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The War of The Worlds - A Science Fiction Classic (Complete Edition)
The War of The Worlds - A Science Fiction Classic (Complete Edition)
The War of The Worlds - A Science Fiction Classic (Complete Edition)
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The War of The Worlds - A Science Fiction Classic (Complete Edition)

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This carefully crafted ebook: "The War of The Worlds - A Science Fiction Classic (Complete Edition)" is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents. The War of the Worlds is a science fiction novel. It is the first-person narrative of an unnamed protagonist in Surrey and that of his younger brother in London as Earth is invaded by Martians. It is one of the earliest stories that detail a conflict between mankind and an extraterrestrial race. The novel is one of the most commented-on works in the science fiction canon. The War of the Worlds has two parts, Book One: The Coming of the Martians and Book Two: The Earth under the Martians. The unnamed narrator, a philosophically inclined author, struggles to return to his wife while seeing the Martians lay waste to the southern country outside London. Book One also imparts the experience of his brother, also unnamed, who describes events as they deteriorate in the capital, forcing him to escape the Martian onslaught by boarding a paddle steamer near Tillingham, on the Essex coast. Herbert George Wells (1866 – 1946), known as H. G. Wells, was a prolific English writer in many genres, including the novel, history, politics, and social commentary, and textbooks and rules for war games. This carefully crafted ebook: "The War of The Worlds - A Science Fiction Classic (Complete Edition)" is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents. The War of the Worlds is a science fiction novel. It is the first-person narrative of an unnamed protagonist in Surrey and that of his younger brother in London as Earth is invaded by Martians. It is one of the earliest stories that detail a conflict between mankind and an extraterrestrial race. The novel is one of the most commented-on works in the science fiction canon. The War of the Worlds has two parts, Book One: The Coming of the Martians and Book Two: The Earth under the Martians.
LanguageEnglish
Publishere-artnow
Release dateApr 27, 2015
ISBN9788026839958
The War of The Worlds - A Science Fiction Classic (Complete Edition)
Author

H. G. Wells

H.G. Wells (1866–1946) was an English novelist who helped to define modern science fiction. Wells came from humble beginnings with a working-class family. As a teen, he was a draper’s assistant before earning a scholarship to the Normal School of Science. It was there that he expanded his horizons learning different subjects like physics and biology. Wells spent his free time writing stories, which eventually led to his groundbreaking debut, The Time Machine. It was quickly followed by other successful works like The Island of Doctor Moreau and The War of the Worlds.

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Rating: 3.7695763184852376 out of 5 stars
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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Great story!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    It is a good book,and it is very interesting,anyway,i think it is a also serious story.For this book tols us some very realistic things.Whatever you are a person or you are an object,all of us are a part of the world,and we should respect the objective law to protect it.If it has a day when Mars invaded the earth,what should we do??It is a difficult and a little absurb question to answer,but it is very reality..Not everything can be solved with weapon,we must protect everything by ourselves,the book is an art,i think..
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Great early Science Fiction. Enjoyed the suspense of it. The questions it created such as: What did the Marsians really look like? Was the same scenerio ocurring throughout the world or only in England? And more. I have more of his books to read to complete my list of Manly books. I look forward to reading more.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    The classic tale that is now legendary for causing a panic as a radio play many years later. Wells was fascinated by the "canals" on Mars, and that shows in his story of Martians attacking the world. One place where this story has an edge on so many of the genre is the way Wells manages to use an obvious scientific fact as a resolution to the story. So often science fiction contains much more fiction than science.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This is the granddaddy of all alien invasion stories, first published by H.G. Wells in 1898. The novel begins ominously, as the lone voice of a narrator tells readers that "No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's..."Things then progress from a series of seemingly mundane reports about odd atmospheric disturbances taking place on Mars to the arrival of Martians just outside of London. At first the Martians seem laughable, hardly able to move in Earth's comparatively heavy gravity even enough to raise themselves out of the pit created when their spaceship landed. But soon the Martians reveal their true nature as death machines 100-feet tall rise up from the pit and begin laying waste to the surrounding land. Wells quickly moves the story from the countryside to the evacuation of London itself and the loss of all hope as England's military suffers defeat after defeat.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    From todays perspective, the ideas are no big deal. But go back to a time when the book was written, when man still had to touch the skies, and then the ideas hit you.
    this guy was a visionary. writing bout flying, aliens, time travel would require a keen brain. a book true to the sci fi genre
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    For sci-fi this is a must. I love the language that is used, what is today 'Old English', very eloquent, stylish and intelligent without ever being too clever. H.G Wells certainly new how to tell a story and put humanity at the very limit of its endurance. His characters are very believable, vulnerable and yet heroic in the face of adversity. I particularly enjoyed the flight of the masses through the streets of London.

