In the few brief moments between the firings of the engine, when the constraint of the tubes relaxed a little, Amelia and I managed to exchange a few words. She told me that the blood had stopped flowing, but that she had a vile headache and felt faint and sick.
Then at last the drifting of the two grids became so rapid that I dared not slacken my attention at all. The instant I turned off the engines the grids bounced apart, and I pressed the lever down and held it in place.
Now given its full throat, the braking engine set up a noise of such immensity that I felt the projectile itself must certainly break into pieces. The entire craft shuddered and rattled, and where my feet touched the metal floor I could feel an intolerable heat. Around us, the pressure-tubes gripped so tightly we could hardly breathe. I could not move even the tiniest muscle, and had no notion of how Amelia was faring. I could feel the tremendous power of the engine as if it were a solid object against which we were ramming, for even in spite of the restraining tubes, I felt myself being pushed forward against the braking. So, in this bedlam of noise and heat and pressure, the projectile blazed across the night sky of England like a green comet.
The end of our voyage, when it came, was abrupt and violent. There was an almighty explosion outside the craft, accompanied by a stunning impact and concussion. Then, in the sudden silence that immediately followed, we fell forward from the relaxing pressure-tubes, into the blistering heat of the compartment.
We had arrived on Earth, but we were indeed in a sorry state.
Chapter Eighteen
INSIDE THE PIT
i
We lay unconscious in the compartment for nine hours, oblivious, for the most part, of the terrible disorder our landing had thrown us into. Perhaps while we lay in this coma of exhaustion we were spared the worst effects of the experience, but what we endured was unpleasant enough.
The craft had not landed at an angle best suited to our convenience; because of the craft’s axial spin the actual position in relation to the ground had been a matter of chance, and that chance had left both the pressure-tubes and our hammock suspended on what now became the walls. Moreover, the craft had collided with the ground at a sharp angle, so that the force of gravity tumbled us into the nose of the projectile.
That gravity itself felt immense. My attempts to approximate Earth’s gravity by spinning the craft more quickly had been too conservative by far. After several months on Mars, and in the projectile, our normal weights felt intolerable.
As I have described, Amelia injured herself shortly before we started our landing, and this new fall had reopened the wound, and blood poured from her face more profusely than before. In addition, I had hit my head as we fell from the pressure-tubes.
Finally, and most unbearable of all, the interior of the craft was overwhelmingly hot and humid. Perhaps it had been the exhaust of the green fire that slowed our flight, or the friction of the Earth’s atmosphere, or most probably a combination of the two, but the metal of the hull and the air it contained, and everything within were heated to an insupportable level.
This was the degree of disorder in which we lay unconscious, and this was the kind of squalor to which I awoke.
ii
My first action was to turn to Amelia, who lay in a huddle across me. The bleeding from her injury had stopped of its own accord, but she was in a dreadful state; her face, hair and clothes were sticky with congealing blood. So still was she, and so quiet her breathing, that at first I was convinced she had died, and only when in a panic I shook her by the shoulders and slapped her face did she rouse.
We were lying in a shallow pool of water, which had gathered on the floor under the spray from a fractured pipe. This pool was very warm, for it had taken heat from the metal hull of the projectile, but the spray was as yet cool. I found Amelia’s bag, and took from it two of her towels. These I soaked in the spray, and washed her face and hands, dabbing gently at the open wound. As far as I could see, there was no fracture of her cranium, but the flesh of her forehead, just below her hairline, was torn and bruised.
She said nothing while I washed her, and seemed not to be in pain. She flinched only when I cleaned the wound.
“I must get you to a more comfortable position,” I said, gently.
She simply took my hand, and squeezed it affectionately.
“Can you talk?” I said.
She nodded, then said: “Edward, I love you.”
I kissed her, and she held me fondly against her. In spite of our dire circumstances I felt as if I had been relieved of a great weight; the tensions of the flight had dissipated.
“Do you feel well enough to move?” I said.
“I think so. I am a little unsteady.”
“I will support you,” I said.
I stood up first, feeling giddy, but I was able to balance myself by holding on to a part of the broken controls which now overhung us, and by extending a hand I helped Amelia to her feet. She was more shaken than I, so I put one arm around her waist. We moved further up the sloping floor of the projectile to a place where, although the gradient was steeper, at least there was somewhere dry and smooth to sit.
It was then that I took out my watch, and discovered that nine hours had passed since we crash-landed. What had the monsters done in the time we lay unconscious?!
iii
Feeling very sorry for ourselves, we sat and rested for several more minutes, but I was obsessed by a sense of urgency. We could not delay leaving the projectile any longer than absolutely necessary. For all we knew, the monsters might even now be marching from their hold and launching their invasion.
Immediate concerns were still to be considered, though. One was the enervating heat in which we were sitting. The very floor on which we rested was almost hotter than we could bear, and all around us the metal plates radiated suffocating warmth. The air was moist and sticky, and every breath we took seemed devoid of oxygen. Much of the food that had spilled was slowly rotting, and the stench was sickening.
I had already loosened my clothes, but as the heat showed no sign of abating it seemed wise to undress. Once Amelia had recovered her wits I suggested this, then helped her off with the black uniform. Underneath she still wore the ragged garment I had seen her in at the slave-camp. It was unrecognizable as the crisp white chemise it had once been.
I was better off, for beneath my uniform I still wore my combination underwear which, in spite of my various adventures, was not at all unpresentable.
After some consideration we agreed it would be better if I explored the present situation alone. We had no idea how active were the monsters, assuming that they had not been killed by the concussion, and that it would be safer if I were by myself. So, having made absolutely sure that Amelia was comfortable, I let myself out of the compartment and set about the climb through the passages that ran through the hull.
It will be recalled that the projectile was very long: it was certainly not much less than three hundred feet from stem to stern. During our flight through space, movement about the craft had been relatively simple, because the axial rotation provided one with an artificial floor. Now, however, the craft had buried itself in the soil of Earth, and seemed to be standing on its nose, so that I was forced to climb at a very steep angle. In the heat, which was, if anything, greater in this part of the hull, the only advantage I had was that I knew my way about.