The Great Martian War

by Scott Washburn

  “It’s… ah… reproducing,” he declared. “Now this would be valuable if we can preserve it somehow. Sergeant, where are those horses? See if we’ve got something we can put this in.”

  “Sir?” said the other sergeant, grimacing, who then sighed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Y-you mean it’s a baby?” gasped Becca Harding, the color draining from her face. “I… I didn’t know she was… pregnant!”

  Comstock stood up and shook his head. “It’s not like that, Miss. The Martians don’t have males and females. They reproduce by fission, like some lower forms of life here on Earth. Don’t… trouble yourself over this.” Harding nodded, but didn’t look convinced.

  “Looks like the thing’s in trouble, sir,” said one of the men. The little horror was growing agitated. Its tentacles were waving around wildly. Then it began to tear at the sack with its beak. Eventually it managed to rip it open and spilled itself and a puddle of liquid out on the ground. But its movements were getting weaker and weaker and finally stopped altogether. One of the men suddenly made a strangled sound, turned away, and vomited. Dolfen felt like doing that himself.

  “Couldn’t survive on its own yet,” muttered Major Comstock. “Well, it’s small enough, we’ll take it with us.”

  “And we better get moving, sir,” said the sergeant. “Can’t believe those things won’t come to investigate what we’ve done here.”

  “Right. Ah, here are the horses.” Two men came riding up, towing ten other horses. “Some of us are going to have to ride double, I’m afraid. Thirteen horses and … uh… twenty-three of us? Is that right?”

  “I think so, sir. Oh, and I think Private Ogileavy’s got a broken arm from when that thing hit him.”

  “Damn. Well, get him fixed up as best you can and on a horse. Try to even out the loads as much as possible. Sergeant McGill, I’m turning things over to you for the next few hours. Head back the way we came. I’ll catch up as soon as I can. If I don’t… you get back to the mine, collect the others and try to link up with the army.”

  “Sir? What are you talking about, sir?”

  Comstock pointed toward the wall in the distance. “I’m going to try and get a look at what’s on the other side of that.”

  “Alone, sir?” The man was aghast.

  “Only takes one, Sergeant.”

  “I’d like to go along,” said the civilian.

  “Not this time, Mr. White!” snapped the major.

  “But…”

  “No!”

  “But you can’t go alone!” insisted McGill. “Dammit, you shouldn’t be going at all!”

  “We need to know what’s going on. It’s important, Sergeant.”

  “Then let me come with you!”

  “No, I need you in charge here.”

  McGill snarled in exasperation. “At least let me send one of the lads with ye!”

  “No, Sergeant, there’s no need for anyone to…”

  “I’ll go with you, sir,” said Dolfen. The man’s eyes turned to him.

  “What? Why?”

  Good question. He wasn’t sure why he’d made the offer. It was just… “I know the place, sir. Got some friends there. I’d like to know what happened.” Comstock opened his mouth but then hesitated.

  “Yes!” snapped the one named McGill. “Sir, if you’re gonna be a fool, beggin’ your pardon, don’t be a damn fool! Take the sergeant!”

  “Come on, sir,” said Dolfen. “Time’s a-wasting.”

  “All… all right, let’s go.”

  They quickly mounted two horses and turned them toward the mysterious wall. Only then did the girl, busy with her horse, notice what was going on. “Sergeant! Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be back! Go with the others! Don’t worry!”

  “But… but why?”

  He kneed the horse into a canter to follow the major. He turned his head and called: “I’ll be back!”

  I hope.

  Chapter Ten

  Cycle597,843.5, East of Holdfast 32-1

  The distress signal took Qetjnegartis by surprise. They and their captive prey-animals were within a day’s travel of the holdfast. The others it had sent back earlier were sweeping the surrounding area for any wandering prey and all appeared to be well. By all expectations once they returned, work could resume on the holdfast at maximum effort, the buds could finish maturing, and preparations could be made for future expansion.

