XX

Life at the castle followed its usual routine during the interval

between Mrs. Cornelius Van Dyk's dinner and opera party, and the

banquet at the Exploration Club, in Mr. Zzyx's honor, with one

exception, which I shall mention further on.

I was delighted to see that McGinity shared the place of honor allotted

to our family group at the banquet, and justly so, because he had put

Henry's discoveries and theories over in the biggest possible way.

Later in the evening, I found he had other honors accruing to him.

It was not until I was seated with the family party at the head of the

long U-shaped table, that I noticed the motion picture screen at the

far end of the dining room. Then the full significance of those secret

visits to a large film studio in Long Island City, on the part of

Henry, Olinski and McGinity, began to dawn upon me.

Gradually worming the secret out of McGinity, who sat on my left

(Jane was on my right) I was in possession of the complete facts of

the Martian revelations, shortly to be disclosed to this most highly

honored body of explorers and scientists, by the time the soup course

was over.

After Olinski had deciphered the Martian written message contained

in the mysterious scroll, found in the rocket, McGinity had put the

information contained therein into scenario form. A screen production,

backed by Henry's money, had been staged by one of the largest and most

progressive film corporations, at its Long Island City studio, with

Henry and Olinski acting in an advisory capacity.

I am telling this circumstantially, because the part McGinity played in

writing the scenario made the first real contribution to the solving of

the strange mysteries that enveloped us, and because it explains how I

myself in a small way became involved in the untangling of the web.

As we sat placidly at the banquet table, my last thought was that

within twenty-four hours we would be plunged into a series of events,

which savored of the sort of thing associated with sensational fiction,

or exciting melodrama on the screen.

At odd moments, I cast my eye across the table at Mr. Zzyx. His

prolonged sojourn under our roof had become a "beastly vulgar

business," quoting Jane's own words. Daily, we were growing more

resentful of his impenetrable stupidity, and utterly bored with his

gross and ugly presence. Often I felt myself in the mood to wring his

neck.

It was also perfectly clear to me that Henry was beginning to tire of

shouldering the responsibility of this big, lumbering creature, but so

far he had kept it to himself. I felt angrier with him that I had ever

been in my life, yet I was angry rather for him than with him. It was

so utterly unlike him to allow the family's unpleasant associations

with Mr. Zzyx to continue, when a word from him would have ended it.

The exception to our usual routine at the castle, during the week,

related to our guest from Mars. He was beginning to act very queerly.

I was of the opinion that a sort of madness was creeping on him,

brought on by the unnatural state in which he was living, the strange

food he ate so ravenously, and the constant excitement to which he

was subjected. One of the spookiest things he did was to move about

the castle during the night. Niki might be on guard, and Mr. Zzyx's

own bedroom door locked and bolted, but with uncanny skill both were

circumvented.

His first real outburst had come on the Friday night, preceding the

banquet. He began throwing things at Niki, and did considerable damage

to the furniture, pictures and walls in the State Apartment. When I

questioned Niki, he had dismissed the affair lightly, with the excuse

that Mr. Zzyx had been suffering from insomnia, and was not himself.

Certainly he was not himself at the Exploration Club banquet. During

the dessert course, I saw that he had not touched his charlotte russe,

and was making holes in the table-cloth with his fork. His pet hobby,

while dining, was to roll his bread into little balls, toss them up in

the air, and then catch them in his mouth as they fell, something I

considered inexpressibly vulgar and disgusting.

I was astonished that Henry, or Bishop Buckingham, who was a member of

our party, did not rebuke him for making holes in the cloth; but both

seemed preoccupied. In a state of anxiety, I glanced around at Pat, who

was sitting on McGinity's left. It was not strange to find that they

both were practically oblivious to their surroundings.

The speech-making was now going on, having begun shortly before coffee

was served. The speakers were long-winded and tiresome. I am neither

a student, nor a philosopher, but I would like some exponent of the

doctrine of psychology to explain why men talk so much and at such

great length at banquets. I've often wished that some bright person

would organize a society for the suppression of after-dinner speakers.

