Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure (29 page)

BOOK: Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure
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Sigmund watched as a war machine took a direct hit and staggered back as if it was a man taking a punch. But it did not go down. It took a step forward and started firing its shoulder cannons again as if nothing happened. The armor of those things must be incredibly thick, thought Sigmund, how else could it not be devastated?

 

The factory wall kept reducing from the constant attacks. Large gaps were starting to form. More of the machines could be seen. With great unease, Sigmund saw that the arms of the machines also had cannons on them, smaller than the shoulder mounted ones, but still significant. Then he saw one of the machines raised both of its arms in front of it and started to fire these cannons along with the shoulder’s. As Sigmund reassessed Sir Bradford’s army, he concluded that they were taking a lot more damage than they were giving.

 

The arrival of the police force, led by Holmes, did little to change things. Their weapons were no more than handguns and rifles – nearly useless in the current battle. Their biggest assistance came from manning some of the cannons for fallen soldiers.

 

Sir Bradford was running around and giving orders, desperately trying strategies to overcome the opposition. Mills ran over to Sigmund and said, “Sir Bradford wants to focus our fire on one machine. Tell all the cannons to shoot only at the far right machine until it is down.”

 

Sigmund didn’t take time to reply but ran down the line to the nearest cannon. It fired as he approached and he nearly fell from the percussion. The men didn’t look at him when he drew near, they were completely focused on emptying the used shell and putting in a new one as quickly as possible. Sigmund had to grab the shoulder of one of them and yell the instructions to him. Once he got a nod, Sigmund raced off to the next one and on down the line. He could hear bullets whizzing by him. He wondered if he was the target or if it was a stray – he concluded it didn’t matter, the bullet would kill him either way.

 

When he got back to Mills, he nodded, signaling that the message was delivered. Gestures were a better way to communicate than trying to yell over the battle.

 

Sigmund focused on the machine on the far right to see if this strategy would be effective. It was clear that the cannons were aiming that way as the explosions focused on that area, further smashing the wall and rocking the machine. It staggered back as it was hit over and over and finally toppled over not to get up again. The soldiers and police let up a cheer. One down!

 

Sigmund’s joy was short lived as the other seven machines were still firing and wreaking havoc against Sir Bradford’s army. Most of the armored vehicles were burning hulls, little left to give protection. At least half of the cannons were gone, and dead men littered the line.

 

Sigmund looked at Sir Bradford. The man was still directing his men. He had blood on his face and was covered in dirt. It didn’t faze him. He kept leading. Sigmund watched as Sir Bradford looked away from the battle – something suddenly grabbing his attention – and saw his countenance fall. This stoic man, the uncompromising leader, looked defeated. Sigmund followed his gaze and saw any spark of hope he had completely dashed as if with a lake of water. Approaching the army from behind were more war machines.

 

They were surrounded.

28.

 

 

Sigmund stared at the approaching machines with dread. It seemed unlikely that they could defeat the machines at the factory, but there was no way they could defeat these as well. It would be a slaughter.

 

Although it hardly mattered, Sigmund noticed that these machines were of a different design from the ones they had been facing. These ran on large wheels, not legs, had a torso with shoulder mounted cannons, and arms that were cannons – no hands, or elbow joints. It gave the impression of an earlier design than the fully limbed versions at the factory. There were six of these newly arrived machines and they rolled forward, black smoke and sparks billowing out behind them.

 

Sigmund couldn’t take his eyes off of them. He had no place to hide and wondered what it would feel like to die. A few more seconds passed before the rolling machines fired. At first Sigmund thought it was simply a terrible shot as the resulting explosions tore into the factory walls. It was with the second salvo that Sigmund started to realize that these rolling machines were firing at the factory, not Sir Bradford’s army. He shared a look with Mills, neither man understanding who these new arrivals were, but they couldn’t find it in them to care very much at the moment, as long as they kept firing at the factory.

 

Two of the factory machines went down almost simultaneously. There was a small cheer from the army – small, both from not wanting to be too premature and from reduced numbers. The tide of the battle was turning. What seemed like certain defeat was now becoming an even battle. These new machines seemed to have the advantage as the factory vehicles slowed in their pace of fire. Sigmund could see men running below the vehicles with cannon shells, desperately trying to keep them loaded with ammunition but unable to keep up.

 

One of the rolling machines took a direct hit and toppled over. In seeming revenge, the factory machine that fired the killing blow exploded soon after from a concentrated volley. There were now five fresh rolling war machines and a few of the armies original cannons against four battered factory machines.

 

The thunderous sounds of cannon fire continued to bathe the battle in a sound that not only could be heard, but also felt. Sigmund gave up on hearing ever again, wondering how any soldier who has seen battle could recover from it. The smell of expended gunpowder and smoke burned his nose but was not completely unpleasant.

 

Mills waved for Sigmund to follow him and started to run towards the fallen rolling machine. When Sigmund caught up, Mills was pulling at a hatch that was on the upper back of the large machine, but reachable as the machine landed on its side. The explosions or the fall to ground had wedged the door shut. Both men winced as a few bullets kicked up dirt near their position. Mills ignored this and kept pulling. As Mills kept on the hatch, Sigmund started to look around and found a rod-like piece of shrapnel. He moved Mills aside and wedged it into a crevice between the door and the hull and he and Mills pulled hard.  Slowly they were able to crack open the hatch. It still took both of them to pull it all the way open as the hinges were severely damaged. An explosion to their right sent them to their stomachs. Recovered, they looked inside the hatch and found a small area that held controls, buttons, levers, foot pedals and a seat with a man slumped over. At first glance the driver of the machine looked dead, blood on his face and clothes and not moving. Mills reached in and put his hands under the man’s arms and pulled him out. As the man’s torso passed through the hatch, Sigmund grabbed his legs to help. The battle raged in the background, bullets whizzing, explosions shaking the earth around them. When the machine driver lifted his arm, Sigmund almost let go from surprise. The man was alive! They carried him several yards away and laid him carefully on a patch of grass, somewhat protected by his own fallen machine.

