Arthur Zagat - The Golden Age of Science Fiction Volume IX

“Speak lower; I hear you easily,” I said. “There is a party of them coming down this road to descend to the city. They have stopped upon seeing me. They are nothing but men like ourselves. I see no wings, horns, tails, or other appendages that we have not. They are just fat, puffy, sluggish men, very white and pale in colour, and covered with a peculiar clothing that looks like feathers. I seem to be a far greater freak to them than they are to me.”

Had he been a million miles away, I should have known that it was the doctor answering, from his unsurprised and matter-of-fact tone. I imagined I could see the exact expression of his face as he said,—

“After all, then, man is the most perfect animal the Creator could make. From a mechanical standpoint he needs nothing that he has not, and has nothing that he does not need. However you change him, you would make him imperfect. Physiologically he may be much the same on all the planets, but there is room for the widest variations on the intellectual and spiritual side.”

“Do not forget that my patriarchal ancestors record that God made man in His own image, upon which there could be no improvement,” I put in.

“Yes, but modern scientists would have us believe that your patriarchs would have written a different fable if they had understood the theory of evolution. It appears that man is really a little lower than the angels, by being material and ponderable and visible, but the general image may be the same. Perhaps upon the various planets it may be that the same lines of differences prevail, as between the heathen tribes and the civilized people on earth. There at least we are sure that physiologically no marked difference exists between the lowest savage and the wisest sage.”

“Except, perhaps, that the savage may have the best digestion,” I added. “Those look as if they had but few troubles and plenty to eat. I see no wrinkles or hard lines. Their forms and features are gracefully rounded. Their eyes are larger and stronger, with a liquid depth suited to this soft and weaker light. None of them wear beards, and very little hair is visible. I must say they do not look at all warlike. If we could only make them understand that we are friendly, I think they would gladly bid us to a feast of freshly-cooked meats and good wines, and ask us, chuckling, for the latest after-dinner stories that are current on Earth.”

“Make friendly signs to them, and see how they behave,” he suggested.

I slowly waved my hand to them to approach, and extended my arm as if to shake hands. While talking with the doctor I had stood perfectly still, and they had been warily watching me all the time. When I moved and stretched out my arm, they took fright and fled precipitately.

“I have scared them away, as if they were a lot of roe deer!” I exclaimed.

“Then let us hasten preparations while they are gone,” he replied. “If you can stand the pressure I have given you, it will be safe to throw off the helmet and suit.”

Upon lifting the cover from my head, I caught a draught of fresh cold air that was unspeakably invigorating. I drank it in deep breaths, and felt like skipping about for joy. Kicking off the suit that trammelled me, I put it and the helmet back inside and closed the port-hole. Then the doctor pulled away the bulkhead and breathed the mixed atmosphere, half-Martian from my compartment and half-Earthly from his. He suffered no inconvenience from the sudden half-way step toward a lower density, and presently he emerged into the exhilarating air with me.

“This atmosphere has a stimulation in it like thin wine, and it gives me an appetite. I feel strong and virile enough to tip Mars topsy-turvy,” I said. “At least, let me get some cigars to smoke while we are arming our stronghold.”

When I went in for the guns, I put a handful of Havanas in my vest pocket, and emerging, I laid the rifles handy and proceeded to light a weed. I was watching the bright flame of the match, and puffing with gusto at the fragrant smoke, when from another direction a second squad of Martians came into view very near us. They immediately halted and gazed at us in open-mouthed wonder, which soon changed to a look of horror. Remembering the pipe of peace among the American Indians, I drew out a cigar, and hastily striking a match upon my trousers, I held the weed and flame toward them. Not a man of them stayed to see any more. Their flight was more precipitate than the other party’s had been.

“It was your smoke they were afraid of,” said the doctor. “Whenever you puffed, I saw them looking at each other blankly and dropping back a little. They have taken you for a fire-eater and a smoke-breather, and when you drew the flame from your lungs it was too much for them. But all this serves our purpose of frightening them. They will spread strange stories in the city below!”

I helped him carry out the telescope, and we placed it in a commanding position. Then we propped up the broad shields, so that each of us could crouch behind one, and I laid a broadsword and rifle handy to each. Then we put on the linked-wire shirts under our coats, buckled the revolvers about us, and, as it was rather cold, we each put on a thick pair of gloves and a heavy topcoat.

The doctor, who was carefully watching things down in the city through the telescope, cried out to me presently,—

“There is wild commotion and great excitement down yonder by the great palace. The news has reached them! They are preparing to come in force to take us!”

“I wish I knew what their sign of peace is, we might save a conflict,” said I. “Perhaps our fire-arms won’t harm them.”

“More likely they will blow them all to pieces,” answered the doctor. “But we must not fire unless it becomes absolutely necessary to defend ourselves, for if we kill any of them, they will then have cause to deal with us as dreadfully as they can. We cannot hope to overcome them all. It will be enough to demonstrate our supremacy, so that they will allow us to live among them. Therefore, let us simply defend ourselves and do nothing offensive, thus showing that we are peaceably disposed.”

“You cry peace, but look at the great army they are sending against us!” I exclaimed. “There are four companies of foot soldiers marching through the streets, and each man is armed with a very long cross-bow and wears a brightly-coloured bird-wing on his forehead. The streets are filling with people to see them pass. Now three more companies wheel out of the palace, but they have no cross-bows. They are whirling something around their heads.”

The doctor anxiously awaited his turn at the telescope, and as he looked he clutched his pistol though they were still several miles away.

“Those are slings they are whirling about their heads,” he said. “And the commander of each company rides an ambling donkey, and wears a heavy plaited beard and long braided hair, without head covering.”

“But look further back, coming out of the palace now!” I cried. “What are those strange, stately animals far behind the soldiers? I can see them with the naked eye.”

“Donnerwetter! what towering birds!” he muttered under his breath. “Like ostriches in form, but as tall and graceful as a giraffe! There is a man riding astride the neck of each of them, yet he could scarcely reach half-way to their heads!”

“Are those monstrous things birds?” I demanded. “Let me look. What long and bony legs they have! They would stride over us without touching our heads; but how they could kick!”

“And how they could run!” put in the doctor. “See, they stride easily over seven or eight feet with a single step. They must be messenger birds, for there are only four of them, and their riders are not armed.”

“They may have hundreds more of them in reserve, and they could fight far more viciously than the men. See what a wicked beak and what a long muscular neck they have. They could crush a skull in a twinkling with one swift swoop of that head! I will fight the men, but I will take no chances with those birds!”