CHAPTER XI

The _Astronef_ dropped swiftly down through the crimson-tinged clouds,

and a few minutes later they saw that the rest of the fleet had

scattered in units in all directions, apparently with the intention of

getting as far as possible out of reach of that terrible ram. Only one

of them, the largest, which carried what looked like a flag of woven

gold at the top of its centre mast, remained in sight after a few

minutes. It was almost immediately below them when they had passed

through the clouds, and they could see it sinking straight down towards

the centre of what appeared to be the principal square of the bigger of

the two cities which Zaidie had named New York and Brooklyn.

"That fellow has gone to report, evidently," said Redgrave. "We'll

follow him just to see what he's up to, but I don't think we'd better

open the ports even then. There's no telling when they might give us a

whiff of that poison-mist, or whatever it is."

"But how are you going to talk to them, then, if they can talk?--I mean,

if they know any language that we do?"

"They're something like men, and so I suppose they understand the

language of signs, at any rate. Still, if you don't fancy it, we'll go

somewhere else."

"No, thanks," she said. "That's not my father's daughter. I haven't come

a hundred million miles from home to go away before the first act's

finished. We'll go down to see if we can make them understand."

By this time the _Astronef_ was hanging suspended over an enormous

square about half the size of Hyde Park. It was laid out just as a

terrestrial park would be, in grass land, flower-beds, and avenues, and

patches of trees, only the grass was a reddish yellow, the leaves of the

trees were like those of a beech in autumn, and the flowers were nearly

all a deep violet, or a bright emerald green.

As they descended they saw that the square, or Central Park, as Zaidie

at once christened it, was flanked by enormous blocks of buildings,

palaces built of a dazzlingly white stone, and topped by domed roofs and

lofty cupolas of glass.

"Isn't that just lovely!" she said, swinging her binoculars in every

direction. "Talk about your Park Lane and the houses round Central Park;

why, it's the Chicago Exposition, and the Paris one, and your Crystal

Palace, multiplied by about ten thousand, and all spread out just round

this one place. If we don't find these people nice, I guess we'd better

go back and build a fleet like this, and come and take it."

"There spoke the new American imperialism," laughed Redgrave. "Well,

we'll go and see what they're like first, shall we?"

The _Astronef_ dropped a little more slowly than the air-ship had done,

and remained suspended a hundred feet or so above her after she had

reached the ground. Swarms of human figures but of more than human

stature, clad in tunics and trousers or knickerbockers, came out of the

glass-domed palaces from all sides into the park. They were nearly all

of the same stature, and there appeared to be no difference whatever

between the sexes. Their dress was absolutely plain; there was no

attempt at ornament or decoration of any kind.

"If there are any of the Martian women among those people," said her

ladyship, "they've taken to rationals, and they've grown about as big as

the men."

"That's exactly what's happening on earth, you know, dear. I don't mean

about the rationals, but the women growing up, especially in America. I

come of a pretty long family----but, look!"

"Well, I only come to your ear," she said.

"And our descendants of ten thousand years hence----"

"Oh, don't bother about them!" she said. "Look; there's some one who

seems to want to communicate with us. Why, they're all bald! They

haven't got a hair among them--and what a size their heads are!"

"That's brains--too much brains, in fact. These people have lived too

long. I daresay they've ceased to be animals--civilised themselves out

of everything in the way of passions and emotions, and are just purely

intellectual beings, with as much human nature about them as Russian

diplomacy or those things we saw at the bottom of the Newton Crater. I

don't like the look of them."

The orderly swarms of figures, which were rapidly filling the park,

divided as he was speaking, making a broad lane from one of its

entrances to where the _Astronef_ was hanging above the air-ship. A

light four-wheeled vehicle, whose framework and wheels glittered like

burnished gold, sped towards them, driven by some invisible agency.

Its only occupant was a huge man, dressed in the universal costume,

saving only a scarlet sash in place of the cord-girdle which the others

wore round their waists. The vehicle stopped near the air-ship, over

which the _Astronef_ was hanging, and, as the figure dismounted, a door

opened in the side of the vessel and three other figures, similar both

in stature and attire, came out and entered into conversation with him.

"The Admiral of the Fleet is evidently making his report," said

Redgrave. "Meanwhile, the crowd seems to be taking a considerable amount

of interest in us."

"And very naturally, too!" replied Zaidie. "Don't you think we might go

down now and see if we can make ourselves understood in any way? You can

have the guns ready in case of accidents, but I don't think they'll try

and hurt us now. Look, the gentleman with the red sash is making signs."

