Chapter Fourteen

'Is that the leader?' Bambera asked.

'Yes,' Helmond said quietly. 'Xznaal.' She was terrified that it would see her, even across the crowded square. The Brigadier looked from the single Martian to the thousands of civilians. They were watching the alien with awe, all of them aware that this was the most important thing that they would ever see. They were mere footnotes in history, witnesses, not instigators and whatever else they did, wherever else they went, this was the defining moment of their lives. None of them were important. For well over a full minute, the great mass of people were almost deathly quiet.

The Martian didn't move, it stood there like a great, old tree or a statue hewn from a block of jade.

Below it, the crowd was shifting around, rustling like leaves. Some news was spreading among them.

'The warship's moving,' someone - a civilian or a soldier, Alistair didn't know - announced.

Alistair spun around. The metal sky to the East was turning slowly and drifting forwards. All around them, UNIT radios squawked as the spotters around London began relaying the news. The Brigadier checked his watch.

'The refinery?' Bambera asked.

'Why wait until now?' he replied. 'It's been nearly ten minutes.'

'Then that means... '

The warship was heading towards them, there was no doubt about it. The two Brigadiers were looking at each other, hoping the other would think of something to do.

The warship eclipsed the afternoon sun over Trafalgar Square.

Below them, the crowd fell quiet.

As darkness dropped, the silence swept through the crowd like a Mexican wave. Alistair watched, and felt the mood change. From his vantage point, he could see it all, the high spirits had become darker. A group of young men were fighting each other in front of Dillons. The crowd were pulling back from the Space Museum, some were trying to get away, and they jostled with those who were transfixed, watching the sky. One spark and this crowd would erupt into terrible violence.