I don't own War of the Worlds, only HG Well's does.
Please let me know what you think of this oneshot set after the original movie from 1953.
All alone in the night.
Mars was bright tonight.
Dr Clayton Forrester sighed as he looked up into the night sky through the telescope he had bought for the occasion, though he had had the instrument for a long time now. Forrester rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was tired, another long day working in the new scientific elite that had sprung up after the last Martian invasion. Hundreds of them had been set up in the aftermath of the invasion about 8 years ago which had ended with Mankind on the very edge of extinction while the Martian war machines glided on their electromagnetic legs across the world laying waste to every town, city, village and settlement that they came across before the Martians died of the germs that were present in Earth's atmosphere.
Forrester turned his gaze away from the shining planet and looked over his shoulder to the little house he and his wife had purchased after the war. It was a little-prefabricated thing which had become common after the invasion; so many buildings had been destroyed by the Martians and the survivors of the conflict had needed to be crammed into what was left while everyone tried to rebuild, and the death toll was finally settled. Sylvia and Forrester had shared over a dozen places like that as they had helped with the rebuilding of their world while the military kept watching in case the Martians sent off another barrage of cylinders; Forrester doubted it would happen so soon, and he had been pleased he had been proven right, after the Martians had died out because of the germs and it would take a while for the aliens still on Mars to properly find a solution to the problem.
As he stared out into the night sky, Forrester knew he was one of millions (maybe more, but he wasn't counting) who was doing the same thing this time of night now that Mars and the Earth were closer together; keeping watch on the red planet out of fear of what could come next. As he sat down on the hill, ignoring the small box of sandwiches he had prepared for himself and the flask of coffee his wife had brewed for him, Forrester had time to think.
The reconstruction of Earth that had been going on for the past eight years was still ongoing and probably would be for another ten. So many cities had been destroyed, so many people had been displaced out of them while the Martian invasion carried on, so many had died or had gone missing.
It was hard for him to believe the invasion had occurred on a peaceful evening that would eventually become a nightmare as the Martian heat rays and skeleton beams carved a path of murder and destruction. No-one observed the peace anymore when Mars and the Earth drew closer together as they moved on their orbits around the sun, now everyone looked up into the night sky with fear and worry. Forrester knew that all around the world, the military bases that had been augmented with Martian technology were looking into the night sky, watching and waiting for the impending signs of the cylinders that carried the war machines. It had been eight years but everyone was still afraid and Forrester could hardly blame them; he had raced through the burning streets of Los Angeles after that mob of panicked fools had smashed the equipment and chemicals packed onto the truck that would have helped them wipe out the Martians after the atomic bomb that had been dropped on their nest had failed. He knew how terrifying the Martians had been; they might have been physically weak, but their technology more than made up the difference.
There were no cylinders tonight.
Earth was all alone in the night.
But Forrester knew everyone like himself and Sylvia looked into the night sky with fear and worry. Many people believed that the Martians would never return, but Forrester had his doubts as did many other people; they didn't know just how many Martians had been sent to Earth out of their entire population, so the chances the Martians could return were high. When and if they did return, the Martians would probably be much harder to fight back. They were not stupid; they knew humanity had access to their cylinders and their war machines, and they had probably guessed the humans were tearing them to pieces to find out how they worked. If they were to return then the Martians would revise their strategies and do something to make their technology three times harder to crack.
Forrester was not looking forward to the next war. He knew it would come soon enough.
As he always did whenever he thought about it, or whenever he was asked about what he personally thought because the story of that time he and Sylvia had been trapped inside that farmhouse with the Martian war machine outside had gotten out and since then he had gained a lot of recognition because he was part of the leading team in studying the leftover Martian technology, Forrester took a good long look at the possibilities.
Many people asked him if he believed the Martians would return.
And he always said yes, if they had had the right population on Mars and he was sure they had, then the Martians could return and in more considerable numbers.
