In the year of our Lord
Eighteen Hundred and Ninety One
This August Twenty Eighth
231 C Rue Claire
Everyone aboard the Master of the World cheered. The evil Invasion was over. The Eiffel Tower was saved!
What fools we were. How could an intelligence so great that it cold conquer time and space and hurtle itself such a vast distance to earth possibly be annihilated by the very forces they used to launch their own vessels?
But we didn't know at that time the extent of their powers. We assumed. And such is often the downfall of civilized man and uncivilized. When you believe you know more than possible, you know less than probable.
The Martians had not been destroyed, merely diverted. Their purpose was not to destroy our world with the one vessel, though if possible they might have done so. No, they were far more billiant and devious than we thought. They were an exploratory crew set out to find what our limitations were and their own. And they had succeeded.
The Martians, unseen by us by the spreading nuclear blast, slid into the Seine, submerged and headed out to sea where they would eventually carve an underground bunker beneath the Channel, linking England and France. It was a grand plan. No matter what happened to the vessel, they were prepared to win.
Lo, we did not find this out until many years later, but it did transpire that way.
How we found this out, you will have to wait until I reach that part of the narrative.
But...oh my God! What was that sound? I must leave this....