the airplanes were locked in their battle far
that encumbered the irregular edges of old
above.
shell pits.
There was a sudden grinding crash in
The day grew paler; the river swung
one of the casemates of the Thunderbolt
silvery across the landscape. There was not a
behind where the small man sat above his
gun, not a man, not a trench in sight—only the motor. He jerked his head round to see the
iron monsters moving slowly along with the
door bulged sharply inward, with wisps of
whippets nosing here and there among them
smoke eddying through the cracks. When he
and the cruisers along the flanks. Within his
looked again there was a red stain on the steel.
ship, the small man could hear nothing but the He felt sick. An officer came down the
smooth sound of his motor.
catwalk, clinging to projections as the craft
Suddenly there was a startling high
relied, looking like a deep-sea diver in his
scream followed by a quick, virile crash, and a helmet. He did not even glance at the bulged-fountain of earth and vegetation rose smokily
out door and its bloody stain. A curious pale
into the air two hundred yards behind the
mist—the noxious mist of mingled poisonous
Wonder Stories
6
gases, filled the interior of the ship.
bottom of the long parabola, then swung up
The water churned to foam as the and away.
battleship and cruiser tanks began to cross the river, wallowing clumsily, and attended by
The War of the Giants
whippets that dashed through the shallows like terriers. Behind the crest of hills that lay two AS they made the turn, their missiles sought
miles back from the opposite bask the robot
the tanks through the murk—fish-shaped
batteries of the enemy were working torpedoes with long wings at their heads, feverishly, served from underground by carrying sound devices like those controlling sweating gunners, men and women, who piled
the robot guns, and trailing behind them the
shells on the elevators which carried them to
pennons of smoke that indicated rocket
the guns. From them, mechanical arms propulsion. Nearly all fell fallow, blowing reached out to stuff the ammunition into their great pits in the ground, their sound control
maws; the breech blocks snapped shut, failing in the multiple uproar of the battle. But animated by a spirit of their own; and the big one struck a whippet and disorganized it into
guns, making automatic corrections for range
tattered ribbons of metal and another, its
and deflection by means of disc-shaped mechanical ears caught by the sound of a mechanical ears, concealed in rubbish heaps,
badly working motor on a cruiser tank, struck
under trees, everywhere—some of them even
the landship squarely at the base of the turret.
in the very ground the tanks were crossing—
In a burst of intense flame the moving fort of fired themselves at the moment when the steel folded together as though it had been range was correct. Further back, heavier guns
cardboard, the turret pitching in on the ruins of on railroad trucks had begun to fire slowly
the rest. When the fleet had passed only the
under airplane observation.
forefront of the lank remained, leaning at an
Nor did all the shells fall among the
odd angle above the shattered remains from
tanks. For the porcupine-like machine the which bright flames still burned.
small man had seen the night before had
Right on the heels of the aerial attack a
improved the dark hours by digging itself well pillar of smoke between two hills announced
underground and now from a dozen or more
the approach of an enemy tank fleet, rushing
sources was releasing waves of sound that
up to support the now close-pressed robot
brought a good half of the shells from the
guns, and at almost the same time, a titanic
robot batteries crashing uselessly down in the discordant buzzing beat down all the other
woods.
sounds of battle. Another, or perhaps two
But now a new element entered the
more, of the queer porcupine-tanks had
battle as some few airplanes broke free from
followed the attackers in the rear and were
the combat above the clouds and swooped like
adding their sound camouflage to the din. The
swallows on the mass of black smoke that hid
robot guns swung to and fro, helpless in this
the attacking tanks, Down after them swung
torrent of sound, till the operators were fain to pursuit planes; up from the round rose slender, come out of their pits, cut loose the automatic interweaving bands of smoke as the anti-controls and fire them by the old hand method.
aircraft guns of the whippets went into a
Of all this the small man above his
frenzy of action against them. Here and there
motor knew nothing. Locked in his gas helmet
one burst into flame or fell with the peculiar he heard only the irregular shock of bursting
dizzy motion of a machine out of control, but
missiles around the tank, saw only the jerking the rest held on, releasing their missiles at the indicator before him as more or less speed was
The War of the Giants
7
demanded. To the gunner with the scarred
flames of a peculiar orange hue pouring out of chin the battle was hardly more intelligible.
her turret. A third staggered out of line like an The only thing his eyes could catch through
injured animal and moved oddly across the
the malleable glass that formed his window
space between the two fleets, still firing
was the billowy smoke, shot with color here
steadily, but losing motion and life as it
and there as a shell exploded. The odor of the became the target of the concentrated fires.
helmet was fetid, the strain of merely waiting But at that moment there came a huge
intense; again and again the turret gun above
uprush of dirt right ahead, of the Thunderbolt.
went off, firing at its far-away targets, but
Hammers pounded on her carapace; she
there came no call for the broadside artillery.