Looking into the night sky towards Mars, Forrester wondered what was going on on Mars at that moment. Were there still Martians? Had they studied the war that had been fought on Earth? Had they learnt from their mistakes? Had they begun upgrading their technology to make it stronger than the previous generation?
He didn't know. All he could do was guess.
Forrester closed his eyes and remembered how the Earth had been during those early days after the invasion. So much had been destroyed, so many had been killed. Forrester was lucky that scientists like himself had been put to work in studying Martian technology in the hopes of finding ways of using derivatives into making the reconstruction of the numerous cities that had been destroyed easier. For the most part, he and the others had succeeded. Not for the first time, Forrester was eternally grateful nuclear physics was around, it helped them understand many principles behind some of Martian technology. They had access to the same skeleton beam technology, but they were still a long way from understanding how to miniaturise the technology, which was what the government wanted.
They wanted to have rifle like weapons modelled on the Martian predecessor, but it would be some time before they could do it. Forrester closed his eyes as he remembered the stress he and his fellow scientists and some of them were friends in nuclear physics had in trying to investigate how the technology worked. Too many people - most of the politicians and soldiers, not scientists - believed that the Martian technology would solve all of their problems. They may as well ask and other scientists to wave a collective magic wand and fix their problems.
Not all of the reconstructive work was beneficial - some were more concerned with looking out for their own, and they had seized the Martian technology and were busy using it to threaten those nearby. Forrester closed his eyes in irritation - the disease caused by the isolationist attitude that permeated their world was still there even if they knew they were not alone in the cosmos.
"Clayton?" Sylvia's quiet voice broke through his thoughts and he turned around.
"Sylvia," he whispered, patting the ground next to him. "Sit down. Is everything okay?"
"Just about," she shrugged and sat down next to him and sighed as she looked out into the sky. Forrester kept his eyes firmly on her face. Sylvia had been overwhelmed when the Martians had invaded, but she had become a truly formidable force in reconstructing their world. "Is there anything out there?"
"No, it's quiet. Same as ever," he replied.
Sylvia chuckled. "The same as it's been for the last eight years," she observed, "I remember when one of the first cylinders crashed on Earth. I was with Uncle Matthew," her voice choked as she remembered how her beloved uncle who had served as the vicar of their town had been burnt to a crisp by the Martians heat ray when he had tried to make peace with them, "and I saw it coming down. I don't want anyone else to go through what we did."
"I know," Forrester replied and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Sylvia took a breath. "I want you to be honest with me," she began, and he immediately said, "I'm always honest with you."
"I know," she said quickly, but she clarified what she meant, "you always say the Martians will return, but you never say whether we'll win or not."
Forrester was silent as he considered….. "I think it would go both ways," he said, "we might be able to win one or two battles, but so will they, thanks to the weapons we've reverse engineered. As for the germs….. well, the Martians are not stupid. I think they would have done what soldiers throughout history have done; sent messages to their generals about what has been happening."
Sylvia shuddered at the thought of creatures identical to the Martian that had placed its three-fingered hand on her shoulder in the farmhouse going over plans to conquer the Earth and basing their strategies on reports of the war machines levelling every inch of Earth to make way for the rest of the Martian race.
"What about the germs?"
Forrester sighed. "Honestly? I don't think we can count on them saving us if the Martians come back," he paused for a second as his eyes scanned Sylvia's frightened face, "They are highly intelligent, and it's likely they know what happened to their previous force. They may have improved on their technology, so if they arrived we might be equal to them or they might be beyond us. I don't know. I really don't know, Sylvia."
"But you think an invasion is going to happen again, don't you?"
Forrester nodded. "Yes. It's only a question of time. We're all alone in the night, Sylvia. Sooner or later, we're going to encounter the Martians again. But every government on the Earth are studying everything those war machines have, and nuclear physicists are busy studying the weapons they have. So we still have a chance."
Sylvia looked hopeful. But he could tell she was frightened that the next time the Martians arrived on Earth to continue their plans to take over the planet and wipe humanity out they may not survive. They'd narrowly survived it the last time, how could they hope for the best the next time?
They truly were alone in the night.