    Truly brilliant.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    'No one would have believed, in the last years of the nineteenth century, that human affairs were being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's.' The aliens of HG Wells' novel come from the mysterious red planet, Mars. I found myself completely taken over by this sci fi classic, one hundred years after it was first published. The action starts in Surrey before moving cross country to London. I was working in Kew when I was reading this and at one point the narrator has to hide from the Martians near Kew Lodge, this made my lunchtimes feel particularly thrilling. I think the first person narrative make this book still exciting and enthralling even after all these years.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    There is little new that can be said about this classic SF novel, the first great invasion of Earth novel published by the father of the genre in 1898, and the precursor for so many that have followed since. This is, of course, a re-read, prompted by my having recently got into the mood by listening to Jeff Wayne's musical version, and watching both the 1953 George Pal film version (with excellent special effects for the time) and the 2005 Stephen Spielberg one (much better than I remembered from my first viewing). The description is dramatic and the imagery vivid, and in 1898 this would have been very graphic and, aside from the obvious features of the historical period, much of this reads like more recent science fiction novels in its uncompromising description of death, destruction and the worst of human behaviour as the massive tide of humanity escapes from the oncoming Martian war machines and their deadly heat-rays. The narrator, his wife and his brother are unnamed, as are the artilleryman and the curate, and there are very few named characters except for the astronomer Ogilvy and one or two others at the very beginning. This allows Wells to focus on the driving narrative. It is very short, only 141 pages, but this shows how a great novel does not need to be many hundreds of pages long. Tremendous stuff.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I enjoy the Orson Welles' Mercury Theater radio transcript quite a great deal, but this was boring in comparison. It feels more like a scientific observational record written in a poetic manner (think the British Romantic poets - Keats, Wordsworth, Blake, Byron - all reserved, yet flowery observation) than a personal/emotional memoir. The Romanticism style is great for an actual poem, but tedious and pretentious for prose. Either way, it's certainly a far cry from that soulless, brainless, action-piece Cruise and Spielberg crapped out a decade ago.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    One of the very earliest sci-fi stories, with the Martian invaders. Seems thin now - the famous radio play must have been well scripted to generate the realism to generate the mass panic.Read July 2006
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I loved War of the Worlds from start to finish! I guess it helped knowing the musical inside out (I love it!) even if there are some differences from the book.

    A strange cylinder lands on Horsell Common and hearing noises coming from it people who have gathered to witness the strange spectacle assume a man is trapped inside, but are driven back by the intense heat. What emerges from the cylinder, however, is something strange, terrifying and completely unwelcome – Martians. Further cylinders arrive and it soon becomes apparent that the Martians are intent on taking over earth – using humans as food. As panic ensues, the protagonist heads towards London – hoping to escape his almost certain fate. The narrator is full of despair as it seems that the earth is doomed, but when it seems that nothing can save the planet something completely unexpected happens that could change the situation for the better…

    What a great book. If you're not a particular fan of classics or sci-fi but are curious to try some then this would be an excellent place to start.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    H G Wells' War of The World - the book that spawned a thousand alien invasion movies, frequently featuring Will Smith wise-cracking his way through a bit of world-saving. From Independence Day to Mars Attacks!, the influence of the novel on the science fiction genre can not be underestimated.

    To call this a science fiction novel, though, is to miss a significant part of the subtext, the commentary on events in late 19th century Britain.

