No Path to Follow
There is the place that shouldn't be, yet there it is regardless. There are the people that shake the world, there, in the place that shouldn't be.
I
Further South, there is the deadlands. No plants, no animals, no water. Not any more, that is. Just raw, dusty earth. There is the memory of what once was there, a bone white skeleton of a tree long dead, standing still only due to the lack of wind and rain to soften the soil around the deprived roots. Animal pits piled with the bones of creatures wicked and bizarre, washed into the pits in the last rains of the deadlands, well over half a century ago. In the clear air of the night before, Casper decided that the right thing to do was to finish this thing, regardless of whether or not the Monolith or the Colossus were to get the better of them in the end. Regardless of whatever's on the mountains waiting for them. Beatrix flew them all further South, mere hours from the mountains, and under the cloudless sky, the tilted sun still beamed down its heat so strong and stiflingly hot.
They were only a few short hours from the mountains when the engine overheated. Beatrix brought the plane down in a scatter of dirt and dust and they allowed the Jericho to rest and cool, while they themselves rested in the shade of a crudely constructed canvas pavilion arching off the side of the plane. They drained their water as they tried to cope with the dry heat, but it was of little use. The water just seeped out the pores in their skin no slower.
Sustenance. Casper said, as he passed the fresh fruit around. You need to keep up your sustenance or this environment will get the better of us. And we need to keep going. We wait around too long and we won't be able to get ourselves going again. Beatrix, let's get the Jericho in the air again in fifteen.
She nodded and bit down on her apple. Seth shared his with Marmaduke, who was quite content resting on Seth's lap. It had been a long journey, and the little maraqet had spent most of it cooped up on the Napoleon, and later, the Jericho. Seth felt somewhat guilty for somewhat neglecting it of attention, but he told himself it was for the good of the little creature. The more time it spent in the plane, the less time it spent innocently wandering off into harm's way.
When they hit the air again, the engine temperature was still very high, but they just pushed on like that was all they knew how to do. The engine was on the brink of overheating again from then onward, but it held out just that extra hour longer, just that extra kilometre further, just that extra bit more. They all sat in the cramped, stuffy cockpit in utter silence. There was only the sound of the sucking of the last few drops from a water bottle or light panting coupled with the steady hum of the engine growing weaker. When they went down with the engine going gangbusters, that's when the Monolith came over the horizon in the North and spotted them on the ground, engine steaming, Timothy elbow deep in grease and machine parts. The Monolith landed.
You've got some real guts trying to take this piece of kit across the deadlands, I'll have to give you that. Lieutenant Glenn Dibble said as he walked towards the broken Jericho to greet the weary crew. What were you trying to do? Take on the Magnetic Mountain Army in that little thing? You'd better come with us on the Monolith. We've got room for a few guests.
They gathered their gear and hauled it over towards the SS Monolith, Glenn leading the way. Timothy was quite relieved that he could abandon the plane half dismantled, but Beatrix looked back in longing, the Jericho had always been good to her. Marmaduke bounded around Glenn's heels excitedly, and the crew were quite eager on the idea of running water and fresh food. And as much as Beatrix wished she didn't have to leave the Jericho behind, she would finally be relieved of her duty as pilot and permitted to sleep while the ship flew on.
II
The fleet of the HMS Fyndir caught up to the Napoleon XI at dusk. The massive ship pulled up alongside the Napoleon and sounded its air horn. The crew of the Fyndir treated this as a rescue mission. They never anticipated that the crew of the Napoleon didn't want to be rescued. The cockpits drew level, and that's when they saw the Napoleon wasn't in Cardinian posession any longer.
Lieutenant Quartermain sent her orders through to her Black Barons, which promptly surrounded the ship in the attempt to bring the ship into their control. The plan was to bring the Napoleon around the back of the HMS Fyndir and bring it in through the cargo bay, however, all attempts to slow the Napoleon down was useless. The HMS Fyndir edged ahead of the Napoleon. If it couldn't be coaxed to the back, the warship would have to manouver its way into position. The Napoleon dipped towards the ground and the Barons towards the back of the ship fired off a couple of warning shots. A half dozen more Black Barons positioned themselves beneath the Napoleon and nudged it slowly back upwards. It was trapped.
The Fyndir came right around and its massive cargo ramp slowly opened out, waiting for the Napoleon to be coaxed in. It tried to dip again, and turn, but the Black Barons were quick, and surprisingly robust for their size. The Barons at the nose of the Napoleon spread to the sides and rear to channel the ship onto the cargo ramp. They nudged it closer and closer, inching it towards the giant chasm where armed troops were waiting to make the necessary arrests.
A few more nudges and the Napoleon XI was landed square on the landing ramp. A mechanic climbed down to the ship and cut the engine dead. The Black Baron backed off and the ramp came up. The ship's door burst open and about half a dozen pale faces with wide eyes burst forth, bearing knives and guns and soon as they set foot on the HMS Fyndir they were taken to ground and their hands tied.
The Dante's Hollow rebels were brought forcefully in front of Lieutenant Quartermain and pushed onto their knees, an armed soldier standing behind each one.
Where are the people who you stole the ship from? She demanded.
We 'aint telling you shit! One of the rebels spat.
The soldier standing behind the rebel smacked the butt of his gun into the rebel's head.
You'll tell us where they are. And you'll tell us promptly. Heather said.
They're dead. Another rebel said with a dark laugh. We killed them.
That was quick. Now we've got no reason to need you any more. Kill them. She said to the soldiers.
No! Wait! Yet another rebel yelled out. D-d-don't kill us! F-f-for fuck's sake. We didn't k-kill them. They took the plane from their ship and left. A few days ago. Th-they left the ship at th-the harbour. We st-stole it after they l-l-left.
Good. Thank you. Heather said, bemused. Lock them up.
You were bluffing! The first rebel said.
So were you. Heather replied as they were dragged from the room.
III
The Monolith was a magnificent ship and the guest rooms were more than comfortable. When the crew of the Jericho boarded the ship, the Lieutenant handed them over to private Evan Mendim, who showed them the guest rooms. Beatrix took to the sleeping quarters instantly, claiming the first bunk as her own. The rest of them just stored their gear and followed private Mendim on a brief guided tour of the ship.
They walked through the soldiers' sleeping quarters, which were much more cramped, less elaborate. Double bunks ran on both sides of the room, pressed as close to eachother as possible. Chests for clothes and possessions were fixed to the end of the beds, and aside from the occasional boot or shirt or sock or sheet strewn out of place, everything was kept in impeccable order. They passed through to the cargo hold where crates of food stacked to the roof on the left and guns, ammunition, knives, grenades were stacked to the roof on the left. Down the centre of the cargo bay were rows and rows of auto-tanks and hybrid chopters and armoured gyrowheels, and armoured auto-suits.
From there they walked down into the engine room. The engines were much larger than what was on the Napoleon XI. In fact the engines themselves were closer to the size of the actual Napoleon airship. Timothy hadn't seen anything remotely like this in his life, let alone worked on something so intricate and complex. The steam coming off the machines was intense, and the room was hot with condensation. Timothy followed the guard rails around the brilliant pieces of engineering, inspecting the giant turbines and pistons and gears working in harmony. Cornwall followed along, primarily just to add these engines to his ever expanding database, while the others waited back and took advantage of the small amount of ventilation that swept a thin mist of cool air across the antrance of the room. Timothy returned with sweat and condensation glimmering off his forehead, and quite at a loss for words for the massive engines.
From the engine room they passed through the kitchen to the dining quarters, through to the cockpit. Rows upon rows upon rows of dials, meters, buttons and levers. Half a dozen different hand sets ran along the control panel which appeared to be infinitely wider than the Napoleon's cockpit. There at the main controls was Lieutenant Dibble, with two pilots to his left and two to his right, measuring gauges and fine tuning the directions and altitudes at the Lieutenant's command. There, private Mendim ended the tour in favour of more pressing orders from the Lieutenant. The private permitted the guests to roam about the ship until further notice before brisquely ushering them out of the cockpit and snapping the door shut.
They navigated their way back through the ship to their sleeping quarters where Beatrix was still fast asleep. They spread themselves out across the room taking a full bunk to themselves, as they were under the assumption that they were the only ones using the room. They slept long into the night, and it was not until late morning when the first of them began to stir. Seth woke with something hot and wet licking at his neck and shoulder. Marmaduke. He groaned and turned over.
Wha? He said in a half-daze.
Seth. Beatrix whispered. Come. She walked into the homely living area of the guest quarters, indicating for Seth to follow.
He groaned again before pulling himself out of bed and getting dressed. He stumbled through to the living area, still in the zombie-limbo phase between asleep and awake.
What's going on? Seth asked Beatrix as he closed the door to the sleeping quarters.
Well. She said. Since I haven't had the opportunity to look around the ship yet-
Because you were too busy sleeping. Seth said with a yawn.
Yes. I thought you might like to wander about the ship with me.
Might as well, since I'm awake now.
Friday, November 20, 2009
In the Valley of the Tempest 5:7-10
VII
The Kailan Junction was larger than Berwick itself. It was well and truly civilised, a remarkable feat, considering its concealment from the outside world. How could it have been kept a secret for so long? Surely the people of the city desired to explore much like the recognised civilised cities, eager to draw maps further to fill in the blanks with unseen shores and islands and mountains and all sorts of wonders. Or perhaps they had everything they needed right here, the valley as the ultimate provider.
Joseph guided Beatrix towards ther airfield in the East of the city. It had a perfect asphalt runway and hangars running on to the horizon.While it would normally be comparable with the Berwick airfield, as they glided overhead and circling around, they knew the airfield at Kailan Junction was anything but. There was no clear stip of the airfield to be had. Ships of all assortments and sizes littered the ground, from the SS Monolith to the SS Colossus to the Wing-planes and everything else under the sun.
Don't stop here. Casper warned. Find some place out of city borders.
I've never seen such a thing. Joseph said. Something big's definitely going down. So many ships in the one airfield.
The big question is, are they with us or against us? Casper said. We should enter the city on foot. That way we'll at least blend in. Out in the airfield people are bound to ask questions.
Joseph nodded. Good plan.The junction's on the border between the mountainlands and the valley's free cities. It's near on impossible to figure out who's who from the sky.
They circled round the city to the South, Beartix managed to find an open clearing in which to land, and it was only a short hike back in to the city. It was when they entered the business district of the Kailan Junction that they noticed it. This was the first place where they had not been greeted with hostility or strange glances. Here, they were more or less normal people, regular citizens. They caught a turbine steam train from the city centre out to the East suburbs, paying their fare with yet more of the silver pieces, which seemed to be an acceptable form of foreign currency here. The train was fairly packed and stopped in turn as they passed each suburb. Grafton, Hamilton, Cockburn, Redcliffe. Casper watched the map plastered on the train's walls and counted the stops closer to the airport.
When they arrived they found that they weren't the only ones interested in the kerfuffel at the airfield. The scheduled charter flights coming in and going out were put on hold, and whilst travellers were annoyed with their circumstances in the airport with armfuls of luggage, outside, all along the gates people had come to watch the ships and planes congregate for something massive. The crew budged their way through, keeping their ears keen for any noteworthy details that may spill across from an overly eccentric conversation.
The Monolith hasn't been in service for almost twenty years! One person exclaimed to her friend.
Yes, but it's the first time the Colossus has docked here. It's the largest ship ever to dock at the Junction.
You've got to be kidding me. Casper said under his breath. That thing's got to be bigger than the HMS Fyndir.
From the gates they managed to squeeze through into the airport itself, which was largely isolated from the field in itself, but there were observation platforms located around the massive building that were open to the public, and they found that many others had crowded those decks searching for the best view of the plentitude of ships. They wound around and up the building each deck seeming more crowded than the previous. They settled with the fourth floor window that bubbled out to expose a good portion of the airfield. There were only a half dozen or so spectators up there, all of whom seemed to gawk and wail and annoy as much as the children and commoners and other simpletons of the lower levels. Casper nodded a polite greeting to one of the spectators.
I don't suppose you know what all these ships are gathering for? He asked conversationally.
Know? The closest man answered. I thought everyone knew. We're going to war. People don't really want to talk about it much, I think. Maybe that's why you hadn't heard.
We? Casper asked.
Oh, of course. The man said. I'm the captain of the SS Monolith, Glenn Dibble. We're starting this thing tomorrow.
VIII
The fleet landed on the ice-plate late afternoon. The night ahead of them was read to be clear, so they took the opportunity to feed the troops and rest up for the night. And it also provided as a valuable opportunity for the lieutenants to meet face-to-face. They had gathered in the Lieutenant's dining quarters of the HMS Fyndir, with a roast between them.
So, Lieutenant. Brian said to Heather. What do you know about the detective's expedition into these parts?
Not very much, I'm afraid. The informant I received the letter from was an acquaintance of his. I'd like to think his crew is out there somewhere, still travelling strong, but I'm afraid the outcome doesn't look good. Even if they're ok now, the tempest lies ahead, brewing into something far worse than what he's been exposed to before. I just hope, if they are out there, that we'll be able to find them in time.
And the informant? What danger is she in? Brian asked.
I'm led to believe that she is in hiding and will be safe. No one knows of her letter except ourselves and the members of the state. If we try to find her and protect her, it would most likely do more harm than good.
