He would be of the order of some six feet six inches tall, with black or brown head-hair. (We saw no red-heads, and no blonds.) He would weigh, if he were to step on scales on Earth, some two hundred pounds. His chest would be broad, and apparently well-muscled. He would have facial hair, with thin eyebrows and wispy beard; some of the males we saw were clean-shaven, but this was uncommon. His eyes would be large, uncannily pale in coloration, and set wide apart in his face. His nose would be flat and broad, and his mouth would be generously fleshed.
At first sight the Martian face is a disturbing one for it seems brutal and devoid of emotion; as we later mingled with these people, however, both Amelia and I were able to detect facial nuances, even though we were never sure how to interpret them.
(My description here is of a city-Martian. The slave people were of the same racial stock, but due to the privations they suffered, most of the slaves we saw were comparatively thin and puny.)
The Martian female—for women there were in that room, and children too—is, like her Earthly counterpart, slightly the physical inferior of the male. Even so, almost every Martian female we saw was taller than Amelia, who is, as has already been said, taller than the average Earth woman. There is no woman on Mars who could ever be considered to be a beauty by Earth standards, nor, I suspect, would that concept have any meaning on Mars. At no time did we ever sense that Martian females were appreciated for their physical charms, and indeed we often had reason to believe that, as with some animals on Earth, the rôles on Mars were reversed in this respect.
The children we saw were, almost without exception, charming to us in the way any youngster has charm. Their faces were round and eager, not yet rendered unpleasant by the broadness and flatness so evident in the adults. Their behaviour, like that of Earth children, was on the whole riotous and mischievous, but they never appeared to anger the adults, whose attitude was indulgent and solicitous to them. It often seemed to us that the children were the sole source of happiness on this world, for the only time we saw the adults laughing was in the company of children.
This brings me to an aspect of Martian life which did not at first strike us, but which in later times became increasingly obvious. That is to say that I cannot imagine a race of beings more universally lugubrious, downcast or plainly miserable than the Martians.
The aura of despondency was present in the room as Amelia and I first entered it, and it was probably this which was our eventual saving. The typical Martian I have described would be obsessed with his internal miseries to the virtual exclusion of all other factors. To no other reason can I attribute the fact that Amelia and I were able to move so freely about the city without attracting attention. Even in those first few moments, as we stood in anticipation of the first cry of alarm or excitement at our appearance, few Martians so much as glanced in our direction. I cannot imagine the arrival of a Martian in an Earth city eliciting the same indifference.
Perhaps allied to this overall depression was the fact that the room was almost silent. One or two of the Martians spoke quietly, but most stood or sat about glumly. A few children ran while their parents watched, but this was the only movement. The voices we heard were weird: soprano and mellifluous. Obviously we could not understand the words or even the tenor of the conversations—although the words were accompanied by intricate hand-signals—but the sight of these large and ugly people speaking in what seemed to us to be falsetto was most disconcerting.
Amelia and I waited by the door, unsure of everything. I looked at Amelia, and suddenly the sight of her face—tired, dirty, but so lovely—was a welcome reminder of all that was familiar to me. She looked back at me, the strain of the last two days still revealing itself in her expression, but she smiled and entwined her fingers through mine once more.
“They’re just ordinary people, Edward.”
“Are you still frightened?” I said.
“I’m not sure…they seem harmless.”
“If they can live in this city, then so can we. What we must do is see how they conduct their everyday lives, and follow their example. They seem not to recognize us as strangers.”
Just then a group of the Martians moved away from the hammocks and walked in their strange, loping gait towards us. At once I led Amelia back through the door, and returned to the street with its ever-sweeping lights. We crossed to the further side, then turned back to watch what the Martians were doing.
In a moment the group appeared, and without looking once in our direction they set off down the way we had seen the others go earlier. We waited for half a minute, then followed them at a distance.
v
As soon as we returned to the street we realized that it had been warmer inside, and this was cause for further reassurance. I had been fearing that the native Martians lived habitually in coldness, but the inside of the building had been heated to an acceptable level. I was not sure that I wished to sleep in a communal dormitory—and wished such conditions even less for Amelia—but even if we did not care for it, we knew at least that we could tonight sleep warmly and comfortably.
It turned out that there was not far to walk. The Martians ahead of us crossed a street-junction, joined another, much larger, group walking from a different direction, then turned into the next building they came to. This was larger than many of the buildings we had so far seen, and from what we could see of it in the fitful illumination of the tower lights it appeared to be plainer in architectural style. There was light showing from the windows, and as we came nearer we could hear much noise from within.
Amelia made an exaggerated sniffing noise.
“I smell food,” she said. “And I hear clattering of dishes.”
I said: “And I detect wishful thinking.”
However, our mood was now much lighter, and feeble though such an exchange might be it was an indication that Amelia was sharing my feeling of renewed hope.
We did not hesitate as we approached the building, so emboldened had we been by our visit to the other building, and walked confidently through the main door into a vast, brightly lit hall.
