hundreds of them, with a bit of breakfast in their hand, running to catch their train, frightened they'd be sacked if they didn't. Well, the Martians will be a good thing for them. Nice big cages, fattening food, no worry. After a week or two running around the fields on empty stomachs they'll come and be caught quite happily.' He paused. 'The Martians will probably make pets of some of them; train them to do tricks -- who knows? And some, maybe, they will train to hunt us.'
'No,' I cried, 'that's impossible! No human being -'
'What's the good of going on with such lies?' said the soldier. 'There are men who would do it cheerfully. What nonsense to pretend there aren't!'
And I realized that I agreed with him.
I sat and thought about these things. It was interesting that he, an ordinary soldier, seemed to have a much better understanding of the situation than I, a professional writer.
'What plans do you have?' I said.
He hesitated.
'Well, we have to invent a life where people can live and have children, and be safe enough to bring the children up. Yes - wait a bit, and I'll make it clearer what I think ought to be done. The ones the Martians capture will be like farm animals; in a few years they'll be big, beautiful, stupid - rubbish. But we who stay free risk turning into wild animals.
'You see, I intend to live underground. I've been thinking about the drains. Under London there are hundreds of kilometres of them. And we can dig passages between the drains and buildings. And then there are the railways, where they go underground. You begin to see? And we'll get some people together - strong, clean-minded men. We're not going to accept any rubbish that comes in. Weak ones go out again.'
'As you intended me to go?'
'Well - I discussed it, didn't I?
'We won't argue about that. Go on.'
'The people who stay will obey orders. We want strong, good women too - mothers and teachers. No lazy ones with rolling eyes. We can't have any weak or silly ones. Life is real again, and the useless and bad ones have to die. They ought to die. They ought to be willing to die. It would be wrong of them to live and weaken the others.
'But it's no good just staying alive. That's just living like rats. We have to save our knowledge, and add to it. That's why men like you are needed. We must make great safe places deep underground, and get all the books we can; not novels and poetry, but ideas, science books. We must go to the British Museum and choose the best books in it. Especially, we must keep our science - learn more.'
The soldier paused and laid a brown hand on my arm.
'In fact, it may not be so difficult to learn how their fighting-machines work. Think of four or five of them with men inside, firing Heat-Rays back at the Martians!'
For some time the imagination of the soldier, and the confidence and courage he showed, persuaded me completely. 1 believed in his idea of the future and in the possibility of his plans. We talked like this through the early morning, and later came out of the bushes. After checking the sky for Martians, we hurried quickly to the house on Putney Hill where he had his hiding-place.
There I saw the work he had spent a week on. It was a passage about ten metres long, designed to reach the main drain on Putney Hill. For the first time I began to think that there was some distance between his dreams and his powers, because I could dig a hole like this in a day. But I believed in him enough to work with him all that morning at his digging.
As we worked I thought about the job, and soon some doubts began to come into my mind. I thought about the distance to the
drain and the chances of missing it completely. I also felt that it would be easier to get into the drain and dig back towards the house. And just as I was beginning to face these things, the soldier stopped digging and looked at me.
'We're working well,' he said. 'Let's stop. I think it's time we looked around from the top of the house.'
I wanted to continue, but a thought came to me.
'Why were you walking around on the common,' I asked, 'instead of being here?'
'Taking the air,' he said. 'It's safer by night.'
'But the work?'
'Oh, one can't always work,' he said, and in a flash I understood the man clearly.
We went together to the roof and stood on a ladder, looking out of the roof door. No Martians could be seen. We went back down into the house. Neither of us wanted to start digging again, and when he suggested a meal I was quite happy to agree.
Afterwards we drank wine and played cards. He won most of the games, and when we did not want to play any more I went back up on the roof.
I stayed there for a long time, looking north over the city. I began to feel that 1 had failed my wife, and decided to leave this dreamer of great things and to go on into London. There, it seemed to me, I had the best chance of learning what the Martians and human beings were doing.
Chapter 14 Dead London
After I had said goodbye to the soldier,