    Narrated by an unnamed protagonist, we see through his eyes the unfolding of events when Martians land on Earth, in southern England, from the initial curiosity of the indigenous population, to the fear and panic when they realise these alien creatures are intent on destruction, to the beginning of rebuilding when nature defeats the Martians. So far, so science fiction.

    But there are various themes that, for me, are far more important than the science fiction element. The book was written at a time when the British Empire was at its height; European countries had a habit of colonising overseas territories, imposing their laws and moral codes upon the indigenous populations. In War of the Worlds, an Imperial power itself becomes the victim of imperial aggression, allowing Wells, through the protagonist's thoughts, to dwell on this: 'I felt....a sense of dethronement, a persuasion that I was no longer a master, but an animal among animals. With us it would be as with them, to lurk an watch, to run and hide; the fear and empire of man had passed.'

    Then there is much on Darwinism, survival of the fittest and the process of evolution; the Martians are described as having large brains, being of very high intelligence, but lacking the ability to move any great distance without the aid of machinery. Written at a time when new technology was making travel easier, this could be a warning; are the Martians what, ultimately, humans could become?

    And there is some debate on Religion versus science. The protagonist is temporarily imprisoned with a curate, who's behaviour and views the protagonist has no time for. And yet, towards the end of the book, the protagonist thanks God for the turn of events: that the Martians were 'slain, after all man's devices had failed, by the humblest things that God, in his wisdom, has put upon this earth'

    War of the Worlds, read properly, is a thought-provoking novel, even now, more than 100 years after it was written - the themes it raises are still matters of much debate.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This is the first time that I have ever read the War of the Worlds. I have been meaning to for a while now, but just never quite got around to it.

    It is written as a narrative, from the perspective of one gentleman who lives very close to the landing site of the first Martian invader. He goes to see the landing site at Horsell sandpits, and is there when the first Martian attacks. Following more aggressive attacks from the invaders, he sends his wife of to Leatherhead to be with family, and he heads into London. He meets with various individuals, some of which he gets on with, and has to hide with a curate who he doesn't like much, as the Martians rampage across the south east.