  But now there was an emergency call for aid from Kravnijuntus. It said only that it was under attack and then the signal had cut off abruptly. No attempt to reestablish communications had been successful. What did this mean? Under attack? By the prey-creatures obviously, but how many? What sort of weapons did they have? More of those large projectile throwers? The location indicated was already dangerously close to the holdfast. If it was a substantial force, this could turn into a major setback.

  Qetjnegartis checked the location of the other war machines and was dismayed to see that none were in position to quickly investigate. Kravnijuntus had been the only one to the south of the holdfast since that area had already been swept when they had come through earlier. The others were all out to the north and west. Zastranvis was minding the constructor machines and closest to the scene of the attack, but Qetjnegartis did not want to leave those invaluable machines unguarded.

  It considered the situation and made a swift decision. Of paramount importance was the safety of the holdfast. It would order all the others on patrol to converge there. It would meet them there personally and then move south to investigate. The ones herding the captives would continue to do so. Yes, this was the most reasonable course of action.

  Qetjnegartis issued its orders.

  * * * * *

  March, 1909, Gallup, New Mexico Territory

  Major Andrew Comstock urged his horse onward. The sergeant from the 5th—what was his name? Dolfen?—was right beside him. The wall in the distance got closer at an excruciatingly slow pace. It had only looked to be five or six miles distant and he’d thought the horses would get him there in just a few minutes. But it was taking longer and the Martians would certainly respond soon. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

  “What are you looking for, sir?” asked Dolfen. He seemed much more at ease in the saddle than Andrew. A veteran cavalryman, surely. A lot older, too. It still made him a little uncomfortable ordering around men twice his age.

  “Whatever’s there. Anything and everything. No one’s ever seen something like this before.” He paused and then asked: “What are you looking for?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I just wanted to see… if anything’s left.”

  “You have friends in Gallup? Family?”

  “No family. But there’s a woman…”

  “Oh? I thought that girl with the others was… she seemed very worried about you.”

  “Just a kid we found on the way. She thinks… not sure what she’s thinking, sir. But what about the army? What’s going on?”

  Andrew hesitated for a moment, but then he told him. Everything.

  “Damn,” said Dolfen when he’d finished. “When I heard the guns from across the mountains. I’d hoped… As bad as that. Sir?”

  “’Fraid so. But the Martians didn’t follow up. There are still a lot more troops moving this way. If they can get organized, things might not be as bad as they seem.”

  “And you came all the way out here with just a dozen men? What for?”

  “I wanted to find out what they were doing. That was my mission. Now I just need to get a look behind that wall and we can all go home.”

  The miles had gone by much faster while he was talking. The wall loomed up in front of them and they slowed as they reached its base. It was thirty or forty feet high, and while the slope wasn’t impossibly steep, it was all dirt and loose stones. He didn’t want to try to take the horses up that. If one of them got hurt or lamed, they’d be stuck here. So they dismounted and tied the horses’ leads to rocks to keep th
em from wandering. Then they began the climb to the top.

  It wasn’t easy and he tried not to think about what would happen if a tripod suddenly appeared at the top. They didn’t have a clue what was on the other side and it could easily be sudden death. But they struggled on, shins and knees bruised, and hands scraped raw. They finally neared the top and then slowed to a crawl. Very carefully, they poked their heads up above the edge.

  Nothing immediately fatal was waiting for them. Indeed, there wasn’t that much to be seen at first glance. Looking to the left and right along the curve of the wall, he could see that the inner face was much steeper than the outer face, but he couldn’t see what was keeping it from collapsing; although the surface had a strange almost glassy look to it. The wall curved around in a circle and the far side was at least three miles away, although there was a cloud of dust coming up from there—was it still under construction on that side? There were ramps leading up to the top of the wall at intervals.

  “Where… where’s the town?’ asked Dolfen from beside him. It was true: the inside of the ring had been scraped clean. If the town of Gallup had once stood here, there wasn’t a trace of it to be seen.