Out on the ice-plate the sergeants were commanding the troops through training drills. Their voices rang out throughout the long, flat land, their breath condensing into furious streams of mist the moment the air left their mouths. The troops ran formations and marches and combat drills and in the deep freezing cold the troops worked up a sweat. Out to one side of the training field the special combat units performed their training on the deadly arts. Hand to hand combat and stickfight training and swordplay. Many of them had started out getting the taste for blood on the West University courtyard. Punch or be punched, no alternatives, no outlets.
They gripped the guide ropes of the HMS Fyndir as they raced to the top of the airship. No hesitation. This was competition. This was the challenge to be stronger, fitter, faster. They climbed hand over hand, no footholds, and at the top, they could see the ice stretching along the horizon in a perfect three sixty degree circle. And then they saw the pack of ice-wolves sprinting across the ground in the distance. A flash of grey amongst the frosted white.
Lieutenants. A sergeant bursted into the dining chamber. Sorry to interrupt, but some troops have just spotted a pack of ice-wolves heading in our direction. Requesting permission to call an early departure.
How many? Wilhelm asked. And how far off?
The special combat units got the best view, and they pegged the pack at close to one hundred, about a kilometre off, in full sprint.
Wilhelm looked towards the other two Lieutenants for their thoughts on the matter. Brian gave a brief nod.
The fleet of the HMS Twiglet has my permission to take off. Wilhelm said.
The fleet of the HMS Malkolm has my permission also. Brian said.
They turned to Heather waiting for her input.
HMS Fyndir has my permission. Heather said with a brief sigh.
These were what Heather liked to refer to as 'undesirable circumstances'. The remainder of the roast on the table grew cold in front of them.
IX
How does it feel? The man said to Casper.
How does what feel? Casper responded.
How does it feel knowing that you were in the same room with what was potentially one of your greatest enemies?
How do you know he's an enemy?
How do you know he's not?
Stop doing that. Casper said hotly.
Doing what? I'm just asking you questions. You know you would have thought about them whether I was here or not.
There was no way of knowing where his allegiance stood without exposing myself. If he was an enemy I surely wouldn't have left the airport alive.
And you just keep telling yourself that.
Casper was dreaming. He woke up in a cold sweat and rose from his bed in room number eleven. He walked passed the others as they slept soundly and crept out onto the porch.
You can't sleep either? Seth asked.
Evidently not. Casper said with a wry smile. Can't stop thinking about this war.
Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm nineteen, and for all I know I could be dead tomorrow.
It scares the shit out of me too. Do you think all those ships and planes on the airfield are on our side?
I like to think so.
Hey. We're going to be fine.
What are we going to do tomorrow?
To be honest, I haven't a clue anymore. I was intending on taking the Jericho right on up to the magnetic mountains and try to deal with this Arthur Proctor guy. I mean, surely they'll be expecting all these ships and guns to come charging in, but not so much a handful of wayward travellers.
Have you ever been in a war before?
Me? No. Hasn't been anything for Cardinia to go to war for in a long time. My brother has, though. He moved North for a while and got caught up in a war that wasn't his. He sent me letters from the battlefield. Said that he never wanted me to have to go through anythin like what he did. He didn't come home.
I'm sorry. Seth said. But I guess this one is our war. I mean, it means something to me, surely it must mean something to you. We've got so much to lose. We've got so much to fight for. Hell, if you weren't so doubtful about your plans now, I'd follow you straight into battle without hesitation.
Honestly? After all that stuff about dieing tomorrow?
Well, sure, I think war scares the shit out of everyone, but if I know some good could come out of my efforts, I think it'd be worth it.
X
The sergeant called out his commands with an urgency. Pilots to their stations, troops to their quarters, untie the ships and prepare to depart in ten. The ice-wolves had covered half the distance in the rallying of orders. The smaller ships were well in the air in no time flat, but the larger warships took a lot more preparation to get running. The HMS Fyndir was barely a metre off the ground when the ice-wolves started jumping and snapping their jaws at the ship. That's why a small group of combat pilots hovered back in their one man ships, their Black Barons to hold the wolves off until the three heavy ships could get fully airborne. The Twiglet was the smallest of the three and was easily out of reach by the time the wolves reached them, and even the Malkolm was floating quite well at that point in time, but the Fyndir was close to having the ice-wolves' jaws clamping on to the ship's hull. The distractions of meat, cold roast scattered amongst the ice-wolves below, did nothing to hinder the pack, and the Black Barons fired on the first of the wolves as they leapt at the Fyndir, spattering ice and fur with a thick raspberry red paint.
As the Fyndir pulled out of reach, and the half dozen Black Barons left the wolves to their mess, the lieutenants celebrated quietly, as their passing of one danger was a surefire indicator of their heading into another, greater danger.
They were heading towards altitude when another painful twist in their plans pulled them in yet another undesirable direction. There was smoke emanating from a large hole in the ground. Thick, black, acrid smoke billowing from a gaping hole smashed open in the ice. As they passed over, they saw the oil burning city of Dante's Hollow melting into the burning lake. Heather looked down and thought of Casper and his crew. If only she knew where he was, and if only he knew what she saw. Maybe the fleet would have been a bit more cautious in approaching the Napoleon XI that they saw flying South in the distance.
The Kailan Junction was larger than Berwick itself. It was well and truly civilised, a remarkable feat, considering its concealment from the outside world. How could it have been kept a secret for so long? Surely the people of the city desired to explore much like the recognised civilised cities, eager to draw maps further to fill in the blanks with unseen shores and islands and mountains and all sorts of wonders. Or perhaps they had everything they needed right here, the valley as the ultimate provider.
Joseph guided Beatrix towards ther airfield in the East of the city. It had a perfect asphalt runway and hangars running on to the horizon.While it would normally be comparable with the Berwick airfield, as they glided overhead and circling around, they knew the airfield at Kailan Junction was anything but. There was no clear stip of the airfield to be had. Ships of all assortments and sizes littered the ground, from the SS Monolith to the SS Colossus to the Wing-planes and everything else under the sun.
Don't stop here. Casper warned. Find some place out of city borders.
I've never seen such a thing. Joseph said. Something big's definitely going down. So many ships in the one airfield.
The big question is, are they with us or against us? Casper said. We should enter the city on foot. That way we'll at least blend in. Out in the airfield people are bound to ask questions.
Joseph nodded. Good plan.The junction's on the border between the mountainlands and the valley's free cities. It's near on impossible to figure out who's who from the sky.
They circled round the city to the South, Beartix managed to find an open clearing in which to land, and it was only a short hike back in to the city. It was when they entered the business district of the Kailan Junction that they noticed it. This was the first place where they had not been greeted with hostility or strange glances. Here, they were more or less normal people, regular citizens. They caught a turbine steam train from the city centre out to the East suburbs, paying their fare with yet more of the silver pieces, which seemed to be an acceptable form of foreign currency here. The train was fairly packed and stopped in turn as they passed each suburb. Grafton, Hamilton, Cockburn, Redcliffe. Casper watched the map plastered on the train's walls and counted the stops closer to the airport.
When they arrived they found that they weren't the only ones interested in the kerfuffel at the airfield. The scheduled charter flights coming in and going out were put on hold, and whilst travellers were annoyed with their circumstances in the airport with armfuls of luggage, outside, all along the gates people had come to watch the ships and planes congregate for something massive. The crew budged their way through, keeping their ears keen for any noteworthy details that may spill across from an overly eccentric conversation.
The Monolith hasn't been in service for almost twenty years! One person exclaimed to her friend.
Yes, but it's the first time the Colossus has docked here. It's the largest ship ever to dock at the Junction.
You've got to be kidding me. Casper said under his breath. That thing's got to be bigger than the HMS Fyndir.
From the gates they managed to squeeze through into the airport itself, which was largely isolated from the field in itself, but there were observation platforms located around the massive building that were open to the public, and they found that many others had crowded those decks searching for the best view of the plentitude of ships. They wound around and up the building each deck seeming more crowded than the previous. They settled with the fourth floor window that bubbled out to expose a good portion of the airfield. There were only a half dozen or so spectators up there, all of whom seemed to gawk and wail and annoy as much as the children and commoners and other simpletons of the lower levels. Casper nodded a polite greeting to one of the spectators.
I don't suppose you know what all these ships are gathering for? He asked conversationally.
Know? The closest man answered. I thought everyone knew. We're going to war. People don't really want to talk about it much, I think. Maybe that's why you hadn't heard.
We? Casper asked.
Oh, of course. The man said. I'm the captain of the SS Monolith, Glenn Dibble. We're starting this thing tomorrow.
VIII
The fleet landed on the ice-plate late afternoon. The night ahead of them was read to be clear, so they took the opportunity to feed the troops and rest up for the night. And it also provided as a valuable opportunity for the lieutenants to meet face-to-face. They had gathered in the Lieutenant's dining quarters of the HMS Fyndir, with a roast between them.
So, Lieutenant. Brian said to Heather. What do you know about the detective's expedition into these parts?
Not very much, I'm afraid. The informant I received the letter from was an acquaintance of his. I'd like to think his crew is out there somewhere, still travelling strong, but I'm afraid the outcome doesn't look good. Even if they're ok now, the tempest lies ahead, brewing into something far worse than what he's been exposed to before. I just hope, if they are out there, that we'll be able to find them in time.
And the informant? What danger is she in? Brian asked.
I'm led to believe that she is in hiding and will be safe. No one knows of her letter except ourselves and the members of the state. If we try to find her and protect her, it would most likely do more harm than good.
Out on the ice-plate the sergeants were commanding the troops through training drills. Their voices rang out throughout the long, flat land, their breath condensing into furious streams of mist the moment the air left their mouths. The troops ran formations and marches and combat drills and in the deep freezing cold the troops worked up a sweat. Out to one side of the training field the special combat units performed their training on the deadly arts. Hand to hand combat and stickfight training and swordplay. Many of them had started out getting the taste for blood on the West University courtyard. Punch or be punched, no alternatives, no outlets.
They gripped the guide ropes of the HMS Fyndir as they raced to the top of the airship. No hesitation. This was competition. This was the challenge to be stronger, fitter, faster. They climbed hand over hand, no footholds, and at the top, they could see the ice stretching along the horizon in a perfect three sixty degree circle. And then they saw the pack of ice-wolves sprinting across the ground in the distance. A flash of grey amongst the frosted white.
Lieutenants. A sergeant bursted into the dining chamber. Sorry to interrupt, but some troops have just spotted a pack of ice-wolves heading in our direction. Requesting permission to call an early departure.
How many? Wilhelm asked. And how far off?
The special combat units got the best view, and they pegged the pack at close to one hundred, about a kilometre off, in full sprint.
Wilhelm looked towards the other two Lieutenants for their thoughts on the matter. Brian gave a brief nod.
The fleet of the HMS Twiglet has my permission to take off. Wilhelm said.
The fleet of the HMS Malkolm has my permission also. Brian said.
They turned to Heather waiting for her input.
HMS Fyndir has my permission. Heather said with a brief sigh.
These were what Heather liked to refer to as 'undesirable circumstances'. The remainder of the roast on the table grew cold in front of them.
IX
How does it feel? The man said to Casper.
How does what feel? Casper responded.
How does it feel knowing that you were in the same room with what was potentially one of your greatest enemies?
How do you know he's an enemy?
How do you know he's not?
Stop doing that. Casper said hotly.
Doing what? I'm just asking you questions. You know you would have thought about them whether I was here or not.
There was no way of knowing where his allegiance stood without exposing myself. If he was an enemy I surely wouldn't have left the airport alive.
And you just keep telling yourself that.
Casper was dreaming. He woke up in a cold sweat and rose from his bed in room number eleven. He walked passed the others as they slept soundly and crept out onto the porch.
You can't sleep either? Seth asked.
Evidently not. Casper said with a wry smile. Can't stop thinking about this war.
Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm nineteen, and for all I know I could be dead tomorrow.
It scares the shit out of me too. Do you think all those ships and planes on the airfield are on our side?
I like to think so.
Hey. We're going to be fine.
What are we going to do tomorrow?
To be honest, I haven't a clue anymore. I was intending on taking the Jericho right on up to the magnetic mountains and try to deal with this Arthur Proctor guy. I mean, surely they'll be expecting all these ships and guns to come charging in, but not so much a handful of wayward travellers.
Have you ever been in a war before?
Me? No. Hasn't been anything for Cardinia to go to war for in a long time. My brother has, though. He moved North for a while and got caught up in a war that wasn't his. He sent me letters from the battlefield. Said that he never wanted me to have to go through anythin like what he did. He didn't come home.
I'm sorry. Seth said. But I guess this one is our war. I mean, it means something to me, surely it must mean something to you. We've got so much to lose. We've got so much to fight for. Hell, if you weren't so doubtful about your plans now, I'd follow you straight into battle without hesitation.
Honestly? After all that stuff about dieing tomorrow?
Well, sure, I think war scares the shit out of everyone, but if I know some good could come out of my efforts, I think it'd be worth it.
X
The sergeant called out his commands with an urgency. Pilots to their stations, troops to their quarters, untie the ships and prepare to depart in ten. The ice-wolves had covered half the distance in the rallying of orders. The smaller ships were well in the air in no time flat, but the larger warships took a lot more preparation to get running. The HMS Fyndir was barely a metre off the ground when the ice-wolves started jumping and snapping their jaws at the ship. That's why a small group of combat pilots hovered back in their one man ships, their Black Barons to hold the wolves off until the three heavy ships could get fully airborne. The Twiglet was the smallest of the three and was easily out of reach by the time the wolves reached them, and even the Malkolm was floating quite well at that point in time, but the Fyndir was close to having the ice-wolves' jaws clamping on to the ship's hull. The distractions of meat, cold roast scattered amongst the ice-wolves below, did nothing to hinder the pack, and the Black Barons fired on the first of the wolves as they leapt at the Fyndir, spattering ice and fur with a thick raspberry red paint.