    It is quite forward looking for a Victorian / Edwardian science fiction book. He is trying to describe lasers and other devices, but he does not have the technological vocabulary to describe them as we would now. The dialogue is quite stilted, but given the time this was written and set, I would not expect anything different. What Wells does manage to convey is the terror that the population, and himself and his companions experience, and the despair and helplessness that he feels.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A riveting tale, far more interesting and compelling than any of the film adaptations, and at 177 pages a real quick read too. Wells' masterful narrative is all the more terrifying because of the tone of the protagonist, which remains calm in the face of the rapid disintegration of his society and culture in the face of the seemingly unstoppable Martian onslaught.Along the way Wells takes up several themes that provide insights into the world of Late Victorian Britain (and - by extension - of Euro-American imperial civilization). In due course he condemns imperialism, the poverty of religion (through his extremely unflattering portrait of the curate), and the absurd persistence of vulgar Social Darwinism even in the face of potential extermination.War of the Worlds still has much to offer over a century after it was originally published, and I think this will continue to be the case in another century ... too bad I don't have a time machine to find out if I'm right!
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    This book is quite dated, and because of this I had a hard time sticking with it. H.G. Wells was a true visionary, but given more modern times where much of the science behind this book has been expanded, it appears more ridiculous with age. Concept is great, but his style of writing has lost its touch over time.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The funny thing is that the first time I ever read this classic was in Spanish. It made it a harder read but I really enjoyed it. The movie with Tom Cruise came after I read it and it was pretty freaky & scary. But anyway back to the book I would recommend the spanish version to any spanish readers who want to practice their vocabulary. It's not that hard and an interesting way to practice. I wish I knew of more scifi books in Spanish!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    These days it's very easy to be blasé about stories of aliens from Mars invading Earth, as we've seen so many films and heard countless tales such as this throughout the 20th century. However for a book that was written at the end of the 19th century, surely Wells deserves awe and respect for his work rather than complaints of it being 'dated for the modern reader'.It has a fantastic opening to the story that really makes you want to read on. There are so many ideas that the author tackles in such a short story such as war, destruction, survival, chaos, evolution, companionship (or lack of it). Wells also offers a little cautionary tale in not only the prospect that we could actually be destroyed by an intelligence from another planet, but the fact that we are destroying our own world and it's inhabitants.... "And before we judge them [the Martians] too harshly, we must remember what ruthless and utter destruction our own species has wrought, not only upon animals, such as the vanished Bison and the Dodo, but upon its own inferior races. The Tasmanians, in spite of their human likeness, were entirely swept out of existence in a war of extermination waged by European immigrants, in the space of fifty years. Are we such apostles of mercy as to complain if the Martians warred in the same spirit?"The only downside is that Wells leaves a few unanswered threads to the story.It's exciting, fun and it raises questions about the human race. As usual, H.G Wells is very much ahead of his time. - That's why we are still making films and adaptations of his stories!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The inspiration for just about any alien invasion story since (Think the mini-series "V"); There are a lot of holes; character development is pretty thin, there aren't a lot of human relationship threads, and some plotlines simply disappear without resolution or explanation. The book is mostly a description of what the narrator sees and not necessarily what he thinks or feels.Like most fiction it's simply O.K.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    In this book, H.G. Wells takes on the life of a well-educated British man living in the suburbs of London during the 1800's. His world, as well as his morals and ideas, are turned suddenly up-side down as Martians come to take over the Earth.This book was very interesting and raised the moral question of Are Humans the Superior Beings? Would we kill another "inferior species" to save our own? I would definetly put this on your list of books to read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I like Im sure many others have probably read this book on the back of owning or at least listening to Jeff Waynes musical version. Much to my dissappoinment there is no audio book narrated by Richard Burton, which if Im honest I would have bought insead of the book its self if such a thing exsisted. The whole book was read in Richard Burtons voice in my head as a result!. Certainly food for thought, and reading the book reminds you when it was actually set. I always had the mental image if it being much more modern thanks to Waynes creativity. Nevertheless a rare and enjoyable dabble with fiction for me
