CHAPTER TWENTY

Trapped in the Martian Pit

We were forced to hide ourselves when two fighting machines appeared in the pit. We hid in the back of the kitchen for hours, but our incredibly strong desire to continue watching the Martians caused us to risk our lives in order to get another look at them.

The curate and I were not getting along at all at this point. We were completely different kinds of people. I hated his constant crying and hopeless talk. His talking and crying constantly prevented me from concentrating on a way to get out of our extremely difficult situation. He ate a lot of the food in the house, even after I pointed out that we might be trapped there for quite a while and might one day be without food if he continued to eat so much. Finally, his behavior became so foolish and careless that I had to start using physical force to control him. To this day, I still feel bad for my violent behavior, but those who have been in similar situations can understand the human tendency toward strong methods.

One day, as I was watching the Martians work, I noticed a curious digging machine that would pick up large amounts of dirt and place it into a box that separated the dirt from the clay. The machine then took the clay and processed it somehow through a small machine on its backside. Just seconds later, what had once been clay now came out a brilliant metal tube. It was truly unbelievable how advanced their technological abilities were.

Then came the first delivery of humans into the pit. The curate had been taking his turn to watch when suddenly he jumped back from the hole in the wall and ran to my side. I thought that he had been seen and that we were about to be killed. Nothing happened though. After a few moments, I walked over to the hole in the wall to have a look at what had frightened the curate so much.

At first I saw nothing. It was dark now. The only light there was to see by was the green flame of the spider-like machines as they continued their restless work. Then, I saw one of the fighting machines to my right raise a dark, moving object from the basket on its back. The green lights flashed and revealed that the object in the machine's hand was a human. Then both the machine's hand and the human disappeared behind a hill of dirt. A horrible screaming then rose up into the night along with the "cooing" sounds of the Martians.

I ran to the back of the kitchen and covered my ears to keep the sound of the screaming out. At that point, I decided that we had to somehow escape. The problem was that the curate was now totally crazy. He had no ability to think any longer. It was entirely up to me to find a way out. I thought of digging through the dirt to the opposite side of the house, but then I feared that I would easily be seen by one of the fighting machines when I emerged. Then I realized that our only hope was that the Martians might eventually leave their pit and move on.

I started to feel that things were quite hopeless, not just for myself, but for all mankind. Then came the sound of bombs falling.

(end of section)