by Craig Zerf
Withrew bristled with anger. ‘Did you not hear me, captain? I said ten minutes. We are not here on sort of vacation and your petty excuses are not accepted. If you and your men are not engaging the enemy by the time that I am back in my flagship, I shall see that you are officially reprimanded for gross incompetence. Do I make myself clear?’
The captain stared for a few seconds, baffled at the colonels’ complete inability to understand the most basic of concepts. Without a head of steam the harpoons might reach the town walls but there would be little or no energy left by then. They would simply bang up against the palisades and fall to the ground.
He decided to try and talk some sense into the colonel one last time. ‘With all due respect, sir,’ he argued. ‘I could do a much better job if you allowed me an hour to build the pressure in the boiler. Then we…’
‘How dare you question me, captain?’ Spat Withrew. ‘Do as I say immediately or I shall have you up in front of a disciplinary committee so fast that you…that I…just do it.’
The colonel galloped off, heading back to his flagship, leaving a thunderstruck captain shaking his head. The captain went back inside his wagon and proceeded to the topdeck. When he got there he called the gunner, the loader and the two boilermen to him.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said. ‘We have been ordered to commence firing.’
The gunner saluted. ‘Right away, sir,’ he confirmed. ‘Give my boys an hour and we’ll rain fire down on that town.’
The captain shook his head. ‘No, gunney,’ he said. ‘We have been ordered to commence firing immediately.’
‘But, sir. That’s ludicrous.’
The captain shrugged. ‘Just do it.’ He turned to his bugler. ‘Sound the command to open fire. And keep sounding it until the other wagons comply.’
The bugler saluted, raised the instrument to his lips and proceeded to blast out the command. A simple five note riff repeated over and over.
Behind him he heard the solid thud as a ten foot steel harpoon slid into the breech of the weapon. Levers were pulled and gears cranked as the barrel rose to a forty degree angle and then traversed to line up with the gates to the town of Lincoln Vale. The gunner looked at the captain once more, a questioning look on his face.
Again the captain merely shrugged. ‘Fire,’ he commanded.
The gunner pulled the brass fire lever.
And, some three hundred yards away, Tobias saw the weapon belch a cloud of steam as the harpoon was expelled.
‘Well, gentlemen,’ he said to the men standing next to him. ‘I advise that we take cover. This is not going to be pretty.’
The huge steel projectile blasted through the air towards the town and Tobias watched it come.
Then he grinned as the harpoon reached its peak and started on its downward parabola. All around Tobias men hit the floor, covering their heads with their hands. But the Landship captain did not deign to move. Instead he laughed out loud.
‘Get down, you fool,’ shouted mayor Griffin.
‘No need,’ answered Tobias. ‘Watch.’
And they did, as the harpoon plummeted towards the gates, struck them with a dull thud and simply fell to the floor.
The men all stood up. ‘What the? Are we out of range?’ Enquired mayor Griffin.
‘Hardly,’ chuckled Tobias. ‘What do you know about steam harpoons?’
‘Well, next to nothing,’ admitted the mayor.
‘It’s what you call a kinetic weapon,’ said Tobias. ‘To all intents and purposes it’s simply a large lump of steel. Where it becomes deadly is when it is fired at almost supersonic speed. That speed imparts huge energy to the target when it strikes. But energy cannot be created or destroyed, which basically means that it has to come from somewhere. In other words, you need your boilers to be at peak pressure for the weapon to work correctly, otherwise you simply have an old fashioned sling-shot.’
‘So what’s going on then?’ Asked the mayor.
‘The idiots have started firing before their boilers are fully up to pressure.’
As Tobias spoke the other artillery wagons opened fire. Two more harpoons bounced uselessly off the town walls and the third one simply didn’t even reach them.
‘What happens now?’ Enquired Griffin.
‘Now, they stoke their boilers. Should take them an hour, maybe longer because they’ve expended the little pressure that they had.’
‘Then what?’
‘Then they destroy us,’ said Tobias.
