Війна світів
The Eve of the War
theblackandsilentobservatory,theshadowedlanternthrowingafeebleglowuponthefloorinthecorner,thesteadytickingoftheclockworkofthetelescope,thelittleslitintheroof—anoblongprofunditywiththestarduststreakedacrossit. Ogilvymovedabout,invisiblebutaudible. Lookingthroughthetelescope,onesawacircleofdeepblueandthelittleroundplanetswimminginthefield. Itseemedsuchalittlething,sobrightandsmallandstill,faintlymarkedwithtransversestripes,andslightlyflattenedfromtheperfectround. Butsolittleitwas,sosilverywarm—apin’s-headoflight! Itwasasifitquivered,butreallythiswasthetelescopevibratingwiththeactivityoftheclockworkthatkepttheplanetinview.
AsIwatched,theplanetseemedtogrowlargerandsmallerandtoadvanceandrecede,butthatwassimplythatmyeyewastired. Fortymillionsofmilesitwasfromus—morethanfortymillionsofmilesofvoid. Fewpeoplerealisetheimmensityofvacancyinwhichthedustofthematerialuniverseswims.
Nearitinthefield,Iremember,werethreefaintpointsoflight,threetelescopicstarsinfinitelyremote,andallarounditwastheunfathomabledarknessofemptyspace. Youknowhowthatblacknesslooksonafrostystarlightnight. Inatelescopeitseemsfarprofounder. Andinvisibletomebecauseitwassoremoteandsmall,flyingswiftlyandsteadilytowardsmeacrossthatincredibledistance,drawingnearereveryminutebysomanythousandsofmiles, cametheThingtheyweresendingus,theThingthatwastobringsomuchstruggleandcalamityanddeathtotheearth. IneverdreamedofitthenasIwatched; nooneonearthdreamedofthatunerringmissile.
Thatnight,too,therewasanotherjettingoutofgasfromthedistantplanet.