It was clear at once that this was not another dormitory, for almost the entire floor-space was given over to long tables set in parallel rows. Each of these was crowded with Martian people apparently in the middle of a banquet. The tables were liberally spread with dishes of food, the air was laden with a steamy, greasy smell, and the walls echoed to the sound of the Martians’ voices. At the far end was what we assumed was the kitchen, for here about a dozen of the slave-Martians were toiling with metal plates and huge dishfuls of food, which were set out along a raised platform by the entrance to the kitchen.
The group of Martians we had been following had walked to this platform, and were helping themselves to food.
I said: “Our problem is solved, Amelia. Here is ample food for the taking.”
“Assuming we may eat it in safety.”
“Do you mean it could be poisonous?”
“How are we to know? We are not Martian, and our digestive systems might be quite different.”
“I don’t intend to starve while I decide,” I said. “And anyway we are being watched.”
This was the case, for although we had been able to stand unnoticed in the dormitory building, our evident hesitation was attracting attention. I took Amelia by the elbow and propelled her towards the platform.
My hunger had been such, earlier in the day, that I had thought I could have eaten anything. In the hours between, however, the gnawing hunger had passed to be replaced by a sensation of nausea, and the compulsion to eat was now much less than I would have anticipated. Furthermore, as we approached the platform it was clear that although there was food in abundance, there was little that looked at all appetizing, and I was stricken with a most unexpected fastidiousness. Most of the food was liquid or semi-liquid, and was laid out in tureens or bowls. The scarlet weed was obviously the staple, diet of these people, in spite of the several fields of green-crop we had se
en, for many of the stew-like dishes contained large quantities of the red stems and leaves. There were, though, one or two plates of what could be meat (although it was very under-cooked), and to one side there was something which, but for the fact we had seen no cattle, we could have taken for cheese. In addition, there were several glass jugs containing vividly coloured liquids, which were poured over the food as sauces by the Martians.
“Take small quantities of as many different kinds as possible,” Amelia said softly. “Then if any of it is dangerous, the effect will be minimized.”
The plates were large, and made of a dull metallic substance, and we each took a generous amount of food. Once or twice I sniffed what I was taking, but this was unedifying, to say the least.
Carrying our plates, we went towards one of the tables at the side, away from the main group of Martians.
There was a small number of the people at one end of the table we selected, but we passed them by and sat at the other end. The seats were long low benches, one on each side. Amelia and I sat next to each other, not at all at ease in this strange place, even though the Martians continued to pay no attention to us now we had moved away from the door.
We each took a little of the food: it was not pleasant, but it was still quite hot and was certainly better than an empty stomach.
After a moment, Amelia said in a low voice: “Edward, we cannot live like this for ever. We have simply been lucky so far.”
“Don’t let us discuss it. We are both exhausted. We’ll find somewhere to sleep tonight, and in the morning we will make plans.”
“Plans to do what? Spend a lifetime in hiding?”
We ate our way stoically through the food, being reminded continually of that bitter taste we had first experienced in the desert. The meat was no better; it had a texture similar to some cuts of beef, but was sweet and bland in flavour. Even the ‘cheese’, which we left until the end, was acidic.
On the whole our attention was distracted away from the food by the events about us.
I have already described the Martians’ habitual expression as being one of great lugubriousness, and in spite of the amount of conversation there was no levity. On our table, a Martian woman leaned forward and rested her wide forehead on her arms, and we could see tears trickling from her eyes. A little later, on the far side of the hall, a Martian man jumped abruptly back from his seat and strode around the room, waving his long arms and declaiming in his queer, high-pitched voice. He came to a wall and leant against it, banging his fists and shouting. This at last attracted the attention of his fellows, and several hurried to him and stood about, apparently trying to soothe him, but he was disconsolate.
Within a few seconds of this incident there was set up, as if the misery were contagious, such a general caterwauling that Amelia was impelled to say to me: “Do you suppose it is possible that here the responses are different? I mean, when they appear to be crying, are they actually laughing?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, cautiously watching the weeping Martian. He continued his outburst a little longer, then turned away from his friends and hurried from the hall with his hands covering his face. The others waited until he had vanished through the door, then returned to their own seats, looking morose.
We noticed that most of the Martians were taking large quantities of drink from glass jugs set on every table. As this was transparent we had assumed that it was water, but when I tasted some it was instantly clear that this was not so. Although it was refreshing to drink it was strongly alcoholic, to such an extent that within a few seconds of swallowing it I felt pleasantly dizzy.
I poured some for Amelia, but she only sipped at hers.
“It is very strong,” she said. “We must not lose our wits.”