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    There is a reason this is a classic. It is evocative and thought provoking. Read the book and then listen to the radio broadcast. You'll never be quite the same.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    One of my favourite books, and therefore, I thought, worthy of my first review on LibraryThing. Written at a time when books dealing with an invasion of Britain were popular, whether by Germans (such as in the BATTLE OF DORKING), French or aliens, War of the Worlds tells the story of an alien invasion with brilliant detail and vivid descriptions. When strange gases are spotted appearing from Mars, few suspect that these are the launches of alien orbs, heading for Earth. A year later, they impact near Horsell, England and the creatures emerge from their shells. A truly fantastical read, truly unputdownable.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Wells does an amazing job of making the alien invasion sound so very realistic, using a precise semiscientific tone which reminds one of the later work of H. P. Lovecraft. His reference to imaginary texts is particularly apt for the process. I thought I knew all about the book since I knew the basic plotline, but it was still a very interesting read -- and a good example of Lovecraft's "literature of cosmic fear," that fear which comes about when humanity realizes its insignificance in the universe. This only falls apart at the very end. Wells seems to have been particularly prophetic in his descriptions of poison gas, more than a decade before chlorine was used in World War I. The social commentary was also very interesting -- it is clear that his Martians are exactly what he can see men becoming. I can see parallels with The Time Traveller.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Very easy to read and exceptionally well written. This is a novel that each generation can take something different from. I liked the descriptions of many of the Victorians as the spaceships came from the sky – such a solid British image of “they won’t make me leave home”. An image I could vividly imagine. It’s a short read that has packed a lot into it. Words aren’t wasted, which is why it is the length it is. I’m sure HG Wells could easily have added more description but it wasn’t necessary. A fabulous story.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    While I have had many exposures to this sort of story, this is the first time I've gotten around to reading the original alien invasion novel. Greatly enjoyed it. The contrast over time between this Victorian novel and later stories in the details (rather than the overarching aspects) made it even more interesting. I preferred it to the 1930's broadcast. One flaw that did annoy me was the way the narrator's brother appeared and vanished with no explanation from the narrative.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Most interesting thing about this book is the style: It doesn't read very much as a normal novel would - the famous ending is not one of exciting climax, but just eventual resolution - yet this rather works in its favor, as one gets the sense of the reportage of an actual war. It does get a little dry at times, but in other cases - such as the main character being trapped in a ruined house for two weeks, starving, with the Martians stationed right outside - it effectively conveys a real sense of suspense and dread.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This is a good old fashioned yarn. I read the book through in one or two sittings. HG created a sense of menace and despair through the book, which I loved. His descriptions were evocative of the times, and I could almost visualize the destruction taking place, as the book weaved along. The writing is, for our times, old fashioned, yet timeless. The almost forgotten craft of writing is something that was displayed through the book. I lost the part where the Martians were 'destroyed'. It would have been really nice to have had a nice description of this, but you can't have everything in life!If you want a good book to read by the fireside, then this is one I can recommend.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    When an unidentified object lands just south of London, residents are left dumbfounded. Could it really be aliens from Mars? When actual aliens emerge from the pods, all of London is left running for its collective life as the aliens begin a methodical destruction of the planet. We follow the narrator as he makes his way back to his wife, suffering under the trampling of the Martians and witnessing horrors he never imagined possible. The War of the Worlds is written as if it were a factual account of the narrator’s experiences. I liked that. It takes what could be a basic story and makes it feel very visceral. It did annoy me that I knew absolutely nothing about the narrator beside the fact that he was a scientist and was married. He does recount one part of the story as a second hand account from his brother but that’s all you get to know about him. I found that frustrating.I did find this story much more interesting than The Time Machine and I think that had to do with the fact that there was a lot more action. In parts of The Time Machine, it felt as if little was happening but in The War of the Worlds, it was all action all the time. I do wish, and this goes for both books, that Wells had taken a few minutes to name his narrators; a pet peeve of mine. The intense dislike I had for The Time Machine didn’t appear when reading The War of the Worlds, in fact, I liked it better but if I had put this book down at any point, the possibly that I wouldn’t have picked it back up was there.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Everyone knows this is about the Martians invading. Most people probably know even more of the plot from having seen various film adaptations. I haven't seen any of them, but even so I had a good idea of what the aliens looked like before I even opened the book (and not just because the cover of my edition has illustrations of them done by Edward Gorey). So I'll just go over the outline - Martians land on earth, Martians kill everything in sight with some combination of heat ray, poison gas, and feeding habits, humans are resigned to total domination, the end of the book offers some uncertain reprieve.With that over, let's talk about the themes explored in the book. Much like The Time Machine, Wells has opinions on man's fate that aren't all that positive. Hubris is obviously one of man's biggest failings, in Wells' view, both for thinking that we are alone in the universe, and for thinking that getting rid of extraterrestrial invaders will be an easy task. Parallels are also drawn between man's dominion over the animals and finding the shoe on the other foot as Martians gain dominance on earth. Ultimately, the book seems to say that problems exist for which humans aren't going to have the answers, and we'd better hope that the planet itself can rescue us.Recommended for: fans of future tech and/or Martians, microbiologists, anyone who's ever wondered if, in the event of an invasion, the English would offer tea to the interlopers.Quote: "At the time there was a strong feeling in the streets that the authorities were to blame for their incapacity to dispose of the invaders without all this inconvenience."

