The Eve of the War

At midnight on the twelfth of August, a huge mass of luminous gas erupted from
Mars and sped towards Earth. Across two hundred million miles of void,
invisibly hurtling towards us were the first of the missiles that were to bring so much calamity to Earth. As I watched, there was another jet of gas.
It was another missile starting on it’s way.
And that’s how it was for the next ten nights. A flare, spurting out from Mars
— bright green, drawing a green mist behind it — a beautiful, but somehow
disturbing sight. Ogilvy the astronomer, assured me we were in no danger.
He was convinced that there could be no living thing on that remote forbidding
planet.
«The chances of anything coming from mars are a million to one» he said
«The chances of anything coming from mars are a million to one — but still they
come!»
Journalist: Then came the night the first missile approached Earth.
It was thought to be an ordinary falling star, but next day there was huge
crater in the middle of the Common, and Ogilvy came to examine what lay there:
a cylinder, thirty yards across, glowing hot… And with faint sounds of movement coming from within.
Suddenly the top began moving, rotating, unscrewing, and Ogilvy feared there
was a man inside, trying to escape. He rushed to the cylinder, but the intense
heat stopped him before he could burn himself on the metal.
«The chances of anything coming from mars are a million to one — but still they
come!»
«The chances of anything coming from mars are a million to one» he said
«The chances of anything coming from mars are a million to one — but still they
come!»
«Yes, the chances of anything coming from mars are a million to one — but still
they come!»
It seems totally incredible to me now that everyone spent that evening as though it were just like any other. From the railway station came the sound of shunting trains, ringing and rumbling, softened almost into melody by the
distance.
It all seemed to safe and tranquil.