‘Can’t the walls withstand them?’
The Landship captain shook his head. ‘Have you ever seen a steam harpoon fired correctly?’
‘Yes,’ answered Griffin. ‘When the Leviathan took out the last column.’
‘And you still ask that question?’
Mayor Griffin rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. ‘We’re finished, aren’t we?’
Tobias nodded. ‘But we still have an hour so I suggest that we use it.’
‘How?’
‘Well, if we are going to go down, then at least let’s go down fighting. I say that we form up the cavalry at the gate, get everyone who can fight and carry a weapon, then we open the gates and attack. I’ll take the Gwendolyn out first to provide some cover, hopefully that will allow us to get close enough.’
‘Close enough to do what?’ Asked the mayor.
‘Close enough to kill a few of the bustards before we all die.’ Answered Tobias.
‘That is a really rubbish plan,’ volunteered Griffin.
‘Got a better one?’
Griffin smiled. ‘No.’
‘Well then. Let’s do it.’
Chapter 35
The Gwendolyn’s smoke stack belched out clouds of black coal smoke and the boilers vented steam, maintaining full pressure, ready for the charge. Behind the Landship, gathered on a makeshift parade ground, were over three hundred mounted men with rifle and pistol. Behind them, arrayed in loose ranks of two hundred each, were another thousand men and women, all armed.
This was to be the last stand of Lincoln Vale.
And they would not be going gently into that good night.
Tobias stood on his topdeck, pipe in mouth, staring at the four steam harpoon wagons. Waiting. He knew that the time was up. Their boilers would be fully stoked by now and the harpoons loaded and ready to fire. All that he was doing was waiting as long as he could before he committed the town to their last charge.
Because no sane man hurries to his own death.
He saw the gout of steam rushing from the lead artillery wagon before he heard the signature screaming thump of the harpoon discharging. And then, unlike the genteel arc that the first underpowered harpoon had taken, a blur of barely sub-sonic steel death hurtled its way towards them.
The six foot long harpoon struck the wall some twenty feet from the gate, tons of kinetic energy transferred itself from the harpoon to the wooden wall and it simply blew apart. Twelve inch long shards of wood whipped across the parade ground like shrapnel, wounding some of the gathered townsfolk and driving many to their knees. The harpoon continued unabated through the wall, smashing into the saddlery shop across the street and reducing it to kindling. Finally it smashed through the window of the town haberdashery, bringing down the front wall and rendering the building totally uninhabitable, such was the extent of the damage.
There was a pause while the other artillery wagons adjusted their harpoons and then, with a sound like the very opening of the gates of hell, they all opened up at once.
At the same time the town gates were flung open and Tobias sounded the charge. Ten men on fast horses preceded the charge, galloping to the first drawbridge so that they could extend it in order to allow the Landship and the townsfolk across.
As the bulk of the townsfolk charged out of the gates, the harpoons struck. The front wall simply disintegrated into a shower of deadly wooden shrapnel but the charge continued. They made it across the first drawbridge and the fast horses were galloping on to
wards the second.
By now the charge was in range of the mallet guns controlled by colonel Withrew who gave the order to open fire.
Shot tore into the charging cavalry but many of them were galloping behind the shelter of the Gwendolyn, so were well protected. Tobias’ gunner returned fire, not bothering to assail the opposing battle wagons that were far too heavily armored. Instead he concentrated on the column’s outriders and his volleys of fire were accurate and well placed, bringing down man and horse alike.
Captain Tobias was keeping a close eye on the leading steam harpoon wagon. He had noted that, unlike the other artillery pieces that were still pulverizing the town, the leading wagon was turning to bring its harpoon to bear on the Gwendolyn. He grabbed the speaker tube and whistled into it, calling the engine room.
‘On my mark I want you to slow to half speed and pull hard-a-port. Ready.’
A disembodied voice echoed back to him. ‘Aye aye, captain.’
Tobias squinted his eyes in concentration and waited. Too soon and the harpoon gunner would change his aim. Not soon enough and the massive missile would tear them asunder.