As the Fyndir pulled out of reach, and the half dozen Black Barons left the wolves to their mess, the lieutenants celebrated quietly, as their passing of one danger was a surefire indicator of their heading into another, greater danger.
They were heading towards altitude when another painful twist in their plans pulled them in yet another undesirable direction. There was smoke emanating from a large hole in the ground. Thick, black, acrid smoke billowing from a gaping hole smashed open in the ice. As they passed over, they saw the oil burning city of Dante's Hollow melting into the burning lake. Heather looked down and thought of Casper and his crew. If only she knew where he was, and if only he knew what she saw. Maybe the fleet would have been a bit more cautious in approaching the Napoleon XI that they saw flying South in the distance.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
In the Valley of the Tempest 5:4-6
IV
Casper paid for their meals in silver pieces. Leanne gave the coins a strange look before nodding the group out the door.
Don't die out there. She called as the door swung shut.
They walked their way about the town to the markets. There they loaded up on fresh food and loaded off the silver. Then they saw the one shop in town with a tin roof. In amongst the carpentry shops and woodwork furnishings shops and other such similarities was the gunsmith shop. The sign out front was designed from burned wood. According to the sign, the shop was owned by a man named J.P. Reucastel.
They walked into the shop to find the man working with mouldings by a large cast-iron boiler.
Welcome, strangers. He called out, pouring steel into a gunframe mould. What can I do for you today?
We're just visiting the town here, thought this shop looked quite interesting. You're not much like the other folks around here, are you?
Neither are you. J.P. Said with a laugh.
But we haven't settled down here. What made you want to get into the gunsmithing business?
I'm going to guess you've heard about this coming war, eh?
Yes. Briefly.
Well these people will need more than sharpened sticks to protect themselves. When the time comes, every man, woman and child should be able to defend themselves with a J.P. Reucastel pistol.
The children too?
Like I said, the guns are always a better option than a stick. If someone was coming for your child, what weapon would you prefer your child to have?
Casper nodded, reluctant to answer. Where do you get your metal?
Shipped in from the magnetic mountains.
Do you have good connections over there?
What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm friends with the enemy?
Not at all, not at all. We need to go to the magnetic mountains, and we could use all the help we can get.
You're not from the magnetic mountains?
No, we're from farther North. What made you think that?
Your clothes. Your android. And besides, the only ones that usually stop by here are the mountainfolk. The locals aren't too keen on my guns just yet.
That makes sense. What sort of guns do you have?
J.P. Left his mould to cool and invited the group through to the storage room and pointed across at all the guns mounted in a glass display box that took up the entirety of the wall. A couple of spots were empty for the larger guns, with a diagram standing place.
I've got at least one of most of the guns on this wall, but if you want the Delta-4500, the Black Locust or the Harvester then they'll need to be custom made. He pointed at the diagrams on the wall. I'll uh... I'll leave you to have a look. If you need anything I'll just be back in the workshop.
There were pocket pistols, revolvers, muskets, rocket launchers, machine guns, anything under the sun and more. Casper thought of the little pistol he had, and the hunting knives that would be useless at a distance. If there were to be conflict, if there was to be a war, and if they were to have any chance whatsoever in killing Arthur Porter and ending the reign of the tempest over the valley and beyond they would need to arm themselves before they embarked on up the mountains.
Casper came out into the workship and said to J.P;
Eight of the Bullnose pistols, please. And sixteen of the Veroona pocket pistol. And ammunition enough for the both of them. And another eight of the Wolfhunter blades.
J.P. Stood up and followed Casper back into the storage room. He retrieved the weapons at Casper's request and handed them one by one to his esteemed customer. Casper passed one Bullnose, on Wolfhunter and two Veroonas to everyone, Cornwall storing his weapons as spares, as he hadn't been programmed for combat. J.P. Reucastel was paid in gold.
V
The crew spent the night in a local inn another few silver pieces, and got off to an early start the following morning. In the twilight before dawn they walked back to the airport. The road was mostly still and other than the occasional harvester in the field, they were the only ones about this early. When they reached the airstrip the HMS Clementine had already departed, much to the disappointment of Beatrix. As they passed the airport early morning workers they heard fragments of conversation, the Clementine's pre-dawn take off was somewhat of an event.
Something's going on. Said a janitor in beige overalls to the baggage handler.
They loaded their supplies into the Jericho and took off as the sun spilled over the horizon. Another day, further South. Another day closer to the mountains. They passed over more towns and villages in their flight path, most looking similar to Woodsdale, like an old child's play set from the sky. As they passed over a small portside city Beatrix noticed the Clementine parked on the outlying airfield.
This. Joseph said. Is Newport. And that. He pointed towards the sea. Is the Ringwood Sea. It runs all the way down to the mountains.
Beatrix nodded. There was an aura about the city that the previous settlements lacked. It was more than just timber upon timber logged and carved and sanded and varnished and polished arranged into something hospitable and functional. It was trucks and trains, it was boats and cranes. The structures and machines were reinforced with iron and steel and aluminium and copper and brass. Newport had the rudimentary elements of a proper city structure.
They flew overhead and viewed the city as a coherent whole, and then they passed on through the everlong Hartfield forest. There were none of the micro-societies to their North, but rather hardwood trees as far as the eye could see. The land dipped and swerved and flowed with little streams and rivers and peaked into rocky clusters and still the trees grew thick and full and deep dark green. And then came the large flat granite slab atop a rise in the land, a plateau upon which a grand city was perched. Towering fortified structures, twisting and spiralling into the sky. The city was shown as of one many years in the making. The streets were littered with brass framed carts towed by horses, with up to four or five people riding along the cobbled streets. Hartfield revelled in a world thought long lost, its medieval architecture could have easily come off as quaint if not for the sheer impressiveness of it all. As they drew nearer and they were able to see the architecture in all its glory at some detail, an airship rose from the airport to the South. Quite simply put, it was of a grand design, an intricate brass framing with bleached leather stretched over the air cavity. Steam valves sprayed high pressure vaour in all directions as it slowly drifted into the air, the valves keeping the ship balanced. The SS Jentry was almost twice the size of the Napoleon XI.
That's a warship, the Jentry is. Joseph pointed out.
Should we land in Hartfield? Beatrix asked to Casper.
No, keep flying. Joseph answered.
Where should we stop then? Casper asked.
The Kailan Junction, definitely. Joseph nodded. It's not too far ahead, can't miss it. If something's going on in these parts, we should be able to get some answers at the Kailan Junction.
Beatrix looked across to Casper for confirmation. He nodded his approval and they passed over Hartfield without another moment's hesitation.
VI
How's the weather, Sarge? Heather asked.
Looking mostly fine, may run into a storm or two towards dawn, but we should be able to cruise over it when the time comes.
And the take off crew? Are they ready to go? All troops on deck and accounted for?
Yes, Lieutenant.
Then let's get the fleet off the ground before we invent any more delays.
Right away, Lieutennant.
Lieutenant Heather Quartermain walked brisquely towards the HMS Fyndir, ready to embark, whilst Sargent Brett Marshall passed the orders down to the pilots in the fleet, who were converged by the airstrip, waiting for him. There was a sluggishness about the whole operation, but the whole fleet was in the air and in formation before midnight. They flew over the many homes of the sleeping Berwick residents who didn't have a clue that their Naval fleet, their sworn protectors were answering the call to protect the nation of Cardinia from the tempest.
The ships of the fleed had all been fitted with magnetic compasses and they all steered towards magnetic South. They say that the quickest way to get from point A to point B is in a straight line. The Cardinian Navy were going to put this concept into practice, they weren't exactly keen on fucking around. Throughout the night the fleet slowly raised their altitude and they passed above cloud level as they flew over the Mariam Ravine.
As dawn approached, they were greeted by the Croydon-Floreat Naval fleet, as well as the Ravensport fleet, allies that had been called upon as soon as the word war was mentioned.Lieutenant Quartermain greeted the other Lieutenants through the vistograph chambers installed in the warships. The chambers were arranged as such so that rather than the one-on-one exchange as per the standard vistograph chambers, these were custom linked specifically for councils of war. Cardinia, Croydon, Floreat and Ravensport were all part of the Southern Alliance, as well as Maitland and Leroy. The chambers were arranged in a circle of five, and it was somewhat unusual to enter council with empty seats.
Good morning, Lieutenants. Heather said, addressing the other two in the chamber.
Morning, Lieutenant Quartermain. Responded Lieutenant Wilhelm Murat of the HMS Twiglet.
Good morning, Lieutenant. Said Brian Malouin of the HMS Malkolm.
Thank you for responding to our calls so quickly. Heather said.
Nonesense, it's nothing short of our duty. Wilhelm said. I'm sure you would have done the same for Croydon-Floreat in a heartbeat.
Yes, well that's more than I can say for the Maitland and Leroy fleets.
Perhaps they didn't receive your message? Brian suggested.
It's possible. Or they could have ignored the call as the war of the tempest won't affect them in the slightest. They're too far North to care for the matter.
Yes, well if that's so, it will put a large strain on the alliance. I'm not all too comfortable with it to be honest. Wilhelm said.
What's the purpose of the alliance if they're not going to address matters that are concerned with the alliance as a whole?! Heather said, clearly frustrated. Out there. Out in the valley there are forces unrrivalled and we have all suffered at the hand of those forces. And now they threated with war and we can't ever respond with full strength? Do they want to start a war in their own states?!
Calm down, Lietuenant. Brian said. We can address the matter afterward. Right now we are heading into the war ourselves and we must act on that first and foremost. Please, I implore you to think nothing more of the matter until we're back on our own soil.
Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant. Heather said.
Casper paid for their meals in silver pieces. Leanne gave the coins a strange look before nodding the group out the door.
Don't die out there. She called as the door swung shut.
They walked their way about the town to the markets. There they loaded up on fresh food and loaded off the silver. Then they saw the one shop in town with a tin roof. In amongst the carpentry shops and woodwork furnishings shops and other such similarities was the gunsmith shop. The sign out front was designed from burned wood. According to the sign, the shop was owned by a man named J.P. Reucastel.
They walked into the shop to find the man working with mouldings by a large cast-iron boiler.
Welcome, strangers. He called out, pouring steel into a gunframe mould. What can I do for you today?
We're just visiting the town here, thought this shop looked quite interesting. You're not much like the other folks around here, are you?
Neither are you. J.P. Said with a laugh.
But we haven't settled down here. What made you want to get into the gunsmithing business?
I'm going to guess you've heard about this coming war, eh?
Yes. Briefly.
Well these people will need more than sharpened sticks to protect themselves. When the time comes, every man, woman and child should be able to defend themselves with a J.P. Reucastel pistol.
The children too?
Like I said, the guns are always a better option than a stick. If someone was coming for your child, what weapon would you prefer your child to have?
Casper nodded, reluctant to answer. Where do you get your metal?
Shipped in from the magnetic mountains.
Do you have good connections over there?
What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm friends with the enemy?
Not at all, not at all. We need to go to the magnetic mountains, and we could use all the help we can get.
You're not from the magnetic mountains?
No, we're from farther North. What made you think that?
Your clothes. Your android. And besides, the only ones that usually stop by here are the mountainfolk. The locals aren't too keen on my guns just yet.
That makes sense. What sort of guns do you have?
J.P. Left his mould to cool and invited the group through to the storage room and pointed across at all the guns mounted in a glass display box that took up the entirety of the wall. A couple of spots were empty for the larger guns, with a diagram standing place.
I've got at least one of most of the guns on this wall, but if you want the Delta-4500, the Black Locust or the Harvester then they'll need to be custom made. He pointed at the diagrams on the wall. I'll uh... I'll leave you to have a look. If you need anything I'll just be back in the workshop.
There were pocket pistols, revolvers, muskets, rocket launchers, machine guns, anything under the sun and more. Casper thought of the little pistol he had, and the hunting knives that would be useless at a distance. If there were to be conflict, if there was to be a war, and if they were to have any chance whatsoever in killing Arthur Porter and ending the reign of the tempest over the valley and beyond they would need to arm themselves before they embarked on up the mountains.
Casper came out into the workship and said to J.P;
Eight of the Bullnose pistols, please. And sixteen of the Veroona pocket pistol. And ammunition enough for the both of them. And another eight of the Wolfhunter blades.
J.P. Stood up and followed Casper back into the storage room. He retrieved the weapons at Casper's request and handed them one by one to his esteemed customer. Casper passed one Bullnose, on Wolfhunter and two Veroonas to everyone, Cornwall storing his weapons as spares, as he hadn't been programmed for combat. J.P. Reucastel was paid in gold.
V
The crew spent the night in a local inn another few silver pieces, and got off to an early start the following morning. In the twilight before dawn they walked back to the airport. The road was mostly still and other than the occasional harvester in the field, they were the only ones about this early. When they reached the airstrip the HMS Clementine had already departed, much to the disappointment of Beatrix. As they passed the airport early morning workers they heard fragments of conversation, the Clementine's pre-dawn take off was somewhat of an event.
Something's going on. Said a janitor in beige overalls to the baggage handler.
