3. The Beautiful People

by H.G. Wells

　　Section 1

　　The fire in the little house did not seem to be making headway. Thesmoke that came from it was much less now than when Mr. Barnstaplehad first observed it. As they came close they found a quantity oftwisted bits of bright metal and fragments of broken glass among theshattered masonry. The suggestion of exploded scientific apparatuswas very strong. Then almost simultaneously the entire party becameaware of a body lying on the grassy slope behind the ruins. It wasthe body of a man in the prime of life, naked except for a coupleof bracelets and a necklace and girdle, and blood was oozing fromhis mouth and nostrils. With a kind of awe Mr. Barnstaple kneltdown beside this prostrate figure and felt its still heart. He hadnever seen so beautiful a face and body before.

　　"_Dead_," he whispered.

　　"Look!" cried the shrill voice of the man with the eye-glass."Another!"

　　He was pointing to something that was hidden from Mr. Barnstaple bya piece of wall. Mr. Barnstaple had to get up and climb over a heapof rubble before he could see this second find. It was a slendergirl, clothed as little as the man. She had evidently been flungwith enormous violence against the wall and killed instantaneously.Her face was quite undistorted although her skull had been crushedin from behind; her perfect mouth and green-grey eyes were a littleopen and her expression was that of one who is still thinking outsome difficult but interesting problem. She did not seem in theleast dead but merely disregardful. One hand still grasped a copperimplement with a handle of glass. The other lay limp and prone.

　　For some seconds nobody spoke. It was as if they all feared tointerrupt the current of her thoughts.

　　Then Mr. Barnstaple heard the voice of the priestly gentlemanspeaking very softly behind him. "What a _perfect_ form!" he said.

　　"I admit I was wrong," said Mr. Burleigh with deliberation. "I havebeen wrong.... These are no earthly people. Manifestly. And ergo,we are not on earth. I cannot imagine what has happened nor wherewe are. In the face of sufficient evidence I have never hesitatedto retract an opinion. This world we are in is not our world. Itis something--"

　　He paused. "It is something very wonderful indeed."

　　"And the Windsor party," said Mr. Catskill without any apparentregret, "must have its lunch without us."

　　"But then," said the clerical gentleman, "what world _are_ we in,and how did we get here?"

　　"Ah! _there_," said Mr. Burleigh blandly, "you go altogether beyondmy poor powers of guessing. We are here in some world that issingularly like our world and singularly unlike it. It must be insome way related to our world or we could not be here. But how itcan be related, is, I confess, a hopeless mystery to me. Maybe weare in some other dimension of space than those we wot of. But mypoor head whirls at the thought of these dimensions. I am--I ammazed--mazed."

　　"Einstein," injected the gentleman with the eye-glass compactlyand with evident self-satisfaction.

　　"Exactly!" said Mr. Burleigh. "Einstein might make it clear to us.Or dear old Haldane might undertake to explain it and fog us up withthat adipose Hegelianism of his. But I am neither Haldane norEinstein. Here we are in some world which is, for all practicalpurposes, including the purposes of our week-end engagements,Nowhere. Or if you prefer the Greek of it, we are in Utopia. Andas I do not see that there is any manifest way out of it again, Isuppose the thing we have to do as rational creatures is to makethe best of it. And watch our opportunities. It is certainly a verylovely world. The loveliness is even greater than the wonder. Andthere are human beings here--with minds. I judge from all thismaterial lying about, it is a world in which experimental chemistryis pursued--pursued indeed to the bitter end--under almost idyllicconditions. Chemistry--and nakedness. I feel bound to confess thatwhether we are to regard these two people who have apparently justblown themselves up here as Greek gods or as naked savages, seems tome to be altogether a question of individual taste. I admit a biasfor the Greek god--and goddess."

　　"Except that it is a little difficult to think of two deadimmortals," squeaked the gentleman of the eye-glass in the toneof one who scores a point.

　　Mr. Burleigh was about to reply, and to judge from his ruffledexpression his reply would have been of a disciplinary nature.But instead he exclaimed sharply and turned round to face twonewcomers. The whole party had become aware of them at the samemoment. Two stark Apollos stood over the ruin and were regardingour Earthlings with an astonishment at least as great as thatthey created.

