by Mark C. King
They were surrounded.
28.
Sigmund stared at the approaching machines with dread. It seemed unlikely that they could defeat the machines at the factory, but there was no way they could defeat these as well. It would be a slaughter.
Although it hardly mattered, Sigmund noticed that these machines were of a different design from the ones they had been facing. These ran on large wheels, not legs, had a torso with shoulder mounted cannons, and arms that were cannons – no hands, or elbow joints. It gave the impression of an earlier design than the fully limbed versions at the factory. There were six of these newly arrived machines and they rolled forward, black smoke and sparks billowing out behind them.
Sigmund couldn’t take his eyes off of them. He had no place to hide and wondered what it would feel like to die. A few more seconds passed before the rolling machines fired. At first Sigmund thought it was simply a terrible shot as the resulting explosions tore into the factory walls. It was with the second salvo that Sigmund started to realize that these rolling machines were firing at the factory, not Sir Bradford’s army. He shared a look with Mills, neither man understanding who these new arrivals were, but they couldn’t find it in them to care very much at the moment, as long as they kept firing at the factory.
Two of the factory machines went down almost simultaneously. There was a small cheer from the army – small, both from not wanting to be too premature and from reduced numbers. The tide of the battle was turning. What seemed like certain defeat was now becoming an even battle. These new machines seemed to have the advantage as the factory vehicles slowed in their pace of fire. Sigmund could see men running below the vehicles with cannon shells, desperately trying to keep them loaded with ammunition but unable to keep up.
One of the rolling machines took a direct hit and toppled over. In seeming revenge, the factory machine that fired the killing blow exploded soon after from a concentrated volley. There were now five fresh rolling war machines and a few of the armies original cannons against four battered factory machines.
The thunderous sounds of cannon fire continued to bathe the battle in a sound that not only could be heard, but also felt. Sigmund gave up on hearing ever again, wondering how any soldier who has seen battle could recover from it. The smell of expended gunpowder and smoke burned his nose but was not completely unpleasant.
Mills waved for Sigmund to follow him and started to run towards the fallen rolling machine. When Sigmund caught up, Mills was pulling at a hatch that was on the upper back of the large machine, but reachable as the machine landed on its side. The explosions or the fall to ground had wedged the door shut. Both men winced as a few bullets kicked up dirt near their position. Mills ignored this and kept pulling. As Mills kept on the hatch, Sigmund started to look around and found a rod-like piece of shrapnel. He moved Mills aside and wedged it into a crevice between the door and the hull and he and Mills pulled hard. Slowly they were able to crack open the hatch. It still took both of them to pull it all the way open as the hinges were severely damaged. An explosion to their right sent them to their stomachs. Recovered, they looked inside the hatch and found a small area that held controls, buttons, levers, foot pedals and a seat with a man slumped over. At first glance the driver of the machine looked dead, blood on his face and clothes and not moving. Mills reached in and put his hands under the man’s arms and pulled him out. As the man’s torso passed through the hatch, Sigmund grabbed his legs to help. The battle raged in the background, bullets whizzing, explosions shaking the earth around them. When the machine driver lifted his arm, Sigmund almost let go from surprise. The man was alive! They carried him several yards away and laid him carefully on a patch of grass, somewhat protected by his own fallen machine.
Mills lightly patted the man’s face and asked in a loud voice, “Who are you?”
The man stirred a little, blinked his eyes but did not answer. Again Mills asked, “Please, tell us who you are.”
The man coughed weekly and managed to say in a raspy voice, “Alvin… I’m with the… Coal Union.”
Sigmund and Mills stared at each other in shock. Their eyes searched for answers that neither of them had. Mills turned back to the man and asked, “Why are you here?”
The man was losing strength, but managed, “Stop Grimkraken… Stop the cube…” then he lost consciousness. Mills had been leaning over the man but now sat back in the grass completely flabbergasted. Sigmund stood up wondering what took so long for the Coal Union to show their hand.
Both men were shaken from their thoughts by a particularly loud explosion. They looked over as one of the rolling machines blew apart. They figured that one of its weapon magazines must have been hit. Another of the rolling machines was not moving, its wheels were destroyed, but it kept firing from its spot. The other three were showing signs of the battle but still attacking strong. The factory wall was rubble and the factory machines were showing heavy damage. The men that had been visible near the factory were no longer around, having retreated inside. It looked as if the battle may be over soon.
As the cannons continued, there was a new feeling that shook the bones. Sigmund didn’t pay much attention at first – what was another feeling at this point? But the intensity of the feeling grew and when he looked over at Mills, he could tell that he was feeling it too. Unlike the cannon fire with its impressive, but short-lived boom, this new sensation was a consistent thrum.
Sigmund looked all around, the army, the wall, the factory itself, looking for the source – nothing. He didn’t like this sensation and grew almost desperate to know what it was or how to stop it. He kept looking about and then noticed some men pointing towards the factory. Sigmund looked as well and didn’t see anything at first, but then noticed that the back half of the roof was opening like a two pedaled flower. A feeling of dread came over him as he figured this could only be bad.
