My War of the Worlds Sequel- WoTW: Aftermath.

[Commandingtripod]

I think I've said this over a thousand times already but it's true: It's a great story.

To me Nerfy, your the first person to describe in detail the inside of a Martian cylinder.
I don't think anyway else has (that I can remember anyway).

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH.

11. Deeper.

On we went into the depths of the cylinder, the eerie light showing us the way.
We passed more compartments, all containing more machinery and unfathomable instruments. Cavendish was like a child in a toyshop and did not try to hide his glee at each new discovery.
‘Such wonders!’ he would exclaim periodically. He and the scientists would coo over each new thing like a flock of pigeons over crumbs.
Horton stayed silent as usual but still cast glances at me now and then, the look in his eyes spoke volumes. What danger did he foresee for me? Was I not safe with our armed guards? Once I went to question him but I saw that Cavendish was looking over curiously and Horton waved me away with a small flick of his hand.
Finally, we appeared to come to the end. A great wall faced us with another of the sliding doors set into it. This too was open.
We entered into a final cavernous space. A dull thrumming came from the black machinery that took up a great part of the room. Small green puffs of smoke hissed from joints as the machine worked at some unknown purpose.
‘The engine room!’ Carter said reverently.
‘Magnificent!’ breathed Cavendish. ‘Can you imagine the power? I’ll warrant one of these could produce enough energy to power all of London!’
‘At least’ said Carter.
We stared at the thing for a moment, the dull thrumming had an almost hypnotic quality.
‘We must discover how this works,’ Cavendish said finally. ‘Can you do it, Carter?’
‘I couldn’t say,’ the engineer answered. ‘To even try, I will need a team of men under my direction and access to funding.’
‘You shall have it,’ Cavendish said. ‘Anything you need. We must discover the secrets!’
‘Very well.’
Cavendish turned to address the whole group.
‘Gentlemen, we have many discoveries here to be made. I would suggest we move back outside and plan the extraction of these items. Obviously, the engine will have to stay for now, it is far too unwieldy to move. Carter, you and your team will set up a workshop here at the back of the Cylinder.’
We shuffled out of the engine room and began the trek back to the outside.

The journey back was uneventful. The soldiers seemed nervous, but I could not blame them for that. I wondered how many of them had seen friends in the service scattered to the four winds by the Martian Heat-ray, or choked by the black smoke. I actually felt better that they were wary, as it seemed to me that they would be on guard and ready to face any eventuality.
One of the soldiers, Perkins, began to chat cheerily with his comrades as we walked. Perhaps he was attempting to raise their spirits in this sinister place but eventually Jones, the sergeant, hissed at him to be quiet.
I turned my eyes away as we passed the charnel houses of the feeding room and the baskets. I had no wish to see those poor wretches within again.
At length we saw the fading light of the sky in the opening. Had we been inside that long? It didn’t seem possible. I realised that we hadn’t even stopped to eat.
As we left the cylinder, I felt like a great weight had been lifted from me. I took a great lungful of chill evening air and let the slight breeze gently blow the foul odours that had clouded my senses away.
The rain had stopped and clouds scudded like ships across a rising moon. As darkness fell, we retired to the mess tent for refreshment.

That night, I lay in a folding bunk in a tent that had been provided for me. It appeared we would be staying on the Common for at least another day whilst Cavendish directed operations.
I could not sleep so I lay and tried not to think of the horrors I had seen. I thought of my wife and better times. Times before the Martians came.
Occasionally, the low murmurs of our guards and the pop and crackle of their campfire drifted to me.
Finally, sleep began to take me and my eyelids grew heavy. I drifted away.

A scream woke me almost, it seemed, as soon as I had fallen asleep. I jumped like lightning from my bunk and fumbled for my clothes. What was happening?
Angry shouts now, then a clanging of an alarm bell.
I left my tent to be confronted with a scene of utter confusion.

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH.