"I think we can go down now all right," replied Redgrave, "because it's

quite certain they can't use the poison-guns on us without killing

themselves as well. Still, we may as well have our own ready. Andrew,

get that port Maxim ready. I hope we shan't want it, but we may. I don't

quite like the look of these people."

"They're very ugly, aren't they?" said Zaidie; "and really you can't

tell which are men and which are women. I suppose they've civilised

themselves out of everything that's nice, and are just scientific and

utilitarian and everything that's horrid."

"I shouldn't wonder. They look to me as if they've just got common

sense, as we call it, and hadn't any other sense; but, at any rate, if

they don't behave themselves, we shall be able to teach them manners of

a sort, though we may possibly have done that to some extent already."

As he said this Redgrave went into the conning-tower, and the _Astronef_

moved from above the air-ship, and dropped gently into the crimson grass

about a hundred feet from her. Then the ports were opened, the guns,

which Murgatroyd had loaded, were swung into position, and they armed

themselves with a brace of revolvers each, in case of accident.

"What delicious air this is!" said her ladyship, as the ports were

opened and she took her first breath of the Martian atmosphere. "It's

ever so much nicer than ours. Oh, Lenox, it's just like breathing

champagne."

Redgrave looked at her with an admiration which was tempered by a sudden

apprehension. Even in his eyes she had never seemed so lovely before.

Her cheeks were glowing and her eyes were gleaming with a brightness

that was almost feverish, and he was himself sensible of a strange

feeling of exultation, both mental and physical, as his lungs filled

with the Martian air.

"Oxygen," he said, shortly, "and too much of it! Or I shouldn't wonder

if it was something like nitrous-oxide--you know, laughing gas."

"Don't!" she laughed; "it may be very nice to breathe, but it reminds

one of other things which aren't a bit nice. Still, if it is anything of

that sort it might account for these people having lived so fast. I know

I feel just now as if I was living at the rate of thirty-six hours a

day, and so, I suppose, the fewer hours we stop here the better."

"Exactly!" said Redgrave, with another glance of apprehension at her.

"Now, there's his Royal Highness, or whatever he is, coming. How are we

going to talk to him? Are you all ready, Andrew?"

"Yes, my Lord, all ready," replied the old Yorkshireman, dropping his

huge, hairy hand on the breech of the Maxim.

"Very well, then, shoot the moment you see them doing anything

suspicious, and don't let any one except his Royal Highness come nearer

than a hundred yards."

As he said this Redgrave went to the door, from which the gangway steps

had been lowered, and, in reply to a singularly expressive gesture from

the huge Martian, who seemed to stand nearly nine feet high, he beckoned

to him to come up on to the deck.

As he mounted the steps the crowd closed round the _Astronef_ and the

Martian air-ship; but, as though in obedience to orders which had

already been given, they kept at a respectful distance of a little over

a hundred yards away from the strange vessel which had wrought such

havoc with their fleet. When the Martian reached the deck, Redgrave held

out his hand and the giant recoiled, as a man on earth might have done

if, instead of the open palm, he had seen a clenched hand gripping a

knife.

"Take care, Lenox," exclaimed Zaidie, taking a couple of steps towards

him, with her right hand on the butt of one of her revolvers. The

movement brought her close to the open door, and in full view of the

crowd outside.

If a seraph had come on earth and presented itself thus before a throng

of human beings, there might have happened some such miracle as was

wrought when the swarm of Martians beheld the strange beauty of this

radiant daughter of the earth.

As it seemed to the space-voyagers, when they discussed it afterwards,

ages of purely utilitarian civilisation had brought all conditions of

Martian life up--or down--to the same level. There was no apparent

difference between the males and females in stature; their faces were

all the same, with features of mathematical regularity, pale skin,

bloodless cheeks, and an expression, if such it could be called, utterly

devoid of emotion.

But still these creatures were human, or at least their forefathers had

been. Hearts beat in their breasts, blood of a sort still flowed through

their veins, and so the magic of this marvellous vision instantly awoke

the long-slumbering elementary instincts of a bygone age. A low murmur

ran through the vast throng, a murmur half-human, half-brutish, which

swiftly rose to a hoarse screaming roar.

"Look out, my Lord! Quick! Shut the door, they're coming! It's her

ladyship they want; she must look like an angel from Heaven to them.

