Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space travelers -- Fiction
At the top of the steps on a magnificent golden throne, sat the Emperor
himself. There are some busts of Caracalla which I have seen that are
almost as ugly as the face of the Martian ruler. He was of gigantic
stature, larger than the majority of his subjects, and as near as I
could judge must have been between fifteen and sixteen feet in height.
As I looked at him I understood a remark which had been made by Aina to
the effect that the Martians were not all alike, and that the
peculiarities of their minds were imprinted on their faces and expressed
in their forms in a very wonderful, and sometimes terrible manner.
I had also learned from her that Mars was under a military government,
and that the military class had absolute control of the planet. I was
somewhat startled, then, in looking at the head and center of the great
military system of Mars, to find in his appearance a striking
conformation of the speculations of our terrestrial phrenologists. His
broad, mis-shapen head bulged in those parts where they had placed the
so-called organs of combativeness, destructiveness, etc.
Plainly, this was an effect of his training and education. His very
brain had become a military engine; and the aspect of his face, the
pitiless lines of his mouth and chin, the evil glare of his eyes, the
attitude and carriage of his muscular body, all tended to complete the
warlike ensemble.
He was magnificently dressed in some vesture that had the luster of a
polished plate of gold, and the suppleness of velvet. As we approached
he fixed his immense, deep-set eyes sternly upon our faces.
The contrast between his truly terrible countenance and the Eve-like
features of the women which surrounded his throne was as great as if
Satan after his fall had here re-enthroned himself in the midst of
angels.
Mr. Edison, Colonel Smith, Sydney Phillips, Aina and myself advanced at
the head of the procession, our guard following in close order behind
us. It had been evident from the moment that we entered the palace that
Aina was regarded with aversion by all of the Martians. Even the women
about the throne gazed scowlingly at her as we drew near. Apparently,
the bitterness of feeing which had led to the massacre of all of her
race had not yet vanished. And, indeed, since the fact that she remained
alive could have been known only to the Martian who had abducted her and
to his immediate companions, her reappearance with us must have been a
great surprise to all those who now looked upon her.
It was clear to me that the feeling aroused by her appearance was every
moment becoming more intense. Still, the thought of a violent outbreak
did not occur to me, because our recent triumph had seemed so complete
that I believed the Martians would be awed by our presence, and would
not undertake actually to injure the girl.
I think we all had the same impression, but as the event proved, we were
mistaken.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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