12. Sabotage.

Soldiers rushed here and there whilst Jones stood in the middle of it all barking orders. The pungent smell of smoke assailed my nostrils and, looking around, I saw that a couple of the tents were aflame. A man throwing water at the tent got too close and his coat caught fire. A soldier wrestled him to the ground and rolled him before the flames could take proper hold.
The action stopped at the sound of a gunshot. All eyes turned to the edge of the camp where a soldier, Perkins I saw, was standing aiming his rifle. Another shot.
The other soldiers rushed to join their comrade rifles raised. Jones followed.
‘What are you shooting at lad?’ the Sergeant shouted at the top of his lungs as he ran.
Perkins did not look round but carried on firing at something we could not see.
The soldiers got to within a few yards of the young soldier when they fell back suddenly. It was as if something invisible had swept past and knocked them over like skittles.
With horror, I realised what it was. A Heat-ray!
Perkins stood stock still for a moment then, silhouetted against the flames that now surrounded him, arched his back and screamed. Although I could not see clearly, I knew that his skin would now be peeling, blackening and cracking. His eyeballs would be turned to liquid in their sockets and his hair would have been ablaze. Mercifully, the torment would not have lasted long for him.
In a moment, his still burning remains fell to the ground.
A shocked silence fell on the camp. Then, the chaos resumed as people ran towards the remaining soldiers.
A few were quite badly burned but would live. The others were winded but otherwise unharmed. Jones picked himself of the ground and looked around with a practised eye to see where the ray had come from. Bushes and patches of ground in the area that had been touched by the Heat-ray smouldered, just like poor Perkins. The trees where the ray seemed to have come from hissed in a rising breeze but no further attack came and there was no sign of any assailant.
Jones swore mightily and assembled a small group of unhurt soldiers to make a thorough search.
As the soldiers left, the rest of us set to putting out the fires and bringing back some semblance of order to the camp.

We gathered in the mess tent an hour or so later..
Cavendish looked around the assemblage grimly but said nothing until the search party returned.
‘Nothing, Sir! We could find no sign of anyone.. or anything’ Jones said breathlessly.
Baxter spoke next. ‘Sir George, who do you think attacked us? Martians?’
Cavendish thought for a moment. ‘Perhaps. We cannot say for sure that there aren’t roving bands of Martian survivors somewhere out there.’
‘Well who else?’ I asked.
‘Anarchist, foreign governments- we cannot rule out anything. Many people want to get their hands on the machines we are discovering. This was some kind of sabotage, but who instigated it, I could not say.’
‘The Martians will want their playthings back, too,’ observed Peters. Their numbers may be severely depleted but they can still cause us a lot of bother, I am sure. Keep us busy until their comrades arrive. If they arrive.’
‘Is anything missing? Any of the captured weaponry?’ Carter asked.
Cavendish shook his head. ‘We don’t think so. We have checked the lists and all appears in order.’
‘So where did whoever it was get the Heat-ray from?’
‘This was a Heat-ray, alright.’ Cavendish answered, ‘But a portable one. Did you notice that the effect was much more localised than usual and only claimed one victim.’
I saw Jones grit his teeth a little at the casual manner in which the death of one of his soldiers was described.
‘Something new?’ Carter said.
‘No. We have found Heat-ray rifles before. We think they were putting the finishing touches to them when they met their demise. They were experimenting with many things.’ This last reminded me of the Flying Machine my Brother and his companions had seen. I made a mental note to ask Cavendish about that later.
‘So I suppose they have raided some other Cylinder or some such to get weaponry, whoever they may turn out to be,’ Peters said.
‘It’s not impossible,’ Cavendish conceded.
With that, we retired to our tents to snatch what little sleep we could.

[Poyks]

Brilliant Nerf, and thanks for the cameo!

I can see my gravestone now..."Sizzled but not forgotten!" ;D

[richardburton]

lol you died fighting though!

Nerf, got back from Amsterdam last night and this morning just had a chance to read the new installments. Bloody brilliant. You totally captured the menacing, claustrophobic mood within the cylinder. Well done!

[EvilNerfherder]

richardburton said:

Nerf, got back from Amsterdam last night

Are you sore?

[richardburton]

No, quite pleased really

[Rob]

Excellent mate, really good stuff. Gets better and better

[jeffwaynefan]

Awesome . . . .

It's coming together very much like a story written at the time or a few years after H.Gs original and your attention to details is superb.

[Anim8tr]

What powerful mental imagery your writing conveys, Nerf.
This is some fantastic stuff. There's a very unique and gifted style to your prose.

Very well written and a pleasure to be reading.

[EvilNerfherder]

Thanks! I'm glad people are enjoying it.

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH.