They loaded their supplies into the Jericho and took off as the sun spilled over the horizon. Another day, further South. Another day closer to the mountains. They passed over more towns and villages in their flight path, most looking similar to Woodsdale, like an old child's play set from the sky. As they passed over a small portside city Beatrix noticed the Clementine parked on the outlying airfield.
This. Joseph said. Is Newport. And that. He pointed towards the sea. Is the Ringwood Sea. It runs all the way down to the mountains.
Beatrix nodded. There was an aura about the city that the previous settlements lacked. It was more than just timber upon timber logged and carved and sanded and varnished and polished arranged into something hospitable and functional. It was trucks and trains, it was boats and cranes. The structures and machines were reinforced with iron and steel and aluminium and copper and brass. Newport had the rudimentary elements of a proper city structure.
They flew overhead and viewed the city as a coherent whole, and then they passed on through the everlong Hartfield forest. There were none of the micro-societies to their North, but rather hardwood trees as far as the eye could see. The land dipped and swerved and flowed with little streams and rivers and peaked into rocky clusters and still the trees grew thick and full and deep dark green. And then came the large flat granite slab atop a rise in the land, a plateau upon which a grand city was perched. Towering fortified structures, twisting and spiralling into the sky. The city was shown as of one many years in the making. The streets were littered with brass framed carts towed by horses, with up to four or five people riding along the cobbled streets. Hartfield revelled in a world thought long lost, its medieval architecture could have easily come off as quaint if not for the sheer impressiveness of it all. As they drew nearer and they were able to see the architecture in all its glory at some detail, an airship rose from the airport to the South. Quite simply put, it was of a grand design, an intricate brass framing with bleached leather stretched over the air cavity. Steam valves sprayed high pressure vaour in all directions as it slowly drifted into the air, the valves keeping the ship balanced. The SS Jentry was almost twice the size of the Napoleon XI.
That's a warship, the Jentry is. Joseph pointed out.
Should we land in Hartfield? Beatrix asked to Casper.
No, keep flying. Joseph answered.
Where should we stop then? Casper asked.
The Kailan Junction, definitely. Joseph nodded. It's not too far ahead, can't miss it. If something's going on in these parts, we should be able to get some answers at the Kailan Junction.
Beatrix looked across to Casper for confirmation. He nodded his approval and they passed over Hartfield without another moment's hesitation.
VI
How's the weather, Sarge? Heather asked.
Looking mostly fine, may run into a storm or two towards dawn, but we should be able to cruise over it when the time comes.
And the take off crew? Are they ready to go? All troops on deck and accounted for?
Yes, Lieutenant.
Then let's get the fleet off the ground before we invent any more delays.
Right away, Lieutennant.
Lieutenant Heather Quartermain walked brisquely towards the HMS Fyndir, ready to embark, whilst Sargent Brett Marshall passed the orders down to the pilots in the fleet, who were converged by the airstrip, waiting for him. There was a sluggishness about the whole operation, but the whole fleet was in the air and in formation before midnight. They flew over the many homes of the sleeping Berwick residents who didn't have a clue that their Naval fleet, their sworn protectors were answering the call to protect the nation of Cardinia from the tempest.
The ships of the fleed had all been fitted with magnetic compasses and they all steered towards magnetic South. They say that the quickest way to get from point A to point B is in a straight line. The Cardinian Navy were going to put this concept into practice, they weren't exactly keen on fucking around. Throughout the night the fleet slowly raised their altitude and they passed above cloud level as they flew over the Mariam Ravine.
As dawn approached, they were greeted by the Croydon-Floreat Naval fleet, as well as the Ravensport fleet, allies that had been called upon as soon as the word war was mentioned.Lieutenant Quartermain greeted the other Lieutenants through the vistograph chambers installed in the warships. The chambers were arranged as such so that rather than the one-on-one exchange as per the standard vistograph chambers, these were custom linked specifically for councils of war. Cardinia, Croydon, Floreat and Ravensport were all part of the Southern Alliance, as well as Maitland and Leroy. The chambers were arranged in a circle of five, and it was somewhat unusual to enter council with empty seats.
Good morning, Lieutenants. Heather said, addressing the other two in the chamber.
Morning, Lieutenant Quartermain. Responded Lieutenant Wilhelm Murat of the HMS Twiglet.
Good morning, Lieutenant. Said Brian Malouin of the HMS Malkolm.
Thank you for responding to our calls so quickly. Heather said.
Nonesense, it's nothing short of our duty. Wilhelm said. I'm sure you would have done the same for Croydon-Floreat in a heartbeat.
Yes, well that's more than I can say for the Maitland and Leroy fleets.
Perhaps they didn't receive your message? Brian suggested.
It's possible. Or they could have ignored the call as the war of the tempest won't affect them in the slightest. They're too far North to care for the matter.
Yes, well if that's so, it will put a large strain on the alliance. I'm not all too comfortable with it to be honest. Wilhelm said.
What's the purpose of the alliance if they're not going to address matters that are concerned with the alliance as a whole?! Heather said, clearly frustrated. Out there. Out in the valley there are forces unrrivalled and we have all suffered at the hand of those forces. And now they threated with war and we can't ever respond with full strength? Do they want to start a war in their own states?!
Calm down, Lietuenant. Brian said. We can address the matter afterward. Right now we are heading into the war ourselves and we must act on that first and foremost. Please, I implore you to think nothing more of the matter until we're back on our own soil.
Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant. Heather said.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
In the Valley of the Tempest 5:1-3
Butterflies and Hurricanes
The tempest stirs, the city trembles and they all fall down. A war is coming, and they ask you this one question; are you in or are you out?
I
So, these magnetic mountains. Casper said conversationally. You seen them?
Yeah. Joseph said. Been there. He chewed on a mouthful of breakfast sausage cooked on the stoked coals of last night's fire. Mind you, I was only little when it happened.
Whereabouts are they, exactly? How far off, I mean.
What do you know about the mountains?
I've been told that they're giant mountains of iron ore that hover above the ground, repelled by the earth's magnetic field.
Which mean's you're most likely to find them...
... at the magnetic South pole.
Right. Now I know you're probably wondering how that's possible when we're navigating more South-East to what your compass says?
Casper nodded.
Well that's an easy one. Your compass was calibrated to geographical North, not magnetic. There's quite a difference as you reach towards either geographic or magnetic poles. It all slides way out of sync.
They packed up their camp and threw it all back on the plane. Seth took Marmaduke in his arms in the cockpit. Beatrix took the plane up out over the sand dunes that now blistered their way across the landscape.
So you didn't end up answering me properly back there. Casper said. How far are we from the magnetic mountains?
Another day or two. Joseph said. Maybe more if we stop in at the towns on the way.
What towns? Casper asked.
You living under a rock? Joseph chided Casper. They're all over the place.
Well I've no way of knowing that! Casper defended. The maps of the civilised world shows little of the valley as it is, and nothing of settlements therein.
Yet there are communities in the marshes, by the great lakes in the ice caves, on the magnetic mountains. I thought you'd have wisened up by now, you don't always trust what the maps tell you.
Sure enough, further into the dunes there were little desert camps peppered about the place.
Keep flying. Joseph said. These aren't the sort of people you want to associate yourselves with.
I didn't say anything. Casper said.
If you want to stop and check out the locals then you're better off waiting until you reach Woodsdale. At least they have a small airport where you'll be able to safely land.
How do we get to thiss Woodsdale, Joseph? Beatrix asked.
It's a little further to the East. Joseph said. Just keep on following the dunes low and you should spot it soon enough.
II
The earthquake that hit Berwick the night earlier was the largest in almost a century. It came up from the ravine and shook the very walls to the core. Houses crumbled and cracks split through the earth. People were in panic mode. Nothing could be done.
What was that?
Probably nothing. Joseph said. Probably nothing.
The dunes had transformed and grown into rolling grassy fields. And from there the landscape churned over to a thick, dark forest of trees, and in the distance, Woodsdale came over the horizon. It was nestled deep in the forest land, but it was definitely not some little woodland village. Fine architecture and carpenty aplenty, stretching over several kilometres of cleared forest. They circled over the town as Beatrix scanned the ground for the airport, for the runway. It was tiny, but she did her best bringing the plane down onto the dirt path. Then she saw why the runway was so small. It didn't usually accommodate for planes, It was a balooning port. There were three hangars in total. And there was a little airship fuelling up on the runway. It appeared to have a stretchbark bladder stitched up and probably sealed with animal grease. That was the way the ancestors in Berwick had built their first ships, and it was those stretchbark ships that brought the convicts into the valley.
Oh, cool. Beatrix said. They've got a replica of the HMS Clementine! She pointed at the ship being fuelled up.
What's the HMS Clementine? Seth asked.
It was the first ship to be built on Berwick soil. Beatrix said.
It was the first ship in the fleet that sent the convicts to the magnetic mountains. Joseph said. It didn't come back. I'd hazard a guess that this is the one and only.
They walked through the airport to a sea of bewildered faces. They had a distinct look about themselves that said 'hey, I'm not from these parts'. The airport was a bit of a hike from town, but the crew seemed more than content to make the walk to town and mingle with the civilised folk, and hopefully learn a few things about the magnetic mountains and the tempest. They passed several crop farms on their walk to town as well as a small cluster of animal farms. The occasional tractor putted across its fields as they passed, and once or twice a large harvester grinding at the long crops with its sharpened hardwood cutters. The carpentry and craftsmanship of these machines bordered on exceptional.
In the town they found their way into 'the Greasy Carpenter', the local eatery. The place where talk happens, or so Casper says. They went inside, crammed a couple of tables together and ordered some real food.
So. Casper said to the waitress. Leanne. He read the name pinned on her chest. What's the coffee like here?
Hot. She said. We got black and we got white. Sugar, no sugar, regular, decaf.
I'll get a regular white coffee. One sugar, thanks. How often do the airships come and go? Casper asked.
Every couple of days or so. The Clementine gets a fair bit of a runabout for such an old bird.
Where does it go?
Newport, Hartfield, the Kailan Junction, the works. You guys look like you're out of town. Surely you must know the airship's course?
Yeah, we're out of town, but we flew in on our own machine. We don't really know the area well, is all.
You're not with them mountainfolk, are you? Leanne asked, suspiciously.
No, not at all. We're from the other spectrum. We came from the North.
What, Dante's Hollow?
Further. Berwick. Past the great lakes and the marshes. On the Northern edge of the valley.
Shit. So you're really not from around here? Well you should probaby head out as soon as you can. Take your ship and go North. Go North as far as you can and don't come back.
Why? Why should we just up and leave after we've come this far? Is it about the tempest? About Arthur Proctor?
Of course. So you know about the coming war then?
What?
III
The Berwick Navy base had called it an emergency. Throughout the years they had been gathering the facts and now they felt it was time to act. The base, thirty kilometres from the city was preparing its fleet for something that had been a long time coming. The HMS Fyndir was the largest airship this side of the hemisphere. It had a two thousand soldier capacity, and each of the smaller Sentinel ships were capable of taking five hundred men. There were also one thousand single pilot Rombrat stealth bombers at disposal. Lieutenant Heather Quatermain sat in her office running through the procedures and plans, but she kept looking back on the letter.
It was dated days before the earthquake struck and it was written in a wild, looping handwriting almost illegible. It was a forewarning of the tempest, and at first Heather thought it was from Casper, and that it was another failed expedition into the valley, but this... this was different. It told of Casper and the magnetic mountains. It told of disasters reaching not only to the heart of the city, but far reaching across the continent. Of the earthquake it was told, clear as day that this is what would happen. It gave coordinates to the magnetic mountains and guidelines on what action should be taken; as in addition to the foreshadowed tempest working its way across the continent, it also foreshadowed an unavoidable war. Wait until the earthquake hits, it said. Then you will know I am speaking the truth. Send as many as you can spare. It was signed from Ursula Estwing.
In the aftermath of the earthquake troops were shipped in from all over the country. It didn't take long for Heather to call the decision and get the necessary approval. There was going to be a war in the magnetic mountains, and the crew of the Napoleon XI were going to get caught up in it all. The plans were to have the troops armed and ready by tomorrow and to make departure in the night. The ships were fuelled and ready. They could easily sail at much higher altitudes than the Napoleon XI, and with the coordinates at hand, they could make the journey in a couple of days. The naval fleet were some of the fastest ships in the country. Heather eyed off her half-blank maps and expected that they would make landing on the Southern ice-shelf on the afternoon after departure.
The first off-base troops started arriving at the naval base near on 11pm. The army auto-trucks rumbled up to the tall brass-wire gates and the driver showed the guard his paperwork. With a nod of approval the guard activated the hydraulics that opened the gate. The Lieutenant greeted the new troops herself, with a rigid salute returned with the stiff scent of discipline. Perfect, she thought. She barked instructions at the young troops and they joined with the on-base recruits in preparing the fleet for the big launch.
Over the next twenty four hours troops arrived by the truckload and the ships came to be stocked with supplies and ammunition. Each troop was kitted out in full national uniform and given their knives, pistols and auto-guns, and come evening they stood in their thousands standing tall and attentively towards their commanding officer, Lieutenant Heather Quartermain.
Soldiers. She called out. Tonight we head to war.
The troops cheered.
Tonight. She continued. Tonight we set out into the valley. We have been informed that an army is being formed in the magnetic mountains, an army that has been building for years and years and years. We know little of them, in fact we sent an expedition of seven into the valley recently, thinking the matter could be handled with so few. Here we stand tonight in the thousands to give the tempest in the valley a battle. Last night they made our ground tremble, last night they brought Berwick shaking to its knees. Now, you are all here with me to return the favour. Soon their earth will tremble with the might of the Cardinian Navy.
