For the Love of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 3) (9 page)

Crickets chirp in the early summer air.

“I say, by my estimation, our world’s governments have proven themselves to be out of their depth on this one, eh, hem?”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am.”

“Then as I see it, when governments of the world fail their citizens, it is up to the citizens of the world to save their governments.”

“What would you have us do, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something, Mr. Temperance, I say, sir, the world and I are quite counting on you.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Forsooth, good Sir Knight, but I cannot say that I am overly impressed by your warring presence. No offense intended. Far from it, I am warmed by your kind manners, but alas, these times call for brave and daring deeds. You are a nice young man, but alas, no more imposing than a glass of milk.”

“Funny thing about a glass of milk, Sir Paul, you can’t see inside it. There might be a scorpion in there, unseen and ready to surprise you. I may not look like much, but I’ll pull my end of the load, don’t you worry.”

Sir Paul gives me a quick re-evaluation.

~snort~
“Perhaps, young man, we shall see. Valuria, do you think we can take a brief sabbatical from our pressing schedule to save planet Earth?”

“It might not be a bad idea, Sir Paul, since most of our best engagements are there.”

An invisible wave passes over the strongly built man. A shudder almost imperceptibly jolts through his frame. Somehow, he convinces our imagination to believe that the immediate surroundings have gone dark, and a circular spot of light has fallen across him, suffusing him in a bluish white light.

“Cursèd Invader!” Sir Paul shouts. Drawing himself up to his full and remarkable height, he defiantly shakes a fist at Mankind’s hated foe. “We shall never bow to your tyranny! Resist! Resist! You cannot stay our noble species.”

This is delivered in a strong and defiant manner, but then, a crashing wave of despondency smashes against his noble features. His head bows. His bones appear to evaporate from his spent frame as he collapses to his knees. Shockingly, only a puddle of man survives where greatness stood a moment ago.

“Hopeless is our poor planet’s fate. Despair is our only option. Woe and misfortune are all that remains for our beaten race.”

He is the very picture of a defeated man.

Suddenly, he snaps up. He is kneeling and looking up into the Sun.

“Nay, my brothers and sisters, ‘tis not, I mean, ‘tis naughtte for me to cast aside the only species I have ever known. Nay, though I walk through the valley of mechanical mayhem from Mars, I shall naughtte be afraid, for I have vowed to purge this planet of unclean contamination. Invader, beware!”

The poor fellow seems so distraught that I go to assist him.

“Nay, good sir knight,” he says stretching his arm out at me in a gesture to stay my course. He hides his face, bending his head to be covered by his other forearm. “I am beyond your meager condolences. ‘Tis the fate of our very planet’s sovereignty at stake, man. This is serious!”

Leaping to his feet, he grabs me with one arm around both my shoulders. Double my weight and standing a foot taller than me, this thickly built thespian crushes me to him, as he looks out to an imaginary audience.

“Fear naughtte, dear Ichabod, for you have gained a powerful ally. Earth’s mightiest defender has taken up the challenge of our enemy. Mars faces the fury of Sir Paul Whitmore.”

The three ladies raise their eyebrows and nod appreciatively.

“I am inclined to think that it will be the efforts of individuals such as we that shall save our imperiled planet!” Miss Plumtartt injects. “Furthermore, I sense a desire within all present to assist in any way possible.”

“Oh, yes, I should really like to do all that I could in any way I can.” Valuria nods and smiles enthusiastically.

“I’ve not had much experience in slaying many opponents in battle,” Clarabelle Nightingale confesses. “The truth is, I carefully carry insects safely outside rather than squash them, and cannot bait my own fishing line with squirmy worms. Instead, I settle for less alluring wads of fresh bread, but I shall surely attempt to pull my ‘end of the load’ as Ichabod describes his contribution to the fight. I volunteer for the battle to rid our World from this plague of interplanetary bloodthirsty villains!”

“Me too, Miss Nightingale, Ma’am!”

“Hear, hear!”

“Oh, well, we, the WickeThimble players are officially on the bill!”

“Roof!”