For fully half an hour, now, a little, rabbit sort of man, with big

ears and completely bald, and wearing tortoise-shell spectacles, had

been telling of his pursuit of prey, biped and quadruped, in distant

places, with minute detail of how he had killed one of every species of

beast and bird and fish in the world. The guests were showing signs of

impatience. Mr. Zzyx began making horrible grimaces, when Henry tapped

him warningly on the arm. Then he started to amuse himself making those

little bread balls. I became uneasy myself for fear he might throw one

of them at the speaker, something I wanted to do myself but did not

dare.

Then, suddenly, to my stunned astonishment, Mr. Zzyx picked up the

untasted charlotte russe, which is custard in a form made of sponge

cake, and hurled it at the speaker, who was directly opposite him. His

aim was true, and the little rabbit man got the charlotte russe full in

the face.

The guests roared with delight as the mighty hunter dug his features

out of the spattering custard, while Henry shook Mr. Zzyx sternly by

the arm, and whispered: "You ought to know better!"

Bubbling with mirth, I leaned over to McGinity, and said: "Too bad he

got it in the face." To this, the reporter replied: "The main thing is

that he got it."

After the bespattered speaker had gone to the lavatory to wash his

face, the toastmaster rose, and said: "Now that Mr. Zzyx, our honored

guest from Mars, has enlivened our dinner, we shall proceed to the

surprise event of the evening.

"No one is asked to accept these new disclosures about Mars which

our friend, Mr. Olinski, decoded from the mysterious writings of the

scroll, discovered in the rocket, as infallible," he continued. "Even

our fellow-scientist, Mr. Royce, who is accountable for this, and

other recent events of a scientific nature, which literally have rocked

the world, declares an uncertainty still exists in his own mind, and

that he is simply making public the information that has fallen into

his hands, from strange and unknown sources. In other words, he wishes

me to make clear to you all that he's not trying to put something over

on us. So, now, let's see what we shall see!"

The film, in four reels, was in the nature of a travelogue, beautifully

colored, and interspersed with sound and music. Henry was the pictorial

lecturer. McGinity's clever hand was seen in the numerous whimsies and

dramatic highlights. Many scenes were genuinely stirring.

Mr. Zzyx, closely guarded by Niki in the darkened dining room, watched

the picture unfold with fascinated interest. At times, he would

gesticulate, strangely, like one familiar with the subject matter, and

utter primitive sounds, as though he wanted to speak, and tell us more

startling things about his home planet.

This newly acquired and first-hand information of present day life

on Mars, presented in picture form, supplemented by the free play

of imagination on the part of the director, proved infinitely more

valuable as educational entertainment than the cold facts would have

been if delivered from the lecture-platform.

The picture divulged, first of all, that life on Mars had originated

and evolved the same as on the earth, with the white division of the

human species exercising supreme authority over the affairs of the

planet.

Secondly, it showed that the strange, geometric markings on the planet,

as studied by astronomers on earth, are not a canal system, or even

man-made. The lines, or bands, which some of our astronomers believed

to be canals, constituting a system of irrigation, are really deep

wide canyons, ten to twelve miles in width at the rim, and descending

2,000-3,000 feet below the sterile plateau-surface of the planet, with

cultivated vegetation in the bottom-lands.

The rims of these canyons are fortified with very high and very wide

stone walls, a military defensive work, with watch-towers, designed

as a protection for the white people who inhabit the canyons from

attack by their ancient enemy, the ape-men, who swarm over the tropical

regions in countless numbers.

These fortifications somewhat resemble the Great Wall of China, and

create a distinct boundary line. Following the course of the canyons,

and extending over the surface for many thousands of miles, like a

network, it is easy to understand how they were mistaken for the

lines of canals, or waterways, as viewed from the earth through our

great telescopes. Apparently these canyons were formed by volcanic

disturbances in the early ages of the planet, which shivered and rent

its surface into these stupendous fissures in the rock.