The tempest stirs, the city trembles and they all fall down. A war is coming, and they ask you this one question; are you in or are you out?
I
So, these magnetic mountains. Casper said conversationally. You seen them?
Yeah. Joseph said. Been there. He chewed on a mouthful of breakfast sausage cooked on the stoked coals of last night's fire. Mind you, I was only little when it happened.
Whereabouts are they, exactly? How far off, I mean.
What do you know about the mountains?
I've been told that they're giant mountains of iron ore that hover above the ground, repelled by the earth's magnetic field.
Which mean's you're most likely to find them...
... at the magnetic South pole.
Right. Now I know you're probably wondering how that's possible when we're navigating more South-East to what your compass says?
Casper nodded.
Well that's an easy one. Your compass was calibrated to geographical North, not magnetic. There's quite a difference as you reach towards either geographic or magnetic poles. It all slides way out of sync.
They packed up their camp and threw it all back on the plane. Seth took Marmaduke in his arms in the cockpit. Beatrix took the plane up out over the sand dunes that now blistered their way across the landscape.
So you didn't end up answering me properly back there. Casper said. How far are we from the magnetic mountains?
Another day or two. Joseph said. Maybe more if we stop in at the towns on the way.
What towns? Casper asked.
You living under a rock? Joseph chided Casper. They're all over the place.
Well I've no way of knowing that! Casper defended. The maps of the civilised world shows little of the valley as it is, and nothing of settlements therein.
Yet there are communities in the marshes, by the great lakes in the ice caves, on the magnetic mountains. I thought you'd have wisened up by now, you don't always trust what the maps tell you.
Sure enough, further into the dunes there were little desert camps peppered about the place.
Keep flying. Joseph said. These aren't the sort of people you want to associate yourselves with.
I didn't say anything. Casper said.
If you want to stop and check out the locals then you're better off waiting until you reach Woodsdale. At least they have a small airport where you'll be able to safely land.
How do we get to thiss Woodsdale, Joseph? Beatrix asked.
It's a little further to the East. Joseph said. Just keep on following the dunes low and you should spot it soon enough.
II
The earthquake that hit Berwick the night earlier was the largest in almost a century. It came up from the ravine and shook the very walls to the core. Houses crumbled and cracks split through the earth. People were in panic mode. Nothing could be done.
What was that?
Probably nothing. Joseph said. Probably nothing.
The dunes had transformed and grown into rolling grassy fields. And from there the landscape churned over to a thick, dark forest of trees, and in the distance, Woodsdale came over the horizon. It was nestled deep in the forest land, but it was definitely not some little woodland village. Fine architecture and carpenty aplenty, stretching over several kilometres of cleared forest. They circled over the town as Beatrix scanned the ground for the airport, for the runway. It was tiny, but she did her best bringing the plane down onto the dirt path. Then she saw why the runway was so small. It didn't usually accommodate for planes, It was a balooning port. There were three hangars in total. And there was a little airship fuelling up on the runway. It appeared to have a stretchbark bladder stitched up and probably sealed with animal grease. That was the way the ancestors in Berwick had built their first ships, and it was those stretchbark ships that brought the convicts into the valley.
Oh, cool. Beatrix said. They've got a replica of the HMS Clementine! She pointed at the ship being fuelled up.
What's the HMS Clementine? Seth asked.
It was the first ship to be built on Berwick soil. Beatrix said.
It was the first ship in the fleet that sent the convicts to the magnetic mountains. Joseph said. It didn't come back. I'd hazard a guess that this is the one and only.
They walked through the airport to a sea of bewildered faces. They had a distinct look about themselves that said 'hey, I'm not from these parts'. The airport was a bit of a hike from town, but the crew seemed more than content to make the walk to town and mingle with the civilised folk, and hopefully learn a few things about the magnetic mountains and the tempest. They passed several crop farms on their walk to town as well as a small cluster of animal farms. The occasional tractor putted across its fields as they passed, and once or twice a large harvester grinding at the long crops with its sharpened hardwood cutters. The carpentry and craftsmanship of these machines bordered on exceptional.
In the town they found their way into 'the Greasy Carpenter', the local eatery. The place where talk happens, or so Casper says. They went inside, crammed a couple of tables together and ordered some real food.
So. Casper said to the waitress. Leanne. He read the name pinned on her chest. What's the coffee like here?
Hot. She said. We got black and we got white. Sugar, no sugar, regular, decaf.
I'll get a regular white coffee. One sugar, thanks. How often do the airships come and go? Casper asked.
Every couple of days or so. The Clementine gets a fair bit of a runabout for such an old bird.
Where does it go?
Newport, Hartfield, the Kailan Junction, the works. You guys look like you're out of town. Surely you must know the airship's course?
Yeah, we're out of town, but we flew in on our own machine. We don't really know the area well, is all.
You're not with them mountainfolk, are you? Leanne asked, suspiciously.
No, not at all. We're from the other spectrum. We came from the North.
What, Dante's Hollow?
Further. Berwick. Past the great lakes and the marshes. On the Northern edge of the valley.
Shit. So you're really not from around here? Well you should probaby head out as soon as you can. Take your ship and go North. Go North as far as you can and don't come back.
Why? Why should we just up and leave after we've come this far? Is it about the tempest? About Arthur Proctor?
Of course. So you know about the coming war then?
What?
III
The Berwick Navy base had called it an emergency. Throughout the years they had been gathering the facts and now they felt it was time to act. The base, thirty kilometres from the city was preparing its fleet for something that had been a long time coming. The HMS Fyndir was the largest airship this side of the hemisphere. It had a two thousand soldier capacity, and each of the smaller Sentinel ships were capable of taking five hundred men. There were also one thousand single pilot Rombrat stealth bombers at disposal. Lieutenant Heather Quatermain sat in her office running through the procedures and plans, but she kept looking back on the letter.
It was dated days before the earthquake struck and it was written in a wild, looping handwriting almost illegible. It was a forewarning of the tempest, and at first Heather thought it was from Casper, and that it was another failed expedition into the valley, but this... this was different. It told of Casper and the magnetic mountains. It told of disasters reaching not only to the heart of the city, but far reaching across the continent. Of the earthquake it was told, clear as day that this is what would happen. It gave coordinates to the magnetic mountains and guidelines on what action should be taken; as in addition to the foreshadowed tempest working its way across the continent, it also foreshadowed an unavoidable war. Wait until the earthquake hits, it said. Then you will know I am speaking the truth. Send as many as you can spare. It was signed from Ursula Estwing.
In the aftermath of the earthquake troops were shipped in from all over the country. It didn't take long for Heather to call the decision and get the necessary approval. There was going to be a war in the magnetic mountains, and the crew of the Napoleon XI were going to get caught up in it all. The plans were to have the troops armed and ready by tomorrow and to make departure in the night. The ships were fuelled and ready. They could easily sail at much higher altitudes than the Napoleon XI, and with the coordinates at hand, they could make the journey in a couple of days. The naval fleet were some of the fastest ships in the country. Heather eyed off her half-blank maps and expected that they would make landing on the Southern ice-shelf on the afternoon after departure.
The first off-base troops started arriving at the naval base near on 11pm. The army auto-trucks rumbled up to the tall brass-wire gates and the driver showed the guard his paperwork. With a nod of approval the guard activated the hydraulics that opened the gate. The Lieutenant greeted the new troops herself, with a rigid salute returned with the stiff scent of discipline. Perfect, she thought. She barked instructions at the young troops and they joined with the on-base recruits in preparing the fleet for the big launch.
Over the next twenty four hours troops arrived by the truckload and the ships came to be stocked with supplies and ammunition. Each troop was kitted out in full national uniform and given their knives, pistols and auto-guns, and come evening they stood in their thousands standing tall and attentively towards their commanding officer, Lieutenant Heather Quartermain.
Soldiers. She called out. Tonight we head to war.
The troops cheered.
Tonight. She continued. Tonight we set out into the valley. We have been informed that an army is being formed in the magnetic mountains, an army that has been building for years and years and years. We know little of them, in fact we sent an expedition of seven into the valley recently, thinking the matter could be handled with so few. Here we stand tonight in the thousands to give the tempest in the valley a battle. Last night they made our ground tremble, last night they brought Berwick shaking to its knees. Now, you are all here with me to return the favour. Soon their earth will tremble with the might of the Cardinian Navy.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
In the Valley of the Tempest 4:10
X
The ice was displaced by pure white beach sand. When Casper's head came up on the other side he could hardly believe it. They had crossed the antarctic plate. They had come out on the other side. Beatrix was the nest to emerge. And then Timothy. Seth was taking a little longer. His lungs weren't lasting as long as he anticipated and as he clawed for the mesh he began to see spots. He kicked harder. He plunged his arms further. He tried not to think about his empty lungs.
He emerged choking up water on the other side. Beatrix swam back out to help him to shore. Once Casper, Joseph and Timothy saw he was ok, they got to looking for the steel door.
Thanks. Seth said.
You're lucky. Beatrix responded.
It was probably less than a minute that the other three were walking down the beach before they saw the steel door. It stood about twenty metres up the wall face. Casper and Joseph had begun swimming back out to it when Timothy ran back for Seth and Beatrix.
Joe's found the door. He said.
We figured he had. Beatrix said.
They got to their feet and jogged down the beach until they could see the steel door too. Then they followed Casper and Joe back out to the ice plate. This time Seth took the swim a little easier and the others had allstarted climbing the wall when he caught up. Joe was already perhaps half way.
They pulled themselves up one by one into the little hollow in the wall and there it was. The steel door about four metres high andeight metres wide. It was somewhat of a surprise that they weren't able to spot it from the other side.
It frosts over a little from time to time. Sometimes it blends in. Joseph said.
He spun the handle around then pushed the door inwards to the lagoon, it parted in the middle and each half sunk neatly into the walls.
Ok. That's great. Seth said. But how do we get down. You said the ladder was only on the outside?
Yeah. We jump down. Joe said. He took a look over the ledge before picking his spot. He took a few paces back and made a running jump down into the lagoon.
Seth, Beatrix, Timothy and Casper looked over the ledge to see if he was ok. He bobbed back to the surface hooting and waving for the others to join. Timothy jumped. Seth jumped. Beatrix jumped. And Casper jumped. They hit the water in a series of spectacular splashes, foam sprayed up and around and nothing could compare with the pounding adrenaline resonating through their skin. They swam back to the plane, their clothes wet right through.
They climbed back into the Jericho, where Grissom and Richmond had been stretching lazily over the seats and making the most of the moment's rest. Once everyone was bluckled in Beatrix fired up the engine and circled the plane around. The plane took off on a steady incline, picking up speed and approaching the steel door faster than they knew it. Beatrix turned sharp and slipped through the narrow hole in the wall. Sunlight. Fresh, pure sunlight spilled into the cockpit and the Jericho passed over the beach. Beatrix set the plane down upon the shoreline and anchored down for the night.
On the beach they unloaded some supplies from the Jericho, tents, food, amongst other gear. And one Marmaduke. Seth and Casper were setting up the camp while Joseph took to the water with a makeshift spear from a broken tree branch and the others brought out the supplies. Beatrix came into camp carrying the small ball of fur.
Hey, look who I found tucked away on the Jericho. Beatrix said, showing Marmaduke to Seth and Casper. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this would you, Seth?
What? No. Seth said, averting from her gaze and returning to hammering in the tent pegs.
That night they ate fish cooked on a roaring beach fire and slept right by the shore in their tents pitched on the shore beneath the stars.While the rest of the crew sat hypnotized in the warm glow of the fire after dinner Joseph swam back to the ice-plate and shut off the steel door and latched the mesh barrier closed again. Seth and Beatrix took Marmaduke for a run down the beach. He had definitely been cooped up in the plane for too long. They returned to a fire glowing deep red in its last moments and they slid into their tent and slept.
The ice was displaced by pure white beach sand. When Casper's head came up on the other side he could hardly believe it. They had crossed the antarctic plate. They had come out on the other side. Beatrix was the nest to emerge. And then Timothy. Seth was taking a little longer. His lungs weren't lasting as long as he anticipated and as he clawed for the mesh he began to see spots. He kicked harder. He plunged his arms further. He tried not to think about his empty lungs.
He emerged choking up water on the other side. Beatrix swam back out to help him to shore. Once Casper, Joseph and Timothy saw he was ok, they got to looking for the steel door.
Thanks. Seth said.
You're lucky. Beatrix responded.
It was probably less than a minute that the other three were walking down the beach before they saw the steel door. It stood about twenty metres up the wall face. Casper and Joseph had begun swimming back out to it when Timothy ran back for Seth and Beatrix.
Joe's found the door. He said.
We figured he had. Beatrix said.
They got to their feet and jogged down the beach until they could see the steel door too. Then they followed Casper and Joe back out to the ice plate. This time Seth took the swim a little easier and the others had allstarted climbing the wall when he caught up. Joe was already perhaps half way.
They pulled themselves up one by one into the little hollow in the wall and there it was. The steel door about four metres high andeight metres wide. It was somewhat of a surprise that they weren't able to spot it from the other side.
It frosts over a little from time to time. Sometimes it blends in. Joseph said.
He spun the handle around then pushed the door inwards to the lagoon, it parted in the middle and each half sunk neatly into the walls.
Ok. That's great. Seth said. But how do we get down. You said the ladder was only on the outside?