“Verily, and with Bolt chiming in we are of a single mind. All but one treacherous hold-out. Curse you, Horatio! Come now, we have a world to save!”

“Maybe I can help, Sir Paul. I’ll tie this here carrot to the end of a long stick and dangle the tempting vegetable in front of him. Come on, Horatio, don’t you want the yummy carrot? Gee, he really is stubborn, ain’t he? Well, if don’t want it, I’ll eat it.”

“Lead by example, that’s the way! Verily, no donkey is going to make an ass out of me!”

Horatio casts a baleful glance at Paul’s delivery.

“Everyone’s a critic!”

“Bolt, do you think you could convince Horatio to be more cooperative?”

Bolt gives the mule a stern look.

“
Eee-
yaungh!”

Horatio is up like he was stung by a yellow-jacket.

The mule trots forward and backs himself into the wagon traces as Sir Paul quickly gets out of the beast’s way.

“Roof!”

“He’s a really smart dog, y‘all!”

“I say, Mr. Temperance, these smoldering ruins that litter the path of our adversary are a helpful clue in following his trail, eh hem?”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am. For two days we have tracked these twin marauders, but we ain’t laid eyes on ‘em yet. They are always on an Easterly course, though, Miss Plumtartt.”

“Indeed, Mr. Temperance. It is my belief that we passed from the State of Alabama and into Georgia some time ago, would you not agree?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I say, as we steam our way up this incline, I see small groups of people along the ridge. They are standing behind cover, and are making excited gestures to one another in response to their observations.”

“Yes, Ma’am, by their watchfulness, it looks like they can see the walkers. I’m gonna park the steamer so we can take a look.”

“Eh, hem yes, but if I may suggest, as the liability of the steel conveyance of our ‘Charlie’ is so dangerous to travel in while in visual range of the monsters, perhaps it would be prudent to rest the vehicle behind one of the many rock outcroppings. A screened position for our three wheeler lorrie is easily afforded.”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt. That’s a good idea, Ma’am.”

“I suspect that we will be close enough to see that famous Georgian city you spoke of, Mr. Temperance.”

“Yes, Ma’am, let’s go over and speak to some people to find out.”

“Excuse me folk, y’all need to wrap those eyepieces, and be ready to drop them in an instant! Though we are easily several miles from the behemoths, I do not hold that those metal dissolving beams weaken by distance.”

“Thanks, mister, but we’re already wise to these boys’ tricks.”

“Pardon me, Ma’am, can you give us a rundown on what preparations have been made up ahead?”

“Yes, sir, I can. My name is Bobbye, and this is my son Henry. In the few days that she has had to prepare, this city has done all she could to be ready when these monsters came a’ knockin’. This city has burned once before in relatively recent memory. Her citizenry is hard pressed determined not to let it happen again. The webbing of electric wires that energize many electricity-based devices have been stripped away. So too have the telegraph and teletalker lines. Railroad and trolley rails have been pulled up. Metal hardware has been removed from homes. Door handles, hinges, and other metal hardware have been carefully removed from houses.  As much as possible, nails have been removed. Holes have been drilled into strategic points of houses to be replaced with wooden pegs in an effort to maintain the structure’s viability. Preparations have also been made to fight the coming fires by having homes laid up with pitchers of water, buckets of sand and wet towels and blankets. The occupants of these houses and stores are in a fire-fighting mood. I’ll let Henry tell you about the armaments that have been prepared to greet these unwanted visitors.”

“Without the ability to use metal, the defenders have been forced to take a new look at some old weapons. Catapults have been quickly constructed. In fact, this community has gone on a catapult building crusade.”

“Tell them about the trebuchete, Henry.”

“Okay, Mom. A few of the more adventurous town folk have built complicated trebuchete launching systems. They are like catapults, but with a sling on the end that generates unusual velocity from the outrageous torque that comes from the radical ratios involved.”

“Gosh!”

“Projectiles have been quarried from nearby Stone Mountain, on the other side of the city.”

“It has been observed that the metal melting beams do not penetrate stone or brick. Nor do they make their way through heavy concentrations of Earth, though they pass through wooden structures like air, melting metals and wreaking havoc.”

