Chapter Fourteen

'M-massive displacement of material,' Ogilvy stammered, not daring to look at Xznaal. 'Millions of tonnes of rock and sand. Like the aftermath of a volcanic eruption. After Krakatoa, thousands of square miles were covered in ash, and the whole world had spectacular sunsets for years afterwards.'

He glanced over at Xznaal, who was almost hunched. The Martian's head was low, the crown it had been wearing had fallen off, and the only sign that it was still alive was the regular, asthmatic breathing.

'Ssunssetss?' it coughed.

Xznaal was pulling itself straight. It resembled a JCB or a similar piece of machinery - so much power, in such a hard body. Xznaal's claws snapped open and shut, a gesture of powerlessness that Ogilvy found disturbingly human.

'I... ' Ogilvy couldn't think of a single thing to say and turned to David Staines for support, but the Home Secretary had vanished. Lord Greyhaven's broken body was still there. Ogilvy tried to form a smile, even a weak one, but couldn't. He tried to say some consoling words, but none came out.

Xznaal was staring into the monitor again. Then it turned, and lumbered from the room. Ogilvy swallowed, waiting until the Martian was out of sight, then he began running for the fire exit.

There was a scream from the crowd.

'Now what?' Bambera scowled.

The two Brigadiers turned back to the Space Museum. At the bottom of the steps was a Martian. Even at Allen Road, the Brigadier had only seen the enemy as he was running from it, or shrouded in darkness. All he knew was that they were heavily armoured, like an armadillo or a rhino, and that they were big. In broad daylight, standing there, the Martian lost none of its majesty, indeed it looked even more powerful. Everyone in the crowd was wild-eyed, they were clambering over each other to get a look.

The Brigadier unclipped his radio. 'This is Greyhound to all Traps. Hold your fire. Repeat: Hold fire.'