Yeah. We jump down. Joe said. He took a look over the ledge before picking his spot. He took a few paces back and made a running jump down into the lagoon.
Seth, Beatrix, Timothy and Casper looked over the ledge to see if he was ok. He bobbed back to the surface hooting and waving for the others to join. Timothy jumped. Seth jumped. Beatrix jumped. And Casper jumped. They hit the water in a series of spectacular splashes, foam sprayed up and around and nothing could compare with the pounding adrenaline resonating through their skin. They swam back to the plane, their clothes wet right through.
They climbed back into the Jericho, where Grissom and Richmond had been stretching lazily over the seats and making the most of the moment's rest. Once everyone was bluckled in Beatrix fired up the engine and circled the plane around. The plane took off on a steady incline, picking up speed and approaching the steel door faster than they knew it. Beatrix turned sharp and slipped through the narrow hole in the wall. Sunlight. Fresh, pure sunlight spilled into the cockpit and the Jericho passed over the beach. Beatrix set the plane down upon the shoreline and anchored down for the night.
On the beach they unloaded some supplies from the Jericho, tents, food, amongst other gear. And one Marmaduke. Seth and Casper were setting up the camp while Joseph took to the water with a makeshift spear from a broken tree branch and the others brought out the supplies. Beatrix came into camp carrying the small ball of fur.
Hey, look who I found tucked away on the Jericho. Beatrix said, showing Marmaduke to Seth and Casper. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this would you, Seth?
What? No. Seth said, averting from her gaze and returning to hammering in the tent pegs.
That night they ate fish cooked on a roaring beach fire and slept right by the shore in their tents pitched on the shore beneath the stars.While the rest of the crew sat hypnotized in the warm glow of the fire after dinner Joseph swam back to the ice-plate and shut off the steel door and latched the mesh barrier closed again. Seth and Beatrix took Marmaduke for a run down the beach. He had definitely been cooped up in the plane for too long. They returned to a fire glowing deep red in its last moments and they slid into their tent and slept.
Monday, November 16, 2009
In the Valley of the Tempest 4:7-9
VII
They entered the small tunnel, pushing slowly through the water. The ice roof was low enough to touch while sitting down. Timothy began to feel the claustrophobia. The walls were narrow and if they ran into danger there was no way of turning around. They were in this small tunnel until the end. They had left the lake-sloughs behind but Timothy still bit down on the whistle and breathed through it deeply, such that on occasions it would pitch out an audible squeal. They were just following glowing dust in rogue territory in prusuit of a pile of nuts and bolts. Sure, he did a good job on the ship, but Timothy hated being in a tight space where he had no control over things.
After some paddling, the ceiling began to rise as if they were paddling down through a hairline chasm. Black above, black below, the walls resonated purple from the light and the illuminated gas hung in the air and they followed it obediently. They didn't know what they expected to happen when they caught up with Cornwall, but from Joseph's descriptions, it sounded like they'd have to wrestle him from these 'rebels', of which they have yet to gain sight of. Casper, Grissom and Timothy had their hunting knives if conflict should arise, and Casper was carrying a pistol for emergencies, so there was some level of preparation for the worst in their oversimplified plans. Find and retrieve Cornwall and head back to the ship. That was what they had to work with. They'd deal with the rebels when they came across them.
Then the walls widened out and the rebel camp came into view. They were all crudely installed tents and age old boats and salvaged scraps. And knives and guns and armours. The camp was illuminated by small fires that flickered a pale light about the little cavern, and then Grissom pulled the boat up against the little jetty by the rebel camp. Unlike the magnificent ice sculpted harbour of Dante's Hollow, the rebel camp just had a small jetty of old and rotting dead wood, lashed with frayed twine and fastened with nails corroding from years of exposure to the water. With the little purple light guiding them, they walked across the jetty, the stream of gas fast approaching an end. Cornwall was definitely somewhere here.
It seemed that no one was out around camp, and the four were able to follow the gas across the camp unseen. They probably didn't expect many visitors. And then the whiff of gas disappeared into a tent. Grissom couldn't see the gas exiting the tent, so they assumed he was inside. Grissom flicked off the torch and Casper pulled out his pistol. Casper went first. Through the canvas flap he met two of the rebels. The men saw Casper and jumped for their own guns that were slayed about the tent. Casper waved his own gun threateningly and trudged right into the tent and on top of the rebels caught unawares. Their skin was pure white, like that of the city, but they each had thick, black matted hair and nonsensical tattoos covering a heavy portion of their arms and chests. Casper kicked at the guns on the ground, sending them out of the rebels' reach. Grissom, Timothy and Joseph entered the tent, and while Casper kept the rebels still as stone statues Grissom went to the back corner of the tent and untied Cornwall and reinitiated his programming system. Timothy and Joseph grabbed the guns and joined Casper in the pointing. They left the camp without a word.
VIII
On the harbour Seth, Beatrix and Richmond waited. They searched for the little boat out on the lake, and of the familiar shap of Cornwall, but first sign of the return was of the ultra violet light. It was the only light they had to go by. They paddled forcefully, Timothy again at the whistle. Behind them there was more commotion. Another boat had followed them and the people on board didn't sound too pleasant. But as the boats came into sight the crew on the harbour saw that they had managed to steal away with Cornwall, and a couple of rifles, by the looks of it. When the boat was within shouting distance of the harbour, Casper began calling out to them.
There we go? There we go? The three tried to make sense of the words but nothing came.
As the boat drew nearer Casper yelled louder.
Jericho. Jericho.
The three of them climbed back on board and through to the cargo bay. They had no choice but to lower the ramp this time and they rolled the plane out into the water. Beatrix balanced her way down the tail fin to the cockpit where she sat at the controls. Seth followed, taking the seat behind her. Richmond balanced carefully on the tailfin as he flicked the ramp back up before sitting down next to Seth. There was a lot less room in the Jericho. Eight seats with no leg room.
Beatrix fired up the motor on the Jericho as the row boat bumped into the harbour alongside the Napoleon. Timothy's whistling stopped and the lake-sloughs set upon the rebels. There were three of them on the boat. All three fell beneath the surface like bricks, and their boat upturned in the whitewashed water and drove its sorry self into the harbour. The rebels never came back to the surface.
Grissom tied the boat off and lugged Cornwall out onto the harbour. They climbed into the remaining seats in the Jericho, Casper taking co-pilot again.
Do you think the ship'll be safe while we're gone? Seth asked.
Yeah. We've got the harbour well patrolled, you don't have to worry about the rebels when your ship's docked. Joseph said.
Good. Casper said. We can't afford to lose our supplies. We barely have enough to get by in the Jericho as it is. Coming back to an empty ship would be the end of the line.
It'll be fine. Really.
Ok. Beatrix said. Are you guys ready for take off?
They nodded.
Beatrix brought the Jericho out onto the lake, the motor rumbling noisily and sending ripples in the water out over the lake. She pulled up carefully and circled around passed the cave walls. The headlights perched on the plane's wings were set to high and they illuminated the white walls as they accellerated past. Beatrix passed around the lake, on a steady incline, the Jericho passed over Dante's Hollow and rounded out across the lake for a second passing. Higher and higher. They were several hundred metres above the lake's surface when the ceiling came into sight. Beatrix split in from the opposite side of the lake and headed out over the centre of the lake for the tunnel above the city. The gap was barely larger than the plane, but Beatrix was able to line everything up and slide into the tunnel with ease.
IX
It was very cramped in the Jericho. This fact was exaggerated by the thinness of the tunnel in which they were ripping through at faster-than-safe speeds. The tunnel twisted and turned, rose and dipped and broke out occasionally into wide chasms and caverns and lagoons. The ceiling of the ice shelf remained ever above them growing lighter and thinner as they went. The water that was splashed here and there below them changed from black to baby blue and sunlight could be seen through the ever thinning roof.
Then the ship came out into an enclosed lagoon far more expansive than the others gone by, and unlike the others, it appeared there was no more tunnel for the Jericho to pass through. There was enough natural light shining through the ice here that Beatrix no longer needed the lights. She circled the plane around through the massive natural ice pylons that propped the thin roof from the floor far below. The water in the lagoon was crystal clear and smooth as silk. And beneath the surface all sorts of exotic fishes darted about the lagoon aplenty.
Beatrix took the plane down onto the water and popped open the roof. The crew relished in sudden abundance of fresh cool air.
Where do we go from here? Beatrix asked.
Oh, yeah, I haven't been out here in a long time. Joseph said. But from what I recall, we'll need to open up the steel door. We'll need to swim.
Is there anything in the waters that we should be worried about? Asked Timothy.
No, there's only fish in here. It's safe. And with a reassuring nod, he dived into the cool water.
Seth dived in shortly after and began swimming out in pursuit. Then Beatrix, Timothy and Casper joined them. Grissom and Richmond were quite content remaining dry in the Jericho. And Cornwall wasn't programmed to swim. So the three in the cockpit just watched the others swim out away from the plane, diving down amongst the colourful fish and generally enjoying the fresh beauty of the lagoon. A sense of elation spread throughout the crew, a mood that had not passed by them yet since their initial send-off back in Berwick.
Joseph took a while remembering where the gate was. The group just casually followed him further along the lagoon while he scanned the white South wall for the large steel door. Seth and Beatrix casually helped him, not exactly what the door looked like, size and shape, and such, but it was Casper who found it after diving deep into the water.
Hey Joe. Casper said. There's something under the ice shelf in the water there. Anything familiar?
He swam over next to Joseph and led him into a dive, pointing towards a sort of mesh that ran along beneath the ice wall. When they re-emerged a light seemed to spark inside Joseph.
Yes, that's right. He said. The mesh, it's to keep the exotic fish from the outside. There's a little latch door that we can pass through to get outside. That's it. On the other side is the shore. From there we'll be able to find the steel door much easier. And there's the ladder up to it on the outside of the shelf. Can you hold your breath for long?
Casper nodded his head. The others ducked down to see how far they'd be swimming. The wall certainly wasn't thin, but Seth, Beatrix and Timothy nodded anyway. And before they knew it Joe dived down and had begun swimming through the wide submerged tunnel towards the mesh barrier. The four others floated around waiting for eachother to be the first to move. Casper took in a deep breath and kicked down. Joseph had already disappeared to the other side.
They entered the small tunnel, pushing slowly through the water. The ice roof was low enough to touch while sitting down. Timothy began to feel the claustrophobia. The walls were narrow and if they ran into danger there was no way of turning around. They were in this small tunnel until the end. They had left the lake-sloughs behind but Timothy still bit down on the whistle and breathed through it deeply, such that on occasions it would pitch out an audible squeal. They were just following glowing dust in rogue territory in prusuit of a pile of nuts and bolts. Sure, he did a good job on the ship, but Timothy hated being in a tight space where he had no control over things.
After some paddling, the ceiling began to rise as if they were paddling down through a hairline chasm. Black above, black below, the walls resonated purple from the light and the illuminated gas hung in the air and they followed it obediently. They didn't know what they expected to happen when they caught up with Cornwall, but from Joseph's descriptions, it sounded like they'd have to wrestle him from these 'rebels', of which they have yet to gain sight of. Casper, Grissom and Timothy had their hunting knives if conflict should arise, and Casper was carrying a pistol for emergencies, so there was some level of preparation for the worst in their oversimplified plans. Find and retrieve Cornwall and head back to the ship. That was what they had to work with. They'd deal with the rebels when they came across them.
Then the walls widened out and the rebel camp came into view. They were all crudely installed tents and age old boats and salvaged scraps. And knives and guns and armours. The camp was illuminated by small fires that flickered a pale light about the little cavern, and then Grissom pulled the boat up against the little jetty by the rebel camp. Unlike the magnificent ice sculpted harbour of Dante's Hollow, the rebel camp just had a small jetty of old and rotting dead wood, lashed with frayed twine and fastened with nails corroding from years of exposure to the water. With the little purple light guiding them, they walked across the jetty, the stream of gas fast approaching an end. Cornwall was definitely somewhere here.
It seemed that no one was out around camp, and the four were able to follow the gas across the camp unseen. They probably didn't expect many visitors. And then the whiff of gas disappeared into a tent. Grissom couldn't see the gas exiting the tent, so they assumed he was inside. Grissom flicked off the torch and Casper pulled out his pistol. Casper went first. Through the canvas flap he met two of the rebels. The men saw Casper and jumped for their own guns that were slayed about the tent. Casper waved his own gun threateningly and trudged right into the tent and on top of the rebels caught unawares. Their skin was pure white, like that of the city, but they each had thick, black matted hair and nonsensical tattoos covering a heavy portion of their arms and chests. Casper kicked at the guns on the ground, sending them out of the rebels' reach. Grissom, Timothy and Joseph entered the tent, and while Casper kept the rebels still as stone statues Grissom went to the back corner of the tent and untied Cornwall and reinitiated his programming system. Timothy and Joseph grabbed the guns and joined Casper in the pointing. They left the camp without a word.
VIII
On the harbour Seth, Beatrix and Richmond waited. They searched for the little boat out on the lake, and of the familiar shap of Cornwall, but first sign of the return was of the ultra violet light. It was the only light they had to go by. They paddled forcefully, Timothy again at the whistle. Behind them there was more commotion. Another boat had followed them and the people on board didn't sound too pleasant. But as the boats came into sight the crew on the harbour saw that they had managed to steal away with Cornwall, and a couple of rifles, by the looks of it. When the boat was within shouting distance of the harbour, Casper began calling out to them.