As a refuge from the bitterly cold nights peculiar to Mars, and

the constant cyclonic sand-storms, the canyons make an ideal place

of abode. The wind, it seems, blows eternally on Mars, kicking up

a fearful dust from the reddish deserts, and making the planet a

veritable dustbowl.

I must give Schiaparelli credit, however, for his discovery of the

canals, in 1877, for these canyons do really serve as water routes.

Running through them are great aqueducts which tap the arctic and

antarctic regions, into which the Martians pump water from the melting

snow and ice caps. As there are no seas on the planet, and very little

rainfall, this water is stored in huge reservoirs, and used largely

for irrigating the bottom-land of the canyons, thus rendering them

extremely fertile.

Around these reservoirs the white inhabitants cluster, not in cities,

but in vast cliff-dwelling communities, the sides of the canyons being

honey-combed with homes. The wind-power of the planet is converted into

electrical energy in immense funneled power-houses, just as we harness

water-power on the earth. The current generated by this method is used

to turn the wheels of industry, propel the passenger and freight trains

which rumble through the tunnels in the cliffs, connecting the various

communities, operate the elevators and escalators uniting the tiers of

cliff homes with the fortifications at the rim and the bottom-lands, as

well as supplying light and heat for all of the inhabitants.

I have always been puzzled as to how the Martians looked and dressed.

The picture interpretation of their daily life revealed tall, stalwart

men, with leathery complexions, owing to the lack of moisture in

the atmosphere, and graceful, really beautiful women, with classic

features, enveloped in veils from head to toe as a protection against

the climate. Men, women and children, all garbed and living as the

ancient Grecians, with the difference that to their colorful spectacle

of life is added the enjoyment of the benefits of scientific inventions.

I marveled at their magnificent temples, set in great plazas, in the

bottom-land of the canyons, over thermal springs. Temples largely of

glass construction, with airspace between the double walls, which are

lined with a transparent substance, resembling cellophane, evidently

to keep out the stinging cold of the nights. Grouped about each temple

were universities, libraries, museums and coliseums, also of glass, and

modeled after the highest forms of what we, on earth, call modernistic

art, but which is now regarded on Mars as a relic of ancient art.

As I gazed at the swift moving scenes, I was deeply impressed by the

similarity between Mars and Thibet, in Asia, in point of rarity of air,

climatic severity, and the superiority and authority of priests. Since

the Martians worship fire and water, and venerate as twin goddesses

their two tiny moons, which revolve so closely to their planet, I could

see how this excessive number of priests was really necessary for the

propagation of the State religion. Furthermore, the entire intellectual

and cultural life of Mars is vested in the priesthood, and naturally

all education and refinement center in the temple areas, just as the

industrial and agricultural activities seem to converge at the great

reservoirs.

All products, watered by irrigation, are grown under glass; and stored

summer sunlight, a process as yet unknown to science on the earth,

is used to melt the nightly deposits of frost which accumulate the

year round. Horses, cattle and sheep were shown peacefully grazing in

glass-enclosed corrals, which are electrically heated at night.

I observed particularly how all the homes in the sides of the canyons

had glass fronts, which made the towering steep rocks look like the

façade of a modern New York skyscraper. The power of the sun is not so

great on Mars as on the earth, consequently the practical utilization

of glass for living purposes is quite necessary for the conservation of

the sun's light and heat. The materials of which glass is made abound

on Mars, the great plateaus having a natural bed of glassy volcanic

rock.

If I were here sedulously to outline all of the startling revelations

concerning Mars I saw in this picture, it would take many pages; much

easier it will be to outline just a few more of the more important

disclosures. Unfortunately, there are a few taboos as far as the moral

law of our earthly civilization is concerned.

