While we were talking, the slave people were carrying away the remains of the meal, but suddenly all activities were halted by an outburst of sound: the most horrible, high-pitched siren, echoing around the inside of the hall.
Amelia had gone very pale, and she turned away and walked into her private area. I followed her inside, and found her in tears.
“That call,” I said. “Does it mean what I think?”
“They have come for their food,” Amelia said, and her sobs were renewed.
iv
I will not recount the ghastliness of the scene that followed, but it should be said that the slaves had devised a system of lots, and the six hapless losers went to the killing-cubicle in silence.
Amelia explained that, she had not expected the monsters to visit the slave-camps tonight. There were many dead scattered about the weed-bank, and she had hoped that the monsters would have drained these bodies for their nightly repast.
v
Edwina came to see Amelia and me.
“We would like to hear the adventures of the pale dwarf,” she said to Amelia. “It would make us happy.”
“Does she mean I have to address them?” I said. “I should not know what to say. And how would they understand me?”
“It is expected of you. Your arrival was spectacular, and they want to hear it in your own words. Edwina will interpret for you.”
“Have you done this?”
She nodded. “I was told about this ritual when I was teaching Edwina to speak English. When she had mastered enough vocabulary, we rehearsed a little speech and from that day I was accepted as their leader. You will not be fully acknowledged by them until you have done it too.”
I said: “But how much should I tell them? Have you told them we are from Earth?”
“I felt they would not understand, and so I have not. Earth is mentioned in their legends—they call it the ‘warm world’—but only as a celestial body. So I have not revealed my origins. Incidentally, Edward, I think it is time you and I recognized that we shall never again see Earth. There is no means of return. Since I have been here I have been reconciled to that. We are both Martians now.”
I pondered this in silence. It was not a notion I cared for, but I understood what Amelia meant. While we clung to a false hope we should never settle.
Finally, I said: “Then I will tell them how I flew in the projectile, how I mounted the watch-tower and how I disposed of the monster.”
“I think, Edward, that as you are fulfilling a mythic prophecy, you should find a stronger verb than ‘dispose’.”
“Would Edwina understand?”
“If you accompany your words with the appropriate actions.”
“But they have already seen me leave the tower covered in blood!”
“It is the telling of the tale that is important. Just repeat to them what you told me.”
Edwina was looking as happy as any Martian I had ever seen.
“We will hear the adventures now?” she said.
“I suppose so,” I said. We stood up and followed Edwina into the main part of the hall. Several of the hammocks had been moved away, and all the slaves were sitting on the floor. As we appeared they climbed to their feet, and started to jump up and down. It was a rather comical action—and one not wholly reassuring—but Amelia whispered to me that this was their sign of enthusiasm.
I noticed that there were about half a dozen of the city-Martians present, standing at the back of the hall. They were clearly not yet at one with the slaves, but at least the sense of intimidation we had seen in Desolation City was absent.
Amelia quietened the crowd by raising her hand and spreading her fingers When they were silent, she said: “My people. Today we saw the killing of one of the tyrants by this man. He is here now to describe his adventures in his own words.”
As she spoke, Edwina translated simultaneously by uttering a few syllables, and accompanying them with elaborate hand signs. As they both finished, the slaves jumped up and down again, emitting a high-pitched whining noise. It was most disconcerting, and appeared to have no end.
Amelia whispered to me: “Raise your hand.”
I was regretting having agreed to this, but I raised my hand and to my surprise silence fell at once. I regarded these queer folk—these tall, hot-coloured alien beings amongst whom fate had cast our lot, and with whom our future now lay—and tried to find the words with which to begin. The silence persisted, and with some diffidence I described how I had been put aboard the projectile. Immediately, Edwina accompanied my words with her weird interpretation.
I began hesitantly, not sure of how much I should say The audience remained silent. As I warmed to my story, and found opportunities for description, Edwina’s interpretation became more florid, and thus encouraged I indulged myself in a little exaggeration.
My description of the battle became a clashing of metallic giants, a pandemonium of hideous screams and a veritable storm of blazing heat-beams. At this, I saw that several of the slaves had risen, and were jumping up and down enthusiastically. As I came to the point in the story where I realized that the monster was turning its heat-beam onto the people, the whole audience was on its feet and Edwina was signing most dramatically.
Perhaps in this telling rather more tentacles were hacked away than there had been in actuality, and perhaps it seemed more difficult to kill the beast than had been my experience, but I felt obliged to remain true to the spirit of the occasion rather than satisfy the demands of scrupulous authenticity.
I finished my story to a splendid cheer from the audience, and a most remarkable display of leaping. I glanced at Amelia to see her reaction, but before we had a chance to speak we were both mobbed by the crowd. The Martians surrounded us, jostling and thumping us gently, in what I interpreted as further enthusiasms. We were being propelled steadily and firmly towards Amelia’s private quarters, and as we came to where the hammocks had been slung to form the partition, the noise reached its climax. After a little more genial pummelling, we were thrust together through the partition.
At once, the noise outside subsided.
I was still buoyed up by the reception I had been given, and swept Amelia into my arms. She was as excited as I, and responded to my kisses with great warmth and affection.
As our kissing became prolonged I found rising in me those natural desires I had had to suppress for so long, and so, reluctantly, I turned my face away from hers and loosened my hold, expecting her to draw away. Instead, she held me tightly, pressing her face into the hollow of my neck.
Beyond the partition I could hear the slaves. They seemed to be singing now, a high, tuneless crooning noise, It was very restful and strangely pleasant.
“What do we do next?” I said after several minutes had passed.
Amelia did not reply at once.
Then she held me more tightly, and said: “Do you need to be told, Edward?”
I felt myself blushing.
“I meant, is there any more ceremonial we must observe?” I said.
“Only what is expected of us in legend. On the night the pale dwarf descends from the tower…” She whispered the rest in my ear.
She could not see my face, so I clenched my eyes tightly closed, almost breathless with excitement!
“Amelia, we cannot. We are not married.”
It was my last concession to the conventions that had ruled my life.
“We are Martians now,” Amelia said. “We do not observe marriage.”
And so, as the Martian slaves sang in their high, melancholy voices beyond the hanging partition, we abandoned all that remained within us of our Englishness and Earthliness; and became, through that night, committed to our new rôles and lives as leaders of the oppressed Martian peoples.