There we go? There we go? The three tried to make sense of the words but nothing came.
As the boat drew nearer Casper yelled louder.
Jericho. Jericho.
The three of them climbed back on board and through to the cargo bay. They had no choice but to lower the ramp this time and they rolled the plane out into the water. Beatrix balanced her way down the tail fin to the cockpit where she sat at the controls. Seth followed, taking the seat behind her. Richmond balanced carefully on the tailfin as he flicked the ramp back up before sitting down next to Seth. There was a lot less room in the Jericho. Eight seats with no leg room.
Beatrix fired up the motor on the Jericho as the row boat bumped into the harbour alongside the Napoleon. Timothy's whistling stopped and the lake-sloughs set upon the rebels. There were three of them on the boat. All three fell beneath the surface like bricks, and their boat upturned in the whitewashed water and drove its sorry self into the harbour. The rebels never came back to the surface.
Grissom tied the boat off and lugged Cornwall out onto the harbour. They climbed into the remaining seats in the Jericho, Casper taking co-pilot again.
Do you think the ship'll be safe while we're gone? Seth asked.
Yeah. We've got the harbour well patrolled, you don't have to worry about the rebels when your ship's docked. Joseph said.
Good. Casper said. We can't afford to lose our supplies. We barely have enough to get by in the Jericho as it is. Coming back to an empty ship would be the end of the line.
It'll be fine. Really.
Ok. Beatrix said. Are you guys ready for take off?
They nodded.
Beatrix brought the Jericho out onto the lake, the motor rumbling noisily and sending ripples in the water out over the lake. She pulled up carefully and circled around passed the cave walls. The headlights perched on the plane's wings were set to high and they illuminated the white walls as they accellerated past. Beatrix passed around the lake, on a steady incline, the Jericho passed over Dante's Hollow and rounded out across the lake for a second passing. Higher and higher. They were several hundred metres above the lake's surface when the ceiling came into sight. Beatrix split in from the opposite side of the lake and headed out over the centre of the lake for the tunnel above the city. The gap was barely larger than the plane, but Beatrix was able to line everything up and slide into the tunnel with ease.
IX
It was very cramped in the Jericho. This fact was exaggerated by the thinness of the tunnel in which they were ripping through at faster-than-safe speeds. The tunnel twisted and turned, rose and dipped and broke out occasionally into wide chasms and caverns and lagoons. The ceiling of the ice shelf remained ever above them growing lighter and thinner as they went. The water that was splashed here and there below them changed from black to baby blue and sunlight could be seen through the ever thinning roof.
Then the ship came out into an enclosed lagoon far more expansive than the others gone by, and unlike the others, it appeared there was no more tunnel for the Jericho to pass through. There was enough natural light shining through the ice here that Beatrix no longer needed the lights. She circled the plane around through the massive natural ice pylons that propped the thin roof from the floor far below. The water in the lagoon was crystal clear and smooth as silk. And beneath the surface all sorts of exotic fishes darted about the lagoon aplenty.
Beatrix took the plane down onto the water and popped open the roof. The crew relished in sudden abundance of fresh cool air.
Where do we go from here? Beatrix asked.
Oh, yeah, I haven't been out here in a long time. Joseph said. But from what I recall, we'll need to open up the steel door. We'll need to swim.
Is there anything in the waters that we should be worried about? Asked Timothy.
No, there's only fish in here. It's safe. And with a reassuring nod, he dived into the cool water.
Seth dived in shortly after and began swimming out in pursuit. Then Beatrix, Timothy and Casper joined them. Grissom and Richmond were quite content remaining dry in the Jericho. And Cornwall wasn't programmed to swim. So the three in the cockpit just watched the others swim out away from the plane, diving down amongst the colourful fish and generally enjoying the fresh beauty of the lagoon. A sense of elation spread throughout the crew, a mood that had not passed by them yet since their initial send-off back in Berwick.
Joseph took a while remembering where the gate was. The group just casually followed him further along the lagoon while he scanned the white South wall for the large steel door. Seth and Beatrix casually helped him, not exactly what the door looked like, size and shape, and such, but it was Casper who found it after diving deep into the water.
Hey Joe. Casper said. There's something under the ice shelf in the water there. Anything familiar?
He swam over next to Joseph and led him into a dive, pointing towards a sort of mesh that ran along beneath the ice wall. When they re-emerged a light seemed to spark inside Joseph.
Yes, that's right. He said. The mesh, it's to keep the exotic fish from the outside. There's a little latch door that we can pass through to get outside. That's it. On the other side is the shore. From there we'll be able to find the steel door much easier. And there's the ladder up to it on the outside of the shelf. Can you hold your breath for long?
Casper nodded his head. The others ducked down to see how far they'd be swimming. The wall certainly wasn't thin, but Seth, Beatrix and Timothy nodded anyway. And before they knew it Joe dived down and had begun swimming through the wide submerged tunnel towards the mesh barrier. The four others floated around waiting for eachother to be the first to move. Casper took in a deep breath and kicked down. Joseph had already disappeared to the other side.
In the Valley of the Tempest 4:4-6
IV
The walls, wide as they were, seemed to jut outwards to nothing. The ship pulled out into what appeared to be a vast black underground lake. And in the distance, there were lights scaling up the wall. Was this the end of the cave? Were these holes to the outside? The serpent dipped and curved in the waters, to which Casper and Beatrix were witnesses to.
Casper lifted from his seat. I'll go round up the others.
Sure. Beatrix replied. I'll just keep going forward.
Casper returned with Seth, Grissom and Cornwall close behind. Timothy and Richmond took a bit more convincing to rouse, and trailed in with a sense of sluggishness about themselves.
There's more than one serpent. Said Beatrix. This lake's full of them.
As the others came closer they saw she was right. Every few metres of lake was crawling with one of these creatures. They swam over the surface, they curled and ducked through the water, and their limbless bodies shined with a deep green that was almost beautiful. Their tails were massive and shapely, like that of a whale. They swam away from the ship as it cruised slowly by. The lights began to grow larger, and it wasn't long before they could make out what they were. Large torches glowing in the darkness, masive spheres perched atop giant pylons in a large city chiselled from out of the ice.
As they approached the city they saw that some of the buildings were sunk into the face of the wall, and ran all the way up the length of the wall to the barely visible ceiling. On the ground, however, there were buildings on streets just like any normal city, although the significant difference was that these buildings were made of ice. But what really got the crew's attention was at the front of the city, the elaborate boat harbour. Walkways of pure white running out along the water. Crystalline fishing boats shimmering by the streetlight, some of which were loaded up with these dead serpents.
Feeling they would be intruding if they docked the Napoleon XI in the harbour, Casper said they should probably set down the anchors a short way out from the city and take the boat in. Common courtesy told the crew that Casper was right, however there was a reluctance in taking the boat and paddles and rowing across the lake with the serpentine creature close at hand.
They entered the cargo bay from the internal door and used the boat launch through the ship's side (as opposed to the back ramp) to lower the boat into the lake. The serpents swam towards the boat and began snapping violently. It would be no good to simply jump in the boat and paddle away. The crew stood by the boat launch door, waiting for someone else to make the first move. Richmond disappeared into the main part of the ship. Casper followed shortly after. In the cargo bay, the crew began to shiver as the cold air crept in and hung around their skin and breath. They waited, growing colder and colder, and then Richmond was back with half a dozen hunting knives in his arms. He handed them out, until there were just his and Casper's in his hands. As an ease of journey, and to avoid potential complications, Cornwall remained on the ship. He stood amongst the group as they unsheathed their knives and inspected the blades. Then Casper came back with a small bag of powder. The crew moved back as he came in carrying the powder. He leaned out over the boat and spread it onto the boat and surrounding water. Ursula's tricks hadn't failed them so far, and here, they continued to provide. The beasts reeled back into the water and the crew climbed down into the boat one by one. Cornwall shut the boat launch door as they made their first paddles towards the city.
They rowed hurriedly, as they noticed the creatures eying the boat from just below the surface. It wasn't a large distance to cover, but if the powder should fail them, they'd be fish food. By the light of the looming city they rowed towards the harbour, the trail of powder in the water swirling and spreading about the boat. The serpents looked like they wanted to lunge, they looked menacing up close, all snapping jaws and whipping tails and slimy green bodies. Casper spread more of the powder about the lake as they passed through, each moment one of the creatures came too close to the boat for comfort.
They were 50 metres from the harbour. The powder ran to a trickle. The serpents pressed closer in around the boat. 40 metres. The crew were using their paddles to fend them off. 30 metres. They could see people on the harbour walking to and from the city, unconcerned with the monsters that threatened just outside their sanctioned harbour. 20 metres. One of the serpents lunged at the boat, smacking head long into the hull. The boat rocked and Richard slammed down his oar on the monster. 10 metres. More of them attacked. Water splashed violently and Richard and Seth drew their knives out. In the whitewash water flashes of gaping green shapes with rows of pointed pirhana teeth and orange-black eyes came aboard the boat. Teeth and arms and oars and knives. Five metres and someone on the harbour had spotted them. He was standing on the nearest jetty that came out from the harbour and he ran to the edge with what looked like a small tin tube in his mouth. The creatures backed off into the lake, reeling and writhing as if in pain, and the baot bumped up alongside the stranger. The man with the ultrasonic whistle.
V
The man helped them tie off the boat and walked them down the harbour into the city. Richmond had been bitten on the shoulder. He was able to carry himself fine, but he needed to be taken to the hospital. The crew offered their many thanks to the man, who seemed to just vanish the moment Richmond was seen to.
He had his wound cleaned and sealed up with stitches and bandage. For a city underneath a major ice shelf many kilometres from the open air and several hundred kilometres from the nearest recognised civilised city, it was remarkably modern in medicinal practice, and indeed with architecture and presumably with many other aspects of its society. When Richmond's injury was repaired they were greeted by a man who adressed himself as Lachlan Bradford, a member of the city council. He was required to learn more about the strange explorers and their intentions before they should be allowed to roam about the city upon their own.
They left the hospital under the guidance of Mr. Lachlan and navigated through the ice slicked streets towards the city chambers where he'd file an official report. They talked little on their walk, but the foreign explorers had a lot to take in. Some people passed down the streets on small sleds while others pushed along on skates. And others still climbed the walls to the inbuilt houses, using small divots in the ice as hand holds and foot holds.
The building they went into was towards the centre of the city, but the chambers themselves were underground (below city level, that is). He sat them down on cold steel chairs around a spotless steel table and took off his jacket. His skin was pale as the walls surrounding them.
He handed them each an official looking form to fill out.
So, gentlemen. And gentlelady. He said. What brings you to Dante's Hollow?
We're explorers. Casper said.
Just passing through then? Stopping for supplies? That sort of deal?
Passing through? You mean, we can get through to the other side from here?
To the South? Yeah. You've just got to follow the tunnel up above the houses in the wall there and after a few kilometres you'll come up on the surface of the ice-plate.
Thanks. Casper said. So how long can we stay in the city for?
Well that depends. What cash or items have you got to barter with?
We don't have much we can afford to give up, I'm afraid. We might have to just pass straight through.
That is unfortunate. It's very rare for foreigners to come through the city. We've got little to offer other than a safe passage between a rock and a hard place.
A rock and a hard place? What are you talking about.
Wait. Are you telling me you're explorers who don't know where you're going? Shit.
We have compass directions, but that's about it. Somewhere to the South, there's the magnetic mountains, and to the North is the ocean.
You came in over the ocean?
Yeah. Why?
Have you seen what's in that ocean?
No. Why?
Well, the lake-sloughs you passed on the way in are puppy dogs by comparison. You're lucky nothing snacked on your boat on the way in.
There was a storm out. Thick rain, wind, we didn't see anything on the surface, the weather probably turned them away.
What business have you got at the magnetic mountains, anyway?
Casper leaned in and said; Have you heard of the tempest?
Heard of it? Lachlan cried, hinting at irony. Sir, this city's history is written in the blood spilled by the hand of the tempest. You don't want tempest business up in the mountains there. You don't even want to talk or thing about tempest business around there.
Well then you know all the pain and the troubles that come from this cursed land. We've travelled over from beyond the ocean, beyond the great lakes and the swamp. From the city of Berwick, deaths at the hand of the tempest have started far earlier than normal. There's been a shift in the balance and we're here to discover why.
Cursed land? You're mistaken there, my friend. Only one cause for all of these misgivings throughout the valley.
What's that?
Not what. Who. His name is Arthur Porter, and he devotes to his chaos from atop his perch in the tallest mountain in the valley's south. If I can't dissuade you of your journey, it would do me no harm in informing you of what you'd be up against.
Thank you. Casper said.
All done with your forms? Lachlan asked.
The crew nodded, piled the sheets of paper on the desk and left back out into the streets of Dante's Hollow.
VI
The crew made their way back to the harbour, eager to press forward now that they had the necessary details to reach their goal. At the harbour they saw the man with the whistle again. He waved over towards them, which they returned. They walked out along the harbour to meet him, to where he had been washing away Richmond's blood which had stained the jetty by their boat.
How's that shoulder doing, Rich? He said.
Fine, thanks. Richmond responded.
Leaving already?
Yes. Casper said. Lots to do, and the quicker it's done the better.
Alright. Travel safe. Here, take this. He pulled from his pocket another tin whistle. It'll help you get back to your ship. Whereabouts are you headed anyway?
We need to go to the magnetic mountains. Some long unresolved issues. Casper replied.