In a day of firsts for Sigmund, he wouldn’t have believed that the most significant of them all was still in front of him in the form of what was rising from the back of the factory. As just the top of this new vehicle became visible, Sigmund’s first impression was that it was a strangely designed dirigible. It was quite large, maybe a hundred and fifty yards in length, and appeared to be floating upwards. As it continued to rise, it became very evident that it was the source of the thrumming sound. As the full vehicle passed the top of the factory, Sigmund started to understand what he was seeing – the impossible. It was not a dirigible. What Sigmund had thought was the balloon was actually the hull of the vehicle – it looked like two navy battleships had been attached to either side of a large armored cabin. It reminded Sigmund of a catamaran boat. Where the two ships came to a point, a large sphere sat between them. Out of the sphere was a ridged tube. At several spots along the side of the heavily armored hull were cannons. But its source of lift was what Sigmund noticed the most – it had no balloon, instead it had eight giant propellers on top of this flying battleship. It was a heavier than air craft. Heavier than air ships had been theorized and modeled for years but were never produced due to the restrictions and weight of a coal engine. But powered by amalgam cubes could made it possible – did make it possible. Towards the back of the ship were two more propellers, but mounted to the side, like you would see on a dirigible to propel it forward.
Part of Sigmund felt a great joy to see this sight, it was like looking at a dream. Like suddenly anything was possible, for man could now fly unlike ever before. The vehicle continued to rise and slowly the ridged tube extended out of the sphere. The sphere rotated like an eye and pointed at Sir Bradford’s army. All thoughts of joy perished as this tube, this cannon, fired and the Coal Union machine that was unable to move exploded violently. Whatever that cannon was, it was devastatingly powerful. Several seconds went by and the cannon fired again – another rolling machine exploded.
Sir Bradford’s army continued to watch as this flying battleship gained elevation and reigned down impossibly destructive shots from it
s front cannon.
Sigmund jumped in surprise when something landed on his shoulder. He didn’t want to take his eyes off of the flying machine so he only gave a quick glanced back and found that Zachary had arrived. Turning all the way around, it took Sigmund a moment for it to register that Richard Sutton was standing behind him.
Sigmund turned back to the flying ship and asked in a loud voice, “Did you design that?”
Sigmund couldn’t see Sutton shake his head. The engineer in Sutton was in complete awe of what he was seeing. Sigmund, figuring his hearing was pretty well gone, turned to Sutton, pointed at the flying ship, and then gave a single nod of his head to indicate ownership. Again Sutton shook his head.
Without taking his eyes off of it, Sutton said, “I can’t believe they did it.” Another round from the cannon tore up the earth several yards from the two of them, knocking them both down.
“What is that?” screamed Sigmund.
“A Gauss cannon.”
“A what?”
“A Gauss cannon. A scientist named Carl Friedrich Gauss designed a way to accelerate a projectile by the use of magnets. In theory, it could propel an object many times faster than any conventional cannon. It probably doesn’t even have explosives as the mass and speed of the projectile would produce enough damage to make explosives redundant.”
Sigmund didn’t really understand all that was being told to him but he did understand what he was seeing – this new cannon was indefensible.
Realizing that Sutton had an important assignment, Sigmund asked, “Were you able to get through to the Royals?”
Sutton didn’t answer right away but pointed to the western sky.
Sigmund looked in that direction and spotted several small things above the horizon. The form of these objects were familiar – dirigibles.
Sutton then said, “I did. They are sending the Royal Air Force.”
29.
HMS Dominant, the premier battle dirigible of the RAF flew at full steam out of Northolt towards Battersea. Accompanying this flying fortress were four destroyer class dirigibles – HMS Osprey, HMS Talon, HMS Lightning, HMS Firefly – and a scout ship, the HMS Eagle Eye.
The Dominant was the largest dirigible of the entire RAF fleet. A dual balloon powered monster of the sky. The cabin was completely armored in thick iron with eight cannons on swivel mounts along each side. Two cannons guarded the rear with three more in the front, below the forward view windows. The front of the cabin was sixty feet wide. It bulged out to seventy-five feet in the middle and then back to sixty in the rear. The height was a consistent twenty-five feet, allowing for two levels of operation. Attached to the rear of the cabin, one on each side, were two massive propellers churning the air and propelling the giant ship forward, while a smoke stack extended straight back past the end of the balloons, giving it a dark, menacing tail. Above the cabin, attached to it, was an iron shield that completely covered the lower half of the giant balloons which kept the Dominant aloft. The balloons themselves were made up of seven individual pockets each, separated by iron plating. Even losing up to six of the pockets, the ship could still operate.
Besides the cannons, the ship could carry several bombs and it currently carried a full complement of them as the initial report was of a ground battle, no airships involved.
