts of sabotage were already taking place, and output had been temporarily halved.

So the day passed, and by the time we returned to the building I was exhausted and exhilarated. I had had no conception of the good use to which Amelia had put her time with the slaves. There was an air of vibrancy and purpose… and great urgency. Several times I heard her exhorting the Martians to bring forward their preparations, so that the revolution itself might begin a little earlier.

After we had washed and eaten, Amelia and I returned to what were now our shared quarters. Once in there, and alone with her, I asked her why there was such need for urgency. After all, I argued, surely the revolution would be more assured of success if it was prepared more carefully?

“It is a question of timing, Edward,” she said. “We must attack when the monsters are unprepared and weak. This is such a time.”

“But they are at the height of their power!” I said in surprise. “You cannot be blind to that.”

“My dear,” said Amelia, “if we do not strike against the monsters within the next few days, then the cause of humanity on this world will be lost forever.”

“I cannot see why. The monsters have held their sway until now. why should they be any less prepared for an uprising?”

This was the answer that Amelia gave me, gleaned from the legends of the Martians amongst whom she had been living for so long:

ii

Mars is a world much older than Earth, and the ancient Martians had achieved a stable scientific civilization many thousands of years ago. Like Earth, Mars had had its empires and wars, and like Earthmen the Martians were ambitious and for ward-looking. Unfortunately, Mars is unlike Earth in one crucial way, which is to say that it is physically much smaller. As a consequence, the two substances essential to intelligent human life—air and water—were gradually leaking away into space, in such a way that the ancient Martians knew that their existence could not be expected, to survive for more than another thousand of their years.

There was no conceivable method that the Martians had at their command to combat the insidious dying of their planet.

Unable to solve the problem directly, the ancient Martians essayed an indirect solution. Their plan was to breed a new race—using human cells selected from the brains of the ancient scientists themselves—which would have no other function than to contain a vast intellect. In time, and Amelia said that it must have taken many hundreds of years, the first monster-creatures were evolved.

The first successful monsters were completely dependent on mankind, for they were incapable of movement, could survive only by being given transfusions of blood from domestic animals, and were subject to the slightest infection. They had, however been given the means to reproduce themselves, and as the generations of monster-creatures proceeded, so the beings developed more resistance and an ability to move, albeit with great difficulty. Once the beings were relatively independent, they were set the task of confronting the problem which threatened all existence on Mars.

What those ancient scientists could not have foreseen was that as well as being of immense intellect, the monster-creatures were wholly ruthless, and once set to this task would allow no impediment to their science. The very interests of mankind, for which they were ultimately working were of necessity subordinated to the pursuit of a solution! In this way, mankind on Mars eventually became enslaved to the creatures.

As the centuries passed the demands for blood increased, until the inferior blood of animals was not enough; so began the terrible blood-letting that we had witnessed.

In the initial stages of their work the monster-creatures, for all their ruthlessness, had not been entirely evil, and had indeed brought much good to the world. They had conceived and supervised the digging of the canals that irrigated the dry equatorial regions, and, to prevent as much water as possible from evaporating into space, they had developed plants of high water-content which could be grown as a staple crop alongside the canals.

In addition, they had devised a highly efficient heat-source which was used to provide power for the cities (and which latterly, had been adapted to be come the heat-cannon), as well as the domes of electrical force which contained the atmosphere around the cities.

As time passed, however, some of the monster-creatures had despaired of finding a solution to the central problem. Others of their kind disagreed that the task was insurmountable, and maintained that however much the role of humans may have changed, their primary task was to continue.

After centuries of squabbling, the monster-creatures had started fighting amongst themselves, and the skirmishes continued until today. The wars were worsening, for now the humans themselves were an issue: as their numbers were being steadily depleted, so the monsters were becoming concerned about shortages of their own food.

The situation had resolved into two groups: the monsters who controlled this city—which was the largest on Mars—and who had convinced themselves that no solution to the eventual death of Mars was possible, and those of the other three cities—of which Desolation City was one—who were prepared to continue the quest. From the humans’ viewpoint, neither side had anything to commend it, for the slavery would continue whatever the outcome.

But at the present moment the monster-creatures of this city were vulnerable. They were preparing a migration to another planet, and in their preoccupation with this the rule of slavery was the weakest the Martian humans could remember. The migration was due to start within a few days, and as many of the monster-creatures would remain on Mars, the revolution must take place during the migration itself if it was to have any chance of success.

iii

As Amelia finished her account I found that my hands had started to tremble, and even in the customary coldness of the building I found that my face and hands were damp with perspiration. For many moments I could not say anything, as I tried to find a way of expressing the turbulence of my emotions.

