The Martian War by Kevin J. Anderson Read Free Book Online Page A

at the earnest doctors inside the sealed lab. “If these geniuses are as talented as you say, Professor, they are sure to find a cure.”
    Huxley raised his eyebrows. “Ah, but they are not seekinga cure , Mr. Wells—they are attempting to derive military applications. Think what weapons such bacilli could become, if the germs were trained to recognize the difference between an enemy uniform and a loyal British soldier!”
    Wells chuckled at what he thought was a joke; Huxley did not. He moved on before the younger man could articulate his questions and skepticisms.
    With a grand gesture, Huxley opened the door to the next lab, covering his nose against the potent stench of acrid fumes. Wells rubbed his moustache and blinked stinging tears from his eyes. A single window near the ceiling struggled vainly to exhaust the noxious smokes.
    Waving to clear the air in front of his face, Huxley strode into the lab. “Allow me to introduce Dr. Hawley Griffin, one of our most brilliant, if unorthodox, organic chemists.”
    A dark-haired man worked diligently alone amidst a forest of test tubes and bubbling retorts. He looked up, clearly annoyed at the distraction. His stiff hair stood up like a spiky boar’s-bristle brush. His reddened, chemically irritated eyes wavered from Huxley to Wells, then back again, as if looking for something interesting enough to seize his attention. “I’m on trial number fifty-six. As you can see, I have nearly achieved success.”
    Huxley explained. “Dr. Griffin is devising an invisibility formula that can make anything completely transparent. Ah, imagine the opportunities for espionage, spies with perfect camouflage.”
    Griffin interrupted him. “More than just spies. An invisible man could be a thief, an assassin, or a detective. A hero.”
    Considering the bristle-haired chemist’s eccentricities and his disjointed thoughts, Wells wondered about the possibledamage his brain might have suffered from breathing chemical mists all day long.
    Huxley said in a mild voice, “We have finally acquired a sufficient supply of laboratory animals for Dr. Griffin so that he stops testing his formulas on himself.” Off in the corner, a cage full of white rats squeaked, as if complaining to the guinea pigs in an adjacent container about the conditions of their confinement.
    “Numbers seven and twenty-one had particularly offensive flavors.” The chemist juggled various containers of powders and liquids, all of which were unlabeled and chaotically arranged. Wells didn’t know how Griffin could keep his precise mixtures straight and reproducible.
    The scientist looked up again, as if surprised to find his visitors still there. “I have already conceived enough variations to attempt fifty different formulae. One of those concoctions will certainly prove effective!” Griffin drew a long sigh. “I hope the appropriate one tastes good enough to swallow.”
    Huxley took Wells by the elbow. “We must not disturb Dr. Griffin’s researches further.”
    They closed the lab door behind them, and Wells breathed deeply of the corridor’s fresh air. “Invisibility? Is he serious with his idea?”
    “Oh yes, Wells. And he may actually have a chance at success, though I admit he is one of our more … unorthodox researchers. Next, allow me to show you a more traditional laborer, though his designs and discoveries are no less remarkable than Dr. Griffin’s.”
    From directly ahead came the sounds of pounding and hissing, conversation and bellowed orders. The wide doubledoors were already open to an immense manufacturing bay where grease-smudged workers tended chemical furnaces, production benches, and intensely hot crucibles. In the center of the room, others hammered away at a large spherical framework supported by heavy braces.
    “Unlike our friend Griffin, Dr. Cavor uses a team of assistants. He prefers to supervise the large-scale operation while others follow through on his ideas. That way, he