last updated and validated May 1, 1999. SHD
Before one can grasp the nature of Martian civilisation, one must know something of the long history that provides a background against which recent events have unfolded. Much of this history is drawn from Martian folklore, as the vast span of Martian civilisation has rendered the more distant events into legend, and it is impossible to distinguish history from myth. That said, before the fall of their civilisation the Martians kept meticulous archives and annals of history, which have proven invaluable in reconstructing the long and fascinating history of this ancient race. The authors would also like to thank Dr. Jacoby Wace, Professor of Martian Studies at Cambridge University, whose assistance in compiling this summary of Martian history has been invaluable.
Martian civilisation has existed in one form or another for at least twenty million years. Over that vast span of time a succession of civilisations have risen and declined, each building on the achievements of its precursor. It was during this period of Martian history that the Great Canals were constructed to distribute precious water across the face of the planet, collossal undertakings that spanned generations.
The history of these civilisations is virtually unknown, having faded into the mists of time. Much of what we do know about pre-Disillusionment Mars comes from Old Martian folklore and legends, in which much of history is mixed together in the period known by the Old Martian storytellers as "when the Canals were young" - generally meaning a time before the Disillusionment - and is consequently uncertain, imprecise and often contradictory.
The civilisations of this period are characterised by the immense scale of their buildings, cyclopean structures that tower over the smaller, more graceful efforts of later cultures. These monolithic constructions litter the deserts of Mars, often having outlasted newer buildings. The rationale behind the construction of these monuments to engineering remain shrouded in mystery.
The duration of these civilisations has been steadily increasing, each successive society lasting longer than previous examples, until the present day when the same social order has held sway for more than thirty thousand years. It is this most recent civilisation with which we now concern ourselves.
An age ago there rose up a cultured and peaceful society of the race we know as the Old Martians. It was a meritocracy, the masses being governed by a scientific elite who ruled for the good of all. Their history reaches back into the hazy distance of time, and their culture was dignified by works of great art, philosophy and science. They reached to the two small moons of Mars and beyond, and managed the planet's resources wisely and carefully. Immense libraries were built, temples to knowledge in which the wisdom of the ages was enshrined. The Martian works of art of this period surpass any earthly equivalent, being possessed of a grace and aesthetic appeal which defies description. In the realm of scientific achievements they were masters in fields of science as yet undreamed of by terrestrial scientists. Their government was fair and just, free of the taints of selfishness and ambition which have corrupted human politics since the earliest civilisation. War and conflict had long since been banished from the face of Mars, and peace had reigned since time immemorial.
However, the ruling class of scientist-priests detected the beginning of a decline in their society. What had once been a perfect society was showing the first signs of creeping decadence. The ruling caste decided that in order to halt this decline it was necessary for them to govern even better than before. To this end a new, superior type of being was needed - one who could be free of the base physical needs, devoted only to thought and learning. To this end they created the race that we now know as the Martians, monstrous creatures composed almost entirely of brain. The Old Martians greatly modified their own form, discarding anything that might interfere with the New Martians' role of governing fairly and wisely.
For many years these living intellects ruled well, seperated from the emotional substratum which interfered with the duties of government. Because they lacked a digestive system and its associated impact upon the nervous system, they were nourished by the blood of specially-bred cattle. Their government was benevolent and wise, and intellectual and aesthetic achievements rose to still greater heights. A new age of prosperity dawned upon Mars, and lasted for many millennia.
Unfortunately this glorious age was not to last. Over time the nature of these new Martians changed. Lacking emotional values they became mere selfish intellects, intelligences vast and cool and unsympathetic. They ceased to care for the best interests of the populace, seeking only to preserve their own existence, even at the expense of those they were created to watch over. The Martians grew dissatisfied with the blood of cattle, and began to feed on the populace instead. Too late the Old Martians realised what they had created, and tried to overthrow their now-despotic rulers. Thus began a turbulent period of Martian history that xenohistorians have come to term the Disillusionment. The revolts against the Martians were ruthlessly crushed, the ringleaders rounded up and their blood drained to feed the monstrous rulers.
At the time of the Disillusionment, a small number of Old Martians went underground to escape the horrors they had unleashed upon Mars. They have spent the interminable years since the Martians seized power rebuilding their civilisation. They became resigned to the new order, as there was nothing they could do to fight the Martians, who controlled the Fighting Machines, the Heat-Rays, and, vitally in the arid climate of Mars, they controlled the canals. The Old Martians were content to simply avoid the New Martians altogether, and remember the glory of ages past. As it happened, the New Martians were also content to ignore the sad remnants of the civilisation they had supplanted.
This occurred many thousands of years ago, long before the rise of civilisation on Earth. Since then Mars has been under the despotic rule of the Martians, whose grip on the population remains unshakeable.