“With that in mind, cannon emplacements are now concealed behind brick and stone walls. They are prepared in such a way that they are only open to retaliatory strike for a brief moment. Heavy berms protect other cannon and mortar emplacements.”

Henry’s young features take a serious bearing as he imparts these last prophetic words:

“The city of Atlanta will fight these invaders.”

---

Wrapping the brass optical device in heavy cloth, I utilize my telescope. I can see the two leviathans. The purple rays of their metal distressing beams are invisible in the daylight, but the air can be seen to shimmer in its passes. There is a singular, wave-like distortion extending in a cone shaped pattern from the lighted rods atop the war-walkers.

The three-legged invaders seek entry to the besieged city.

“Let’s get in there and see what we can do, folks!” I call to my new Martian-defying mates.

Sir Paul stands high and proud on the bench of his wagon.

“Tremble at my approach, you fiends!” bellows the mighty actor. Or
is
he acting? He is certainly convincing as the very embodiment of a warrior/king. His eyes flash in furious intent. His stance and bearing convey his strength and vitality. This is a character of myth and legend. Sir Paul is an irresistible force, radiating an aura of leadership that inspires men to follow him into the worst of circumstances.

A powerful brow is knotted under his long hair.

Nostrils flare beneath his noble nose.

The neatly trimmed beard clinging to his angular jaw accents his dreadfully handsome features all the more.

The dedicated actor is ready to go Mano a Martian.

A rumble rises from within.

“Paul cometh.”

“I say, let us fly to catch up with the action, Mr. Temperance. It is a downhill grade into Atlanta from her Western approach and we should make good time catching up to the mechanical horrors.”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, but as we are in a steel carriage, I don’t want us to get caught in an errant beam. We better plot our course of approach accordingly. I choose a Southern road of entrance. To the best of my ability, I’m gonna try to keep hills and stands of trees between us and the monsters on the hope that the rays might be absorbed should they swing our way.”

“I say, the Martians, upon their entry into Atlanta, are encountering heavy resistance from an unwelcoming host. Several good, solid, hits of rock and shot have had the effect of momentarily discombobulating the beasts. The preparations of carefully removing all metals from the rays’ searching reach have worked, by Jove! Good show, I say, hear, hear!”

“Yes, Ma’am, but since their metal wrecking beams ain’t proving effective, these boys are moving to the North-East to try from another vantage point.”

“Let us go to where we may be of the greatest assistance, Mr. Temperance. I see that our traveling thespians are still close behind.”

“I’m trying to keep us protected, but be ready to abandon ship at any moment. Those beams are now swinging our way sometimes, and I can’t always keep us in the shelter of a building. This steamer will be turned to butter at the touch of that beam.”

“Understood, Mr. Temperance.”

“There appears to be a weak spot in the city’s defenses from the North, Ma’am. All of the defenses were built to the West, to stop the advance, but now the towers have found a forgotten spot in Atlanta’s preparations.”

“Oh, I say! One of the towers stumbles, Mr. Temperance! It has stepped into a hidden hole! This was a clever trap laid by the Atlanteans! Much like a large pit covered with branches is used to catch a bear, boar, or tiger, so too have these defenders dug a hole and then covered it to trip the tripod. This is quite the daring and brilliant stratagem, Mr. Temperance! Good show! I say!”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt Ma’am! Now look!Heretofore hidden emplacements are now uncovered. Catapult and cannon fire is getting heaped upon the fallen monster and his pal.”

”Mr. Temperance, the standing creature is extending its mechanical tentacles to assist his recumbent companion.”

“Ah, I hate to see that, Ma’am. The one has helped the other back to a standing position. I thought we were onto something when we had one of ‘em down for a second.”

“I say, look there! The upper shelf of the stacked saucers is peeling backwards!”

“There he is, Miss Plumtartt! The Martian is standing where all can see him! There are screams from men and women all around us as the terrible, three-eyed monster looks down on us!”

“Quite so, Mr. Temperance. Until now, you and I are probably the only people to see the monster and live to tell the tale; however, a great portion of Atlanta now lays claim to that dubious honour.”

