Captain Forsyth: A Letter

A Web of Intrigue

The ongoing letter that Henry writes to his brother Clarance, which is now addressed to his wife.

Dear Abigail,

Again, I’ve scribbled a few notes as we have gone along, again I hope these somehow find you.

We’d stopped for luncheon and a rest. Now we were faced with a bat filled cavern of substantial proportions and an exit somewhat up a wall that would require a climb.

I may lay a modest claim to be able to move with some tact. Tiger hunting in India was a very fine balance, one had to move with care or become the prey. Hartwell, excellent hunter that he is, possesses the same instincts I believe.

But our scientists have no experience in this type of skill and no reason why they should have. Our last encounter with a cavern such as this, was perhaps somewhat comic in those two entered it and struggling with their footing.

We also know that the bats, if woken, will attack en masse. Individually they are no threat, but a whole cauldron of them is a different matter. They will swarm all over you and their little bites can become death by a thousand cuts.

Weighting up the risks, we decided that the miraculous device Wilhelm has created that can take us from one place to another was our best option.

So, we found ourselves across the cavern in the exit. Except it was a loose rock or scree slope. While I bounded up with my usual cat like prowess, being in the field does somewhat hone these skills, the others fared less well.

Grant barely kept his feet; Hartwell lost his as did Wilhelm.

Grant was able to grab Hartwell by the ankle as he slid past and in turn Hartwell grabbed Wilhelm.

The bats were now disturbed and a whirling deadly black mass filled the chamber together with a continuous high-pitched screeching.

We were able to recover the position, while the bats seemed too excited, to find us as prey.

The next chamber was breathtaking.

Huge and full of stalactites and stalagmites. Except clear pathways had been created through the latter. Small steps too.

We had clearly encountered the work of sentient beings. The size of the steps was clearly far small to have been created by humans.

The Pathways led to 4 exits, all in darkness.

We took the first on our left, the idea that we might explore them in order.

We descended a staircase, to narrow for our feet, but given how little we weighed, it was not really a concern.

We had Wilhem’s lantern for light, it glanced about, showed water on the walls, but I missed a trick in not looking at the floor.

So it was that I didn’t spot the fragile rock and pent-up pressure behind it that was about to release as we descended.

The staircase erupted under our feet with a torrent of water was released.

We were caught totally off guard; the sudden gush of water swept us of our feet. I managed to hold on and not get swept away, but the light and everyone else was.

I got my head out of the water and yelled; had they all been lost? I tried to climb out of the torrent, but it was too much.

I thought I heard Hartwell reply that they were fine. So, I let go my grip and cascaded down to where the others were.

It was black, but by voice and touch we were able to find each other.

I cleared my sidearm on instinct.

Wilhelm still had the lantern. By chance Grant had waterproof matches. We were again able to light our way.

We had no choice but to follow the flow, thigh deep to start with.

We’d now entered another large cavern, impossible to explore by the light of our lantern alone and hampered by the water we were wading through.

However, Hartwell with his keen eyes spotted a dim light off to the right.

We waded over, eventually coming out of water.

We emptied our boots, wrung out what we could and did our best to make dry what was needed. Firearms were all checked and cleaned. On the positive side it will have washed all the acid off.

The rest would have to dry as we went.

Our major problem was our foodstuffs were ruined.

The water had been unusually warm and had a strange taste in the mouth. Grant opined that it was like spa water.

A staircase led up the opening that glowed, we didn’t really have another opinion so ascended.

We reached an entrance to another cavern. Again, stalactites and mites. Again, a path and been cut thought the later. Not directly but clearly avoiding the larger obstacles.

Wearily we trudged down the path, not having spotted anything of consequence.

What a mistake we made! What a surprise we had! Grant looked upward to see what looked like giant termites or spiders holding the rifles I’d been so concerned about pointing at us!

They indicated for us to lower to drop our weapons. Clearly very sentient beings, able to use weapons and tools.

They had the advantage of cover and height.

Besides we weren’t there to start a war. We complied.

Moments later more of these armed creatures, about 5 feet long and 3 feet high, but clearly able to wield rifles, appeared fore and aft. They walked on 4 legs and wielded rifles in the other 2, limbs or arms.

I was seething, how had we walked into a perfect trap and not seen a thing?

Shortly afterwards, we were bound, which didn’t bode well. It was clear that they didn’t understand a word we were saying and indeed didn’t like us talking. They communicated by a series of clicking sounds, which made Dutch sound reasonable.

