Chapter Four

'The British government has known about the existence of extraterrestrial life for over a century. Twenty years ago I was the commanding officer of a United Nations task force that tried to contain alien incursions. Describe these Martians,' the Brigadier ordered quietly.

The scientists at Mission Control watched helplessly as the picture and sound continued to break up. In between the bursts of static and the shouts of the astronauts there were just impressions that couldn't be assembled into a coherent narrative:

Hissing.

The sound of a visor cracking.

Red eyes, looming over them, burning like hot coals.

One of the torch beams snapping off.

A grunting, barking sound all around.

A claw like a giant crab's.

The camera lurching around.

Great slabs of green detaching themselves from the walls.

A woman's screams, cut short.

A pulsing sound, like air folding in on itself.

The picture and sound went dead.

David Staines tried to take a step back. He took a deep breath and turned to see what Lord Greyhaven was doing. No-one else in the room was looking at Greyhaven, and why would they when they had so much to do? The former Minister of Science was standing at the back of the Mission Control room, and surely his expression would be the one of horror worn by everyone else in the room. But no. He stood impassively, watching the screen as though it were some science fiction blockbuster. All his plans were in ruins, but he stood there like a rock.