  “I… I think it must be part of the wall now,” said Andrew. “I’m sorry, Sergeant.”

  “The bastards!” hissed the man. “But what happened to all the people who were here?”

  Andrew didn’t answer; he didn’t know if all the people in the town had been killed in the first attack or if they’d been… collected, like the troops they’d seen. Even if he had known, he wasn’t about to say anything to Dolfen. Instead, he pulled out his field glasses. A glint of sunlight on metal had caught his eye. He focused and saw that close to the eastern side of the wall there was some sort of activity going on. He sucked in his breath when he saw at least a dozen tripods standing in the shadow of the wall. They weren’t moving, but still looked very menacing. But somewhat closer at hand there were several other machines at work. They were unlike anything he’d ever seen before. What were they? What were they doing? It was too far away to tell.

  “There’s something over there,” he said. “I need to get closer.”

  He expected an immediate protest from Sergeant Dolfen, so when he didn’t get one he lowered his glasses and turned to look at the man. He was staring back with a strange expression, his fists clenched.

  “You think… you think that what you learn could help beat them?” he asked, talking slowly. Andrew suddenly realized that the man was close to the edge. He had talked about ‘going home’ earlier, but this had been Dolfen’s home. Gallup and Fort Wingate and the 5th Cavalry. All gone. Destroyed by the Martians.

  “That is my hope, Sergeant,” he replied, speaking very carefully. “That’s what I was sent out here for: to learn what we need to beat these things. And right now I could use your help.”

  “You’ve got it, sir. Let’s go.”

  They scrambled back down to the horses and then rode as quickly as they could along the base of the wall, heading east. Andrew had briefly considered sending Dolfen to bring the horses while he made his way on foot along the top, but this was clearly better. If they encountered the enemy now, they could still run for it. If he’d been up there, he wouldn’t have a chance. They hurried along and he found himself looking at the tumbled pile of stone and dirt that made up the wall. In spite of himself, he was looking for bricks or beams or broken roof tiles—or blackened bones; some trace of the town of Gallup. But there was nothing.

  After riding about a mile, they halted again and made the same painful trip up the wall. They were even more careful about poking their heads up this time. When they were just below the apex, he noticed a series of metal objects topping the wall farther to the north. They stood like the crenellations on a medieval tower and he was afraid that they might also be serving some sort of defensive purpose. He didn’t want to get close to them and fortunately there were none on this section.

  Peering down inside, he saw that they were much closer to the strange machines now; perhaps just a half mile away. He took out his field glasses again and looked. The dozen tripods were still standing in a row just as they had earlier. But the other machines… he could see them much more clearly. Instead of standing tall like the tripods, these things were long and low, supported by eight metal legs. Each one had a forest of tentacles and arms sprouting from the top and sides that all seemed to be moving and doing things. But what? “Strange looking things,” he muttered.

  “Sir?” said Dolfen. “I think we saw those things, the ones with all the legs, I mean, a few weeks ago when were holed up in Ramah. They were heading this way in a group.”

  “Really? They must have come from the original landing site to the south!”

  He stared for a while, trying to interpret what his eyes were showing him. There was one machine that wasn’t moving much and two others that were working at either end of it; but what were they…? “Oh My God,” he whispered.

  “What is it, sir?” asked Dolfen.

  “They… they’re factories! They’re building things!”

  “Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense…”

  “No! You don’t understand! Those machines, by themselves, are making things! The one in front is loading stuff—they look like rails from the railroad—into the one in the middle and other things—finished parts!—are coming out the back! The third one is assembling them into something. It looks like one of those things along the wall. Yes, it’s finished it and now it’s going up the ramp with it!” He looked on as the machine scuttled up the ramp with surprising speed and placed the object—it looked like a cylinder with some strange projections—onto the wall maybe fifty yards from the next one over. It came back down to where a small pile of new parts was already waiting for it. As he watched, there was more movement and something emerged from a hole in the ground that he’d seen earlier; it was another one of the machines! It walked over to the middle machine and poured something into a hopper on the top.