We were led off to the exit and then passed through various caverns, where we saw these ‘insects’ cultivating mushrooms.

There appeared to be some kind of hierarchy. The farmers, or labourers at the bottom. I think they are called ‘drones’ in the insect world.

Next are the guards and we saw plenty that were not armed, maybe ‘workers’?

Finally, there was a quite rare group that appeared to study us. I’m guessing these are the ones with any form of intellect.

Then we met the mad Russian doctor! He’s been alone down here a number of years, which may account for much of his eccentric behaviour, but I suspect he was a megalomaniac long before.

He greeted Grant, who he’d clearly met before. He’d been waiting many years for someone to turn-up.

In his madness he explained that the place was full of mineral wealth, ‘diamonds’ he declared repeatedly and drew out a large pouch of them, scattering them across them across his desk to make his point.

He planned to find and take Grant’s flyer, leaving with his treasure trove.

Quite how or why he thought Grant’s flyer would be in any condition to get him out of here, when his own had crashed so badly, I don’t know. What if he comes across Clarences’ flyer?

He explained that he’d needed a little ‘muscle’ down here to extract the diamonds, which is why he had bought the rifles. Somehow, he’d got his own little insect militia to impose his will.

He was almost gleeful in explaining that he’d had to eliminate the rest of his crew, who were loyal to the Tsar.

He also took delight in telling us that our fate would be to be left behind and that he wouldn’t be returning.

Then we were escorted to a cell under guard and keep there. A short while later our bonds were changed for manacles. This led me to question what kind of expedition, where space is limited, would have included manacles in their inventory?

We were attended on by one of the creatures which we supposed to be of the intellect. We were much surprised when he made a passing and halting attempt at English! It was brief, I endeavoured to engage him, but he was uninclined to converse more.

We had some chance at conversation between us and Grant said that the largest of those diamonds would be perfect to replace the one lost when we crashed at the heart of the ether engine. We also appraised that most of the diamonds were flawed and unlikely to bring the kind of fortune that madman was expecting.

While we had lost our weapons and much of our equipment, Wilhelm still had some of his inventions about him. We could in reality, if we effected things quickly and perhaps with a little difficultly, get out of this hole and be elsewhere.

But where and to what effect. We’d still need to remove the shackles anyway. Then we’d be hunted by these creatures.

There had been something in the conversation with the intelligent mind, who had talked about ‘nest’, to think he or they (who knows) might be persuaded to help.

The intellect returned periodically. Over a few short conversations, it became apparent that our mad Russian doctor, had initially gained influence by showing ‘the nest’ better ways and places to cultivate the fungus that they live off. I would then surmise that he’d staged something of a coup.

Meanwhile I’m afraid that we learnt that the other side of the canyon was considered dangerous and was sealed off as a consequence.

We needed to escape our bonds. We been in captivity for I would guess over a day, what was the mad Russian doing? What danger might Clarance be facing? Hartwell had listened carefully to their language and felt, while he could not translate, he understood the gist of what was being discussed. He felt it was the search for our flyer.

My backpack had been taken from me and so I no longer had my tool kit.

Wilhelm however keeps things closer on his person, he has the most ridiculous things hanging from his belt and elsewhere. I should add a rather fanciful hat, that is full of gadgets that he has invented.

In this instance it served us well, as it so often does. He had some tools that he could make into a lockpick at Hartwell’s instruction. Hartwell was a little coy on how he knew this, but it mattered not.

Some manacles were undone, but he broke the makeshift key in the lock on my arm before all were freed.

Wilhelm set to work again and produced another usable tool.

In short order our chains were no more than theatre props, except the one still around my wrist, but that wasn’t going to stop me wielding it like some medieval flail.

Again, the intellect returned. Finally, we got an understanding. The ‘nest’ was being effectively being held ransom by the evil doctor.

If we helped them, then the nest would help us.

There were a daunting 30 odd rifles arrayed against us.

But if we could pick them off in small parties, perhaps we’d have a chance. I reminded myself that I’ve faced worse odds.

The intellect engaged the 3 guards in conversation. Enough that we raced from our positions and attacked with surprise.

I was on the right, took a guard alone, swung with all my might and modesty prevents me describing how much mush there was.

The others swung equally as violently but to little effect. Indeed, Grant merely threw his chains in the air. He is clearly no combatant.