Book preview

The War of The Worlds - A Science Fiction Classic (Complete Edition) - H. G. Wells

CHAPTER ONE

The Eve Of The War

Table of Contents

No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over this globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire over matter. It is possible that the infusoria under the microscope do the same. No one gave a thought to the older worlds of space as sources of human danger, or thought of them only to dismiss the idea of life upon them as impossible or improbable. It is curious to recall some of the mental habits of those departed days. At most terrestrial men fancied there might be other men upon Mars, perhaps inferior to themselves and ready to welcome a missionary enterprise. Yet across the gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. And early in the twentieth century came the great disillusionment.

The planet Mars, I scarcely need remind the reader, revolves about the sun at a mean distance of 140,000,000 miles, and the light and heat it receives from the sun is barely half of that received by this world. It must be, if the nebular hypothesis has any truth, older than our world; and long before this earth ceased to be molten, life upon its surface must have begun its course. The fact that it is scarcely one seventh of the volume of the earth must have accelerated its cooling to the temperature at which life could begin. It has air and water and all that is necessary for the support of animated existence.

Yet so vain is man, and so blinded by his vanity, that no writer, up to the very end of the nineteenth century, expressed any idea that intelligent life might have developed there far, or indeed at all, beyond its earthly level. Nor was it generally understood that since Mars is older than our earth, with scarcely a quarter of the superficial area and remoter from the sun, it necessarily follows that it is not only more distant from time’s beginning but nearer its end.

The secular cooling that must someday overtake our planet has already gone far indeed with our neighbour. Its physical condition is still largely a mystery, but we know now that even in its equatorial region the midday temperature barely approaches that of our coldest winter. Its air is much more attenuated than ours, its oceans have shrunk until they cover but a third of its surface, and as its slow seasons change huge snowcaps gather and melt about either pole and periodically inundate its temperate zones. That last stage of exhaustion, which to us is still incredibly remote, has become a presentday problem for the inhabitants of Mars. The immediate pressure of necessity has brightened their intellects, enlarged their powers, and hardened their hearts. And looking across space with instruments, and intelligences such as we have scarcely dreamed of, they see, at its nearest distance only 35,000,000 of miles sunward of them, a morning star of hope, our own warmer planet, green with vegetation and grey with water, with a cloudy atmosphere eloquent of fertility, with glimpses through its drifting cloud wisps of broad stretches of populous country and narrow, navy-crowded seas.

And we men, the creatures who inhabit this earth, must be to them at least as alien and lowly as are the monkeys and lemurs to us. The intellectual side of man already admits that life is an incessant struggle for existence, and it would seem that this too is the belief of the minds upon Mars. Their world is far gone in its cooling and this world is still crowded with life, but crowded only with what they regard as inferior animals. To carry warfare sunward is, indeed, their only escape from the destruction that, generation after generation, creeps upon them.

And before we judge of them too harshly we must remember what ruthless and utter destruction our own species has wrought, not only upon animals, such as the vanished bison and the dodo, but upon its inferior races. The Tasmanians, in spite of their human likeness, were entirely swept out of existence in a war of extermination waged by European immigrants, in the space of fifty years. Are we such apostles of mercy as to complain if the Martians warred in the same spirit?

The Martians seem to have calculated their descent with amazing subtlety — their mathematical learning is evidently far in excess of ours — and to have carried out their preparations with a wellnigh perfect unanimity. Had our instruments permitted it, we might have seen the gathering trouble far back in the nineteenth century. Men like Schiaparelli watched the red planet — it is odd, by-the-bye, that for countless centuries Mars has been the star of war — but failed to interpret the fluctuating appearances of the markings they mapped so well. All that time the Martians must have been getting ready.

During the opposition of 1894 a great light was seen on the illuminated part of the disk, first at the Lick Observatory, then by Perrotin of Nice, and then by other observers. English readers heard of it first in the issue of Nature dated August 2. I am inclined to think that this blaze may have been the casting of the huge gun, in the vast pit sunk into their planet, from which their shots were fired at us. Peculiar markings, as yet unexplained, were seen near the site of that outbreak during the next two oppositions.

The storm burst upon us six years ago now. As Mars approached opposition, Lavelle of Java set the wires of the astronomical exchange palpitating with the amazing intelligence of a huge outbreak of incandescent gas upon the planet. It had occurred towards midnight of the twelfth; and the spectroscope, to which he had at once resorted, indicated a mass of flaming gas, chiefly hydrogen, moving with an enormous velocity towards this earth. This jet of fire had become invisible about a quarter past twelve. He compared it to a colossal puff of flame suddenly and violently squirted out of the planet, as flaming gases rushed out of a gun.

A singularly appropriate phrase it proved. Yet the next day there was nothing of this in the papers except a little note in the Daily Telegraph, and the world went in ignorance of one of the gravest dangers that ever threatened the human race. I might not have heard of the eruption at all had I not met Ogilvy, the well-known astronomer, at Ottershaw. He was immensely excited at the news, and in the excess of his feelings invited me up to take a turn with him that night in a scrutiny of the red planet.

