Ch 9: The Man on Putney Hill
Again, I was on my way to London, through towns and villages that were blackened ruins, totally silent, desolate, deserted. Man's empire had passed away, taken swiftly and without error, by these creatures who were composed entirely of brain. Unhampered by the complex systems, which make up man, they made and used different bodies according to their needs. They never tired, never slept and never suffered, having long since eliminated from their planet the bacteria, which cause all fevers and other morbidities.
I arrived at Putney Hill, lost in thought. Suddenly, the silhouette of a man jumped out of a hill of rubble and aimed his rifle at me. "Halt! Who goes there?" "Er - friend." I said. He gestured me to leave. "Be on your way. This is my territory." "Your territory? What do you mean?" Suddenly, the man on the hill stopped, and lowered his gun. I recognized him when he came into the dim light. "Wait a minute - it's you! The man from Mayburry Hill!" "Good heavens! The artilleryman! I thought you surely burned." "I thought you surely drowned."
"Have you seen any Martians?" I asked. The artilleryman no longer smiled. "Everywhere. We're done for all right." "We can't just give up." I commented. He nodded. "Course we can't. It's now we've got to start fighting - but not against them 'cos we can't win. Now we've got to fight for survival, and I reckon we can make it. I've got a plan." "A plan?" I asked. "Come!" said the man, and I followed him past the rubble and corpses as he explained his idea.
"We're gonna build a whole new world for ourselves. Look, they clap eyes on us and we're dead, right?" I nodded. "So we gotta make a new life where they'll never find us. You know where? Underground. You should see it down there - hundreds of miles of drains - sweet and clean now after the rain; dark, quiet, safe. We can build houses and everything, start again from scratch." I gave him a confused look. "So you're saying that we either die by Martian Machines on the surface, or spend the rest of our lives as rats in a sewer, or a mole living under the dirt?" The artilleryman stopped and turned to face me. "And what's so bad about living underground, eh? It's not been so great living up here, if you want my opinion." He shook his head and I continued to follow him.
ARTILLERYMAN: Take a look around you at the world we've come to know
Does it seem to be much more than a crazy circus show?
But maybe from the madness something beautiful will grow
In a brave new world
With just a handful of men
We'll start - we'll start all over again!
All over again!
All over again!
All over again!
He led me to a ruined house as he continued to talk of his plan, "We'll build shops and hospitals and barracks right under their noses - right under their feet! Everything we need - banks, prisons and schools. We'll send scouting parties to collect books and stuff, and men like you," he pointed at me. "Will teach the kids. Not poems and rubbish; science and math, so we can get everything working. We'll build villages and towns and-and we'll play each other at cricket!"
The artilleryman continued, "Listen, maybe one day we'll capture a Fighting Machine, eh? Learn how to make 'em ourselves and then…wallop! Our turn to do some wiping out! Whoosh, with our Heat Ray! Whoosh! And they're running and dying, beaten at their own game! Man on top again!"
Then the artilleryman smiled at that idea and I can see by the look in his eyes that he was daydreaming of taking down some Fighting Machines and men on Earth making them their own, blasting the Martian Fighting Machines with Earthling Fighting Machines.
ARTILLERYMAN: Now our domination of the Earth is fading fast
And out of the confusion the chance has come at last
To build a better future from the ashes of the past
In a brave new world
Give me a handful of men
We'll start all over again !
Look - man is born in freedom but he soon becomes a slave
In cages of convention from the cradle to the grave
The weak fall by the wayside but the strong will be saved!
In a brave new world With just a handful of men
We'll start all over again
I'm not trying to tell you what to be
Oh no, oh no, not me
But if mankind is to survive
The people left alive
They're gonna have to build this world anew
And it's going to have to start with me and you
Yes!
I'm not trying to tell you what to be
Oh no, oh no, not me
But if mankind is to survive
The people left alive
They're gonna have to build this world anew
Yes and we will have to be the chosen few
Just think of all the poverty, the hatred and the lies
And imagine the destruction of all that you despise
Slowly from the ashes the phoenix will arise
In a brave new world
With just a handful of men
We'll start all over again
Take a look around you at the world you've loved so well
And bid the aging empire of man a last farewell!
It may not sound like Heaven but at least it isn't Hell It's a brave new world
With just a handful of men
We'll start - we'll start all over again!
I've got a plan!
We stopped at a doorway. "Can't you just see it?" continued the artilleryman. "Civilization starting all over again - a second chance. We'll even build a railway and tunnel to the coast; go there for our holidays. Nothing can stop men like us. And women I guess. I've made a start already. Come on down here and have a look." In the cellar was a tunnel scarcely ten yards long that had taken him a week to dig. I could have dug that much in a day, and I suddenly had my first inkling of the gulf between his dreams and his powers. "It doesn't look much," I admitted. "It's only the building blocks," said the man. "But with a few more people like us, our new world will be a reality!" I had my doubts that this man could actually make an underground utopia, but I humored him. He sat down and pulled out a bottle of champagne from a box. "It's doing the workin' and the thinkin' that wears a feller out. I'm ready for a bit of a rest. How about a drink eh? Nothing but champagne, now I'm the boss."
We drank and then he insisted upon playing cards. With our species on the edge of extermination, with no prospect but a horrible death, we actually played games. Later, he talked more of his plan, but I saw flames flashing in the deep blue night. Red Weed glowing, tripod figures moving distantly - and I put down my champagne glass. I felt a traitor to my kind and I knew I must leave this strange dreamer.
ARTILLERYMAN: Take a look around you at the world we've come to know
Does it seem to be much more than a crazy circus show
Maybe from the madness something beautiful will grow...
"Wait, where are you going?" I turned to face him. "I'm sorry, but you have to finish your project without me." I expected the artilleryman to get angry, but to my surprise, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Suit yourself." I could tell that he was disappointed.
(Sounded promising, did it? Not! I own none of the content in this story except the text I added.)