It became a little messy and the worse point was one of the guards managed to get a shot off. Although it did no physical damage, the risk was the noise was going to be heard. Something I’d hoped to avoid.

But now I’d got a Remington at my disposal from the guard I’d made a bit of a mess of, so was able assist the others and between us we put down the other 2 guards.

Wilhelm and Hartwell were able to claim rifles too.

We had a limited time to check ammunition and get into position before the relieving force arrived. 5 charged into the chamber. It should have been a duck shoot at the chamber entrance, but they moved much faster than we realised.

A brief fire fight ensued, but we emerged victorious.

A sixth guard emerged from the rear of the cavern, as the fight ended and was dead before it had chance to take in the scene.

With more rifles at our disposal, we were able to ensure our own were fully loaded, arm Grant, then hand to the remainder to the intellect.

He now hurried us out of a rear exit to another cave. An opening led off to what we were told was the ‘mine’. After some brief confusion, it became apparent that ‘drones’ were being forced to work in the mine under guard. It appeared our task was to free the drones, which of course meant killing the guards watching over them.

We were able to spy a little of the layout and the danger was the guards would use the drones for cover. That would put innocents in danger in a firefight. Tactically, there was nothing to be done. Wilhelm did suggest we appear behind them, but I felt we had the element of surprise and that move would be better kept in case we needed to extract ourselves.

So, it was that we charged in, picked our targets and fired. We stayed pretty much together and scored a deal of early success. Far from being able to use the drones as shields, the guards were left exposed when the panicked drones fled somewhere to the rear of the mine. I think we killed 8 of the blighters, but one ran off.

Not entirely without cost we had some minor wounds ourselves.

Now another threat appeared the panicked drones were stampeding back in our direction, hell bound on getting out of the mine. This wouldn’t been a problem if we hadn’t all been standing together in the narrow exit.

In an instant Wilhelm had us in the previous cave and we were easily able to move aside and let the force of the stampede pass us by. We gathered what had caused this reaction, more guards were coming from the back of the cavern, many more.

We set to defend the exit at its narrow point. In hindsight we were too close and should have given ourselves, maybe a fighting retreat. But Wilhelm wanted to try and shoot them in the exit tunnel, along with Grant, so were close to the exit. In truth it was as good a plan as any and I believe he did account for at least one, before they got to our cave.

They burst forth faster than we could stop them and within moments, we were facing superior numbers at short range and were spread across the cave. Wilhelm was hurt but healed himself, with a mask that he has invented that restores health almost immediately. Grant was grievously wounded and Hartwell was defying the slowly accumulating cuts that were appearing about him.

I confess I believe I was indebted to my uniform on a couple of occasions or I would have been in the same state. I will need to replace a button or two on return, it’s those sorts of moments when I miss poor Jones.

Wilhelm suddenly appeared supporting Grant alongside Hartwell and I. Then I’m afraid the world went rather dark. I remember the flash of a rifle before me and thinking, that’s a good shot, straight at me!

I came too on the floor back in the mine. Wilhelm was tending to me with his healing device. He’d moved us from the cave back into the mine and was now trying to revive us. What a wonderful resourceful fellow he is! I believe I owe him the finest of dinners and perhaps a bottle of the ’76 vintage.

Grant was down and out, Hartwell pale, heavily wounded and I doubt could have stood. Our situation had been perilous beyond measure, Wilhelm had without doubt saved us. As his healing device revived us breath by breath, those repulsive guards re-entered the mine, clearly searching for us.

Wilhelm had just enough time to restore both Hartwell and I to fighting condition and Grant near to, before we were spotted. We’d remained prone so harder to see.

The spotter was shot before it could fire and scattered across the mine as they were, the guards were easier to pick off. I do believe there was some anger and retribution in our fire!

We are now all fit and healthy, although I confess, I do feel significantly weaker after the wound I took. The intelligence tells us that the doctor has 3 rifles left guarding him.

It’s clearly time for a conversation on different terms.

Henry.

Interlude: The Caverns Under Luna

Captain Forsyth: A Letter

Moon stuck….

The ongoing letter that Henry writes to his brother Clarance, which is now addressed to his wife.

Dear Abigail,

I’ve scribbled a few notes as we have gone along, I hope these find you.

The chamber we found ourselves in was vast. Stalactites handing down to a rock-strewn floor.

There were 2 exits one which appeared to go up and the other down. Knowing that the rope bridge we had seen was well below us and that whoever had the survived the crash of Clarance’s ship had gone down, so that was the only logically way to go.

