As I reached the ground and turned, I saw that a huge crowd of the slaves had watched my descent and were waiting to greet me. I took the bag from around my neck, and stepped towards them. At once they moved back nervously, and I heard their voices twittering in alarm. Glancing down at myself I saw that my clothes and skin were soaked with the blood of the monster, and in the few minutes I had been in the sunlight the radiant heat had dried the mess and an unpleasant smell was exuding.
The slaves regarded me in silence.
Then I saw that one slave in particular was struggling through the crowd towards me, pushing the others aside in her haste. I saw that she was shorter than the rest, and fairer of skin. Although she was caked in the mud of the weed-bank, and raggedly dressed, I saw that her eyes were blue, and bright with tears, and her hair tumbled around her shoulders.
Amelia, my lovely Amelia, rushed forward and embraced me with such violence that I was nearly toppled from my feet!
“Edward!” she shouted deliriously, covering my face with kisses. “’Oh, Edward! How brave you were!”
I was overcome with such excitement and emotion that I could hardly speak. Then at last I managed a sentence, choking it out through my tears of joy.
“I’ve still got your bag,” I said.
It was all I could think to say.
Chapter Fourteen
IN THE SLAVE-CAMP
i
Amelia was safe, and I was safe! Life was to be lived again! We disregarded everything and everyone around us; ignored the malodorous condition we were both in; forgot the encircling, curious Martian slaves. The mysteries and dangers of this world were of no consequence, for we were together again!
We stood in each other’s arms for many minutes, saying nothing. We wept a little, and we held each other so tight that I thought we might never separate but become fused in one single organism of undistilled joy.
We could not,of course, stand like that forever, and the interruption was approaching even as we embraced. Soon we could not ignore the warning voices of the slaves around us, and we pulled reluctantly apart, still holding each other’s hand.
Glancing towards the distant city I saw that one of the huge battle-machines was striding across the desert towards us.
Amelia looked about the slaves.
“Edwina?” she called. “Are you there?”
In a moment a young, female Martian stepped forward. She was no, more than a child, roughly equivalent to about twelve Earth years old.
She said (or at least it sounded as if she said): “Yes, Amelia?”
“Tell the others to go back to work quickly. We will return to the camp.”
The little girl turned to the other slaves, made some intricate hand and head signs (accompanied by a few of the high, sibilant words), and within seconds the crowd was dispersing.
“Come along, Edward,” said Amelia.: “The thing in that machine will want to know how the monster was killed.”
I followed her as she strode towards a long, dark building set near the weed-bank. After a moment, one of the city-Martians appeared and fell in beside us. He was carrying one of the electrical whips.
Amelia noticed the askance expression with which I registered this.
“Don’t worry, Edward,” she said. “’He won’t hurt us.”
“Are you sure?”
In answer, Amelia held out her hand and the Martian passed her the whip. She took it carefully, held it out for me to see, then returned it.
“We are no longer in Desolation City. I have established a new social order for the slaves.”
“So it would appear,” I said. “’Who is Edwina?”
“One of the children She is naturally adept at languages—most young Martians are—and so I have taught her the rudiments of English.”
I was going to ask more, but the ferocious pace Amelia was setting in this thin air was making me breathless.
We came to the building, and at the doorway I paused to stare back. The battle-machine had stopped by the crippled tower on which I had ridden, and was examining it.
There were four short corridors into the building, and inside I was relieved to find that it was pressurized. The city-Martian walked away and left us, while I found myself coughing uncontrollably after the exertions of our walk. When I had recovered I embraced Amelia once more, still unable to believe the good fortune that had reunited us. She returned my embraces no less warmly, but after a moment drew away.
“My dear, we are both filthy. We can wash here.”
“I should very much like a change of clothes,” I said.
“There is no chance of that,” Amelia said. “You will have to wash your clothes as you wash yourself.”
She led me to an area of the building where there was an arrangement of overhead pipes. At the turn of a tap, a shower of liquid—which was not water, but probably a diluted solution of the sap—issued forth. Amelia explained that all the slaves used these baths after work, then she went away to use another in private.
Although the flow of liquid was cold I drenched myself luxuriously, taking off my clothes and wringing them to free them of the last vestiges of the foul fluids they had absorbed.
When I considered neither I nor my clothes could be any further cleansed, I turned off the flow and squeezed my clothes, trying to dry them. I pulled on my trousers, but the cloth was dank and heavy and felt most uncomfortable. Dressed like this I went in search of Amelia.
There was a large metal grille set in One of the walls just beyond the bathing area. Amelia stood before it, holding out her ragged garment to dry it. At once I turned away.
“Bring your clothes here, Edward,” she said.
“When you have finished,” I said, trying not to reveal by the sound of my voice that I had noticed she was completely unclad.
She placed her garment on the floor, and walked over and stood facing me.
“Edward, we are no longer in England,” she said. “You will contract pneumonia if you wear damp clothes.”
“They will dry in time.”
“In this climate you will be seriously ill before then. It takes only a few minutes to dry them this way.”
She went past. me into the bathing area, and came back with the remainder of my clothes.
“I will dry my trousers later,” I said.
“You will dry them now,” she replied.
I stood in consternation for a moment, then reluctantly removed my trousers. Holding them before me, in such a way that I was still covered, I allowed the draught of warmth to blow over them. We stood a little apart, and although I was determined not to gaze immodestly at Amelia, the very presence of the girl who meant so much to me, and with whom I. had suffered so much, made it impossible not to glance her way several times. She was so. beautiful, and, unclad as she was, she bore herself with grace and propriety, rendering innocent a situation which would have scandalized the most forward-looking of our neighbours on Earth. My inhibitions waned, and after a few minutes I could contain my impulses no more.
I dropped the garment I was holding, went quickly to her, then took her in my arms and we kissed passionately for a minute or more.
ii
We were virtually alone in the building. It was still two hours before sunset, and the slaves would not return before then. When our clothes had dried, and we had put them on again, Amelia took me around the building to show me how the slaves were housed. Their conditions were primitive and without convenience: the hammocks were hard and cramped, what food there was had to be eaten raw, and nowhere was there any possibility of privacy.