My War of the Worlds Sequel- WoTW: Aftermath.

[jeffwaynefan]

Very nice. . . THE SEARCH has the feel of the early works of Clive Cussler, similar in style to his book Raise The Titanic.

[EvilNerfherder]

Does it? Odd!
I did read that book quote a few years back.. maybe it's SUBconcious.

[jeffwaynefan]

nerfherder said:

... maybe it's SUBconcious.

Boom! Boom!

[richardburton]

Excellent stuff, mate. You continue to build the intrigue and suspense. Like the differing dynamics between Smith and Cavendish and Smith and the Commandos. Coming along very well - can't wait for the next installment.

[wotwfan48]

;DVery very good, real sci fi action. You have a gift. dont stop.
can't wait to see the next one. Chantale. ;D

[Poyks]

I've had a chance to catch up, and that is just so good! The story makes you want to keep on reading, with the consistancy and flow of a great classic book in the making.

[Anim8tr]

Been playing catch-up on the story as well, Nerf. Brilliant work!
I'm anxious to read how things between Cavendish and the Captain turn out.

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH.


26. The Flagship



Two days later, the search of the seabed bore fruit at last.
The bridge of the Nautilus Bridge of the Nautilus was virtually silent aside from the Captain muttering new headings and a sailor calling out small targets caught on the sonar screen.
Mid morning, there was a shrill cry form the young seaman.
‘Captain, a target dead ahead! We’re coming up fast on it and it’s not moving.’
The Captain turned quickly, the excitement in the boy’s voice making him instantly attentive.
‘A ship?’
‘If it is Sir, it’s a big’un! This is like nothing I’ve seen before on the screen!’
‘Any other targets?’ the Captain asked.
‘No, Sir, not a one.’
As one we all turned to look through the viewing screen. There was nothing to see there but the usual darkness dashed with small fish that glittered like tiny stars in the night sky. I wondered briefly if I would see a similar view from a ship in the depths of space.
‘Ahead slow, ready weapons!’ the Captain snapped.
Cavendish breathlessly appeared behind me. A sailor had fetched him from his room at this latest development.
‘What is it, Smith?’ he puffed.
‘Looks like we may have arrived,’ I replied.
‘Keep a sharp eye out,’ the Captain told the sailor at the sonar. ‘Anything else comes along, sing out.’
‘Aye, sir.’
The darkness in the viewing screen held our attention as we approached this object. Presently, a dim shape appeared in the distance and grew larger.
‘The cylinder!’ Cavendish breathed.
‘But where are the Martians?’ I wondered aloud.
‘Inside, perhaps?’ Cavendish said. ‘Captain. I think we should stop and ready the troops.’
The cylinder was now visible on the screen. It was a glinting black and looked much larger than even the cylinder on Horsell Common. A line of dim green lights went from the nose to tail of it and it sat on the seabed like some nightmarish sleeping sea monster. It was rested with its back to a large hill with what appeared to be a sharp drop behind it.
‘It’s enormous!’ said a sailor rather obviously.
‘The flagship!’ Cavendish said excitedly. ‘It has to be!’
Churchill appeared at the door of the bridge now, grimly chewing on his cigar.
‘Churchill, the troops?’ Cavendish asked him.
‘They are on standby do you wish me to ready them?’
‘No time like the present, eh?’

Churchill now sat at his own sonar console on the bridge. On it he could monitor events as they unfolded.
After a brief conference, it was decided that the original plan for the assault would be adhered to. The main body of troops would approach the Cylinder from the front, hopefully diverting the Martians attention from the Commandos who would try to enter the cylinder elsewhere and destroy it. The submersibles weapons could have been brought to bear and we could have tried to destroy the Cylinder from the vessel without the need for loss of human life, I thought, but Cavendish wanted, he said, to try to take the cylinder intact. This new revelation disturbed me and did not seem to please the Captain either. On hearing this, he cast another malevolent glance at Cavendish before turning back to his duties. Churchill, for his part, looked more grim than usual for a moment but gave no other indication of his feelings away.
I imagined men rushing to and fro, machinery being readied and weapons checked as the tension built on the bridge. The Cylinder was still the only target to be seen on the sonar.
I wondered why the Martians did not attack as they surely must have known this huge vessel was so close to them. The feeling of unease in my stomach grew.
There was a radio link up to the Sergeant’s men that had been built into their suits. That this technology existed was quite astounding and brought home to me again just how far we had come in that respect since the war.
Churchill now called to the Sergeant on this device and I heard my new friend’s voice scratchily make a brief reply.
‘We are ready,’ said Churchill turning in his seat.
‘Very well, let’s begin,’ Cavendish answered.