13. A Warning.

A few hours later, I was awoken, un-refreshed, from a restless slumber by the sound of activity in the camp. I made use of the washing facilities provided and then wandered over to the mess tent.
The weather had taken a turn decidedly for the better and the sky was a bright blue. Small, fluffy clouds meandered across this airy landscape like lazily grazing sheep. A bright Sun gently warmed the earth and was reflected dazzlingly off the Cylinder and the sentinel tripod that stood nearby.
The three Scientists were poring over some artefacts that had been placed on trestle tables near the mess tent. I heard disjointed snatches of conversation coming from their little huddle.
‘..powered by some kind of atomic power..’
‘.. possible applications in the Empire…’
‘.. our own machines!’
I stood a little way off trying to catch more but Carter saw me and muttered something to the others. They took to talking more quietly after that. It appeared that I was not to be included in all that occurred in these investigations.
In the mess tent some soldiers sat soberly sipping tea. One had a bandage on his hand and his hair was singed. I nodded to him. I understood his pain for the loss of his brave comrade Perkins. If it wasn’t for that man’s thoughtless actions, we could all have fallen prey to the same horrible burning death as befell him. We owed him an un-repayable debt of gratitude.
Cavendish was talking animatedly to Horton as I took a seat near them. He looked up.
‘Smith, that was a terrible business last night. We must get the artefacts back to the laboratory. We have much more control over security there.’
I felt exposed here out on the Common, despite our guards, and could not disagree.
‘We hope to leave by noon. Carter will, of course, be staying here to work on the engine of the Cylinder and we have more soldiers on the way to subsidise the forces already here. I have business outside now, I will leave you in Horton’s capable hands for the moment.’ With that, he shuffled out of the tent.
Horton regarded me for a moment with his black eyes and then he stood.
‘Shall we take a walk?’
We left the tent and walked silently for a while. I found myself superstitiously avoiding burnt patches of ground as if they were cursed. It occurred to me that perhaps, with the Martians still a possible threat, the whole of our Planet Earth was cursed.
When we were out of immediate earshot of the main camp Horton spoke.
‘Smith, I know you are suspicious of my motives, but I assure you I mean you no harm. On the contrary, I wish only to save you any more trials. I ask you again to leave as soon as you can.’
‘I have too many questions. I must know what is going on.’ I replied.
‘I can understand that,’ Horton stopped and faced me. ‘However, you have seen the danger that lies around our work. For Heaven’s sake, man! We were all nearly killed in our beds last night. Whoever it was that attacked us meant to sabotage our operations. If it hadn’t been for that soldier, we might not be speaking now.’
‘What do you know of the sabotage attempt last night?’ I asked, suddenly suspicious.
Something flashed behind Horton’s eyes but was gone as quickly as I noticed it.
‘Nothing I can divulge with any certainty,’ he said. I could detect no untruth in his voice or manner, but something still felt wrong. Horton continued.
‘All I can say is that I have information that this will not be an isolated case. Last week a strange turn of events began,' he paused for a moment. ‘Scientists who have recently worked on various projects for the Government started to disappear. A few days ago one reappeared but he had been killed. In fact, he was horribly burned and mutilated. We were only able to identify the man through personal effects that were with the body.’
‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Is there some conspiracy afoot?’
‘Yes, I believe so. I am working hard to find out what this is about and who is responsible but I fear that the danger will deepen. That is why I wish you to leave.’
I regarded the man for a moment. I could see no reason why he would wish me ill. I was not even a pawn in this game. I was here only to report on the investigation and offer explanations to the public, was I not?
My mind was now made up.
‘Horton, I thank you for your concern but I cannot leave now. I have seen too much and I was asked to do a job. I will follow it through.’
‘I think you are a fool,’ Horton sighed. ‘I cannot guarantee your safety and you stay with this project at your own risk.’
I nodded. ‘Understood.’
‘Your misplaced sense of duty and adventure could well get you killed, Smith. I think one day you will remember my words.’ Shaking his head, he led us back to camp.


