The Map of the Sky (Trilogía Victoriana #2)(102)
“They are all here, sir,” the priest announced timidly. “They are eager to greet you.”
The Envoy nodded and, turning toward the priest, he opened his eyes.
“Then let us not keep them any longer,” he said, buttoning his jacket. “They have waited long enough, don’t you think?”
The priest smiled wearily back at him. He stood up from the table and led the Envoy toward the church, trying hard to appear excited about what was happening, which was nothing less than the event they had all been waiting for since their ancestors first arrived on Earth. The priest motioned to his guest to go before him. The Envoy lifted his head as he stepped through the curtain separating the sacristy from the church and walked forward with as much grace as his human form allowed. He was aware of a murmur of expectancy, this time from the hundreds of throats in the church. A varied sample of humanity filled the benches and aisles, a range of social classes, of men and women, all very different, yet all with the same awed expression. The Envoy raised his hand slowly in a gesture of greeting, which the reddish glow filtering through the stained glass windows imbued with solemnity. Then he walked ceremoniously over to the pulpit, planted his hand on it, and spoke to the colony.
“First of all, please accept my apologies for the sixty-eight-year delay, brothers and sisters. My journey here has not been easy, but I have arrived at last. And it is you who will fulfill your ancestors’ dream, for tomorrow we shall conquer London.”
XXIV
LET US NOW RETURN TO THE REAL WELLS, whom we left clasping Miss Harlow inside a luxurious carriage with an ornate “G” emblazoned on one of its doors, which at that moment was hurtling toward the Martian tripod in an insane bid to pass beneath its legs. I hope you will forgive me for having left our hero in such a delicate situation; think of it as my homage to the serialized novels of the time. As the jolting carriage careered across the dozen or so yards separating it from the lethal machine, Wells gritted his teeth, expecting the heat ray to vaporize them at any moment. However, the author was still able to wonder whether the flames would consume their bodies so swiftly that they wouldn’t have time to feel any pain. But death’s caress was slow to arrive. Astonished that the machine had still not fired at them, Wells opened his eyes and turned toward the window, convinced these would be his last gestures. As he did so, he saw one of the tripod’s legs pass so close to the carriage that it sheared off a lantern on the left side. A second later, he heard a deafening blast from behind, which shook the coach violently once again. Then Murray gave a cry of triumph. Looking over his shoulder through the rear window, Wells could see the vast hole the ray had bored in the road. With a mixture of relief and joy, he realized the tentacle had waited too long before firing at them. The speed at which the millionaire had driven the horses had confused the machine, and it had not had time to take proper aim. And as the tripod grew smaller in the rear window, so the likelihood of it firing at them again diminished, for as Murray had realized, the machine could not turn as quickly as they. The author watched as it tried to swivel round in the middle of the road like a clumsy ballerina, realizing that by the time it did so, their carriage would be out of sight. He turned once more in his seat, breathless with anxiety, and gently lifted the girl’s head, which was still pressed against his chest.
“We made it, Miss Harlow, we made it,” he stammered between gasps.
The girl sat up straight, a look of shock on her face. Gazing through the window, she saw that indeed they had succeeded in passing under the machine, which had given up pursuit and was moving in the opposite direction toward Woking.
“Are you all right in there?” they heard Murray ask.
“Yes, you bloody lunatic, we’re all right!” Wells shouted, unsure whether to explode with rage or give in to the hysterical laughter threatening to rise from his throat.
Instead, he simply fell back in his seat, his heart still pounding, and tried to calm himself. They had been on the point of dying, he said to himself, yet they were alive. This was a reason to rejoice. Or it ought to have been. He looked over at Inspector Clayton, who was still sprawled on the seat opposite wearing the peaceful expression of someone having a pleasant dream, oblivious to the vicissitudes suffered by his body. Wells sighed and gazed at the girl, who, like he, was attempting to recover from the shock. They remained like this for a few moments, silent, and grateful, as though they had just been reunited with their souls, which had almost escaped from their chests like scared birds. The carriage continued on its way, much more slowly now that it was no longer being pursued by the machine.
Yet before either of them could break the silence they were struck dumb by the devastation that began to emerge around them. With a mixture of horror and fascination, they contemplated a patchwork of pine forests reduced to ashes and half-burnt woods still smoldering in places, with tiny fires scattered throughout, filling the air with a resinous odor. Plumes of smoke rose from a succession of collapsed houses along the roadside. Among them, an occasional dwelling, surprisingly intact, stood out, spared from destruction by a mysterious whim of the tripod. After several minutes of utter devastation, they came across a derailed locomotive, which looked like a gigantic fiery snake stretched out across the grass. Around it were several smoking craters, and even in the dimness they could make out the bodies of passengers mown down as they tried to flee.
Scarcely had they left this sinister spectacle behind when they heard distant cannons firing at regular intervals, and they assumed the tripod that had been pursuing them had encountered an artillery battalion. Wells wondered which side had the advantage as he looked out of the window at the ruins that bore witness to the cruelty or indifference this enemy from outer space showed toward the human race.