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02 - The Falling Star - The War of the Worlds - H G Wells · Classic Sci Fi Books - Daily

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  Chapter two. The falling Star then came the night of the first falling Star.
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  It was seen early in the morning, rushing over Winchester eastward a line
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  of flame high in the atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it and taken it
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  for an ordinary falling star. Albin described it as leaving a greenish streak behind
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  it that glowed for some seconds. Denning, our greatest authority on meteorites,
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  stated that the height of its first appearance was about ninety or one hundred miles.
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  It seemed to him that it fell to Earth about one hundred miles east
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  of him. I was at home at that hour and writing in my study,
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  And although my French windows faced towards Ottershaw and the blind was up for
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  I loved in those days to look up at the night sky. I saw
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  nothing of it. Yet, this strangest of all things that ever came to
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  Earth from outer space must have fallen while I was sitting there, visible to
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  me. Had I only looked up as it passed. Some of those who
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  saw its flight say it traveled with a hissing sound. I myself heard nothing
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  of that. Many people in Berkshire, Surrey and Middlesex must have seen the
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  fall of it, and at most have thought that another meteorite had descended.
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  No one seemed to have troubled to look for the fallen mass that night,
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  But very early in the morning poor Ogilvy, who had seen the shooting star,
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  and who was persuaded that a meteorite lay somewhere on the common between hawsel
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  Otter Shore and Woking, rose early with the idea of finding it. Find
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  it he did, soon after dawn, and not far from the sand pits.
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  An enormous hole had been made by the impact of the projectile, and
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  the sand and gravel had been flung violently in every redirection over the heath,
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  forming heaps visible a mile and a half away. The heather was on fire
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  eastward, and a thin blue smoke rose against the dawn. The thing itself
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  lay almost entirely buried in sand amidst the scattered splinters of a fir tree.
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  It had shivered to fragments in its descent. The uncovered part had the appearance
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  of a huge cylinder, caked over and its outline softened by a thick,
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  scaly, dun colored incrustation. It had a diameter of about thirty yards.
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  He approached the mass, surprised at the size, and more so at the
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  shape, since most meteorites around it more or less completely. It was,
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  however, still so hot from its flight through the air as to forbid his
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  near approach. A stirring noise within its cylinder he ascribed to the unequal cooling
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  of its surface, for at that time it had not occurred to him that
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  it might be hollow. He remained standing at the edge of the pit that
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  the thing had made for itself, staring at its strange appearance, astonished chiefly
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  at its unusual shape and color, and dimly perceiving even then some evidence of
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  design in its arrival. The early morning was wonderfully still, and the sun
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  just clearing the pine trees towards Weybridge, was already warm. He did not
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  remember hearing any birds that morning. There was certainly no breeze stirring, and
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  the only sounds were the faint movements from within the sindery cylinder. He was
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  all alone on the common. Then suddenly he noticed with a start that some
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  of the gray clinker, the ashy incrustation that covered the meteorite, was falling
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  off the circular edge of the end. It was dropping off in flakes and
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  raining down upon the sand. A large piece suddenly came off and fell with
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  a sharp noise that brought his heart into his mouth. For a minute,
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  he scarcely realized what this meant, and although the heat was excessive, he
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  clambered down into the pit close to the bulk to see the thing more clearly.
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  He fancied even then that the cooling of the body might account for this,
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  But what disturbed that idea was the fact that the ash was falling only
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  from the end of the cylinder. And then he perceived that, very slowly,
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  the circular top of the cylinder was rotating on its body. It was
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  such a gradual movement that he discovered it only through noticing that a black mark
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  that had been near him five minutes ago was now at the other side of
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  the circumference. Even then he scarcely understood what this indicated, until he heard
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  a muffled grating sound and saw the black mark jerk forward an inch or so.
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  Then the thing came upon him in a flash. The cylinder was artificial
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  hollow with an end that screwed out. Something within the cylinder was unscrewing the
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  top. Good Heavens said Ogilvy, as a man in it, men in
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  it half roasted to death. Trying to escape at once. With a quick
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  mental leap, he linked the thing with the flash upon Mars. The thought
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  of the confined creature was so dreadful to him that he forgot the heat and
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  went forward to the cylinder to help turn, But luckily the dull radiation arrested
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  him before he could burn his hands on the still glowing metal. At that
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  he stood irresolute for a moment, then turned, scrambled out of the pit,
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  and set off, running wildly into Woking. The time then must have
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  been somewhere about six o'clock. He met a wagoner and tried to make him
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  understand, but the tale he told and his appearance were so wild his hat
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  had fallen off in the pit that the man simply drove on. He was
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  equally unsuccessful with the pot man, who was just unlocking the doors of the
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  public house by hawsel Bridge. The fellow thought he was a lunatic at large,
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  and made an unsuccessful attempt to shut him into the tap room. That
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  sobered him a little, and when he saw Henderson, the London journalist,
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  in his garden, he called over the palings and made himself understood Henderson,
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  He called, you saw that shooting star last night? Well, said Henderson.
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  It's out on Horsel Common. Now, good, lord, said Henderson.
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  Fallen meteorite. That's good. But it's something more than a meteorite.
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  It's a cylinder, an artificial cylinder. Man, and there's something inside.
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  Henderson stood up with his spade in his hand. What's that? He said,
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  He was deaf in one ear. Ogilvy told him all that he had
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  seen. Henderson was a minute or so taking it in. Then he dropped
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  his spade, snatched up his jacket, and came out into the road.
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  The two men hurried back at once to the common and found the cylinder still
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  lying in the same position, but now the sounds inside had ceased, and
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  a thin circle of bright metal showed between the top and the body of the
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  cylinder. Air was either entering or escaping at the rim with a thin sizzling
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  sound. They listened, wrapped on the scaly burnt metal with a stick,
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  and meeting with no response, they both concluded the man or men inside must
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  be insensible or dead. Of course, the two were quite unable to do
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  anything. They shouted consolate and promises, and went off back to the town
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  again to get help. One can imagine them covered with sand, excited and
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  disordered, running up the little street in the bright sunlight, just as the
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  shop folks were taking down their shutters and people were opening their bedroom windows.
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  Henderson went into the railway station at once in order to telegraph the news to
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  London. The newspaper articles had prepared men's minds for the reception of the idea.
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  By eight o'clock a number of boys and unemployed men had already started for
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  the common to see the dead men from Mars. That was the form the
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  story took. I heard of it first from my newspaper boy about a quarter
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  to nine, when I went out to get my daily chronicle. I was
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  naturally startled and lost no time in going out and across the Ottershore Bridge to
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  the sand pits. End of Section two.