We felt a little heavier down here, but still incredibly light, maybe half of our true weight on earth.

We headed down and into another cavern blanketed with the glow fungus. I spotted those strange insect-like rats moving about, but they avoid us. Again, there was choice between going up or down through a fissure. We continued down.

The cavern we came too was dark, but thankfully Wilhelm has a lantern which he lit. A bright reflection came back from one part of cave. We entered and found the source of this reflection. It is a glass like mineral vein, we could spot of red further within it. Sadly, in the limited light I could not make out what it was, humble quartz or huge diamond or something in between.

My curiosity was peaked. Why had Clarence bought a geologist with him? What did he know and how?

Yet again exits up or down and again we descended.

Another cavern, with only one way out.

We have speculated on the formation of these vast chambers. They are mainly circular in shape. I have determined that they are not the result of water erosion, like say much of the Blue John cave system in the county of Derbyshire, or the better-known sections of Chedder gorge.

Rather we speculate and I confess with really little knowledge, that these may have been created by gas bubbles eons ago, perhaps when the moon was forming and cooling.

The next chamber was level, more illuminating fungus and moon rats running amok. Such was density and smell of the latter that we suspected a nest. While they avoid us, we suspected that should we stumble upon a nest, they would defend it. We therefore proceeded cautiously and in single file to reduce the possibility of such an encounter.

I should explain that the glowing fungus grows to about shin height, is like a blanket, so it hides the scurrying creatures from us. We hear them more than see them. It’s also quite hard work wading through this fungus stuff, a bit like wading through a corn field.

An exit led us to another chamber, which had clearly experienced a major rock fall. It was difficult to navigate and pick our way over and around, but we did so without incident, to an exit on the other side and proceeded to the next chamber.

Again, a carpet of glowing fungus, little else of interest but again an exit on the other side, this time higher up that was going to require a climb.

As we set out across the cavern floor, the fungus again making it hard going, I instinctively felt something was wrong underfoot. So apparently did Wilhelm who also stopped dead in his tracks.

Toe poking ahead gave us to understand there a sharp fall off. In short, a pit that we could have fallen into. The fungus had grown out of there to the same height as the rest, so the danger was hidden. It was the slightest of misalignment in these flowers that got my attention.

Wilhelm too. Thankfully we were alert enough to avoid this peril.

For the first time we had to climb to get out. I volunteered to go first with rope. I’m the best climber, not by much and no expert by any means, but it gives the others a much better chance of ascent if I can deploy a rope.

Another passage leading another chamber. More fallen rock to navigate. These chambers are huge. While I suspect we haven’t gone many miles, it has all been on difficult terrain. We have to maintain our concentration.

I should ask Grant, he has a watch and some kind of compass.

We’d done as much as we could. We were getting tired and it was time to rest, eat and sleep.

I’ve speculated a little on this crazy mass of chambers. They are connected by these kind tunnels that seem to replicate the main chambers, or by fissures that have opened up.

The latter are obvious. Rock falls caused by time and gravity, little as it is, who knows how long it’s had to do its work.

The best I can up with is that maybe some of these gas bubbles had weak spots that they expanded through.

We slept without a watch, there didn’t seem any need and we were all very tired. This type of terrain and concentration takes a lot out one, as I can testify.

The next ‘day’, who knows what night and day are anymore, we entered a large cavern.

With the option of exits requiring a climb or down, we opted for our usual approach. Except when looked down into the dark, with Wilhelms lantern, something was reflecting on the floor that glistened.

Hartwell, as sharp as ever, noted something moving on the ceiling.

When Wilhelm played his light up there, it was clear this was chamber full of bats.

We’d already encountered these; we knew they would attack if woken and it was a long way to the only exit we could see across the cavern. That was down and again the way we wanted to go. But we felt trying cross this chamber was very high risk.

We backtracked to the climb which was the other way out of the huge chamber we were in.

Again, I made the climb with rope and secured a way up for the rest of the party.

We passed through the tunnel and to our surprise it came out looking above a lake filled chamber! The illumination was a bit dim, with only fungi on the side in a limited amount, but good enough to our well-adjusted eyes.

There was an exit on the other side, water slowing appearing to disappear through a cave. But how deep and where did it lead and would we have any control if we went that way?

Hartwell stepped forward to test the waters. Modesty requires me to omit a small detail.