I had already poured myself a second draught, but she restrained me from drinking it. I suppose she was wise to do this, because as we watched the Martians it was plain that most of them were fast becoming inebriated. They were being noisier and more careless in their manners than before. We even heard laughter, although it sounded shrill and hysterical. Large quantities of the alcoholic beverage were being drunk, and kitchen-slaves brought out several more jugs of it. A bench fell backwards to the floor, tipping its sitters into a sprawling heap, and two of the young male kitchen-slaves were captured by a group of female Martians who then hemmed them into a corner; what followed we could not see in the confusion. More slaves came out of the kitchen, and most of these were young females. To our astonishment, not only were they completely unclothed but they mingled freely with their masters, embracing and enticing them.
“I think it is time we left,” I said to Amelia.
She stared at the developing situation for a few moments longer before replying. Then she said: “Very well. This is grossly distasteful.”
We went towards the door, not pausing to look back. Another bench and a table were overturned, accompanied by a crash of breaking glasses and shouts from the Martian people. The maudlin atmosphere had been entirely banished.
Then, as we reached the door, a sound came echoing through the hall, chilling us and forcing us to look back. It was a harsh and discordant screeching sound, apparently emanating from one distant corner of the hall, but with sufficient volume to drown every other sound.
Its effect on the Martians was dramatic: all movement ceased, and the people present looked wildly from one to the other. In the silence that followed this brutal and sudden intrusion, we heard the sound of renewed sobbing.
I said: “Come on, Amelia.”
So we hurried from the building, sobered by the incident, not understanding but more than a little frightened.
There were now even fewer people about than before, but the tower lights swept across the streets as if to pick out those who wandered in the night when all others were engaged inside.
I led Amelia away from that area of the city where the Martians gathered, and back towards the part we had first walked through, where fewer lights showed. Appearances, though, were deceptive, for the fact that a building showed no light and emitted no noise did not mean it was deserted. We walked for about half a mile, and then tried the door of a darkened building. Inside, lights were shining and we saw that another feast had taken place. We saw…but it is not correct that I should here record what we saw. Amelia had no more wish than I to witness such depravity, and we hastened away, still not able to reconcile this world with the one we had left.
When we next tried a building I went forward alone…but the place was empty and dirty, and whatever had been its contents had been thoroughly destroyed by fire. The next building we explored was another dormitory-hall, well occupied by Martians. Without causing disturbance, we went away.
So it went, as we moved from one building to the next, seeking an unoccupied dormitory-hall; so long did we search that we began to think that there was none we could find. But then at last we were in luck, and came to a hall where hammocks hung unoccupied, and we went inside and slept.
Chapter Nine
EXPLORATIONS
i
During the weeks that followed, Amelia and I explored the Martian city as thoroughly as possible. We were hindered by the fact that we had perforce to go everywhere on foot, but we saw as much as we could and were soon able to make reasonable estimates as to its size, how many people it contained, where the major buildings were situated, and so forth. At the same time we tried to make what we could of the people of Mars, and how they lived; to be honest, however, we did not find much satisfaction on this score.
After two nights in the first dormitory we found, we moved to a second building, much nearer to the centre of the city and more conveniently sited by a dining-hall. This too was unoccupied, but its previous users had left many possessions behind them, and we were able to live in some comfort. The hammocks would have been unbearably hard on Earth—for the fabric of which they were made was coarse and unyielding—but in the light Martian gravity they were perfectly adequate. For bedding
we used large, pillow-like sacks filled with a soft compound, which were similar to the quilts used in some European countries.
We also found clothing that had been abandoned by the previous occupants, and we wore the drab garments over our own clothes. Naturally enough they were rather large for us, but the loose fit over our clothes made our bodies appear larger, and so we were able to pass more readily as Martians.
Amelia tied her hair back in a tight bun—approximating the style favoured by the Martian women—and I allowed my new beard to grow; every few days Amelia trimmed it with her nail-scissors to give it the wispy appearance of the Martians’.
At the time all this seemed to us a matter of priority; we were very aware that we looked different from the Martians. To this extent, our two days’ sojourn in the desert had been to our unwitting advantage: our sunburned faces, uncomfortable as they were, were a credible approximation of the Martians’ skin-hue. As the days passed, and our complexions began to fade, we returned one day to the desert beyond the city, and a few hours in that bitter radiant heat restored the colour temporarily.
But this is taking my narrative ahead of itself, for to convey how we, survived in that city I must first describe the place itself.
ii
Within a few days, of our arrival, Amelia had dubbed our new home Desolation City, for reasons which should already be clear.
Desolation City was situated at the junction of two canals. One of these, the one by whose banks we had first landed, ran directly from north to south. The second approached from the north-west, and after the junction—where there was a complicated arrangements of locks—continued to the south-east. The city had been built in the obtuse angle formed by the two canals, and along its southern and western edges were several docking accesses to the waterways.
As near as we could estimate it the city covered about twelve square miles, but a comparison on this basis with Earth cities is misleading, for Desolation City was almost exactly circular. Moreover, the Martians had lighted on the ingenious notion of entirely separating the industrial life of the city from the residential, for the buildings were designed for the everyday needs of the people, while the manufacturing work was carried out in the industrial areas beyond the city’s periphery.