When the Atoms Failed By John W. Campbell, Jr. _Our new author, who is a student at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, shows marvelous ability at combining science with romance, evolving a piece of fiction of real scientific and literary value. A careful perusal of this story should give the reader not only keen enjoyment, but a considerable amount of instruction, because most of our readers will want to confirm their views of cosmic topics, of atoms, of energy--atomic and material--and the other subjects that blend so well in the text of this tale. A great deal of interesting material may be found on these subjects in recent text books._ Illustrated by WESSO [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories January 1930. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Author's Foreword When the events of which I am to tell took place all the world was interested solely in their final outcome, but when that last awful day was ended, and time enough had passed to give our world a chance to find a way to apply and use the awful forces it had had forced upon it, or, indeed, had even found how to control their immense energies, men began to wonder about the true story of the Invasion. I had always been a writer, first newspaper work, then a book or two. Perhaps because of this the world expected that an account would soon be presented. But had those millions seen that awful battle, seen those mighty wrecks on the hot sands, even then might they understand my dread of telling of that titanic conflict--a conflict in which the weaker was a million times more powerful than any force man had previously seen! It still burns in my memory, that awful scene in its desolate setting--the vast rolling desert below, seared, blasted, fused in great streaks where the intense, stabbing heat rays had cut it, mighty craters blasted in its surface where the terrific explosions of the shells had heaved thousands of tons of sand into great mounds, and those ghastly wrecks that lay crushed and broken on the hot sands below, bathed in the ruddy light of the sun of sunset, now slowly sinking behind the distant purple hills, as the last of the Invaders crashed on the packed sands below. Two men of all Earth's billions saw that scene--but those two will never forget--as Stephen Waterson and I can testify. Ten years have passed, ten years of stupendous change, readjustment, and cosmic conquest. Ten years in which a world has been added to man's domain, yet still sharp and clear in my memory is the picture of those shapeless masses, those lumps of glowing metal, that lay on the sands beneath us, the sole vestiges of the mighty ships of Mars.