The Evil Doings of the Martians in the Past
Every detail of the tragedy of Mars of long ago, as recounted in Macrae's report, came vividly before his mind. There was no mystery about the manner of it. He quite understood the method of the whole unspeakable crime, from its full conception to its ghastly perpetration. He knew better than to look upon it as a fable, or old wife's tale. The earnestness of the Venerian carried conviction.
In imagination he placed himself in the position of the Lunarians. Just as a drowning man will grasp at a straw, so those apparently perishing beings had allowed the instinct of self-preservation to stifle conscience.
He tried to realize the nature and power of the present Martians. His most vivid idea of them, however, he got by realizing the evident terror with which they inspired the Venerians.
If any Martian could gain a footing on the earth by grasping at the personality of one of its inhabitants, and so animating a human form, the whole world, by virtue of his psychic force and intellect, would be at his mercy and that of all his kin who would follow. The more the Professor thought of it the more terribly he felt the weight of his responsibility, knowing the fate that was now threatening the world, and that only he and this far-off Venerian stood between it and catastrophe.
More than once during the night the Professor left his room and paced the little entrance lobby of the station-house, into which both his and the signal-room opened. Each time that he closed his eyes, before a momentary doze had time to merge into sleep, some weird nightmare, connected with the subject of his thoughts, effectually roused him.
Two Keys to One Door
The night seemed interminable. It came to an end at last without incident.
At the earliest opportunity he asked Lieutenant Hughes if he could be provided with a key to the signal-room. He had noticed that the door was never locked, and seldom shut except in windy weather.
"Certainly, sir," said Lieutenant Hughes, rather mystified by the request.
He was a good-natured young fellow, who stood rather in awe of Professor Rudge, on account of his fame.
"Thank you," said the Professor. "You may have wondered why I have come to this station. The full details will I hope be known in due time, but I may say that it is in connection with an experiment in radio telephony. As you know, this is the most powerful installation that exists, and it is the only one adapted to my purpose."
"I thought it must be something of that sort, sir."
"Let me explain," said the Professor, "what may have seemed an odd request. Macrae, who assists me, is a very good fellow, very competent, intelligent and interested in what I am doing, but you will understand that in some experiments the slightest unconsidered action may be very prejudicial. I wish to make quite certain that he does not, even with the best intentions, meddle with any part of the mechanism in the signal-room when I am not there."
"Certainly, sir," said Hughes; "the door can be kept locked."
"If the keys can be found."
"If not, I will have a couple made at once. That will be no trouble to Jones."
Jones was the radio engineer acting with Lieutenant Hughes.
The Professor was several times on the point of taking Hughes to some extent into his confidence. He saw both the advantages in and objections to doing so. He finally decided to say nothing as yet.
By mid-day a key was handed to him.
"The only other key," said Hughes, "remains with me; so that will be all right."
This greatly allayed Professor Rudge's immediate sense of danger. At the appointed time, accompanied by Macrae, he went to the signal-table to resume the conversation of the day before. His first call was answered.
"Is Macrae with you?" came the question.
"Yes."
"Then we will go on with our discourse of yesterday, but at its termination send him from the room before you put down the receivers, that we may speak of our difficulty respecting him."
Then, the Professor repeating to Macrae, a further long exposition on various branches of science followed. The listener was soon entranced by his interest in, and lost in admiration of the long strides Venerian science had made beyond the bounds of human knowledge. He was carried so far beyond his depth that he found it impossible, while repeating the words, mentally to follow the argument with the same rapidity. Giving up the attempt as confusing and tending to error, he repeated mechanically, wisely deciding to defer thought or study until he could read the communication at his leisure.
At its conclusion there was a short pause, evidently intended to put the Professor on his guard. Then the voice resumed:
"Do not repeat! Find some reason to dismiss Macrae."
"That seems all on the subject for the present, Macrae. I think of asking a few questions, but shall not require your help. You must be pretty tired of it, as the subject is rather beyond you, is it not?"
"I do not understand it at all, sir," said Macrae, stifling a yawn.
"Then take the shorthand notes into your room and write them out for me while it is still daylight."
Macrae left the signal-room.
Re-adjusting the headpiece, the Professor said—
"I am now alone."
"Have you taken adequate precautions against Macrae coming to the instrument?"
"Yes. The door is now kept constantly locked when no messages are being sent."
The Venerians Tell of Impending Danger From Mars
"That is well, but I assure you that very great vigilance is necessary, and we do not feel convinced that you are sufficiently alive to the danger that threatens you. Our only hope's based on the knowledge that you are not a man of small mind, or lacking in imagination. If such were the case, we should despair of being able to assist you. You would in that case infallibly regard the danger as remote, almost unintelligible, even unreal. We are
