Christopher Priest - The Space Machine

She had gone deathly pale, and her eyes were closing. I placed my arm about her shoulders, and she shuddered instinctively, as if it had been that disgusting monster-creature, and not I, that had touched her.

“In the name of all that is good,” she said. “What have we come to?”

I said nothing, a deep nausea stifling all words and thoughts. I simply looked down again at the loathsome sight, and registered that in those few seconds the monster-creature had levelled its heat-cannon into the heart of the building on which we crouched.

A second later there was a massive explosion, and smoke and flame leapt about us!

In great terror, for in the impact more of the roof had fallen away behind us, we climbed unsteadily to our feet and headed blindly for the staircase by which we had ascended. Smoke was pouring, densely from the heart of the building, and the heat was intense.

Amelia clutched my arm as more of the fabric collapsed beneath us, and a curtain of flame and sparks flared fifty feet above our heads.

The stairs were built of the same rock as the walls of the building, and still seemed sound, even as gusts of heat were billowing up them.

I wrapped my arm over my nose and mouth, and closing my eyes to slits I plunged down, dragging Amelia behind me. Two-thirds of the way to the bottom, part of the staircase had fallen away and we had to slow our flight, reaching hesitantly for footholds on the jagged parts of the slabs remaining. Here it was that the conflagration did its worst: we could not breathe, could not see, could not feel anything but the searing heat of the inferno below us. Miraculously, we found the rest of the steps undamaged, and thrust ourselves down again at last emerging into the street, choking and weeping.

Amelia sank to the ground, just as several Martians rushed past us, screaming and shouting in their shrill, soprano voices.

“We must run, Amelia!” I shouted over the roar and confusion around us.

Gamely, she staggered to her feet Holding my arm with one hand, and still clutching her hand-bag with the other, she followed me as we set off in the direction taken by the Martians.

We had gone but a few yards before we came to the corner of the blazing building.

Amelia screamed, and snatched at my arm: the invading vehicle had driven up behind us, hitherto concealed by the smoke. Thought of the repulsive occupant was alone enough to spur us on, and we half-fell, half-ran around the corner… to find a second vehicle blocking our way! It seemed to loom over us, fifteen or twenty feet high.

The Martians who had run before us were there; some were cowering on the ground, others were milling frantically about, searching for an escape.

On the back of the monstrous vehicle the glittering, spider-like machine was rearing up on its metal legs, its long articulate arms already reaching out like slow-moving whip-cord.

“Run!”

I shouted at Amelia. “For God’s sake, we must escape!” Amelia made no response, but her clutch on my arm loosened, the hand-bag slipped from her fingers, and in a moment she fell to the ground in a dead faint I crouched over her, trying to revive her.

Just once I looked up, and saw the dreadful arachnoid lurching through the crowd of Martians, its legs clanking, its metal tentacles swinging wildly about. Many of the Martians had fallen to the ground beneath it, writhing in agony.

I leaned forward over Amelia’s crumpled figure, and bent over her protectively. She had rolled on to her back, and her face stared vacantly upwards. I placed my head beside hers, tried to cover her body with mine.

Then one of the metal tentacles lashed against me, wrapping itself around my throat, and the most hideous bolt of electrical energy coursed through me. My body contorted in agony, and I was hurled to one side away from Amelia!

As I fell to the ground I felt the tentacle snatching away from me, ripping open part of the flesh of my neck.

I lay supine, head lolling to one side, my limbs completely paralysed.

The machine advanced, stunning and crippling with its arms. I saw one wrap itself around Amelia’s waist, and the jolt of electricity broke through her faint and I saw her face convulsing. She screamed, horribly and pitiably.

I saw now that the foul machine had picked up many of those Martians it had stunned, and was carrying them in rolls of its glittering tentacles, some still conscious and struggling, others inert.

The machine was returning to its parent vehicle. I could just see the control-cab from where I was lying, and to my ultimate horror I suddenly saw the face of one of the abominable beings who had initiated this invasion, staring at us through an opening in the armour. It was a broad, wicked face, devoid of any sign of good. Two large pale eyes stared expressionlessly across the carnage it was wreaking. They were unblinking eyes, merciless eyes.

The spider-machine had remounted the vehicle, dragging in its tentacles behind it. The Martians it had seized were wrapped in folds of jointed, tubular metal, imprisoned in this heaving cage. Amelia was among them, pinned down by three of the tentacles, held without care so that her body was twisted painfully. She was still conscious, and staring at me.

I was totally unable to respond as I saw her mouth open, and then her voice echoed shrilly across the few yards of space that separated us. She screamed my name, again and again.

I lay still, the blood pumping from the wound in my throat, and in a moment I saw the invading vehicle move away, driving with its unnatural gait through the broken masonry and swirling smoke of the devastated city.

I do not know for how long I was paralysed, although it must have been several hours. I cannot remember much of the experience, for it was one of immense physical agony and mental torment, compounded by an impotence of such grossness that to dwell for even a moment on Amelia’s likely fate was sufficient to send my thoughts into a maelstrom of anger and futility.

Only one memory remains clear and undimmed, and that is of a piece of wreckage that happened to lie directly within my view. I did not notice it at first, so wild and blinding were my thoughts, but later it seemed to occupy the whole of my vision. Lying in the centre of the tangle of broken metal was the body of one of the noisome monster-creatures. It had been crushed in the explosion that had wrecked the vehicle, and the part of it I could see revealed an ugly mass of contusions and blood. I could also see two or three of its tentacles, curled in death.

In spite of my mute loathing and revulsion, I was satisfied to realize that beings so powerful and ruthless were themselves mortal.

At length I felt the first sensations returning to my body; I felt them first in my fingers, and then in my toes. Later, my arms and legs began to hurt, and I knew that control over my muscles was being restored. I tried moving my head, and al though I was taken with dizziness I found I could raise it from the ground.

As soon as I could move my arm, I placed my hand against my neck and explored the extent of my throat-wound. I could feel a long and ugly cut, but the blood had stopped flowing and I knew the wound must be superficial,otherwise I should have died within seconds.

After several minutes of trying I managed to lift myself into a sitting position, and then at last I found I could stand. Painfully, I looked about me.

I was the only living thing in that street. On the ground about me were several Martians; I did not examine them all, but those I did were certainly dead. Across by the other side of the street was the damaged vehicle, and its hateful occupant. And a few yards from where I stood, poignantly abandoned, was Amelia’s hand-bag.