Flying in formation, there were two destroyers on each side of the Dominant. The destroyer class of ship had a one story iron cabin with four cannons on each side, and one cannon in both the front and the back. Its iron shield covered a quarter of the single balloon that gave flight to them. Although less armed and armored, they also had two engines which made these ships faster and more maneuverable than the battle dirigible. These too carried bombs for this mission.
Inside the Dominant’s command room, Group Captain Randolph ‘The Falcon’ Faulkner sat in his chair and surveyed his crew. Faulkner had had command of this ship since its maiden voyage, a little over a year ago. He had gone through three helmsman in that time, but finally seemed to have someone who could perform well. He expected excellence from himself and he expected the same from those around him. Although considered tough, he was also considered fair – as well as the most decorated Group Captain the RAF had ever had. It was at the Battle of Talana Hill, during the Second Boer war, that Faulkner became known as ‘The Falcon’. He commanded an older style destroyer at the time and found tremendous success diving down on the enemy like a falcon coming after its prey. Faulkner had the uncanny ability to think in the three dimensions of flying. This gave him an advantage as so many captains struggled to change their views from that of a flat battle field. He continued his success in subsequent battles, earning his Group Captain rank at an early age.
Faulkner smoothed his thick dark mustache and, as he adjusted his hat, said, “Any word yet from the Eagle Eye, Hoffman?”
Hoffman was the communications officer manning the Marconi Wireless Telegraph machine. “Not yet, Captain.” responded Hoffman, not looking up from his paper and pencil, ready to take any message as it came in.
The captain knew that as soon as there was a communication, Hoffman would let him know, but he needed to keep his voice present, forefront in his crew’s mind as they headed into potential battle.
The HMS Eagle Eye was several hundred yards ahead of them. It was a fast scout ship designed to get to an area, observe, and report. Its hull was made of light wood – reinforced only in the engine area to keep the engine from tearing out – and it had three propellers that gave it great speed and maneuverability. Only the racing dirigibles that could be found in competition at public events could be said to be faster. The crew was minimal, only three men, which kept the cabin small and the ship light. Its balloon was like an elongated rugby ball, very narrow at the front and the back, but thick in the middle. The design was supposed to allow it to pass through the air quicker. The key feature of the scout ship was the glass compartment below the front of the cabin. The compartment was big enough for one man to sit in and had a large adjustable brass telescope, on a swivel, that gave its operator a view of what was happening around and below.
From the distance that the Dominant was from the Eagle Eye, it wasn’t much more than a dark shape through the grey, leaving a trail of black smoke in her wake. Overcast skies persisted, but the fog had let up a little. Faulkner thanked the heavens that the wind wasn’t bad.
“Sir! Incoming transmission,” said the communications officer, “It is the Eagle Eye, they say that the battle is in progress. Many casualties can be seen.”
Faulkner gritted his teeth. This was happening in London, in the heart of England! Faulkner had his doubts about the report that the new Defence Minister, Grimkraken, was behind this, but many of the RAF base’s men had left at Grimkraken’s orders. Something was definitely happening but regardless of what exactly, the result was a division in the empire – and death. Complete madness!
“More, sir!” Hoffman exclaimed, “They are reporting that an airship is rising from the factory.”
Someone retreating? Thought Faulkner. They won’t get far, not with this group after them. He grabbed a speaking tube that routed to the gun rooms and shouted, “Ready harpoons!” The cannons could not only be loaded with explosives and incendiaries, but could also be loaded with harpoons and rope in order to capture other ships. “It looks like we have a ship to catch.”
“It’s a battleship, sir! Large, unknown design. The Eagle Eye says that it has no visible balloon…”
“A battleship?” Faulkner cried in alarm. “Where did Grimkraken get that?” Faulkner knew all the battleships in the fleet. If one was reassigned, he would know about. “Hoffman, tell Eagle Eye to report on guns and be sure to keep their distance.”
“Aye, sir.”
Faulkner stood up from his chair and walked to the front window besides the helmsman. He grabbed a spyglass and looked towards the Battersea Factory. He was too far to make anything out besides smoke climbing from the battlefield. “Blasted! Still c
an’t see anything.” Grabbing another speaking tube he said, “Belay last order. Ready for ship-to-ship battle!”
“At least ten cannons on the starboard side,” yelled Hoffman. “Another large cannon protruding from the front.”
Ten cannons? There is no ship with that many guns. Faulkner wondered about a possible false shell. He had heard of some enterprising people disguising a rather simple dirigible with false armor and guns to make it look more intimidating. “Tell Eagle Eye to circle the area and stay clear of firing range.”
“Aye, sir.”
It would still be a few minutes before they were in long cannon range. Experience had taught him that those minutes would not be of the short variety.
“Sir, the ship is rising and rotating. They say it is fast.”
It must be a false shell. No battleship was ever called fast.