In the end my words were plain.

I said: “Amelia, do you have any notion which planet it is these beings are intending to colonize?”

She gestured impatiently.

“’What does it matter?” she said. “while they are occupied with this, they are vulnerable to attack. If we miss this chance, we may never have another.”

I suddenly saw an aspect of Amelia I had not seen before. She, in her own way, had become a little ruthless. Then I thought again, and realized she seemed ruthless only because our own acceptance of our fate had destroyed her sense of perspective.

It was with love, then, that I said: “Amelia … are you now wholly Martian? Or do you fear what might happen if these monsters were to invade Earth?”

The perspective returned to her with the same shock as I myself had experienced. Her face became ashen and her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She gasped, and her fingers went to her lips. Abruptly, she pushed past me, went through the partition and ran across the main hall. As she reached the further wall, she covered her face with her hands and her shoulders shook as she wept.

iv

We passed a restless night, and in the morning set off, as planned, for the city.

Three Martians travelled with us: one was Edwina, for we still required an interpreter, and the other two were city-Martians, each brandishing an electrical whip. We had said nothing of our conversation to any of the Martians, and our plan was still ostensibly to visit several of the insurgents’ cells in the city.

In fact, I was much preoccupied with my own thoughts, and I knew Amelia was suffering a torment of conflicting loyalties. Our silence as the train moved steadily towards the city must have intrigued the Martians, because normally we both had much to say. Occasionally, Edwina would point out landmarks to us, but I at least could not summon much interest.

Before we had left the slave-camp, I had managed a few more words with Amelia in private.

“We must get back to Earth,” I said. “If these monsters land there is no telling what damage they might cause.”

“But what could we do to stop that?”

“You agree, though, that we must find a way to Earth?”

“Yes, of course. But how?”

“If they are travelling by projectile,” .I had said, “then we must somehow stow away. The journey will not take more than a day or two, and we could survive that long. Once we are on Earth we can alert the authorities.”

For a makeshift plan this was good enough, and Amelia had agreed with it in principle. Her main doubts, though, were else where.

“Edward,. I cannot just abandon these people now. I have encouraged them to revolt, and now I propose to leave them at the crucial moment.”

“I could leave you here with them,” I had said, with deliberate coldness.

“Oh no.” She had taken my hand then. “My loyalties are with Earth. It is simply that I have a responsibility here for what I have started.”

“Isn’t that at the centre of your dilemma?” I said. “You have started the revolution. You have been the necessary catalyst for the people. But it is their fight for freedom, not yours. In any event, you cannot direct an entire revolution alone, with an alien race you barely understand, in a language you do not speak. If the preparations are being made, and you have not yet seen most of them, already you have become little more than a figurehead.”

“I suppose so.”

She was still absorbed in thought, though, as we sat in the train, and I knew it was a decision she would have to make for herself.

The two Martian overseers were pointing proudly towards one of the industrial sites the train was passing. There seemed to be little activity here, for no smoke came from any of the chimneys. There were several of the battle-machines standing about, and we saw many legged vehicles. Edwina explained that it was here that sabotage had already been committed. There had been no reprisals, for the various acts had been made to appear accidental.

For my part, I had been taken by an enthralling notion, and was presently considering every aspect of it.

The revolution that meant so much to Amelia was of less concern to me, for it had been conceived and planned in my absence. I think, had I not heard of the monsters planned migration from Mars, that I too would have thrown myself into the cause and fought for it, and risked my life for it. But in all the weeks and months I had been on Mars, I had never lost an inner ache: the feeling of isolation, the sense of homesickness. I wanted desperately to return to my own world, or that part of it I knew as home.

I had been missing London—for all its crowds and noises and rank odours—and I had been hungering for the sight of greenery. There is nothing so beautiful as the English countryside in spring, and if in the past, I had taken it for granted, I knew that I could never do so again. This was a world of foreign colours: grey cities, rufous soil, scarlet vegetation. If there had been so much as one oak-tree, or one bumpy meadow, or one bank of wild flowers, I might at last have learned to live on Mars, but none of these existed.

That the monster-creatures had the means of reaching Earth was therefore of intense importance to me, for it provided a way back to our home.