　　One spoke, and Mr. Barnstaple was astonished beyond measure to findunderstandable words reverberating in his mind.

　　"Red Gods!" cried the Utopian. "What things are you? And how didyou get into the world?"

　　(English! It would have been far less astounding if they had spokenGreek. But that they should speak any known language was a matterfor incredulous amazement.)

　　Section 2

　　Mr. Cecil Burleigh was the least disconcerted of the party. "Now,"he said, "we may hope to learn something definite--face to face withrational and articulate creatures."

　　He cleared his throat, grasped the lapels of his long dust-coat withtwo long nervous hands and assumed the duties of spokesman. "We arequite unable, gentlemen, to account for our presence here," he said."We are as puzzled as you are. We have discovered ourselves suddenlyin your world instead of our own."

　　"You come from another world?"

　　"Exactly. A quite different world. In which we have all our naturaland proper places. We were travelling in that world of oursin--Ah!--certain vehicles, when suddenly we discovered ourselveshere. Intruders, I admit, but, I can assure you, innocent andunpremeditated intruders."

　　"You do not know how it is that Arden and Greenlake have failed intheir experiment and how it is that they are dead?"

　　"If Arden and Greenlake are the names of these two beautiful youngpeople here, we know nothing about them except that we found themlying as you see them when we came from the road hither to find outor, in fact, to inquire--"

　　He cleared his throat and left his sentence with a floating end.

　　The Utopian, if we may for convenience call him that, who had firstspoken, looked now at his companion and seemed to question himmutely. Then he turned to the Earthlings again. He spoke and againthose clear tones rang, not--so it seemed to Mr. Barnstaple--in hisears but within his head.

　　"It will be well if you and your friends do not trample thiswreckage. It will be well if you all return to the road. Come withme. My brother here will put an end to this burning and do whatneeds to be done to our brother and sister. And afterwards thisplace will be examined by those who understand the work that wasgoing on here."

　　"We must throw ourselves entirely upon your hospitality," said Mr.Burleigh. "We are entirely at your disposal. This encounter, letme repeat, was not of our seeking."

　　"Though we should certainly have sought it if we had known of itspossibility," said Mr. Catskill, addressing the world at large andglancing at Mr. Barnstaple as if for confirmation. "We find thisworld of yours--_most_ attractive."

　　"At the first encounter," the gentleman with the eye-glass endorsed,"a _most_ attractive world."

　　As they returned through the thick-growing flowers to the road,in the wake of the Utopian and Mr. Burleigh, Mr. Barnstaple foundLady Stella rustling up beside him. Her words, in this settingof pure wonder, filled him with amazement at their serene andinvincible ordinariness. "Haven't we met before somewhere--atlunch or something--Mr.--Mr.--?"

　　Was all this no more than a show? He stared at her blankly for amoment before supplying her with:

　　"Barnstaple."

　　"Mr. Barnstaple?"

　　His mind came into line with hers.

　　"I've never had that pleasure, Lady Stella. Though, of course, Iknow you--I know you very well from your photographs in the weeklyillustrated papers."

　　"Did you hear what it was that Mr. Cecil was saying just now?About this being Utopia?"

　　"He said we might _call_ it Utopia."

　　"So like Mr. Cecil. But is it Utopia?--_really_ Utopia?

　　"I've always longed so to be in Utopia," the lady went on withoutwaiting for Mr. Barnstaple's reply to her question. "What splendidyoung men these two Utopians appear to be! They must, I am sure,belong to its aristocracy--in spite of their--informal--costume.Or even because of it."...

　　Mr. Barnstaple had a happy thought. "I have also recognized Mr.Burleigh and Mr. Rupert Catskill, Lady Stella, but I should be soglad if you would tell me who the young gentleman with the eye-glassis, and the clerical gentleman. They are close behind us."