You mean the tempest, right?
Yes.
Oh, if you were able to defeat the tempest, that'd be amazing. Do you think... can I... can I come with you?
It's dangerous out there.
I know. And I'm sure I know the way about these parts better than any of you. Y-you can even use my docking bay in the harbour while we're gone.
Casper considered his pitch for some time.
What was your name again? Casper asked.
Joseph Moss, sir.
I'd be glad to have you guiding my crew, Joe. Thanks.
They climbed into the boat and paddled out over to the Napoleon XI, the tin whistle blaring invisible sound out over the lake. The lake-sloughs kept their distance from the harsh ultrasonic noise. When they reached the ship the crew noticed that the boat launch door was left open.
What in the name of... Casper said, mostly to himself. As soon as the boat rocked up alongside the ship's door Casper leapt on board and ran through the ship.
Shit. He said. Cornwall's gone.
He jumped back onto the boat.
Have you seen anything, Joseph?
No. I was on the harbour the whole time and there was nothing out of the ordinary. Boats coming in, boats coming out. I suppose one could have stopped by your ship on their path. Could have been when we were headed to the hospital. Could have been a few minutes ago.
Ok. Beatrix, we should bring the ship into the harbour I think, and lock it up properly. We'll need to take the Jericho later. Seth, Richmond, could you two go with her please?
Beatrix, Seth and Richmond climbed back onto the ship and went into the cockpit to bring the ship in.
Joe. You know this city better than any of us. Do you know what anyone in this place would do with a stolen robot?
Joe shook his head. No, I'm afraid I wouldn't have a clue.
There are other ways to track down Cornwall, my friends. Grissom spoke up. When I built him I added a gas chamber set to slow release under situations such as this. The gas shows up in UV light. We just need to pick up the end of the trail and we should be able to chase him down.
Grissom pulled a small ultra-violet torch from his jacket and shined it around near the door of the boat launch. There it was, plain as day, hung in the air like a stream of fluorescent dust. Then the Napoleon XI began to move. Timothy had the whistle going, keeping the lake-sloughs at bay while Casper and Joseph paddled. Grissom knelt at the front of the boat, shining the light and calling the directions. The gas trail led out away from the city towards the East bank of the lake.
As the ship docked in the harbour, the paddle boat vanished in the darkness, with only the purple torch in the distance indicating its whereabouts. The boat followed the swift trail across the lake. And then Joseph realised whereabouts Cornwall had been taken.
Oh no. He said.
What? Casper asked.
He's been taken into the East tunnels. They're dangerous waters, where the rogues dwell.
The walls, wide as they were, seemed to jut outwards to nothing. The ship pulled out into what appeared to be a vast black underground lake. And in the distance, there were lights scaling up the wall. Was this the end of the cave? Were these holes to the outside? The serpent dipped and curved in the waters, to which Casper and Beatrix were witnesses to.
Casper lifted from his seat. I'll go round up the others.
Sure. Beatrix replied. I'll just keep going forward.
Casper returned with Seth, Grissom and Cornwall close behind. Timothy and Richmond took a bit more convincing to rouse, and trailed in with a sense of sluggishness about themselves.
There's more than one serpent. Said Beatrix. This lake's full of them.
As the others came closer they saw she was right. Every few metres of lake was crawling with one of these creatures. They swam over the surface, they curled and ducked through the water, and their limbless bodies shined with a deep green that was almost beautiful. Their tails were massive and shapely, like that of a whale. They swam away from the ship as it cruised slowly by. The lights began to grow larger, and it wasn't long before they could make out what they were. Large torches glowing in the darkness, masive spheres perched atop giant pylons in a large city chiselled from out of the ice.
As they approached the city they saw that some of the buildings were sunk into the face of the wall, and ran all the way up the length of the wall to the barely visible ceiling. On the ground, however, there were buildings on streets just like any normal city, although the significant difference was that these buildings were made of ice. But what really got the crew's attention was at the front of the city, the elaborate boat harbour. Walkways of pure white running out along the water. Crystalline fishing boats shimmering by the streetlight, some of which were loaded up with these dead serpents.
Feeling they would be intruding if they docked the Napoleon XI in the harbour, Casper said they should probably set down the anchors a short way out from the city and take the boat in. Common courtesy told the crew that Casper was right, however there was a reluctance in taking the boat and paddles and rowing across the lake with the serpentine creature close at hand.
They entered the cargo bay from the internal door and used the boat launch through the ship's side (as opposed to the back ramp) to lower the boat into the lake. The serpents swam towards the boat and began snapping violently. It would be no good to simply jump in the boat and paddle away. The crew stood by the boat launch door, waiting for someone else to make the first move. Richmond disappeared into the main part of the ship. Casper followed shortly after. In the cargo bay, the crew began to shiver as the cold air crept in and hung around their skin and breath. They waited, growing colder and colder, and then Richmond was back with half a dozen hunting knives in his arms. He handed them out, until there were just his and Casper's in his hands. As an ease of journey, and to avoid potential complications, Cornwall remained on the ship. He stood amongst the group as they unsheathed their knives and inspected the blades. Then Casper came back with a small bag of powder. The crew moved back as he came in carrying the powder. He leaned out over the boat and spread it onto the boat and surrounding water. Ursula's tricks hadn't failed them so far, and here, they continued to provide. The beasts reeled back into the water and the crew climbed down into the boat one by one. Cornwall shut the boat launch door as they made their first paddles towards the city.
They rowed hurriedly, as they noticed the creatures eying the boat from just below the surface. It wasn't a large distance to cover, but if the powder should fail them, they'd be fish food. By the light of the looming city they rowed towards the harbour, the trail of powder in the water swirling and spreading about the boat. The serpents looked like they wanted to lunge, they looked menacing up close, all snapping jaws and whipping tails and slimy green bodies. Casper spread more of the powder about the lake as they passed through, each moment one of the creatures came too close to the boat for comfort.
They were 50 metres from the harbour. The powder ran to a trickle. The serpents pressed closer in around the boat. 40 metres. The crew were using their paddles to fend them off. 30 metres. They could see people on the harbour walking to and from the city, unconcerned with the monsters that threatened just outside their sanctioned harbour. 20 metres. One of the serpents lunged at the boat, smacking head long into the hull. The boat rocked and Richard slammed down his oar on the monster. 10 metres. More of them attacked. Water splashed violently and Richard and Seth drew their knives out. In the whitewash water flashes of gaping green shapes with rows of pointed pirhana teeth and orange-black eyes came aboard the boat. Teeth and arms and oars and knives. Five metres and someone on the harbour had spotted them. He was standing on the nearest jetty that came out from the harbour and he ran to the edge with what looked like a small tin tube in his mouth. The creatures backed off into the lake, reeling and writhing as if in pain, and the baot bumped up alongside the stranger. The man with the ultrasonic whistle.
V
The man helped them tie off the boat and walked them down the harbour into the city. Richmond had been bitten on the shoulder. He was able to carry himself fine, but he needed to be taken to the hospital. The crew offered their many thanks to the man, who seemed to just vanish the moment Richmond was seen to.
He had his wound cleaned and sealed up with stitches and bandage. For a city underneath a major ice shelf many kilometres from the open air and several hundred kilometres from the nearest recognised civilised city, it was remarkably modern in medicinal practice, and indeed with architecture and presumably with many other aspects of its society. When Richmond's injury was repaired they were greeted by a man who adressed himself as Lachlan Bradford, a member of the city council. He was required to learn more about the strange explorers and their intentions before they should be allowed to roam about the city upon their own.
They left the hospital under the guidance of Mr. Lachlan and navigated through the ice slicked streets towards the city chambers where he'd file an official report. They talked little on their walk, but the foreign explorers had a lot to take in. Some people passed down the streets on small sleds while others pushed along on skates. And others still climbed the walls to the inbuilt houses, using small divots in the ice as hand holds and foot holds.
The building they went into was towards the centre of the city, but the chambers themselves were underground (below city level, that is). He sat them down on cold steel chairs around a spotless steel table and took off his jacket. His skin was pale as the walls surrounding them.
He handed them each an official looking form to fill out.
So, gentlemen. And gentlelady. He said. What brings you to Dante's Hollow?
We're explorers. Casper said.
Just passing through then? Stopping for supplies? That sort of deal?
Passing through? You mean, we can get through to the other side from here?
To the South? Yeah. You've just got to follow the tunnel up above the houses in the wall there and after a few kilometres you'll come up on the surface of the ice-plate.
Thanks. Casper said. So how long can we stay in the city for?
Well that depends. What cash or items have you got to barter with?
We don't have much we can afford to give up, I'm afraid. We might have to just pass straight through.
That is unfortunate. It's very rare for foreigners to come through the city. We've got little to offer other than a safe passage between a rock and a hard place.
A rock and a hard place? What are you talking about.
Wait. Are you telling me you're explorers who don't know where you're going? Shit.
We have compass directions, but that's about it. Somewhere to the South, there's the magnetic mountains, and to the North is the ocean.
You came in over the ocean?
Yeah. Why?
Have you seen what's in that ocean?
No. Why?
Well, the lake-sloughs you passed on the way in are puppy dogs by comparison. You're lucky nothing snacked on your boat on the way in.
There was a storm out. Thick rain, wind, we didn't see anything on the surface, the weather probably turned them away.
What business have you got at the magnetic mountains, anyway?
Casper leaned in and said; Have you heard of the tempest?
Heard of it? Lachlan cried, hinting at irony. Sir, this city's history is written in the blood spilled by the hand of the tempest. You don't want tempest business up in the mountains there. You don't even want to talk or thing about tempest business around there.
Well then you know all the pain and the troubles that come from this cursed land. We've travelled over from beyond the ocean, beyond the great lakes and the swamp. From the city of Berwick, deaths at the hand of the tempest have started far earlier than normal. There's been a shift in the balance and we're here to discover why.
Cursed land? You're mistaken there, my friend. Only one cause for all of these misgivings throughout the valley.
What's that?
Not what. Who. His name is Arthur Porter, and he devotes to his chaos from atop his perch in the tallest mountain in the valley's south. If I can't dissuade you of your journey, it would do me no harm in informing you of what you'd be up against.
Thank you. Casper said.
All done with your forms? Lachlan asked.
The crew nodded, piled the sheets of paper on the desk and left back out into the streets of Dante's Hollow.
VI
The crew made their way back to the harbour, eager to press forward now that they had the necessary details to reach their goal. At the harbour they saw the man with the whistle again. He waved over towards them, which they returned. They walked out along the harbour to meet him, to where he had been washing away Richmond's blood which had stained the jetty by their boat.
How's that shoulder doing, Rich? He said.
Fine, thanks. Richmond responded.
Leaving already?
Yes. Casper said. Lots to do, and the quicker it's done the better.
Alright. Travel safe. Here, take this. He pulled from his pocket another tin whistle. It'll help you get back to your ship. Whereabouts are you headed anyway?
We need to go to the magnetic mountains. Some long unresolved issues. Casper replied.
You mean the tempest, right?
Yes.
Oh, if you were able to defeat the tempest, that'd be amazing. Do you think... can I... can I come with you?
It's dangerous out there.
I know. And I'm sure I know the way about these parts better than any of you. Y-you can even use my docking bay in the harbour while we're gone.
Casper considered his pitch for some time.
What was your name again? Casper asked.
Joseph Moss, sir.
I'd be glad to have you guiding my crew, Joe. Thanks.
They climbed into the boat and paddled out over to the Napoleon XI, the tin whistle blaring invisible sound out over the lake. The lake-sloughs kept their distance from the harsh ultrasonic noise. When they reached the ship the crew noticed that the boat launch door was left open.
What in the name of... Casper said, mostly to himself. As soon as the boat rocked up alongside the ship's door Casper leapt on board and ran through the ship.
Shit. He said. Cornwall's gone.
He jumped back onto the boat.
Have you seen anything, Joseph?
No. I was on the harbour the whole time and there was nothing out of the ordinary. Boats coming in, boats coming out. I suppose one could have stopped by your ship on their path. Could have been when we were headed to the hospital. Could have been a few minutes ago.
Ok. Beatrix, we should bring the ship into the harbour I think, and lock it up properly. We'll need to take the Jericho later. Seth, Richmond, could you two go with her please?
Beatrix, Seth and Richmond climbed back onto the ship and went into the cockpit to bring the ship in.
Joe. You know this city better than any of us. Do you know what anyone in this place would do with a stolen robot?
Joe shook his head. No, I'm afraid I wouldn't have a clue.
There are other ways to track down Cornwall, my friends. Grissom spoke up. When I built him I added a gas chamber set to slow release under situations such as this. The gas shows up in UV light. We just need to pick up the end of the trail and we should be able to chase him down.
Grissom pulled a small ultra-violet torch from his jacket and shined it around near the door of the boat launch. There it was, plain as day, hung in the air like a stream of fluorescent dust. Then the Napoleon XI began to move. Timothy had the whistle going, keeping the lake-sloughs at bay while Casper and Joseph paddled. Grissom knelt at the front of the boat, shining the light and calling the directions. The gas trail led out away from the city towards the East bank of the lake.
As the ship docked in the harbour, the paddle boat vanished in the darkness, with only the purple torch in the distance indicating its whereabouts. The boat followed the swift trail across the lake. And then Joseph realised whereabouts Cornwall had been taken.
Oh no. He said.
What? Casper asked.
He's been taken into the East tunnels. They're dangerous waters, where the rogues dwell.
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