I had proposed to Amelia that we stow away on one of their deadly projectiles, but this was a dangerous idea.

Quite apart from the fact that we might be discovered during the voyage, or that some other danger might appear, we would be arriving on Earth in the company of the most hostile and ruthless enemy mankind would have ever bad to face!

We did not know the monsters’ plans, but we had no reason to suppose that their mission was one of peace. Neither Amelia nor I had the right to participate in an invasion of Earth, how ever passive the part we played. Moreover, we had a bounden duty to warn the world of the Martians’ plans.

There was a solution to this, and from the moment it occurred to me the simple audacity of it made it irresistible.

I had been aboard one of the projectiles; I had seen it in flight; I had examined its controls.

Amelia and I would steal one of the projectiles, and fly it ourselves to Earth!

v

We arrived in the city without being challenged, and were led through the streets by our Martian accomplices.

The sparseness of the population was not as evident here as it had been in Desolation City. There were fewer empty buildings, and the obvious military strength of the monster-creatures had averted any invasions. Another difference was that there were factories within the city itself—as well as in separate areas outside—for there was a smoky industrial pall that served to heighten my feelings of homesickness for London.

We had no time to see much of the city, for we were taken immediately to one of the dormitories. Here, in a small room at the rear, we met one of the main cells of the revolution.

As we entered, the Martians showed their enthusiasm by leaping up and down as before. I could not help but warm to these poor, enslaved people, and share their excitement as the overthrow of the monsters became ever a more realistic proposition.

We were treated as royalty is treated in England, and I realized that Amelia and I were acting regally. Our every response was eagerly awaited, and mute as we had to be, we smiled and nodded as one Martian after another explained to us, through Edwina, what his assigned task was to be.

From here we were taken to another place, and more of the same happened. It was almost exactly as I had described it to Amelia: she had catalysed the Martians to action, and set in motion a sequence of events she could no longer control.

I was becoming tired and impatient, and as we walked to inspect a third cell, I said to Amelia: “We are not spending our time well.”

“We must do as they wish. We owe them at least this.”

“I would like to see more of the city. We do not even know where the snow-cannon is to be found.”

In spite of the fact that we were with six Martians, each of whom was trying to speak to her through Edwina, Amelia expressed her feelings with a tired shrug.

“I cannot leave them now,” she said. “Perhaps you could go alone.”

“Then who would interpret for me?”

Edwina was tugging at Amelia’s hand, trying to show her the building to which we were presently walking and where, presumably, the next cell was concealed. Amelia dutifully smiled and nodded.

“We had best not separate,” she said. “But if you ask Edwina, she could find out what you want to know.”

A few moments later we entered the building, and in the darkened basement we were greeted by some forty enthusiastic Martians.

A little later I managed to take Edwina away from Amelia long enough to convey to her what I wanted. She seemed not interested, but passed on the message to one of the city-Martians present. He left the basement soon after, while we continued the inspection of our revolutionary troops.

vi

Just as we were readying ourselves to leave for the next port of call, my emissary returned, bringing with him two young Martian men dressed in the black uniforms of the men who drove the projectiles.

At the sight of them I was a little taken aback. Of all the humans I had met here, the men trained to fly the projectiles had seemed the closest to the monster-creatures, and were therefore the ones I had least expected to be trusted now the old order was about to be overthrown. But here the two men were, admitted to one of the revolutionary nerve-centres.

Suddenly, my idea became easier to put into effect. I had intended to gain entry to the snow-cannon, while Amelia and I were disguised, and attempt to work out the controls for myself. However, if I could communicate to these two what I wanted they could show me themselves how to operate the craft, or even come with us to Earth.

I said to Edwina: “I want you to ask these two men to take me to their flying war-machine, and show me how it is operated.”

She repeated my sentence to me, and when I had made sure she understood me correctly, she passed it on. One of the Martians replied.

“He wants to know where you are taking the craft,” said Edwina.

“Tell them that I wish to steal it from the monsters, and take it to the warm world.”

Edwina replied immediately: “Will you go alone, pale dwarf, or will Amelia go with you?”

“We will go together.”

Edwina’s response to this was not what I would have wished. She turned towards the revolutionaries, and embarked on a long speech, with much sibilance and waving arms. Before she had finished, about a dozen Martian men hurried towards me, took me by the arms and held me with my face pressing against the wall.