He climbed easily down, not really needing the rope provided.

He waded out to the point of needing to swim, felt a current, then made his way back.

He’d refilled our canteens, the moment he tasted the water.

He was shaking with cold and we had to haul him up with the rope. It took a while for him get warm and we used the opportunity to rest. We determined that that it was not practical to essay the water, aside the unknown position we would find ourselves, the water would probably ruin our equipment and weapons.

After that we were faced with two options. We either tried to essay the bat infested cave, or went a very long back, I thought in the order of nearly a day, to the nearest alternative branch that we hadn’t explored.

We rested again, climbed down and returned to the bat cave. Grant had a bit of a rush of blood to the head and took the lead. He let go of the rope part way down careered down and his momentum carried across the slick bat guano, which is what we seen glistening.

The idiot was hollering like crazy. Americans don’t seem to have much self-control, which is of course, instinctive to us British. (Or at least this one doesn’t.)

Wilheim climbed down and slid into a similar position, although he kept his feet.

It was clear that we could not traverse this cavern. We needed to get people out of there in case the bats woke up and attacked, which Grant seemed to be doing his best to invoke. Eventually we did this, but Grant in particular wanted to return to the lake to clean up.

We did so, filling water bottles in advance.

Then Grant realised had lost his water bottle in his slide down into the bat dung.

It was a very minor point that would have made no impact if we had been on campaign for example, but down here water was at a premium. I suspect there was also consensus that none of us really wanted to share a canteen with Grant.

We returned to the bat cave, spotted the errant bottle, in a pile of bat poo and were able to retrieve it without incident. Grant felt it unusable, given that it was heavily coated in a very unpleasant substance.

We returned yet again the lake cavern, once again I made the climb. Grant got to clean his canteen and once again we drank and refilled before he did.

Wilhelm pulled me aside; he is concerned that Grant is slowing us down. Certainly, he’d become rather vocal and annoying. It was clear that was maybe a little of friction between the two inventors.

I feel we are all a little stressed. Earlier, the first time we rested I confess I had moment when I could have been overwhelmed by it all, fearing the worst for Clarence, but simply humming the national anthem, reminded me what is to be British!

I assured my dear friend Wilhelm that I would a keen watch for any skullduggery, but Grant is our only hope of getting out of here. I feel he is being difficult, or perhaps stressed, or just the worse of American. I also allow he’s not used to these kinds of circumstances. Unlike us three average British citizens, who regularly face the unknown with our natural stoicism.

We climbed back down and returned to the bat cave, but with a very different idea. The great professor Wilhelm simply transported us across. Grant was mightily impressed, but still went on a bit.

In the next chamber the more obvious passage out led us to another lake. A waterfall cascaded from one side. We speculated that this could have been the overflow from the previous lake chamber. The outflow from this was clearly underwater, so we declared it a dead end.

For some time now, Wilhelm has been scratching marks on all the tunnel entries and exits. So, we should have no trouble retracting our steps. Then again, I have my writing bureau, so have been able to take notes so sorts, Grant seems to have been plotting the path and if all else fails, as you know my dear Abby Abi I can rely on my excellent memory.

Forestalled at the lake, not a comment I believe I’ve ever made before, we returned to the previous chamber and exited by the less promising looking fissure.

We found another cavern with a mineral vein in it. I wonder if that is why the Russians have returned repeatedly. Is there some value in this? The rats around us are now almost incidental.

Only one exit, which bought us again to a cavern with the edible fungus growing in it.

We ignored a fissure and carried on in what we though the right direction, but who can tell. We’ve been turned around so many times, heaven knows how far we have really descended.

This passage overlooked another cavern with a giant field of fungus. It’s hard to explain the scale of this strange system.

Exhaustion was again entering our veins. We stopped in the next passage and again believing there was nothing else and no danger down here fell asleep. How foolish of me to neglect my basic military instincts.

I was awoken by the sound of a single pistol shot. Indeed, it rang and echoed in the tunnel, almost deafening us all completely. I just caught the sight of one these giant caterpillar monstrosities with its head half blown away flailing at the edge of the tunnel before falling away to the cavern below. Hartwell’s pistol had smoke still tailing from the barrel. Some instinct had caused him to wake. He’d drawn and fired in one fluid motion all the more remarkable from lying in his sleep.

We know from previous encounters that these beasts are not the easiest to kill, it was on the sleeping Grant and would have surely done for him and it not been for Hartwell’s gallant intervention. So, this was the most remarkable shot in the circumstances.

