“Good-bye, Amelia,” she said, then turned her back and walked through the doorway.
“That was a cool farewell,” I said. “Considering you are the leader of the revolution.”
“I don’t understand, Edward.”
“Neither do I. I think we must get to the projectile without further delay.”
v
We approached the battle-machines with considerable trepidation, fearing the worst with every step. But we went unmolested, and soon we had passed beneath the high platforms and were walking up the extension towards the cannon-site.
A deep mistrust of the situation. was growing in me, and I was dreading the fact that soon we should have to pass beneath the scrutiny of the monsters who guarded the entrance. My feeling of unease was increased when, a few minutes later, we heard more explosions from the city, and saw several of the battle-machines dashing about the streets with their cannons flaring.
“I wonder,” I said, “if our part in the revolt is now suspected. Your young friend was remarkably reluctant to be with us.”
“She does not have one of these uniforms.”
“That’s true,” I said, but I was still not at ease.
The entrance to the cannon-site was nearly upon us, and the great sheds were looming up.
At the last moment, when we were no more than five yards from the monsters’ observation-seats, we saw one of the two young Martians I’d been with the previous day. We went directly to him. There was an empty vehicle by the roadway, and we went around the back of it with him.
Once away from the sight of the monster-creatures at the gate, he launched into a most expressive foray of sibilance and expository gestures.
“What’s he saying?” I said to Amelia.
“I haven’t the faintest notion.”
We waited until he had finished, and then he stared at us as if awaiting a response. He was about to start his tirade again, when Amelia indicated the cannon-site.
“May we go in?” she said, evidently working on the assumption that if he could speak his language to us, we could speak ours to him, but assisting him by pointing towards the site.
His reply was not understood.
“Do you think he said yes?” I said.
“There is only one way to tell.”
Amelia raised her hand to him, then walked towards the entrance. I followed, and we both glanced back to see if this action provoked a negative response. He appeared to be making no move to stop us, but raised his hand in greeting, and so we walked on.
Now determined to see this through, we were past the monsters’ observation panels almost before we realized it. However, a few paces further on a screech from one of the positions chilled our blood. We had been spotted.
We both halted, and at once I found I was trembling. Amelia had paled.
The screech came again, and was then repeated.
“Edward… we must walk on!”
“But we have been challenged!” I cried.
“We do not know what for. We can only walk on.”
So, expecting at best another bestial screech, or at worst to be smitten by the heat-beam, we stepped on towards the snow-cannon.
Miraculously, there was no further challenge.
vi
We were now almost running, for our objective was in sight. We passed through the ranks of waiting projectiles, and headed for the breech of the mighty cannon. Amelia, whose first visit to the site this was, could hardly believe what she saw.
“There are so many!” she said, gasping with the exertion of hurrying up the gradient of the mountain slope.
“It is to be a full-scale invasion,” I said. “We cannot allow these monsters to attack Earth.”
During my visit the day before, the activities of the monsters had been confined to the area where the machines were assembled, and this store of gleaming projectiles had been left unattended. Now, though, there were the monsters and their vehicles all about. We hurried on, unchallenged.
There was no sign of any humans, although I had been told that by the time we entered the projectile our friends would be in charge of the device which fired the cannon. I hoped that word of our arrival had been passed, for I did not wish to wait too long inside the projectile itself.
The companionway was still in place, and I led Amelia up it to the entrance to the inner chamber. Such was our haste that when one of the monster-creatures by the base of the companionway uttered a series of modulated screeches, we paid no attention to it. We were now so close to our objective, so near to the instrument of our return to Earth, that we felt nothing could bar our way.
I stood back to allow Amelia to go first, but she pointed out that it would be sensible for me to lead. This I did, heading down that dark, frigid tunnel through the breech-block, away from the wan sunlight of Mars.
The hatch of the ship was open, and this time Amelia did go in before me. She stepped down the ramp into the heart of the projectile, while I attended to closing the hatch as I’d been shown. Now we were inside, away from the noises and enigmas of the Martian civilization, I suddenly felt very calm and purposeful.
This spacious interior, quiet, dimly lit, quite empty, was another world from that city and its beleaguered peoples; this craft, product of the most ruthless intellect in the Universe, was our salvation and home.
Once it would have been in the van of a terrible invasion of Earth; now, in the safe charge of Amelia and myself, it could become our world’s salvation. It was a prize of war, a war of which even now the peoples of Earth were quite unsuspecting.
I checked the hatch once more, making certain that it was quite secure, then took Amelia in my arms and kissed her lightly.
She said: “The craft is awfully big, Edward. Are you sure you know what to do?”
“Leave it to me.”
For once my confidence was not assumed. Once before I had made a reckless act to avert an evil destiny, and now again I saw destiny as being in my own hands. So much depended on my skills and actions, and the responsibility of my homeworld’s future lay on my shoulders. It could not be that I should fail!
I led Amelia up the sloping floor of the cabin, and showed her the pressure tubes that would support and protect us during the firing of the cannon. I judged it best that we should enter them at once, for we had no way of telling when our friends outside would fire the craft. In the confused situation, events were unpredictable.
Amelia stepped into her own tube, and I watched as the eerie substance folded itself about her.
“Can you breathe?” I said to her.
“Yes.” Her voice was muffled, but quite audible. “How do I climb out of this? I feel I am imprisoned.”
“You simply step forward,” I said. “it willnot resist unless we are under acceleration.”
Inside her transparent tube Amelia smiled to show she understood, and so I moved back to my own tube. Here I squeezed past the controls which were placed within easy reach, then felt the soft fabric closing in on me. When my body was contained I allowed myself to relax, and waited for the launch to begin.
A long time passed. There was nothing to do but stare across the few feet that separated us, and watch Amelia and smile to her. We could hear each other if we spoke, but the effort was considerable.
The first hint of vibration, when it came, was so minute as to be attributable to the imagination, but it was followed a few moments later by another. Then there came a sudden jolt, and I felt the folds of fabric tightening about my body.
“We are moving, Amelia!” I shouted, but needlessly, for there was no mistaking what was happening.
After the first concussion there followed several more, of increasing severity, but after a while the motion became smooth and the acceleration steady. The fabric tube was clutching me like a giant hand, but even so I could feel the pressure of our speed against me, far greater than I had experienced on the smaller craft. Furthermore, the period of acceleration was much longer, presumably because of the immense length of the barrel. There was now a noise, the like of which was quite unprecedented: a great rushing and roaring, as the enormous craft shot through its tube of ice.