From the far side of the room, Amelia called: “What have you said now, Edward?”

vii

It took Amelia ten minutes to secure my release. In the meantime I suffered considerable discomfort, with both my arms twisted painfully behind my back. For all their frail appearance, the Martians were very strong.

When I was freed, Amelia and I went into a small room at the back, accompanied by two of the Martian men. In this they played unwittingly into our hands, for without Edwina they could not understand us, and it was to talk to Amelia that I wanted.

“Now please tell me what that was all about,” she said.

“I have worked out a new idea for our return to Earth I was trying to put it into effect, and the Martians misunderstood my motives.”

“Then what did you say?”

I outlined for her the essence of my plan to steal a projectile in advance of the monsters’ invasion.

“Could you drive such a machine?” she said when I had finished.

“I shouldn’t imagine there would be any difficulty. I have examined the controls. It would be a matter of a few minutes to familiarize myself.”

Amelia looked doubtful, but she said: “Even so, you have seen how the people react. They will not let me go with you. Does your plan allow for that?”

“You have already said that you will not stay here.”

“Of my own free will I would not.”

“Then we must somehow persuade them,” I said.

The two Martians guarding us were shifting restlessly. As I had been speaking I had laid my hand on Amelia’s arm, and at this they had started forward protectively.

“We had better return to the others,” Amelia said. “They do not trust you as it is.”

“We have resolved nothing,” I said.

“At this moment we have not. But if I intervene I think we may persuade them.”

I was learning at last to interpret the expressions of the Martians, and when we returned to the basement I sensed that the feeling had moved even further against me. Several people went forward to Amelia with their hands raised, and I was thrust aside. The two men who had been guarding us stayed with me, and I was forced to stand apart while Amelia was acclaimed possessively. Edwina was with her, and hasty words were exchanged for several minutes. In the uproar I could not hear what was being said.

I watched Amelia.

In the midst of the confusion she stayed placid and in control of her emotions, listening to Edwina’s translations, then waiting while more voices harangued her in that foreign sibilance. It was, in spite of the tension, a wonderful moment, because in that enforced objectivity I was able to see her from a standpoint that was at once more intimate and more distanced than I cared. We had been thrust into each other’s company by our adventures, and yet now we were being torn away from each other as a consequence. The fundamental alienness of these Martian people never seemed more affecting to me than at that moment.

I knew that if Amelia was prevented from flying with me in the projectile, then I would stay with her on Mars.

At last order was restored, and Amelia moved to the end of the room. With Edwina by her side she turned to face the crowd. I was still kept to one side, hemmed in by my two guards.

Amelia raised her right hand, spreading her fingers, and silence fell.

“My people, what has happened has forced me to reveal to you my origins.” She was speaking slowly and softly, allowing Edwina to interpret for her. “I have not done so before, because your legends spoke of your freedom being delivered by one who was enslaved from birth. I have suffered with you and worked with you, and although you have accepted me as your leader I was not born to slavery.”

There was an instant reaction to this, but Amelia went on:

“Now I have learned that the race of beings which has enslaved you, and which will shortly be overthrown by your valour, is intending to spread its dominance to another world … the one you know as the warm world. What I have not told you before is that I am myself from the warm world, and I travelled across the sky in a craft similar to the one your masters use.”

She was interrupted here by much noise from the Martians.

“Our revolution here cannot fail, for our determination is as great as our bravery. But if some of these creatures are allowed to escape to another world, who could say that they would never return at a later time? But then, the passions of revolution would be spent, and the creatures would easily enslave you once more.

“For the revolution to succeed, we must ensure that every one of the creatures is killed!”

“Therefore it is essential that I return to my own world to warn my people of what is being planned here. The man you call the pale dwarf, and I, must carry this warning, and unite the people of the warm world as we have united you here to, fight this menace. Then, when we are able, I will return to share with you the glories of freedom!”

I knew that Amelia had already allayed the worst of the Martians’ suspicions, for several were leaping enthusiastically.

She had more to say, though: “Finally, you must no longer distrust the man you call the pale dwarf. It is his heroic deed which must become your example. He, and only he, has shown that the monsters are mortal. Let his brave act be the first blow for freedom!”

All the Martians were leaping and shrilling, and in the noise I doubted if any could hear her. But she looked at me and spoke softly, and her words carried to me as clearly as if the room were silent.

She said: “You must trust and love him, just as I trust and love him.”

Then I rushed across the room towards her and took her in my arms, oblivious of the demonstrative approval of the Martians.