Seed: The Glorious Universal Empire of Mars-upon-Earth.

The Glorious Universal Empire of Mars-upon-Earth

(Mingulay Island, Outer Hebrides)

So, yeah, the Martians invaded in the the 1880s. If you want an excellent description of them – with one key difference – consult H.G. Wells: he accurately described the Martians’ appearance, equipment, diet, and ultimate weakness.  However, what Mr. Wells did not accurately convey was a proper appreciation of the Martians’ size.  Or lack thereof.  To give an idea: the average Martian War Machine, fully extended, is about the height of a 20 oz bottle of soda.  About the same weight as one, too.

…The relevant authorities have also been asking the Martians for a hundred years why on Earth they invaded us, then.  Given the size mismatch, not to mention the minor details that their weapons are kind of humorously ineffective on us, AND the Martians’ propensity to explode (this is not an euphemism) in a pile of phlegm if they don’t constantly take their antivirals, there’s no sane reason for this species to invade us and not very many insane ones, either. The current generation of Martians don’t really understand the reasoning, themselves.

What the Martians do know, starting with the second generation of prisoners of war/non-intrusive research subjects, is that living in the late-Victorian equivalent of a Habitrail was not an optimal outcome.  Later generations of Martians were and are increasingly more socialized and sociable than their would-be conquering ancestors, but by all accounts the second generation were barely civil enough in their demands to not get their entire holding facility filled with ragweed by annoyed, and still a little resentful, British researchers. In exchange for some admittedly useful tech, the Martians wanted and demanded Australia, an area with good mineral and petrochemical resources: what they ended up getting was Mingulay, a barren, just-abandoned island in the north of Scotland populated by sea birds, some rather annoyed sheep, and precisely one tree.

As you might have guessed, the Martians have been finding their new home a bit rustic, but they seem to be adapting.  The Martians largely moved into what anthills exist on Mingulay, and by some accounts had themselves quite the war of extermination and species-enslavement. They then settled down to some sort of odd oligarchy-slash-empire where everybody constantly betrays everybody else but almost nobody ever actually dies from it.  The Martian population is growing, but not particularly quickly.  It’ll be a while before Mingulay gets close to being populated by Martians, let alone crowded.

Still, the British government has been watching the Martians ever since the resettlement.  And I mean watching: only the finest, most high-functioning paranoids are allowed to be involved in this operation (and the various disinformation campaigns associated with the Mingulay colony, starting with that song). After all, the Martians did try to invade and conquer Earth, with the eventual aim of eating us.  That it all fell apart at the first literal kick by a bobby outraged at getting his boot scorched doesn’t mean that people shouldn’t take the potential threat seriously…