Mars is an old planet, and the inexorable process of cooling which must some day overtake Earth is already far advanced. This cold, creeping death was present even during the Age of Enlightenment, which led to the construction of the great canals for which Mars is renowned. In recent times the deterioration of the Martian climate has accelerated, water tables and average temperature dropping almost yearly. The planet's resources, after countless millennia of civilisation have taken their toll, are virtually exhausted. Mars is a dying world. This death is still far in the future, but it continually weighs upon the thoughts of the Martians.
The scarcity has brought the shadow of War once again to the red sands of Mars. Martian civilisation, which once reigned peacefully across the entire world, has splintered and fragmented into warring city-states each controlled by an elite council of Martians. In ages past, resources were generously shared, for the good of all. The Martians, however, have become selfish and uncaring, hoarding to themselves whatever they can seize from their fellows. Ancient and long-forbidden weapons have been unearthed and wielded against other Martians, until now the vast majority of Martian cities are shattered ruins, the bare bones of their once-graceful spires and palaces being slowly reclaimed by the desert. While the ancient instruments of war are remembered and rediscovered, much of the knowledge of the Old Martians has been lost, libraries burned during the raids of rival cities, records expunged lest the Old Martians remember the glory that was once theirs. It is no lie that the Martians have lost more knowledge in their millennia of war than mankind has yet discovered after centuries of scientific endeavour.
Not only do the Martians battle for the water and mineral wealth, but for the population. Uncountable years of depredation upon the Old Martians, a source of slave labour and food for the ruling class, has depleted their population enormously, and those that are left have suffered from the culling of their strongest members for food until the race has become weakened, thin and bloodless. Now the Martians seek out the enclaves of Old Martians who have been in hiding since the Disillusionment. As they wring the last drops of life from their world, they turn towards their younger, more vibrant neighbour, the blue evening star that lies sunward. Their only hope for the survival of their race lies in a vast Migration, the conquest and colonisation of a younger, warmer world. To this end the strongest cities called a truce and pooled their resources. The resulting expeditionary force, the vanguard of a larger force, was launched from the great cannon buried in the side of a mountain.
Conditions on Mars have been virtually static for the past fifteen thousand Martian years, the rebellions of the years immediately following the Disillusionment having been ruthlessly stamped out. The Martians now rule disparate, feuding city-states mostly constructed at the intersections of the Great Canals, populated by Old Martian slaves who greatly outnumber their inhuman masters. These Martian rulers reside in palatial complexes, travelling from place to place in their glittering metallic bodies. They feed upon their subjects, groups of which are often kept in special "parks", where Martians may hunt them as and when desired.
The method by which the rulers of individual city-states govern varies widely, with some being controlled by a supreme leader who reigns supreme, others by "families" of Martians descended from a common ancestor. The majority are ruled by a council of the most senior and learned Martians, usually no more than sixteen in number.
The Old Martians live for the most part in conditions of spartan scarcity, almost squalor. The Martians have appointed a select few of these wretches to act as a sort of police force, lording it over their fellows, puffed up with the petty authority the Martians have bestowed upon them. The slaves toil along the banks of the Great Canals to harvest the Red Weed which serves as a staple food for them, augmented by synthesised or highly processed dietary supplements. Their foodstuffs, housing and clothing are supplied by the Martians, in exchange for which they are worked until they drop, or their blood drained to feed the Martians. Small groups of slaves are often kept in wooded parks, to be captured and fed upon by their masters. The supervisors receive additional rations, slightly superior accomodation and clothing, and a measure of authority over their inferiors. For all this, they are just as likely to be selected to feed the Martians, who make little distinction between them and their charges.
It is rumoured that there still exist small enclaves of free Old Martians, who inhabit the ancient ruined cities scattered across the red plains of Mars. These settlements, concealed beneath the foundations of the once-graceful sprires, and in the winding caverns beneath the ruined cities, are for the most part made up of pitiful scavengers who subsist on the glories of ages past, searching the ruins for long-forgotten technologies and ancient knowledge. If truth be told their condition is little better than that of their fellows who labour under the Martians
There are, however, muttered tales among the Old Martian slaves, living in the shadows of their masters' glittering towers, that a conclave of free Martians have recreated the splendour of ages past, deep in the freezing desert, supplied by secret pipelines from the Great Canals. This community have unlocked the secrets of forgotten technology, and live in a manner which echoes the ways of old. They take in slaves who have escaped their masters, and protect them from the Martians.
Some young slaves regard this as an old wives' tale, similar to the Earthly fables built around the lost city of El Dorado or the sunken continent of Atlantis. They view it as a mythical city, a story created by downtrodden slaves to give them hope that somewhere on Mars there is a better place, a place not dominated by the monstrous Martians. Known as the city of Ka, there have been cases of slaves trying to escape to discover this place, never to return. No one knows their fate, whether they were picked up by Martian patrols, perished in the frozen wasteland of shifting red sand, or they really did find the city of their dreams.
Please report any errors in this document to its
creator;
last updated and validated
May 1, 1999. SHD