In spite of all that has happened since, I still remember that vigil very distinctly: the black and silent observatory, the shadowed lantern throwing a feeble glow upon the floor in the corner, the steady ticking of the clockwork of the telescope, the little slit in the roof — an oblong profundity with the stardust streaked across it. Ogilvy moved about, invisible but audible. Looking through the telescope, one saw a circle of deep blue and the little round planet swimming in the field. It seemed such a little thing, so bright and small and still, faintly marked with transverse stripes, and slightly flattened from the perfect round. But so little it was, so silvery warm — a pin’s-head of light! It was as if it quivered, but really this was the telescope vibrating with the activity of the clockwork that kept the planet in view.

As I watched, the planet seemed to grow larger and smaller and to advance and recede, but that was simply that my eye was tired. Forty millions of miles it was from us — more than forty millions of miles of void. Few people realise the immensity of vacancy in which the dust of the material universe swims.

Near it in the field, I remember, were three faint points of light, three telescopic stars infinitely remote, and all around it was the unfathomable darkness of empty space. You know how that blackness looks on a frosty starlight night. In a telescope it seems far profounder. And invisible to me because it was so remote and small, flying swiftly and steadily towards me across that incredible distance, drawing nearer every minute by so many thousands of miles, came the Thing they were sending us, the Thing that was to bring so much struggle and calamity and death to the earth. I never dreamed of it then as I watched; no one on earth dreamed of that unerring missile.

That night, too, there was another jetting out of gas from the distant planet. I saw it. A reddish flash at the edge, the slightest projection of the outline just as the chronometer struck midnight; and at that I told Ogilvy and he took my place. The night was warm and I was thirsty, and I went stretching my legs clumsily and feeling my way in the darkness, to the little table where the siphon stood, while Ogilvy exclaimed at the streamer of gas that came out towards us.

That night another invisible missile started on its way to the earth from Mars, just a second or so under twenty-four hours after the first one. I remember how I sat on the table there in the blackness, with patches of green and crimson swimming before my eyes. I wished I had a light to smoke by, little suspecting the meaning of the minute gleam I had seen and all that it would presently bring me. Ogilvy watched till one, and then gave it up; and we lit the lantern and walked over to his house. Down below in the darkness were Ottershaw and Chertsey and all their hundreds of people, sleeping in peace.

He was full of speculation that night about the condition of Mars, and scoffed at the vulgar idea of its having inhabitants who were signalling us. His idea was that meteorites might be falling in a heavy shower upon the planet, or that a huge volcanic explosion was in progress. He pointed out to me how unlikely it was that organic evolution had taken the same direction in the two adjacent planets.

The chances against anything manlike on Mars are a million to one, he said.

Hundreds of observers saw the flame that night and the night after about midnight, and again the night after; and so for ten nights, a flame each night. Why the shots ceased after the tenth no one on earth has attempted to explain. It may be the gases of the firing caused the Martians inconvenience. Dense clouds of smoke or dust, visible through a powerful telescope on earth as little grey, fluctuating patches, spread through the clearness of the planet’s atmosphere and obscured its more familiar features.

Even the daily papers woke up to the disturbances at last, and popular notes appeared here, there, and everywhere concerning the volcanoes upon Mars. The seriocomic periodical ‘Punch’, I remember, made a happy use of it in the political cartoon. And, all unsuspected, those missiles the Martians had fired at us drew earthward, rushing now at a pace of many miles a second through the empty gulf of space, hour by hour and day by day, nearer and nearer. It seems to me now almost incredibly wonderful that, with that swift fate hanging over us, men could go about their petty concerns as they did. I remember how jubilant Markham was at securing a new photograph of the planet for the illustrated paper he edited in those days. People in these latter times scarcely realise the abundance and enterprise of our nineteenth-century papers. For my own part, I was much occupied in learning to ride the bicycle, and busy upon a series of papers discussing the probable developments of moral ideas as civilisation progressed.

