(Extract from the Note-book of the Secretary of the Earth and Mars Intercommunication Company, Limited.)
August 10, 1899.—Open this book just to jot down briefly the results of our efforts to hold a conversation with the people living in the adjacent planet. Get a better notion by this means of what we are doing than the minutes can afford. Shall leave this book as an heirloom to my successors in office. In 1892, when we were last nearest Mars (only at a distance of 35,000,000 miles or thereabouts), we came to the conclusion that the Marsians were trying to speak to us. They seemed to be making signals. With the assistance of our new telescope (six times as powerful as that of seven years ago), we made out what we took to be at first an old man waving a white hat. On more careful inspection, found that the old man was a volcano in a state of eruption. White hat evidently the smoke. Could distinctly locate the ocean. Unable to discover more, as the planet went off for another seven years' cruise.
August 10, 1906.—Jot down, in compliance with the wishes of my predecessor, the transactions of the Company. By the way, my new berth is a very pleasant one. Have nothing to do except every seven years, when we all have to watch Mars like anything. This time we have a first-class telescope. Fifty times as powerful as the one of seven years ago. Can count the hairs on a man's head at ten miles' distance. Mars seems quite close to us. There is a first-class hotel on one of the mountains, and apparently a very good paper, which by the way (like everything else on the planet), is red. Distinctly made out a man in a boat. Could not attract his attention. Stupid donkey! Have to wait for another seven years.
August 10, 1913.—Again ready. Better telescope than one in use seven years ago. Find we can now read the Marsian newspapers. They are written in same language as our own. Nothing in them worth quoting. Evidently "silly season" over there as well as here. Account of the Sea Serpent. Let off patent sky-shattering rockets, but the inhabitants of the adjacent planet failed to observe them. They have arranged bonfires in geometrical order, so far as we can understand it, as a signal (if it is one); they seem to wish to observe something like "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay." Interesting. Popular song of fourteen years ago just reached our nearest neighbour in the Solar System. Cannot observe more, as the planet is off for another seven years.
August 10, 1920.—We ought to do something this time. Improved telescope; can see everything. So excellent that we can almost hear the Marsians talking, Great advance, too, in through-space-hurling machinery. We applied this new power to a pea-shooter, and, at the first shot, was sufficiently fortunate to hit a Marsian policeman on the nose. He first arrested an innocent person for the assault, but, on our repeating the signal, he looked up, and shook his fist at the Earth. Eventually he traced the source of the pea-shooting. They then began to watch our signals. They were just about to reply when we started off for another seven years.
August 10, 1927.—I take up my predecessor's book to continue these observations. Deeply interested to see if the inhabitants of the neighbouring planet would remember the date, and be on the look out for us. Yes, there they were. We have just signalled "How are you?" But it has received, as yet, no reply. The Marsians seem to be signalling, but not in our direction. We have just tried another message, "Good morning; do you use soap?" Ah, this has woke them up! They do understand us. They have replied, "Don't be rude." We are greatly encouraged by this, and have signalled "The planet Mars, we believe?" This has elicited no response. Strange! We have begged for a reply, and it has just come. Here it is:—"Don't bother; can't attend to you just now. We are talking with the planet Jupiter." Time up! Off for another seven years!
August 10, 1934.—Just one line to add to the other communications of my predecessors. The Earth and Mars Intercommunication Company, Limited, has been merged into the London, Jupiter, Venus, Mars, and North Saturn Aërial Railway Company. During the present near approach of Mars to the Earth, an excursion electric air-torpedo train will leave the Victoria Station for Pars the Capital of Mars. The excursion will be personally conducted by Baron COOK of Ludgate Circus. Return tickets, Second Class, £1,000; First Class (with hotel coupons), Half an ounce of coal.