Steam bellowed.
Tobias waited for another split second.
‘Mark, mark, mark,’ he shouted into the tube.
The engine note dropped as the Landship slowed and then the wheels and gears squealed in protest as the engineer dragged the wagon hard to port. There was a terrifying moment as the Gwendolyn veered savagely to the left and the starboard wheels lifted off the ground. But then they slammed down and the Landship turned hard.
‘Flank speed,’ commanded Tobias. And the ship surged ahead as the engineer opened all of the taps and ran the engines at one hundred and ten percent, way into the red.
There was a sound of fury as the harpoon screeched past the Landship, missing by mere feet. Then a massive clap of thunder as it impacted into the ground behind the Gwendolyn, throwing up tons of earth and killing at least ten of the cavalry, shredding man and horse together.
But they had not yet made the second drawbridge and already their charge was faltering under the steady stream of fire from the enemy column.
Tobias called down to the engine room again. ‘On my mark I want you to pull the same maneuver again,’ he shouted. ‘He’ll expect us to go the other way this time, so, on my mark.’
‘Aye aye, sir.’
Again Tobias waited for the bloom of steam before he shouted. ‘Mark, mark, mark.’
The Gwendolyn lurched to the side, boiler shrieking and gears grinding.
And they almost made it.
The harpoon struck the Landship a glancing blow on the starboard side. It was literally a feather of a touch. But the shock reverberated about the ship like Thor had wielded his mighty hammer. The ship shuddered to a halt as the boiler ruptured and exploded, killing both the main stoker and the engineer instantly. The side of the ship stove in, crushing the men who were lined up at the shooting apertures, killing and maiming.
Tobias knew that they had now become the proverbial ‘sitting duck.’ The next harpoon would blow them to kingdom come. ‘Abandon ship,’ he shouted.
The bugler blew the command and then headed for one of the escape ladders that ran from the topdeck to the ground, scuttling down as fast as he could. He was followed closely by the mallet stoker.
Tobias turned to the mallet gunner. ‘Digby. Abandon ship, my boy.’ He commanded. ‘The next harpoon is the decider. We won’t survive it.’
‘Begging your pardon, captain,’ answered Digby. ‘But I’d just as soon as stay at my post if I may. These weapons don’t fire themselves, you know.’
Tobias smiled. ‘Good lad. As you were then.’
Digby crouched over his mallet gun and continued to lay down withering sheets of fire, shredding enemy men and horses alike.
As captain, Tobias would not leave his ship. Instead he packed his pipe, lit it and stood with his hands behind his back and stared at the harpoon wagon. Calm. Accepting.
And then the whole world exploded.
The leading artillery wagon simply disappeared in a storm of smoke and fire as it was struck by two steam harpoons at once. And then, unbelievably, the steam harpoons fired again, almost without pause, taking out the next two artillery wagons.
Tobias’ pipe dropped from his lips as his mouth hung open in shocked awe at the destruction being wrought in front of him.
The massive silhouette of the Lostvega Leviathan stood out against the afternoon sun and clouds of steam boiled off its gun emplacements as it rained down an impossible amount of shot on the enemy column. The harpoons fired again, taking out the last artillery wagon with ease.
Captain Tobias had never seen steam harpoons fire in such rapid succession before. It was almost as if they were self loading semi-automatics. Unbelievable but for the fact that it was happening in front of his very eyes.
And the mallet guns poured out fire and shot like a hailstorm. Their fire-rate far in excess of anything that Tobias had ever heard of before. Like the hand of God had come down from the skies and brushed away his enemies with one gigantic swipe.
Highman Colonel Barclon Withrew did not even have time to be terrified. The one moment he was gloating over his forthcoming victory and the very next moment he was as dust in the wind. Blown into minute pieces by the combined strike of two supersonic harpoons and eighteen enhanced mallet guns. The Highman flagship ceased to exist as it was torn to shreds within seconds.
So the second battle of Lincoln Vale came to an end.