 

Mills lightly patted the man’s face and asked in a loud voice, “Who are you?”

 

The man stirred a little, blinked his eyes but did not answer. Again Mills asked, “Please, tell us who you are.”

 

The man coughed weekly and managed to say in a raspy voice, “Alvin… I’m with the… Coal Union.”

 

Sigmund and Mills stared at each other in shock. Their eyes searched for answers that neither of them had. Mills turned back to the man and asked, “Why are you here?”

 

The man was losing strength, but managed, “Stop Grimkraken… Stop the cube…” then he lost consciousness. Mills had been leaning over the man but now sat back in the grass completely flabbergasted. Sigmund stood up wondering what took so long for the Coal Union to show their hand.

 

Both men were shaken from their thoughts by a particularly loud explosion. They looked over as one of the rolling machines blew apart. They figured that one of its weapon magazines must have been hit. Another of the rolling machines was not moving, its wheels were destroyed, but it kept firing from its spot. The other three were showing signs of the battle but still attacking strong. The factory wall was rubble and the factory machines were showing heavy damage. The men that had been visible near the factory were no longer around, having retreated inside. It looked as if the battle may be over soon.

 

As the cannons continued, there was a new feeling that shook the bones. Sigmund didn’t pay much attention at first – what was another feeling at this point? But the intensity of the feeling grew and when he looked over at Mills, he could tell that he was feeling it too. Unlike the cannon fire with its impressive, but short-lived boom, this new sensation was a consistent thrum.

 

Sigmund looked all around, the army, the wall, the factory itself, looking for the source – nothing. He didn’t like this sensation and grew almost desperate to know what it was or how to stop it. He kept looking about and then noticed some men pointing towards the factory. Sigmund looked as well and didn’t see anything at first, but then noticed that the back half of the roof was opening like a two pedaled flower. A feeling of dread came over him as he figured this could only be bad.

 

In a day of firsts for Sigmund, he wouldn’t have believed that the most significant of them all was still in front of him in the form of what was rising from the back of the factory. As just the top of this new vehicle became visible, Sigmund’s first impression was that it was a strangely designed dirigible. It was quite large, maybe a hundred and fifty yards in length, and appeared to be floating upwards. As it continued to rise, it became very evident that it was the source of the thrumming sound. As the full vehicle passed the top of the factory, Sigmund started to understand what he was seeing – the impossible. It was not a dirigible. What Sigmund had thought was the balloon was actually the hull of the vehicle – it looked like two navy battleships had been attached to either side of a large armored cabin. It reminded Sigmund of a catamaran boat. Where the two ships came to a point, a large sphere sat between them. Out of the sphere was a ridged tube. At several spots along the side of the heavily armored hull were cannons. But its source of lift was what Sigmund noticed the most – it had no balloon, instead it had eight giant propellers on top of this flying battleship. It was a heavier than air craft. Heavier than air ships had been theorized and modeled for years but were never produced due to the restrictions and weight of a coal engine. But powered by amalgam cubes could made it possible – did make it possible. Towards the back of the ship were two more propellers, but mounted to the side, like you would see on a dirigible to propel it forward.

 

Part of Sigmund felt a great joy to see this sight, it was like looking at a dream. Like suddenly anything was possible, for man could now fly unlike ever before. The vehicle continued to rise and slowly the ridged tube extended out of the sphere. The sphere rotated like an eye and pointed at Sir Bradford’s army. All thoughts of joy perished as this tube, this cannon, fired and the Coal Union machine that was unable to move exploded violently. Whatever that cannon was, it was devastatingly powerful. Several seconds went by and the cannon fired again – another rolling machine exploded.

 

Sir Bradford’s army continued to watch as this flying battleship gained elevation and reigned down impossibly destructive shots from its front cannon.

 

Sigmund jumped in surprise when something landed on his shoulder. He didn’t want to take his eyes off of the flying machine so he only gave a quick glanced back and found that Zachary had arrived. Turning all the way around, it took Sigmund a moment for it to register that Richard Sutton was standing behind him.

 

Sigmund turned back to the flying ship and asked in a loud voice, “Did you design that?”

 

Sigmund couldn’t see Sutton shake his head. The engineer in Sutton was in complete awe of what he was seeing. Sigmund, figuring his hearing was pretty well gone, turned to Sutton, pointed at the flying ship, and then gave a single nod of his head to indicate ownership. Again Sutton shook his head.

 

Without taking his eyes off of it, Sutton said, “I can’t believe they did it.” Another round from the cannon tore up the earth several yards from the two of them, knocking them both down.

 

“What
is
that?” screamed Sigmund.

 

“A Gauss cannon.”

 

“A what?”

 

“A Gauss cannon. A scientist named Carl Friedrich Gauss designed a way to accelerate a projectile by the use of magnets. In theory, it could propel an object many times faster than any conventional cannon. It probably doesn’t even have explosives as the mass and speed of the projectile would produce enough damage to make explosives redundant.”

 

Sigmund didn’t really understand all that was being told to him but he did understand what he was seeing – this new cannon was indefensible.

 

Realizing that Sutton had an important assignment, Sigmund asked, “Were you able to get through to the Royals?”

 

Sutton didn’t answer right away but pointed to the western sky.

 

Sigmund looked in that direction and spotted several small things above the horizon. The form of these objects were familiar – dirigibles.

 

Sutton then said, “I did. They are sending the Royal Air Force.”

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