CHAPTER 7: EPILOGUE

Violet's arrival, along with the others, had confirmed that my family in Bunnyburrow had survived. Though they were upset at the decimation of their home, they would rebuild it, bigger and better than ever before. Just like I had been told from when I was a kit, and just like I had recited to Mom that last time we had spoken before I left for Zootopia, Bunnyburrow isn't just a place, it's the mammals that make it. And most of the mammals had survived. What surprised me most of all was that a relationship had begun between Gideon Grey and Sharla. They had found each other during their flight from Bunnyburrow and had stuck together throughout the month the Earth was under the Martians. I don't need to tell you that Sharla shared the same history with Gideon Grey that I did, and that they hadn't quite come to terms with each other before the Martians had struck, but in the face of a much worse threat, they had found common ground. I suppose a crisis does make for strange bedfellows, but I could hardly complain on that front given that I became a cop, and Nick had come from a hustling background. And, it was actually kind of sweet, in a way. Gideon had changed a lot even before the invasion, and themes like those had the effect of changing mammals' perspectives.

Six years have passed since the Martian attack on Earth. I'm just a humble ZPD cop, so all I can do is recount my experiences, and those of the mammals I knew had been affected. I can't provide special insight into technical things, but in the days and months that passed following what mammalkind had taken to calling 'the Dawn', a lot of things had come to light about the invaders and the survivors.

The first thing was what autopsies had uncovered on the unexpected deaths of the Martians. There was nothing found in their systems that would have caused great concern had it been found in us. Bacteria common to every mammal was there. They found evidence of viral infections that we, as mammals, had long since stamped out or become resistant to – either through evolution, natural resistance, or through vaccines and medicinal treatments. Myxomatosis, rabies… heck, even the common cold. Since that was the case, scientists came up with a possible theory: that, on Mars, they had successfully eradicated the bacteria and viruses that existed there, those things that cause all illnesses and morbidities. They had not known disease, much less death from it, and they didn't know about the kinds of bacteria and viruses on Earth, not even those that broke down the dead, which was why they left the bodies of their victims to rot in the streets. Of course, without these things on Mars, it meant they had no resistance to any of it. The moment they started feeding on us, exposing themselves to the bacteria and disease that had been a part of mammalkind forever, they were doomed. It was ironic that it was not the vast technologies at the disposal of mammalkind that had killed them, but the humblest things on the planet – minute, invisible, the things we had beaten back ourselves.

Those who specialised in weaponry attempted to decipher the composition of the Black Smoke, as well as the mechanism that generated their Heat-Rays. All those attempts were unsuccessful. In fact, attempts to replicate the Heat-Ray, in laboratories in the Meadowlands, proved so disastrous that further attempts to manufacture a Heat-Ray generator were scrapped completely.

Within a month, the remainder of the Red Weed had died off. Apparently, our soil and water contained nutrients and microbes that proved to be as deadly to it as the germs in our own bloodstreams proved to the Martians themselves. The natural green of our planet returned in time, as if that invasive creeper had never even been here.

Every once in a while, my thoughts turned towards Private Savage, wondering whatever became of him. He must have been devastating to have his dreams of a brave new world shattered. I also thought of the honey badger. I have long since come to terms that there was nothing I could have done to save her, even if I still felt the occasional flare of survivor's guilt. After all, you can't help everyone.

A question of greater concern for the whole of mammalkind was that the Martians might try again. But the element of surprise had been lost: we knew exactly what to expect now. As unwelcoming it might seem to other outside forces, we had the advantage of knowing the method of the Martian arrival. Should a cylinder land upon Earth again, the military could surround it and blow it apart before the lid even came off, or else massacre the Martians inside. There was also the revelation of their total, deadly vulnerability to the bacteria of Earth. If I were the Martians, I would also see it that way, and that would persuade me against making another attempt on Earth.

It hadn't stopped them from trying elsewhere, though. Astronomers had been keeping a hawk's eye on Mars since the Dawn. Seven months ago, Mars and Venus had been in alignment the exact same way Earth had been six years back. Footage had been broadcast all over ZNN from a satellite that showed a familiar green flare, drawing a green mist, this time aiming for the pearl-like surface of that planet. Several nights later, impacts could be observed on Venus. Maybe they'd have ended there, because Venus has a much denser atmosphere compared to Earth, which meant that it was also far hotter and the pressure would be much greater. They struggled to even stand without their machines here, they would surely be crushed unless they had devised some way of relieving that atmospheric pressure – which wasn't at all impossible given the small glimpse we had at their technology.

At any rate, whether we can expect another invasion or not, the Martians had a profound effect on views of the future of mammalkind. We now know we can't take for granted that we are the only life in the universe, sitting alone upon this rock. If you took the long view, the invasion from Mars might not have been without benefit for us. I know, I know. It sounds crazy, right? I would have discounted that completely had somebody said that to me back then. All I could see was the ruins of the life we once took for granted. We had lost that serene confidence that we once had in ourselves, but there's no denying that, even if we couldn't reverse-engineer everything that the Martians had brought to Earth, they had provided us with many gifts to benefit mammal science. And if there were any lingering doubts about the unity of mammalkind before, any animosity between the predator and prey species, they were now gone, replaced by a unification that I don't even remember seeing in the wake of the Night Howler plot. Nevertheless, it might be that the Martians had watched across the vastness of space, had witnessed the fate of their pioneers, and had learned their lessons. Maybe they would strike lucky and secure a better settlement on Venus. While we had foolishly discounted life on Mars, Venus was far more inhospitable, but if any species could make that planet their home and survive, it was the Martians.

Even then, even now, and I suspect for the foreseeable future, mammalkind's eyes will remain upon Mars in caution, watching for indication of another attempt upon Earth. A reminder stood permanently in Hyenahurst: one of the Fighting-Machines, made safe, towered over the place that had once played host to the Martians' main camp.

One of the biggest boons for us was that the Martians had proved to us that travel between planets was possible. It might take years, even decades, for us to get to the level they had, but we would get there eventually. Heck, maybe when we do, if we reach Mars or Venus, we might fare better on second contact with the Martians. It's been shown throughout that they are intelligent, even if they had lacked foresight in their attempt on Earth, and there was an argument to be made that that was in desperation at depleted resources on their home planet. What would contact look like if they succeeded on Venus where they had failed with Earth?

Then again, who knew what the future held? Maybe the future didn't belong to mammalkind at all. Maybe it belonged to the Martians.

All I know in this moment is that I am not alone. As I recount this tale, Nick is beside me, clutching my paw with his own. It seems totally strange to me now that I had nearly counted him, and he had counted me, among the dead.

ZOOTOPIA: THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

FIN

And so we reach the end of this retelling! I have to say, this story has been a lot of fun to make, even though it's also been one heck of a rollercoaster. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

I'll be posting a behind-the-scenes journal on DeviantArt later on today with some notes about what went into this, along with scrapped ideas and original thoughts. Stay tuned for that, and see you at the next story!