For instance, a specialized offspring is being produced on Mars to

save the white race from extinction. Respiratory diseases and their

frightening toll of lives, caused by the climatic extremes and the

particles of sand in the air, have long been a national calamity. For

the begetting and production of the young, the healthiest and most

beautiful women of the planet give themselves up to the State as a

patriotic duty. Their mates are carefully selected for their mental and

physical fitness.

These eugenic babies are born in special establishments attached to the

temples, and reared at the expense of the State. The unmarried mothers

were shown as they took part in the ceremonials of the temples; some

appeared as dancers, while others attended the sacred fire and water

shrines, also engaging in the weaving of fine tapestries and in rich

embroidery work.

As this strange phase of Martian life was unrolled to our view, I

suddenly remembered Jane, with a sinking feeling in the pit of my

stomach, but the room was too dark to observe what effect this scene

was having upon her. I must say that at no time did it seem vulgar and

lewd; everything was conducted in perfect good taste and propriety.

I was surprised to find that the Martians are ruled by a dictator, a

form of government of which I very much disapprove. A very despotic

dictator, who has the supreme power to frame the laws and order

punishment. And instead of labor unions, they have labor units--units

of agriculture, engineering, science, and so on, each with a leader

responsible to the dictator.

There's this to say about the Martians. Despite all the handicaps

imposed by nature, they manage to enjoy themselves. Fête days in the

temple areas are very frequent. In the coliseums they hold thrilling

chariot races and gladiatorial combats between trained ape-men from the

jungles, who use short swords.

I was rather horrified to learn that slavery is common among them,

which will account for the almost constant warfare between them and

the ape-men. The herculean task of building their fortifications,

which covered many centuries, was made possible by the employment of

the ape-men as slaves. The process of evolution seems to have slowed

up in the Martian tropics, leaving black, hairy creatures, in form and

in intelligence intermediate between the highest ape and man. These

ape-men worship the enormous wolf of the deserts, a war-like beast,

in peculiar rites of sacrifice and the blood-covenant, which is an

outspring of totemism, a stage in all human development.

In retaliation for the slave raids of the whites in the jungles, these

ape-men move against them in vast armies, and with surprising agility,

over the dead regions of the planet. When they leave their natural

location, they live upon the fruits and berries which grow in the many

oases scattered over the deserts, where thermal springs are found.

I could well imagine the frightful and devastating effect of these

ape-men armies once they were victorious over the whites. The picture

showed them attacking the fortifications, and being driven off with

showers of bombs filled with deadly gases. When they succeed in

plundering the temples, they carry off the cloistered white women as

captives to their jungle lairs.

Besides the ape-men and the hazards of climate, the white population

is also harassed continually by the foraging beasts, reptiles,

birds and insects from the waste regions and the jungles, who

destroy the plantations and devour the horses and cattle. To meet

the perils of the marauders, the whites maintain a standing-army,

scientifically-equipped. Quartered in the canyon fortifications, the

army uses a system of wireless-signaling from the watch-towers, to warn

the people when in danger of attack.

Getting a first view of these monsters of the Martian deserts and

tropical zone, a chill ran down my spine. Many of them were what we

term prehistoric monsters--the tapir, tree sloth, and dinosaur. I

gasped in horror at the sight of the insects from the jungles--beetles

having the bulk of baby elephants, and ants big and strong enough to

carry a man on their backs. And what at first I believed to be an

airplane, turned out to be an enormous, monstrous bat.

As the film moved swiftly onwards to its completion, the breathless

interest of the assembled scientists and explorers was concentrated on

the last episode, which proved to contain the most amazing revelation

of all.

The rays from the motion picture projector now seemed to flash upon

the silver screen like messages of hope. Hope for our white brethren,

on a faraway star, beset on all sides by danger, and threatened with

extinction. With increasing excitement, I watched, through a happy haze

of light, the great transformation that was now taking place in that

bright point of light that studs our darkling sky--the planet Mars.