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Originally published in December 1897, 'The War of the Worlds' is an early thrilling science fiction novel by H.G. Wells, an English writer.
The novel begins with humans watching the skies closely, fascinated with the worlds beyond Earth's atmosphere. As astronomers and scientists hone in on some bizarre occurrences on Mars, their observations soon become terrifying-humans are not the only intelligent beings, and those other beings are also curious about humans.
Alien spacecraft start crashing into England and as Martians emerge from the ships, they begin intimidating the Earth and bringing destruction with every step. Cities are burned, families are torn apart, and human military power proves weak in the face of an unknown enemy. This story is about surviving in the face of destruction, the human desire to protect one's home and loved ones, and a fascinating glance at how a harmful alien invasion could play out on Earth.
224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1898
The air was full of sound, a deafening and confusing conflict of noises – the clangorous din of the Martians, the crash of falling houses, the thud of trees, fences, sheds flashing into flame, and the crackling and roaring of fire. Dense black smoke was leaping up to mingle with the steam from the river, and as the Heat-Ray went to and fro over Weybridge its impact was marked by flashes of incandescent white, that gave place at once to a smoky dance of lurid flames. The nearer houses still stood intact, awaiting their fate, shadowy, faint, and pallid in the steam, with the fire behind them going to and fro.
Four or five little black figures hurried before it across the green-grey of the field, and in a moment it was evident this Martian pursued them. In three strides he was among them, and they ran radiating from his feet in all directions. He used no Heat-Ray to destroy them, but picked them up one by one. Apparently he tossed them into the great metallic carrier which projected behind him, much as a workman’s basket hangs over his shoulder.






Suddenly the foremost Martian lowered his tube and discharged a canister of the black gas at the ironclad. It hit her larboard side and glanced off in an inky jet that rolled away to seaward, an unfolding torrent of Black Smoke, from which the ironclad drove clear. To the watchers from the steamer, low in the water and with the sun in their eyes, it seemed as though she was already among the Martians…They saw the gaunt figures separating and rising out of the water as they retreated shoreward, and one of them raised the camera-like generator of the Heat-Ray. He held it pointing obliquely downward, and a bank of steam sprang from the water at its touch. It must have driven through the iron of the ship’s side like a white-hot iron rod through paper…



لتحرق و تدهس و تنشر الفناء و تسرق الامان.. و يلاحظ ان ويلز حرص على ان يكون الشر كامنا في باطن ارضنا..بيننا و ليس قادما من كواكب اخرى For that moment I touched an emotion beyond the common range of men, yet one that the poor brutes we dominate know only too well. I felt as a rabbit might feel returning to his burrow and suddenly confronted by the work of a dozen busy navvies digging the foundations of a house. I felt the first inkling of a thing that presently grew quite clear in my mind, that oppressed me for many days, a sense of dethronement, a persuasion that I was no longer a master, but an animal among the animals, under the Martian heel. With us it would be as with them, to lurk and watch, to run and hide; the fear and empire of man had passed away.