Tobias bent down to pick his pipe up from the deck, pleased to note that it had not broken in two. Also, it was still alight. He placed it into his mouth and drew deeply on the fragrant smoke. Exhaled slowly and then turned to Digby the mallet gunner.
‘Well, my boy,’ he said. ‘That was a close one. Damned close.’
And the two of them burst out laughing.
Chapter 36
The townsfolk of Lincoln Vale had salvaged all that they could from the destroyed enemy column and captain Tobias was relatively certain that, within a week or so, they would have a fully functioning steam harpoon to add to the town’s defenses.
The town was celebrating and mayor Griffin had allowed everyone free rein. Bonfires burned high and all about the town trios of musicians and scratch bands had formed. People danced and sang and drank. The air was filled with the raucous sound of survivor’s laughter. Strident and frantic. An affirmation of life even more than it was a celebration of victory.
There was also weeping. For the town had lost many lives. Over two hundred men and women had perished in the charge.
And Nathaniel stood alone on one of the guard towers and stared out across the open lands. In the night sky the ever-present pulse-light flickered and vacillated, spreading across the heavens like a neon green oily stain. Two hundred dead, thought The Forever Man. If only he had pushed the Dreamlanders harder. If only he had left sooner. Arrived earlier.
But success is not made up of ‘if only’. It is made of ‘what next?’ And Nathaniel knew that, when a David fights a Goliath he must keep moving. Keep attacking. He must keep the Goliath on the back foot. Because the moment that the giant can dictate the game, then the little man is dead.
There was a sound of footsteps coming up the ladder and Leon and Tobias clambered into the tower with him. Both were carrying mugs of soya vodka.
‘Victory,’ said Leon as he raised his mug.
Nathaniel shrugged. ‘We killed some people.’
‘A lot of people,’ ventured Tobias. ‘And anyway,’ he continued. ‘So what? They were bad people.’
‘Maybe,’ said Nathaniel. ‘Maybe some were. Many were not. They were simply soldiers.’
‘Traitors to the human race,’ spat Tobias.
The marine shook his head. ‘No. They were just trying to make their way. To get by. You of all people should know that, captain Tobias.’
The captain had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘True. I worked fo
r them. But things have changed,’ he added. ‘You have changed things. The time of the Highman is finished. It is our time now.’
Nathaniel gritted his teeth and his eyes blazed with anger and regret as he remembered the countless battles that he had been in before. And the many friends that he had lost. ‘We have won one small battle,’ he said, his voice low and full of rage. ‘You lot have not lived through real war. Year after year of death and deprivation. Of suffering and loss. This,’ he pointed all about him. ‘This will in all likelihood be destroyed very soon. As will many, many more towns and villages. Blood will flow in the streets. Entire families will perish under shot and flame.’ He grasped Tobias by the shoulder. ‘I do not mean to denigrate what you all achieved today. Especially you, my friend. You were particularly heroic. But you will need to steel yourself to do the same again. Many times over. Perhaps for years to come. You will fight until you have forgotten why you do so. Until the only reason that you ride once more into battle is to avenge the friends that you have lost. To exact retribution on those who have murdered your dreams. Annihilated your hope. Taken away your very humanity.’
Leon and Tobias stared at the marine like he was the epitome of darkness itself.
‘You make it sound hopeless,’ whispered Tobias.
‘No.’ The marine shook his head. ‘We will win. We shall overcome. But I need you to realize the reality. I need you to be strong. Because you two are part of the inner circle. And if the center cannot hold, then the rest shall fall apart.’ Nathaniel smiled. ‘Now go,’ he urged. ‘Go and party and drink and laugh. Tomorrow we plan for the next step.’
***
‘It is now time to spread the word,’ said Nathaniel to the group of men arrayed about him in the town hall. They were the local leaders. The mayor, his assistants, local worthies and merchants and the men and women that had stood out in the battle the day before. Also there was Tobias and some members of his crew, Ethan, Brett, Leon and Torville.