“Everyone is mesmerized by the sight, Miss Plumtartt. Especially our friend Valuria. She is staring wide-eyed at the horrible vision. The terrible sight of its three arms and three eyes have her completely captivated.”

“I say, the dreadful fellow has retrieved a three-fingered handheld firearm and passes it up to his top-mounted arm.”

“Yes, Ma’am, and now he’s drawn two more pistols! He’s opened fire with all three guns! That blasted Martian is plugging away at humanity with his green energy blasters!”

“Yes, however, the brute is not much of a marksman, I must say. The fiend merely fires haphazardly in an angry fit of impatience. Oh, I say, good show! A hail of return fire has the callow cur ducking for his life. He has hastily snapped the top lid of his craft back into its proper position, more the pity.”

“These Atlanteans are unrelenting in their assault on these invaders! The Martians vainly try to defend themselves, but there ain’t no metal for their beams to melt! They are defenseless!”

“I say, it behooves us to join in the fray and lend what assistance we may, eh hem? I can already spot a few catapults with spotty computational skills as concerns targeting. This I think is where my aid will do the most good.”

“I see where I can pitch in and help with a catapult crew.”

“Aye, now is the hour in which I defy thee, cursed invader. Suffer the wrath of Paul as I unleash weighty stone against thine unwanted visitation.”

“I can tell you are scoring hits without looking, Miss Plumtartt! I can hear the hits ringing true.”

“Indeed, Mr. Temperance, forgive me if I confess it to be music to my ears.”

“I’ll man the cocking winch. Sir Paul, can you haul that load of stone?”

“Mine buffeting stone doth conquer thee, thou unworthy worm; the pummeling might of Sir Paul Whitmore awaits you, my transgressor.”

Miss Nightingale calls to Miss Engelhart.

“Valuria, come help me here! We can help handle the horses.”

“Oh, yes, Clarabelle. I see what you mean. These platforms must be repositioned. You and I should be able to help handle the horses and assist in the maneuver of these siege engines.”

“Roof!”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Bolt, Valuria and I would appreciate your help with the horses.”

“Hear, hear, I say, good show, without mercy, Mankind pours shot and varied projectile into the two cowering colossus. Victory is so very nearly within our collective grasp!”

{{{Kah-
Whirr
-Chick!}}}

“Look, Miss Plumtartt! The weapon arrangements holding the rod of metal’s despair has spun out of place on one of the mechanical walkers.”

{{{Kah-
Whirr
-Chunck!}}}

“Quite so, Mr. Temperance. A new weapon has been brought forth for our perusal in its place.”

“Yes, ma’am. This new device is much like a very large Black-Eyed pea, but more stretched out and symmetrical of shape. It too, sits in such a manner that conveys the impression of being some sort of devious weapon.”

“Yes, I say, rather.”

“Eh hem, yes, well, the withering fire of our comrades supports that statement.”

{{{Kah-
Whirr
-Chick!}}}

{{{Kah-
Whirr
-Chunck!}}}

“Um, Ma’am? The process has now repeated in the other machine. We now have two, big, bean/capsule weapons pointed at us.”

“Yes, Mr. Temperance, eh hem, quite, rather.”

“Is it just me, or has a sense of dread fallen over our forces?”

“I am afraid that you are correct in that observation, sir. Might I direct your powers of observation back to the towers and weapons in question? I spy a fissure having spread around the capsule’s perimeter. Now a vertical crevasse in ninety degree alignment to the first can be seen to be growing along a green-glowing seam. The object splits and expands at these junctures.”

“The process is repeated in the other craft, Ma’am. The first bean weapon just pulsed brightly glowing along its seams that splits the large weapon up and down, and side to side. Now the other bean has flashed its green light.”

“I say, Mr. Temperance, the two craft are working in accordance with each other. They alternate in their pulsations.”

“Do you feel that, Miss Plumtartt? There is a sound I can hear in my innards. A back and forth medley is bouncing between the monsters. I can’t really hear it, so much as feel it, down deep in my bones.”

“Rather, Mr. Temperance, for the sensation I feel in my organs is in sync with the sequential lights that alternate with the war machines.”