Shall I fire?"

"Yes," said Redgrave, gripping the lever, and bringing the door down.

"Zaidie, if this fellow moves put a bullet through him. I'm going to

talk to that air-ship before he gets his poison-guns to work."

As the last word left his lips Murgatroyd put his thumb on the spring on

the Maxim. A roar such as Martian ears had never heard before resounded

through the vast square, and was flung back with a thousand echoes from

the walls of the huge palaces on every side. A stream of smoke and flame

poured out of the little port-hole, and then the onward-swarming throng

seemed to stop, and the front ranks of it began to sink down silently in

long rows.

Then through the roaring rattle of the Maxim sounded the deep, sharp

bang of Redgrave's gun, as he sent ten pounds weight of Rennickite, as

he had christened it, into the Martian air-ship. There was the roar of

an explosion which shook the air for miles around. A blaze of greenish

flame and a huge cloud of steamy smoke showed that the projectile had

done its work, and, when the smoke drifted away, the spot on which the

air-ship had lain was only a deep, red, jagged gash in the ground. There

was not even a fragment of the ship to be seen.

This done, Redgrave went and turned the starboard Maxim on to another

swarm which was approaching the _Astronef_ from that side. When he had

got the range he swung the gun slowly from side to side. The moving

throng stopped, as the other one had done, and sank down to the red

grass, now dyed with a deeper red.

Meanwhile, Zaidie had been holding the Martian at something more than

arm's length with her revolver. He seemed to understand perfectly that,

if she pulled the trigger, the revolver would do something like what the

Maxims had done. He appeared to take no notice whatever either of the

destruction of the air-ship or of the slaughter that was going on around

the _Astronef_. His big, pale blue eyes were fixed upon her face. They

seemed to be devouring a loveliness such as they had never seen before.

A dim, pinky flush stole for the first time into his waxy cheeks, and

something like a light of human passion came into his eyes.

Then, to the utter astonishment of both Redgrave and Zaidie, he said

slowly and deliberately, and with only just enough tinge of emotion in

his voice to make Redgrave want to shoot him:

"Beautiful. Perfect. More perfect than ours. I want it. Give Palace and

Garden of Eternal Summer for it. Two thousand work-slaves and fifty----"

"And I'll see you damned first, sir, whoever you are!" said Redgrave,

clapping his hand on to the butt of his revolver, and forgetting for the

moment that he was speaking in another world than his own. "What the

devil do you mean, sir, by insulting my wife----?"

"Insulting. Wife. What is that? We have no words like those."

"But you speak English," exclaimed Zaidie, going a little nearer to him,

but still keeping the muzzle of her revolver pointing up to his hairless

head. "No, Lenox, don't be afraid about me, and don't get angry. Can't

you see that this person hasn't got any temper? I suppose it was

civilised out of his ancestors ages ago. He doesn't know what a wife or

an insult is. He just looks upon me as a desirable piece of property to

be bought, and I daresay he offered you a very handsome price. Now,

don't look so savage, because you know bargains like that have been made

even on our dear old virtuous Mother Earth. For instance, if you hadn't

met us in the middle of the Atlantic----"

"That'll do, Zaidie," Redgrave interrupted almost roughly. "That's not

exactly the question, but I see what you mean, and it was a bit silly of

me to get angry."

"Silly? Angry? What do those words mean?" said the Martian in his slow,

passionless, mechanical voice. "Who are you? Whence come you?"

"I'll answer the last part first," said Redgrave. "We come from the

earth, the planet which you see after sunset and before sunrise."

"Yes, the Silver Star," said the Martian without any note of wonder or

surprise in his voice. "Are all the dwellers there like the gods and

angels our children read about in the old legends?"

"Gods and angels!" laughed Zaidie. "There, Lenox, there's a compliment

for you. I really think we ought to be as civil to his Royal Highness

after that as possible." Then she went on, addressing the Martian, "No,

we are not all gods and angels on earth. There are no gods and very few

angels. In fact there are none except those which exist in the fancy of

certain prejudiced persons. But that doesn't matter, at least not just

now," she continued with American directness. "What we want to know just

now is, why you speak English, and what sort of a world this Mars is?"

The Martian evidently only understood the most direct essentials of her

speech. He saw that she asked two questions, and he answered them.

"Speak English?" he replied, with a little shake of his huge head. "We

know not English, but there is no other speech. There is only ours.

Cycles ago there were other speeches here, but those who spoke them were

killed. It was inconvenient. One speech for a world is best."