[Commandingtripod]

Super stuff here!
Flag ship of the fleet? Nice stuff there to.

[Luperis]

Ooooh... flagship...
Interesting conflict of interests building between Cavendish and the captain/rest of the crew too.
Well done, nerfy. ;D

[richardburton]

I agree - you're really building the tension between Cavendish and the others, mate. "There may be trouble ahead..." Great stuff, can't wait to read the next installment.

[wotwfan48]

Hi nerfh, Still really good, about the tension between, Cavendish and the captain, is a really good idea, we have to not forget, how is humain nature, and never forget to talk about that in a book, espcially with a Scifi. It brings us back to reality, And it is even more important in a fiction book.

bravo nerph. Chantale.

[Poyks]

Fantastic! I like the continued feeling that technology that we take for granted now, is regarded as awesome and new in the storys context. A great paradox that makes you feel that todays world is based on past Martian brainpower.

[Herulian Martian]

I like how this story is going...also I am glad it's not another cover-up story like too many I have seen!

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH.


27. Spider to the Flies.



A high-pitched whine signalled the start of the campaign. The great doors at Nautilus’ front opened and the main body of troops disembarked. A sailor, at a barked command from the Captain, flicked a switch and the viewing window suddenly showed two different views; one from within the front of the vessel looking out, as before, and another from just outside at the level of the seabed. I assumed that the latter view was generated by some additional device on the outer hull.
I watched as the human Fighting Machines jerkily stepped out onto the seabed and, bubbles rising from their joints, began to make their way toward the cylinder.
I could just see one of the men in the hood of one of these machines looking nervously around as he drove past the device showing this view. He did not seem, to me, to have much faith in the ability of his machine to keep the water out.
Accompanying these machines were the be-suited troops, one hundred in number, walking as if in slow motion and obviously fighting the friction of the water that surrounded them. All carried weaponry of some sort or other and carried big square packs on their backs. Little trails of bubbles emanated from the bulky helmets they wore and rose slowly toward the surface so far above.
On the sonar screen, these soldiers and machines started as a green mass, then gradually became small individual dots as they slowly spread out.
Churchill sat stiffly at his console muttering orders into the radio set, occasionally muffled voices answered.
‘The main body of troops is underway,’ Churchill said in Cavendish’s direction.
‘Very good,’ Cavendish answered. ‘Send the Commandos on their way.’
Churchill muttered something into his radio and he turned to watch the sonar.
On the screen, a small green dot appeared at the front of the vessel and headed off to the side of the rest of the men and away.
‘Commandos despatched, ‘ the Lieutenant snapped.
‘Excellent,’ Sir George answered.
The tension was rising on the bridge. Even Cavendish’s usually beaming visage wore a slight frown.
The sailor on the sonar screen seemed coiled like a spring, ready to shout out should any foreign targets appear. None did.
‘Why don’t they come?’ I asked finally. ‘Cavendish, something is wrong about all this.’
Cavendish regarded me for a moment.
‘Calm yourself, man. I expect they are in the cylinder wondering what to do about us. Soon we will have them surrounded and they will not have a hope. I expect a full surrender from them at any moment.’
‘Surrender?’ I said, incredulously. ‘The Martians do not surrender! Have you taken leave of your senses?’
‘Certainly not,’ Cavendish retorted. ‘Have you? These creatures, aggressive as they may be, will surely see that they have no option but to give up. We are holding all of the cards now, Smith, mankind need not fear them any more.’
I shook my head but said nothing more. The Captain cast a quick glance at me and I again wondered what this man was thinking. Did he think me, or Cavendish, to be the fool?

We watched on as the troops grew nearer to the cylinder. One of the Fighting Machines ground to a halt, barely staying upright. There were a few excited conversations on the radio as some men came to the aid of the driver. After a few moments of activity around the stricken machine, it began moving again.
I saw from the sonar screen that the Commandos were now well away from the main group and were rounding on the cylinder from the side. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be one of these men, in a hostile environment and sweating in a bulky suit with the adrenaline pulsing through their bodies. The effort of making headway through the freezing water must have been enormous and I did not envy them.
Again, I began to wonder why the Martians did not attack when there was a horrified cry from the sonar operator.
‘Sir! Multiple targets approaching!’
Cavendish and I hurried to the boy’s side.
‘Where?’ Cavendish asked excitedly.
‘Sir, they’re everywhere, all around!’
I looked, my heart beating rapidly, at the screen. I could see our soldiers clustered near to the cylinder. Around the rim of the ghostly image appeared many small dots. Horrified, I realised that the men were suddenly and completely surrounded.
‘My god, Cavendish! They’ve walked into a trap!’ I shouted. ‘Get them out of there!’
Cavendish stood frozen to the spot, a look of utter horror on his face, as this deadly net closed in on our forces.