　　Lady Stella imparted her information in a charmingly confidentialundertone. "The eye-glass," she murmured, "is--I am going to spellit--F.R.E.D.D.Y. M.U.S.H. Taste. Good taste. He is awfully clever atfinding out young poets and all that sort of literary thing. Andhe's Rupert's secretary. If there is a literary Academy, they say,he's certain to be in it. He's dreadfully critical and sarcastic. Wewere going to Taplow for a perfectly intellectual week-end, quitelike the old times. So soon as the Windsor people had gone again,that is.... Mr. Gosse was coming and Max Beerbohm--and everyonelike that. But nowadays something always happens. Always.... Theunexpected--almost excessively.... The clerical collar"--sheglanced back to judge whether she was within earshot of thegentleman under discussion--"is Father Amerton, who is so dreadfullyoutspoken about the sins of society and all _that_ sort of thing.It's odd, but out of the pulpit he's inclined to be shy and quiet anda little awkward with the forks and spoons. Paradoxical, isn't it?"

　　"Of _course_!" cried Mr. Barnstaple. "I remember him now. I knew hisface but I couldn't place it. Thank you so much, Lady Stella."

　　Section 3

　　There was something very reassuring to Mr. Barnstaple in the companyof these famous and conspicuous people and particularly in thecompany of Lady Stella. She was indeed heartening: she brought somuch of the dear old world with her, and she was so manifestlyprepared to subjugate this new world to its standards at theearliest possible opportunity. She fended off much of the wonder andbeauty that had threatened to submerge Mr. Barnstaple altogether.Meeting her and her company was in itself for a man in his positiona minor but considerable adventure that helped to bridge the gulfof astonishment between the humdrum of his normal experiences andthis all too bracing Utopian air. It solidified, it--if one may usethe word in such a connexion--it _degraded_ the luminous splendourabout him towards complete credibility that it should also be seenand commented on by her and by Mr. Burleigh, and viewed through theappraising monocle of Mr. Freddy Mush. It brought it within rangeof the things that get into the newspapers. Mr. Barnstaple alonein Utopia might have been so completely overawed as to have beenmentally overthrown. This easy-mannered brown-skinned divinity whowas now exchanging questions with Mr. Burleigh was made mentallyaccessible by that great man's intervention.

　　Yet it was with something very like a catching of the breath thatMr. Barnstaple's attention reverted from the Limousine people tothis noble-seeming world into which he and they had fallen. Whatsort of beings really were these men and women of a world whereill-bred weeds, it seemed, had ceased to thrust and fight amidstthe flowers, and where leopards void of feline malice looked outwith friendly eyes upon the passer-by?

　　It was astounding that the first two inhabitants they had foundin this world of subjugated nature should be lying dead, victims,it would seem, of some hazardous experiment. It was still moreastonishing that this other pair who called themselves the brothersof the dead man and woman should betray so little grief or dismayat the tragedy. There had been no emotional scene at all, Mr.Barnstaple realized, no consternation or weeping. They wereevidently much more puzzled and interested than either horrifiedor distressed.

　　The Utopian who had remained in the ruin, had carried out the bodyof the girl to lay it beside her companion's, and he had now, Mr.Barnstaple saw, returned to a close scrutiny of the wreckage of theexperiment.

　　But now more of these people were coming upon the scene. They hadaeroplanes in this world, for two small ones, noiseless and swift intheir flight as swallows, had landed in the fields near by. A manhad come up along the road on a machine like a small two-wheeledtwo-seater with its wheels in series, bicycle fashion; lighter andneater it was than any earthly automobile and mysteriously able tostand up on its two wheels while standing still. A burst of laughterfrom down the road called Mr. Barnstaple's attention to a groupof these Utopians who had apparently found something exquisitelyridiculous in the engine of the Limousine. Most of these peoplewere as scantily clothed and as beautifully built as the two deadexperimentalists, but one or two were wearing big hats of straw,and one who seemed to be an older woman of thirty or more wore arobe of white bordered by an intense red line. She was speaking nowto Mr. Burleigh.

　　Although she was a score of yards away, her speechpresented itself in Mr. Barnstaple's mind with great distinctness.

　　"We do not even know as yet what connexion your coming into our worldmay have with the explosion that has just happened here or whether,indeed, it has any connexion. We want to inquire into both thesethings. It will be reasonable, we think, to take you and all thepossessions you have brought with you to a convenient place for aconference not very far from here. We are arranging for machines totake you thither. There perhaps you will eat. I do not know when youare accustomed to eat?"

　　"Refreshment," said Mr. Burleigh, rather catching at the idea. "Somerefreshment would certainly be acceptable before very long. In fact,had we not fallen so sharply out of our own world into yours, bythis time we should have been lunching--lunching in the best ofcompany."