  “Oh,” breathed Andrew. “This is bad. Really bad!”

  “What do you mean, sir?”

  “I… we… the high command, I mean, we always assumed that if the Martians got a foothold on Earth that they would try to establish themselves and gather resources and build factories so they could increase their strength. That’s certainly what we’d do in their place. But we assumed it would take time! Months and years! They’d have to dig mines and build refineries and smelters to extract the ore and only then could they start building the factories to produce new war machines. Years! But they’ve only been here a few weeks and they’re doing it already! And if those new Martians mature rapidly… This changes everything! I’ve got to get back to Washington and warn them!” He’d hoped to find something worthwhile on this trip, but he never dreamed it would be anything like this!

  “Well, it’s time to get moving, that’s for sure! Look, sir!” Andrew looked where Dolfen was pointing and saw four dust clouds off to the north and west. His binoculars revealed them as tripods walking rapidly their way.

  “There’s another one!” cried the sergeant. “It’s a lot closer!” And it surely was: this machine was just reaching the top of the wall only a little ways beyond where the construction machines were at work, not a mile away.

  “Right you are! Let’s go!” They jumped, tumbled, and slid down the slope as quickly as they could, mounted their horses, and galloped off to the southeast.

  * * * * *

  Cycle597,843.5, Holdfast 32-1

  Qetjnegartis looked down upon the mangled remains of Kravnijuntus and was filled with an entirely unfamiliar sensation. When Franjandus had died in battle it had been regrettable, but still a worthy sacrifice for the good of the clan and the race. And an honorable death. But this, this was different somehow. Clearly, Kravnijuntus had been slain after its machine had been rendered inoperable. It had exited and then been… slaughtered. Such a waste.

  And how had it been done? Explosions had torn off some o
f the limbs of the fighting machine, but the damage was different from what it had observed on Franjandus’ machine after the battle. Was this some new weapon? And there was no trace of any of the prey-creatures to be found. Had none been slain in carrying this out? A pair of the creatures, riding draught animals, had been observed fleeing the vicinity of the holdfast a short while ago, but no others. Surely, those two could not have done this alone!

  Looking closer it discerned the empty bud sac on Kravnijuntus’ side. Where was the bud? There was no trace of it close by. Had it freed itself from the sac or been… taken? Qetjnegartis probed its own bud. It did not appear to be sufficiently developed to survive on its own yet, but buds did develop at different rates. Could the prey-creatures have taken it alive? The thought was more disturbing than any Qetjnegartis had had in a very long time.

  “Commander? We have surveyed this location and find only imprints of the prey-creatures and their draught animals, and only a small number. There is no sign of any vehicles, such as those that pulled the projectile throwers. The imprints appear to go off to the east.”

  Qetjnegartis acknowledged this report, but it did not make the situation any clearer. So, what to do? There apparently was no large force poised to threaten the holdfast. But the two creatures seen earlier, had they gotten close enough to see inside the holdfast? Had they recognized the status of its incomplete defenses? And what had slain Kravnijuntus and destroyed its machine? An earlier report from it had indicated it was bringing prey back to the holdfast. Those prey had clearly escaped and no doubt accounted for the imprints in the ground. But how had they freed themselves?

  “Commander, what are your orders?” Its subordinates were waiting.

  What was the proper course? With the loss of Kravnijuntus, it had only ten war machines in operation. Twelve more were ready but had no operators. There are too few of us here; the next landings must bring more personnel and less equipment. And the first layer of defenses for the holdfast was still at least twelve days from completion. What to do? Remain here and defend the holdfast and wait for the buds to mature? That might be prudent. But what had those two creatures learned? What might they learn from the captured bud? Qetjnegartis was beginning to have serious doubts about some of the reports from the first expedition. The prey-creatures were not, it seemed, so easily demoralized. They would continue to struggle even after a defeat. What if they returned in strength before the holdfast was secure? It needed to know what was happening out there.