[wotwfan48]

Oh my, Nerphy, thi is getting better and better, can't wait for more. Chantale. ;D, cheers.

[Commandingtripod]

Will they survive?

Can't wait to find out.
Gripping! ;D

[richardburton]

Damn gripping stuff, Nerfmeister!

[Luperis]

Things are starting to get really intense now... Lovely.
Amazing and gripping... The story has got me on the very edge of my seat... *ouch* (I fell off) ;D
Seriously though... it is just getting better and better. Well done, Nerfy.

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS:AFTERMATH.



28. Disquiet in the ranks.


I grabbed Cavendish’s shoulders and shook him. His limp body gave as much resistance as would some overstuffed rag doll.
‘Come on, man!’ I shouted straight into his now pale face. ‘We have to do something!’
‘But what can we do?’ Cavendish eventually replied in a small voice. His watery eyes met mine like an admonished puppy. I pushed him away from me in disgust.
‘Churchill?’ I said, turning to the Lieutenant who sat grim faced at his console.
Churchill looked at me steadily for a moment then he flicked a switch on the panel before him.
‘Mother Hen to Chicks, Mother Hen to Chicks,’ he barked urgently into his radio device. ‘Return to nest immediately. Repeat, return to nest immediately. Targets closing in all around you, over.’
A harsh whine emanated from the speaker and then a far away sounding voice answered.
‘Chicks to Mother Hen, no visual on targets. I repeat, no visual. Are you sure, Mother Hen?’
‘Positive returns on targets. You are ordered to withdraw immediately,’ Churchill shouted into the device.
‘Returning to nest, Mother Hen,’ the distorted voice answered.
Cavendish seemed to return to himself a little at this exchange. He shook his shaggy head and moved forward a little.
‘No!’ he spluttered. ‘They must fight!’
‘What?’ I asked incredulously. ‘Cavendish, those men are surrounded by god alone knows how many of the Martians. They must get back here or they will all die! Churchill, can we not just destroy the Cylinder with the weapons on this vessel? Without a base of operations, surely it would be just a matter of tracking down any surviving Martians then?’
Churchill nodded. ‘Perhaps that could work.’
Cavendish shook his head again emphatically. ‘Order them to fight, Churchill or I will have you Court-martialled.’
The Captain, who had been silent up until now, stepped forward. His whole frame shook with barely concealed anger.
‘Now look here, Cavendish. I am Captain of this vessel and am responsible for the safety of all aboard her. I will not stand here and watch those men massacred because you wish to save a few more of those Martian trinkets.’
Cavendish eyed the Captain coldly and spat a reply. ‘I am in overall charge of this mission and I will not have my orders questioned. Get back to your post, Captain, or I will have you relieved of duty immediately.’
On the sonar screen, the small dots closed in on the mass of men who were now visibly heading back toward us.
The radio hissed suddenly and a frantic voice could be heard.
‘Mother Hen, Mother Hen. Targets sighted. They are Martians all right! I think we are going to have to fight our way through them, they are coming at us too quickly.’
Those of us on the bridge turned our gazes to the viewing window. I could see the men returning, walking as quickly as they could in their bulky suits. I could not see the Martians yet. A Fighting Machine came into view amongst the men and headed jerkily toward the submersible. Some seaweed was caught in one of its legs and flapped behind it like a pennant in a strong breeze.
Then the men stopped and all appeared to be looking frantically around them, weapons ready. I soon saw what gave them pause.
Out of the murky gloom to the right and left came Martians. There must have been at least a hundred, perhaps more. They wore strange bronze coloured helmets and skipped along the seabed on their tentacles with an amazing turn of speed. Accompanying them were numerous remote walkers, small hoods swaying too and fro as they came.
‘My God!’ Churchill breathed.
The Martians slowed as they neared our force and brandished strange looking weapons. Some of our men knelt and took aim. Then nothing happened for a moment.
For what seemed like hours, but must have only have been seconds, this standoff continued. Man facing Martian in a hostile wasteland.
The conflict between us on the bridge was momentarily forgotten as we all stood breathlessly transfixed.
The radio hissed to life again. Somebody yelled one word.
‘Fire!’
With the utterance of this one small word, there was no turning back and chaos ensued.