　　"Wonder and lunch," thought Mr. Barnstaple. Man is a creature whomust eat by necessity whether he wonder or no. Mr. Barnstapleperceived indeed that he was already hungry and that the air hewas breathing was a keen and appetizing air.

　　The Utopian seemed struck by a novel idea. "Do you eat several timesa day? What sort of things do you eat?"

　　"Oh! Surely! They're _not_ vegetarians!" cried Mr. Mush sharply ina protesting parenthesis, dropping his eye-glass from its socket.

　　They were all hungry. It showed upon their faces.

　　"We are all accustomed to eat several times a day," said Mr.Burleigh. "Perhaps it would be well if I were to give you a briefresume of our dietary. There may be differences. We begin, asa rule, with a simple cup of tea and the thinnest slice ofbread-and-butter brought to the bedside. Then comes breakfast."...He proceeded to a masterly summary of his gastronomic day,giving clearly and attractively the particulars of an Englishbreakfast, eggs to be boiled four and a half minutes, neither morenor less, lunch with any light wine, tea rather a social rallythan a serious meal, dinner, in some detail, the occasional resortto supper. It was one of those clear statements which would haverejoiced the House of Commons, light, even gay, and yet witha trace of earnestness. The Utopian woman regarded him withdeepening interest as he proceeded. "Do you all eat in thisfashion?" she asked.

　　Mr. Burleigh ran his eye over his party. "I cannot answer forMr.--Mr.--?"

　　"Barnstaple.... Yes, I eat in much the same fashion."

　　For some reason the Utopian woman smiled at him. She had verypretty brown eyes, and though he liked her to smile he wished thatshe had not smiled in the way she did.

　　"And you sleep?" she asked.

　　"From six to ten hours, according to circumstances," saidMr. Burleigh.

　　"And you make love?"

　　The question perplexed and to a certain extent shocked ourEarthlings. What exactly did she mean? For some moments no oneframed a reply. Mr. Barnstaple's mind was filled with a hurryingrush of strange possibilities.

　　Then Mr. Burleigh, with his fine intelligence and the quickevasiveness of a modern leader of men, stepped into the breach."Not habitually, I can assure you," he said. "Not habitually."

　　The woman with the red-bordered robe seemed to think this over fora swift moment. Then she smiled faintly.

　　"We must take you somewhere where we can talk of all these things,"she said. "Manifestly you come from some strange other world. Ourmen of knowledge must get together with you and exchange ideas."

　　Section 4

　　At half-past ten that morning Mr. Barnstaple had been motoringalong the main road through Slough, and now at half-past one hewas soaring through wonderland with his own world half forgotten."Marvellous," he repeated. "Marvellous. I knew that I should havea good holiday. But _this_, _this_--!"

　　He was extraordinarily happy with the bright unclouded happinessof a perfect dream. Never before had he enjoyed the delights of anexplorer in new lands, never before had he hoped to experience thesedelights. Only a few weeks before he had written an article for theLiberal lamenting the "End of the Age of Exploration," an article sothoroughly and aimlessly depressing that it had pleased Mr. Peeveextremely. He recalled that exploit now with but the faintest twingeof remorse.

　　The Earthling party had been distributed among four smallaeroplanes, and as Mr. Barnstaple and his companion, Father Amerton,rose in the air, he looked back to see the automobiles and luggagebeing lifted with astonishing ease into two lightly built lorries.Each lorry put out a pair of glittering arms and lifted up itsautomobile as a nurse might lift up a baby.

　　By contemporary earthly standards of safety Mr. Barnstaple's aviatorflew very low. There were times when he passed between trees ratherthan over them, and this, even if at first it was a little alarming,permitted a fairly close inspection of the landscape. For theearlier part of the journey it was garden pasture with grazingcreamy cattle and patches of brilliantly coloured vegetation of anature unknown to Mr. Barnstaple. Amidst this cultivation narrowtracks, which may have been foot or cycle tracks, threaded theirway. Here and there ran a road bordered with flowers and shadedby fruit trees.