"I see what he means," said Redgrave, looking towards Zaidie. "The

Martian people have developed along practically the same lines as we are

doing, but they have done it faster and got a long way ahead of us. We

are finding out that the speech we call English is the shortest and most

convenient. The Martians found it out long ago and killed everybody who

spoke anything else. After all, what we call speech is only the

translation of thoughts into sounds. These people have been thinking for

ages with the same sort of brains as ours, and they've translated their

thoughts into the same sounds. What we call English they, I daresay,

call Martian, and that's all there is in it that I can see."

"Of course," laughed Zaidie. "Wonderful until you know how, eh? Like

most things. Still I must say that our friend here speaks English

something like a phonograph, and if he'll excuse me saying so, which of

course he will, he doesn't seem to have much more human nature about

him."

"I'm not quite so sure on that point," said Redgrave, "but----"

"Oh, never mind about that now!" she interrupted, and then, turning

towards the Martian, who had been listening intently as though he was

trying to make sense out of what they had been saying, she went on

speaking slowly and very plainly----

"Tell me, sir, if you please, do you know what 'angry' means? Are you

not angry with us for destroying your air-ships up there in the clouds,

and the one that came down, and for shooting all those people of yours?"

The Martian looked at her with a little light in his big blue eyes, and

two faint little spots of red just under them, and said:

"Anger! Yes, I remember, that is what we called brain-heat. Our teachers

found it to be madness and it was abolished. It was not convenient. The

air-ships were not convenient to you, so you abolished them. The folk,

too, that you abolished with those things," pointing to the guns, "they

were not convenient. If you hadn't done that they would have abolished

you. There is no more to say."

"What brutes," said Zaidie, turning away from him, her head thrown back

and her lips curling in unutterable disgust. "Well, if these people have

civilised themselves along the same lines that we are doing, thinking

the same things and speaking something like the same speech, thank God

we shall be dead before our civilisation reaches a stage like this.

That's not a man. It's only a machine of flesh and bone and nerves, and

I suppose it has blood of some sort."

A beautiful woman always looks most beautiful when she is just a little

angry. Redgrave had never seen Zaidie look quite so lovely as she did

just then. The Martian, whose ancestors had for generations forgotten

what human emotion was like, only saw in her anger a miracle which made

her a thousand times more beautiful than before, and as he looked upon

her glowing cheeks and gleaming eyes some instinct insensibly

transmitted through many generations awoke to sudden life in some unused

corner of his brain.

His pale clear eyes lit up with something like a glow of human passion.

The pink spots under his eyes spread downwards over his cheeks. Some

half-articulate sounds came from between his thin lips. Then they were

drawn back and showed his smooth, toothless gums. He took a couple of

long, swift strides towards her, and then bent forward, towering over

her with long, outstretched arms, huge, hideous, and half-human.

Zaidie sprang backwards as he came towards her, her right hand went up,

and, just as Redgrave levelled his revolver, and Murgatroyd, true to the

old Berserk instinct, took a rifle by the barrel and swung the stock

above his head, Zaidie pulled her trigger. The bullet cut a clean hole

through the smooth, hairless skull of the Martian. A dark, red spot came

just between his eyes, his huge frame shrank together and collapsed in a

heap on the deck.

"Oh, I've killed him! God forgive me, killed a man!" she whispered, as

her hand fell to her side, and the revolver dropped from her fingers.

"But, Lenox, do you really think it was a man?"

"That thing a man!" he replied between his clenched teeth. "He wanted

you, and spoke English of a sort, so there was something human about

him, but anyhow he's better dead. Here, Andrew, open that door again and

help me to heave this thing overboard. Then I think we'd better be off

before we have the rest of the fleet with their poison guns round us.

Zaidie, I think you'd better go to your room for the present. Take a nip

of cognac and then lie down, and mind you keep the door tight shut.

There's no telling what these animals might do if they had a chance, and

just now it's my business and Andrew's to see that they don't."

Though she would much rather have remained on deck to see anything more

that might happen, she saw that he was really in earnest, and so like a

wise wife who commands by obeying, she obeyed, and went below.

Then the dead body of the Martian was tumbled out of the side door. The

windows through which the guns had been fired were hermetically closed,

and a few minutes later the _Astronef_ vanished from the surface of

Mars, to remain a memory and a marvel to the dwindling generations of

the worn-out world which is as this may be in the far-off days that are

to come.