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

by Ichabod Temperance

  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!”

  Chapter Seven · To Pluck A Peach.

  “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!”

  “Y
es, 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.”

  “Oh, now I’m starting to hear it with my ears, too, Miss Plumtartt. It is definitely getting louder.”

  Whumm-whumm. Whumm-whumm.

  “Is it just me again, or has a sense of being in over our heads descended over Atlanta’s fighting force?”

  “I say, Mr. Temperance, the elongated capsules are aiming their energies at our catapult battery.”

  The air is suddenly thick and pressing with a disconcerting viscous quality. The identical devices work together in disruptive harmony creating an oppressive aural resonance. The pulsating vibration permeates our beings. On queasy legs, we lurch from the site. The catapult vibrates in a terrible fit. Its image transfers into an eyeball-numbing blur and then violently explodes in a dangerous shrapnel shower of stone and splinter. We are knocked flat by the powerful blast, undone by our own weapon.

  The towers turn their twin sound cannon upon another target. Its end comes in an instant. Faster and faster the awful sonics assault us, with corresponding explosions of our own defenses again being turned against us. Explosions are continual, one after another until all resistance fails.

  “Clarabelle, help me, please! These frightened horses are too much for me!”

  “Here I come, Valuria!”

  “Oh dear, Mr. Temperance, Valuria Englehart has been knocked down and abandoned by her horses.”

  “Uh, hunh? Oh, Goodness! Clarabelle has run to help her but now the two women are caught out in the open and away from anyone that can lend assistance! The giant Martian war-machines have spotted them and have directed their sonic cannon against the girls!”

  “They are beyond the reach of anyone’s help, Mr. Temperance. We are too far and still too badly stunned from our catapult explosion to render aid.”

  The air pulsates with the hated thrum.

  Whumm-whumm. Whumm-whumm.

  The stricken women vibrate in a horrible fit. Atlanta’s battered defenders are too far away and too beaten down to assist the stricken girls. All we can do is look on in horror and grief.

  Clarabelle Nightingale screams!

  *“{{{{AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!}}}}”*

  *{{{{ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - !!!!!}}}}*

  A bubble of perfect silence extends outward from the scarlet-haired avenger of Atlanta.

  “I say, Clarabelle Nightingale’s scream of terror has canceled out the effects of the monsters’ weapons. What a most fortunate turn of events! I say, return to your fight, Atlanta, we are not lost!”

  “She’s
right! Come on, Sir Paul, let’s get to another catapult battery and give this sucker what for!”

  “I say, we have all been instantly heartened at the brave girl’s courage. The city of Atlanta once again takes up the battle for their home. The fight is renewed upon the alien creatures. Atlanta’s defenders drive away her attackers. Might I add, in an extraordinary display, Clarabelle has maintained her note of dissonance. Her stage-earned composure is brought to bear in this magnificent performance.”

  “Yes, Ma’am, she looks to be right at home, as she assumes a confident stance. With head held high, hands clasped before her, and feet perpendicular to one another, she is delivering her aria with pride and conviction.”

  “Jolly good, our Martian adversaries stumble away in ignominious defeat, eh hem?”

  As her hapless mechanical enemies stumble away, Clarabelle’s appreciative audience cheers and applauds. The gracious girl smiles and accepts her accolades with easy aplomb, a nod of the head, and finally, a flourished curtsy.

  Chapter Eight · Pursuit Into Misery

  The Tallahassee Lassie

  Sunday June 31, 1876

  By Miss Topsy Buxomheft.

  U.S. UNDER FULL-SCALE ATTACK!

  Confirmed! Authorities and scientists from around the World agree that the terrors that besiege a bewildered World are in fact beings from the planet Mars! Nine invaders have landed on Earth; three in Australia, three in Europe. The three ‘Martian’ invaders here in the United States have all successfully duplicated themselves and their mechanical weapons platforms. After making impact in Alabama, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia, the three meteors later revealed their true identity as invasion modules. Steel towns, near to the places of the Martian landing zones, were soon under attack and occupation by the invasion forces. The iron-producing furnaces and steel mills of Birmingham, Bethlehem, and Weirton have produced their devastating duplicate war machines. These cities now lie in burning ruin.

  Eyewitness accounts give gruesome details to the monster’s method of propagation. This reporter will not pass on the disturbing knowledge other than to say the public is warned against making any contact under any circumstances. These visitors from another planet are killers. They do not come in peace.