Work continued apace and wagons were being loaded with Martian weaponry and machinery whilst some soldiers watched curiously. Other military men stood on guard at the edges of the camp, much more wary than before.
Cavendish directed all this activity like a true maestro conducting an orchestra.
The man looked up as Horton and I approached.
‘Ah. We are nearly ready for the off. Gather your things.’
‘Sir George,’ I said. ‘I meant to ask you about the Flying Machine.’
Cavendish looked surprised for a moment.
‘Oh yes, what of it?’
‘Where is it?’
‘You wish to see it?’ Cavendish cocked his head at me.
‘Is that possible? My brother saw the Martians testing it. It is apparently quite a sight.’
‘I see no reason why not. In fact, we have people working on it and I would be interested to see how they are progressing. I will arrange it.’ He returned to his work.
We finally left the camp in our convoy of wagons and carriages at one p.m. Soldiers ushered us on our way us like fussy nannies and the journey back to the laboratory went by uneventfully.

[Poyks]

This is moving on with perfect timing, I'm now completely hooked!

(Perkins speaking posthumously; "I was just doing my job." ;D)

[Leatherhead]

OOOOHHHH! FLYING MACHINE!!!!!

[Commandingtripod]

Ah the good ol' flying machine.

Are you gonna put in about the brother or will I just have to wait and find out?

[Luperis]

Another great installment.
Yay! Flying machine! Can't wait. ;D

[richardburton]

Nice work, Nerfmeister! It's progressing very well - looking forward to the next installment.

[Rob]

Ditto, can't wait to see the flying machine. I'm love this story

[EvilNerfherder]

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS: AFTERMATH.


14.The Flying Machine.

The next few days passed in compiling notes and pondering my experiences.
Cavendish was gone on one of his missions in the City and Horton was mostly absent, I assumed in his investigations on the sabotage attempt and the disappearances of the Scientists.
Horton did, on the second day after the incident at the Cylinder, accompany me on a tour of other areas of the facility, mostly huge laboratories where white-coated men worked at studying some of the artefacts we had brought back with us. Horton warned me no more. Indeed he acted as if nothing had happened and we had never spoken of the danger that my presence here posed to me . Even when he was not there, though, I had the strangest feeling that he was watching me. Was he guardian angel or keeping his enemy close? Time would tell, I thought.
On that day, I asked if I could see the Martian again. Horton seemed reluctant to allow it but finally he relented. Why I wished to go back and see that monstrosity again, I could not say, but I felt that I had to.
So, Horton and I stood at the observation window. The Martian was facing the other way at first, but after a short while, it wriggled around on its tentacles and faced us. Slowly, it slithered across the floor of the cell until it was almost at the window. The great glowing eyes locked onto mine and it stared.
‘Careful, Smith,’ Horton muttered. I ignored him.
All I could see were the great glowing eyes like twin burning suns. They burned into my mind and, suddenly, I saw images in my head.
I saw Mars with many of these creatures moving around the streets, just like I had seen in the Crystal Egg. I saw a scene inside a Cylinder, the Martian crew in the tanks full of liquid we had seen in the cylinder. I saw Martians pouncing on pale bipeds and feeding. I saw a group of these creatures sitting in some kind of council chamber hooting excitedly at each other.
I felt something probing at my mind. It was reading my thoughts!
I heard a voice, far away: ‘Smith! Smith!’
These strange mind pictures were stopped abruptly when a sharp pain on my cheek was the result of a slap from Horton. I stared uncomprehendingly at the man for a moment.
‘What happened?’ Horton asked.
‘It was talking to me. Showing me things,’ I answered distractedly.
‘Hmm. It has tried that with a very few. We order the guards not to look at its eyes. Perhaps some people are more susceptible. Come, we must go’

I was starting to wonder how long I was to be at the facility. I did not seem to be performing any function at this time and I intended to ask Cavendish, when he returned, if I could visit my wife. The knight returned two days later, his usual ebullient self.
‘Ready for a trip then, Smith?’
‘Where to?’ I asked rather grumpily. I felt I knew how a neglected child might feel.
‘How would you like to see the Flying Machine tested?’ Cavendish had a glint in his eye.
‘Of course,’ I said brightening.
‘We leave in an hour,’ Cavendish’s manner momentarily became serious. ‘Oh, I should appreciate if you did not visit our Martian friend any more. You have had, I gather, a taste of the powers that those beasts possess. Until we understand more, please stay away.’