lurched violently through a snowstorm of dirt
Then without warning, the smoke and rocks, across the crater the shell had thinned and altogether ceased. He perceived
made. The gunner caught a glimpse of
they were just mounting a ridge; two or three
whippets emitting smoke again; of the enemy
whippets dashed past for the head of the line, fleet, which should have been retreating,
and he noted that one of them had her wide
closing in instead. The robot guns, hand-
torpedo-port open and that an aerial torpedo
trained now, were in action again, and at
was pointing outward, ready for release. The
point-blank range.
bell for loading rang sharply, the Thunderbolt pivoted round like a ballet dancer, and through NOTHING visible but smoke; a loud-speaker
his peep-hole the gunner caught a glimpse of
voice began suddenly to call off range and
dim figures emerging from a low-hung cloud
deflections, and the gunner with the scarred
>
of smoke that moved toward them down a
chin worked like a fiend, perspiring violently gentle slope a mile and a half away. The turret inside his coat of mail, setting his sights on the gun fired again, with a violence audible even
indicator that ran round the gun mouth
in that torrent of sound, and the gunner just
according to the data shouted through the
caught a glimpse of the trail of smoke that
loud-speaker. A thinner streak of smoke;
marked the passage of an aerial torpedo bound
through it a cruiser visible, canted over on her toward the enemy fleet. The Thunderbolt
side and burning vigorously. “230, deflection
changed direction again. A shell pitched a
fifteen right—fire!” They bumped violently
column of dirt across his vision and a small
over something, whether tree, house, ruins of
voice cried— “Fire at will, concentrate on
a tank or merely a lump in the ground the
third tank,” and to his astonishment he was
gunner could not tell. Then a stunning
looking down the sights at a line of enemy
explosion which drowned the insistent voice
cruisers. He went into a fury of action.
for a moment; the Thunderbolt changed
Smoke, dirt, flame—the sound of a
direction with such speed as to almost throw
million anvils as the fleets, firing together, him from his seat, and through his window he
swept round each other in a great circle. saw the torn remains of a big tank, her Perhaps five minutes that were an eternity;
forepart shot with flames, one of her side guns then from the opposing fleet billowed clouds
drooping like a melted candle, while two or
of smoke as, too late, they made the fatal
three of her crew ran a step or two from the
discovery that they were opposing a battleship wreck and fell writhing to the ground. On a
attack with mere cruisers. Too late—a still-intact stern-plate a painted halo still mushroom growth of smoke and flame showed.
marked where one had been blown up; another
“My God,” thought the gunner. “The
was stopped where her fleet left her, with
Glory’s gone.” What did it mean? Defeat? and
Wonder Stories
8
he wondered would it would be like to be a
port wide open. The gunner with the scarred
prisoner, carried off to work their mines. Not chin saw with perfect clarity that the torpedo so very different from—
was about to be launched directly at him, from The smoke rolled clear again, and he
a distance of not over three hundred yards—
looked out on a different section of landscape.
realized in a flash that it would blow the
Right against them stood the slope of a hill:
Thunderbolt into a thousand fragments, and out of the tail of his eye he could see the
ducked. He heard no more....
wreckage of a big robot gun, and as the tank
...In the rear, the track-laying machines
swung along, caught sight of another, pointed
were already preceding the railroad artillery-to right at them, but riven by a direct hit in the positions along the river, now cleared by the
fraction of a second before it could fire. The victory.
enemy’s fleet must be done for! They were
* * *
cleaning out the guns. A jet of steam ran
“I congratulate you,” said the brown-
round the inside of the casemate, clearing the faced general. “It was a much better result
gas. All over? Not quite, for the frightful than I had hoped for. Of course, they were uproar without did not seem to have decreased
foolish in trying to stand off the attack with in the least, though there appeared to be no
their position artillery and in supporting with shells falling near the Thunderbolt. The nothing but a squadron of cruisers; but I think gunner swung his window in its pivots, noted
you were lucky, all the same.”
that the Thunderbolt was leading the line of The fussy little man could not forebear
tanks along the reverse slope of a hill, with the a smile of triumph. “Yes,” he said, “on the
turret gun firing occasionally as the observers whole I am satisfied with the result. The
reported some new gun position visible. The
positions along the river will certainly force battle was over for him, however. The turret
these people to try an attack sooner or later, gun would take care of the rest of that robot
and then we know what we can do.... And our
artillery before his gun ever got within range.
losses were not so extraordinary, either. Two
See there was one, now, tipped over on
battleships and three cruisers.”
its side, the delicate mechanism smashed by a
“Yes, yes,” said the brown-faced
direct hit, the corpses of two or three gunners general. “I’m a little sorry about the old
lying about. He could have laughed— And
Thunderbolt though. Knew some of the men then, out of the shadow of the ruined gun,
in her. Did I ever tell you I commanded her
came one little whippet tank, with its torpedo once?”
The War of the giants by Fletcher Pratt Page 2