One night (the first missile then could scarcely have been 10,000,000 miles away) I went for a walk with my wife. It was starlight and I explained the Signs of the Zodiac to her, and pointed out Mars, a bright dot of light creeping zenithward, towards which so many telescopes were pointed. It was a warm night. Coming home, a party of excursionists from Chertsey or Isleworth passed us singing and playing music. There were lights in the upper windows of the houses as the people went to bed. From the railway station in the distance came the sound of shunting trains, ringing and rumbling, softened almost into melody by the distance. My wife pointed out to me the brightness of the red, green, and yellow signal lights hanging in a framework against the sky. It seemed so safe and tranquil.

CHAPTER TWO

The Falling Star

Table of Contents

Then came the night of the first falling star. It was seen early in the morning, rushing over Winchester eastward, a line of flame high in the atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it, and taken it for an ordinary falling star. Albin described it as leaving a greenish streak behind it that glowed for some seconds. Denning, our greatest authority on meteorites, stated that the height of its first appearance was about ninety or one hundred miles. It seemed to him that it fell to earth about one hundred miles east of him.

I was at home at that hour and writing in my study; and although my French windows face towards Ottershaw and the blind was up (for I loved in those days to look up at the night sky), I saw nothing of it. Yet this strangest of all things that ever came to earth from outer space must have fallen while I was sitting there, visible to me had I only looked up as it passed. Some of those who saw its flight say it travelled with a hissing sound. I myself heard nothing of that. Many people in Berkshire, Surrey, and Middlesex must have seen the fall of it, and, at most, have thought that another meteorite had descended. No one seems to have troubled to look for the fallen mass that night.

But very early in the morning poor Ogilvy, who had seen the shooting star and who was persuaded that a meteorite lay somewhere on the common between Horsell, Ottershaw, and Woking, rose early with the idea of finding it. Find it he did, soon after dawn, and not far from the sand pits. An enormous hole had been made by the impact of the projectile, and the sand and gravel had been flung violently in every direction over the heath, forming heaps visible a mile and a half away. The heather was on fire eastward, and a thin blue smoke rose against the dawn.

The Thing itself lay almost entirely buried in sand, amidst the scattered splinters of a fir tree it had shivered to fragments in its descent. The uncovered part had the appearance of a huge cylinder, caked over and its outline softened by a thick scaly dun-coloured incrustation. It had a diameter of about thirty yards. He approached the mass, surprised at the size and more so at the shape, since most meteorites are rounded more or less completely. It was, however, still so hot from its flight through the air as to forbid his near approach. A stirring noise within its cylinder he ascribed to the unequal cooling of its surface; for at that time it had not occurred to him that it might be hollow.

He remained standing at the edge of the pit that the Thing had made for itself, staring at its strange appearance, astonished chiefly at its unusual shape and colour, and dimly perceiving even then some evidence of design in its arrival. The early morning was wonderfully still, and the sun, just clearing the pine trees towards Weybridge, was already warm. He did not remember hearing any birds that morning, there was certainly no breeze stirring, and the only sounds were the faint movements from within the cindery cylinder. He was all alone on the common.

Then suddenly he noticed with a start that some of the grey clinker, the ashy incrustation that covered the meteorite, was falling off the circular edge of the end. It was dropping off in flakes and raining down upon the sand. A large piece suddenly came off and fell with a sharp noise that brought his heart into his mouth.

For a minute he scarcely realised what this meant, and, although the heat was excessive, he clambered down into the pit close to the bulk to see the Thing more clearly. He fancied even then that the cooling of the body might account for this, but what disturbed that idea was the fact that the ash was falling only from the end of the cylinder.

And then he perceived that, very slowly, the circular top of the cylinder was rotating on its body. It was such a gradual movement that he discovered it only through noticing that a black mark that had been near him five minutes ago was now at the other side of the circumference. Even then he scarcely understood what this indicated, until he heard a muffled grating sound and saw the black mark jerk forward an inch or so. Then the thing came upon him in a flash. The cylinder was artificial — hollow — with an end that screwed out! Something within the cylinder was unscrewing the top!

Good heavens! said Ogilvy. "There’s a man in it

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