CHAPTER FOURTEEN

London

At the time of the Martian landing in Woking, my brother was studying medicine in London. He did not hear the news, however, for he was preparing for an examination and the newspapers did not give any indication that there was terrible danger. The paper had only said that some people had been killed after their approach frightened the Martians. In addition to lots of articles about Mars and life on other planets, there was a message from Woking printed, that read: "Martians, although very powerful, cannot seem to move from their pit, due to the strong force of gravity." So, the feeling in London was one of general curiosity, and nothing more. People did not connect the cutting of telegraph lines and the disruption of train services with the landing of the Martians.

The problem with the news reports was that they were written by people who had not seen the Martians. Therefore their descriptions of events were incorrect. London people seemed to think that the Martians were incredibly slow and under terrible pain from the Earth's atmosphere. The result being, that when reports of whole towns, like Woking, being destroyed and entire military units being killed, Londoners tended to read it without much worry, or feeling. They were safe, they thought, so everything was okay.

Train services became increasingly disorganized. Bits of news kept arriving: Weybridge residents had left their town and were heading toward London; fighting had begun around the town of Weybridge. All the information was without detail.

My brother, after reading reports in The Referee that the town of Woking had been destroyed, began to worry about my safety. He went to the train station to see if there was any way to reach me. Only a few trains were still running. One of the passengers from Kingston approached my brother saying, "You wouldn't believe all the people coming to Kingston in wagons loaded with their personal things! We were told that the Martians were coming this way! In fact, we heard guns being fired outside of Hampton Court station. What's happening? I thought that the Martians couldn't leave their pit!"

Soon, trucks full of soldiers and guns began to arrive at the station. Then the police came and cleared the people from the train platforms. Reports came that a body, terribly burned, had been found floating in the river, along with some strange, brown-colored matter. One of the soldiers said that he had seen warning lights flashing in the distance from the western edge of town.

Leaving the station, my brother walked out under an incredibly peaceful, golden sky. He ran into three newspaper boys, who ran about town screaming the latest news of the horror in Weybridge. My brother got a copy of the paper and it was at this moment that he realized just how terrible the situation truly was.

The reports were now much more accurate. The Martians were now described as highly intelligent beings that were operating huge metallic, spider-like machines that could move as quickly as the fastest train. It told of the destruction of one of the machines and the following destruction of an entire unit of military. One hundred sixteen of the largest guns available were now being placed around London in preparation for their coming.

It also said that the military was prepared to destroy any newly arriving Martian ships as soon as they touched Earth. They instructed the people not to worry too much, for there were, at most, only twenty Martians, compared to the millions of humans that lived in the area. They assured the people that the military would be able to protect them from any possible danger, and that, in the event that the Martians did come, the people would be informed early enough for them to escape.

Everyone ran out into the streets to get their own copy of the paper. All of London was now excited by the news. As my brother walked along the Strand, he saw some people from Surrey, who had just escaped their town, pulling a cart with their household things on it. They looked tired and troubled. Their clothing was a terrible mess. Everyone on the street watched them as they made their confused way among the busy traffic.

Further down the road, my brother ran into many more of these people who had escaped from the surrounding countryside. He thought that it might be possible to find me among the crowd. A large number of policemen had been assigned to guide these Sunday visitors along the streets to "safe houses." And the people kept coming in greater and greater numbers all day and night long.

My brother attempted to get some news of Woking from them, but no one seemed to know anything. One man did, however, tell him that the little town was burned completely to the ground the night before.

Soon, a feeling began to run among the people of London that the military and government were not doing a good enough job of taking care of these Martians; for the coming of all these countryside people was causing lots of problems.

At around eight that evening, as my brother passed through one of the quieter back streets, he heard the sound of guns being fired from the southern end of the city. He quickly headed back to his home in Regent's Park, full of worries about my safety. He tried to imagine these spider-like Martians and their deadly heat rays. On his way back, he could see that people were still taking their evening walks, but they were in groups now, chatting away about the recent news.

At home, he sat thinking and listening to the sound of guns in the distance. After many attempts to take his mind off of things, by returning to his studies, he finally laid down, after midnight, to try and get some sleep.

Later, in the darkness of early morning, my brother was awakened by the sound of people banging on doors and drums being played somewhere down the road. He lay there, momentarily, in shock, wondering what was happening. He then jumped to his feet and ran to the window. Outside, policemen were rushing door-to-door screaming, "Their getting closer! The Martians will soon be here!" Church bells started ringing all around the neighborhood in an effort to wake everyone up.

The door to the next room suddenly opened behind my brother, and his flat-mate came walking into the room, looking confused.

"What's happening out there?" he said, joining my brother at the window.

"I'm not quite sure, actually," my brother responded, "Something about Martians."

The two of them stood for a moment, both of their heads out of the window, trying to understand the shouts of the policemen. Then my brother began to get dressed, while keeping an eye outside the window.

Newspaper sellers came running around the corner, shouting the latest headlines:

"Military units totally destroyed in the Thames Valley!"

This was to be the beginning of London's "Great Fear". The entire city had gone to bed that Sunday evening without a worry, and woken up early Monday morning to a horrible feeling of danger.

My brother stepped outside his apartment at around sunrise and found the streets filling more and more with running people. There were shouts of "smoke!" from the newspaper sellers, who still sold their papers, instead of just giving them away. My brother took a paper from him and threw some coins at him as he ran away. On the front page was a message from the highest military leader: "Martians have completely destroyed Richmond, Wimbledon, and Kingston; and are gradually approaching London. They are using a deadly black gas to kill entire units of our military. There is no way to stop them. The only way for Londoners to survive is by leaving the city immediately."

Soon the whole city of London would be running in the streets in an attempt to escape to the north. My brother then ran back to his apartment and gathered all of the money he could find and then ran back out into the street to run for his life.

(end of section)