　　There were few houses and no towns or villages at all. The housesvaried very greatly in size, from little isolated buildings whichMr. Barnstaple thought might be elegant summer-houses or littletemples, to clusters of roofs and turrets which reminded himof country chateaux or suggested extensive farming or dairyingestablishments. Here and there people were working in the fieldsor going to and fro on foot or on machines, but the effect of thewhole was of an extremely underpopulated land.

　　It became evident that they were going to cross the range of snowymountains that had so suddenly blotted the distant view of WindsorCastle from the landscape.

　　As they approached these mountains, broad stretches of goldencorn-land replaced the green of the pastures and then thecultivation became more diversified. He noted unmistakable vineyardson sunny slopes, and the number of workers visible and thehabitations multiplied. The little squadron of aeroplanes flew upa broad valley towards a pass so that Mr. Barnstaple was able toscrutinize the mountain scenery. Came chestnut woods and at lastpines. There were Cyclopean turbines athwart the mountain torrentsand long, low, many-windowed buildings that might serve someindustrial purpose. A skilfully graded road with exceedingly bold,light and beautiful viaducts mounted towards the pass. There weremore people, he thought, in the highland country than in the levelsbelow, though still far fewer than he would have seen upon anycomparable countryside on earth.

　　Ten minutes of craggy desolation with the snow-fields of a greatglacier on one side intervened before he descended into the uplandvalley on the Conference Place where presently he alighted. Thiswas a sort of lap in the mountain, terraced by masonry so boldlydesigned that it seemed a part of the geological substance of themountain itself. It faced towards a wide artificial lake retained bya stupendous dam from the lower reaches of the valley. At intervalsalong this dam there were great stone pillars dimly suggestive ofseated figures. He glimpsed a wide plain beyond, which reminded himof the valley of the Po, and then as he descended the straight lineof the dam came up to hide this further vision.

　　Upon these terraces, and particularly upon the lower ones, weregroups and clusters of flowerlike buildings, and he distinguishedpaths and steps and pools of water as if the whole place were agarden.

　　The aeroplanes made an easy landing on a turfy expanse. Close athand was a graceful chalet that ran out from the shores of the lakeover the water, and afforded mooring to a flotilla of gaily colouredboats....

　　It was Father Amerton who had drawn Mr. Barnstaple's attention tothe absence of villages. He now remarked that there was no churchin sight and that nowhere had they seen any spires or belfries.But Mr. Barnstaple thought that some of the smaller buildings mightbe temples or shrines. "Religion may take different forms here,"he said.

　　"And how few babies or little children are visible!" Father Amertonremarked. "Nowhere have I seen a mother with her child."

　　"On the other, side of the mountains there was a place like theplaying field of a big school. There were children there and one ortwo older people dressed in white."

　　"I saw that. But I was thinking of babes. Compare this with whatone would see in Italy.

　　"The most beautiful and desirable young women," added the reverendgentleman; "_most_ desirable--and not a sign of maternity!"

　　Their aviator, a sun-tanned blond with very blue eyes, helped themout of his machine, and they stood watching the descent of the othermembers of their party. Mr. Barnstaple was astonished to note howrapidly he was becoming familiarized with the colour and harmony ofthis new world; the strangest things in the whole spectacle now werethe figures and clothing of his associates. Mr. Rupert Catskillin his celebrated grey top hat, Mr. Mush with his preposterouseye-glass, the peculiar long slenderness of Mr. Burleigh, and thesquare leather-clad lines of Mr. Burleigh's chauffeur, struck him asbeing far more incredible than the graceful Utopian forms about him.

　　The aviator's interest and amusement enhanced Mr. Barnstaple'sperception of his companions' oddity. And then came a wave ofprofound doubt.

　　"I suppose this is _really_ real," he said to Father Amerton.

　　"Really real! What else can it be?"

　　"I suppose we are not dreaming all this."

　　"Are your dreams and my dreams likely to coincide?"

　　"Yes; but there are quite impossible things--absolutely impossiblethings."

　　"As, for instance?"

　　"Well, how is it that these people are speaking to us inEnglish--modern English?"

　　"I never thought of that. It is rather incredible. They don't talkin English to one another."

　　Mr. Barnstaple stared in round-eyed amazement at Father Amerton,struck for the first time by a still more incredible fact. "Theydon't talk in _anything_ to one another," he said. "And we haven'tnoticed it until this moment!"