We went via overland train to the Essex coast, I am not entirely sure exactly of our destination. The station appeared to have no signs and I neglected to ask my hosts of the name of the place.
We were conveyed from the station by carriage and travelled a short way on windswept and pitted roads to a rural area with no sign of habitation around. In a large field, a tall fence had been erected and I could not see what lay beyond. The fence stretched for a goodly number of yards either way.
Our carriages pulled up at some great wooden gates in the fence and two soldiers, after checking our identities, let us through.
Beyond were more soldiers, all armed, and the Machine.
It sat in the middle of the fenced area like a huge, squat black bird. It was a matt black, not shiny and it appeared to absorb light rather than reflect it. If this thing was metal, I had not seen it’s like before.
The machine was shaped like a massive ‘V’ and had little in the way of surface features. I could see a small window at the pointed front end and a pale green light could be seen within.
A little group of men stood nearby and we headed in their direction.
Cavendish shook hands enthusiastically with a tall army man and made introductions.
‘Smith, this is Frederick Roberts, Commander-in-Chief of His Majesties Forces. He has come from London, like us, to watch this event.’
The man nodded curtly and introduced the various men he was with. They were all minor dignitaries, there to represent their various governmental and forces departments.
A scientist went to Cavendish and muttered something. Cavendish seemed pleased. He jabbered something to Horton, then addressed the assembly.
‘Gentlemen, we are ready to start. Now we are all aware of the advances that the Wright Brothers in America, and others, are making in the field of manned flight. If this test is successful, we will push those advances far ahead and will re-write history. Shall we begin?’ He nodded at the scientist.
There must have been a man in the Machine already for the Scientist waved a finger and there was a coughing report from the huge contraption then a deep throbbing noise. Small green puffs of smoke hissed from vents in the wings and the noise gradually became higher in pitch.
To our amazement, the whole thing began to lift, slowly, straight up in the air.
I saw that the air under the thing was rippling and it reminded me of the heat haze on hot pavement. The machine had gone up, perhaps twenty feet when there was a commotion at the gate. We all swung round from the majestic site before us to see what the trouble was.
Solders ran this way and that then there was a tremendous explosion. The gates had imploded scattering splinters and chunks of wood every which way. Then there was silence.
‘NO!’ Cavendish exclaimed. ‘Not again!’
Roberts started marching towards the gates barking orders. Soldiers rushed to obey, then all stopped dead.
Through the smoke at the gate came four glittering metallic figures. They made strange whining, whirring noises as they walked and I was struck with the odd appearance of them. Thinking back, the closest approximation I can come up with is of two-legged dogs. Six feet tall two legged dogs, to be precise. The legs both looked much like a dog’s rear legs and they sprouted from odd, rounded bodies topped by a small head thrust forward on long necks.
They marched steadily through the ruined gates and onwards towards us.
‘What devilry is this?’ someone gasped. No one answered.
Roberts barked again and the soldiers snapped out of their shock. Raising their rifles, they fired off volleys at the strange intruders. Bullets bounced off the shining metal bodies and on the things marched.
‘What are they doing?’ Cavendish asked, the realising where the machines were headed, his face took on a look of horror.
‘Stop them!’ he screamed at the top of his lungs.
The soldiers rushed to comply, then spotted the small funnels that protruded from the heads of the machines. The first soldier that was hit by a miniature Heat-ray did not know what hit him. Others ran only to be picked off by this vile death anyway. The dignitaries and I ran blindly away as the machines came close to where the Flying Machine was hovering. They stood for a moment, then loosed their rays on one of the wings.
The Flying Machine wobbled slightly from the impact of these blasts then, as more rays were unleashed, tipped over onto one side. A wingtip churned the grass as the machine performed a slow, graceful pirouette then crashed the ground.
Green smoke poured out of the machine then there were explosions deep within its belly. Bits of black metal flew through the air and I ran faster, terror filling my mind. I was now a being of pure instinct, survival was all I could think of.
Horton, who was running beside me, shouted a sharp warning. I looked around but Horton suddenly pushed me hard to the floor. I looked up to see his face turn pale, then there was a whistling sound through the air and he toppled over, a piece of metal wreckage sticking out of his body. I forgot the danger and went over to the prone man. He looked at me with pain filled eyes, opened his mouth as if to say something, then twitching once, expired.
Something hit my head and there was blackness.

[Leatherhead]

well...hell of a day for our narrator