In response we now posted watches and determined to sleep a little later by way of compensation. Wilhelm on first watch spotted any number of caterpillars in amongst the fungi in the cavern below us, which we’d need to traverse next.

I took middle watch. While I could see a couple of the beasts, I couldn’t see the others that Wilhelm tried to point out. Their appearance from afar is one of camouflage, they blend rather well with the fungus.

Although I tried to point out the creatures, when I handed over watch to Hartwell, he confessed he couldn’t see one.

However, we got to rest and then another cold breakfast. I think I may have to indulge in some devilled kidneys when I get back to the club.

We had some discussion about how to deal with the caterpillar infested cavern.

We could shoot most, if not all of the threat from our vantage point. We could wade across as usual and deal with threat as it arose. But the option we choose was to teleport across.

The next cavern had the grey edible mushrooms we’d encountered before. It’s I may say at best, an acquired taste, which may take some time, but gave us an opportunity to eat and replenish food stocks.

Worryingly we are starting to see evidence of corrosion on our boots and if you pardon the observation on gaters too. We know this glowing fungus has acidic properties and it’s clearly taking its toll. We pressed on to the next cavern.

As we waded through yet another chamber of glowing fungus, a giant centipede erupted out of the large glow mushrooms in front of us. We gather that the natural prey of these things is the rats, but they’ve certainly been interested in the newly presented human alternative.

We drew and fired, but not fast or effective enough before the thing had grabbed Grant in its giant mandibles and was squeeing the life out of him. At which point Hartwell put a huge hole in the thing and it was done for.

Thankfully were able to bring Grant round, once again Hartwell had saved him by means of some excellent shooting, but it was a close-run thing.

We reached the next passage and paused for break. We took what we regard to be lunch, but our next cavern is another bat filled one.

We have to find a way out of this indeterminable labyrinth soon. Blundering around these caverns, is just reducing our capacity. I believe it would take at least two days just to return to the original cavern and maybe more going uphill, before we even consider all the hazards we’ve managed to overcome.

I rather feel like we are trapped in that French writer’s novel, ‘Voyage au centre de la Terre’, published what 25 to 30 years ago? Now I’m starting to question if it was fiction, or did he know something? What was his name, Verde, or Verne, something like that.

I hope for better news, but given our distance I doubt it will be soon. Hope remains.

Henry.

Episode 62: Spelunking on Luna

The cavern the team were in seemed to be a giant bubble blown into the lunar regolith, approximately 50 yds across, with rubble strewn on the curved, dish-like floor, glowing green fungi adhering to the walls and stalactites peppering the ceiling. Water drooled down the walls, and the team could make out two circular openings, one that seemed to provide a path upward, the second a path downward.

Forsyth reasoned that the bridge connecting this side of the chasm with that against which his brother's aethership had crashed was lower down than their current position, and his co-adventurers agreed they should descend rather than travel upward.

The passageway they took connected with a dry cavern devoid of visible water but bearing a dense fungal carpet of mixed green glowing and brown (barely) edible types. Beneath the fungus they could see half a dozen lunar rats, which scuttled away from the earthmen. A fissure in the opposite side of the cavern led downward, and seemed to be the only option vis-a-vis exits in any case, so the party made for it and squeezed through.

The cavern the fissure connected to was dry and pitch dark. Wilhelm lit his lantern and the team could make out a glassy mineral vein of some kind running upward into the ceiling of the spherical chamber. It was, Grant said, as though the rock had foamed in some unthinkably distant past, then hardened before the bubbles could rise to the surface and "pop". The others pondered this as they spotted a second fissure high up on the opposite wall, and a circular portal leading down somewhat off to one side of that. The team made their way to the portal, noting as they crossed the rock-strewn floor that the glassy mineral vein had dark red inclusions deep inside it.

The portal was eventually reached, with only a growing sense of isolation to disturb the travelers Peace of mind. It led downward, and opened into another dry cavern with a carpet of green, glowing fungus and a visible fissure almost directly opposite them. The trip across this cavern was less silent, and rang with the echoing squeals of a considerable crowd of lunar rats as they scurried away from the Earthmen's boots.

The next cavern was dark, dry and featured a fissure up high in the opposite wall, below which a considerable quantity of rock and scree had slumped. There was also a circular portal entrance low down a little further around the cavern. Examination by means of Wilhelm's marvelous lantern showed nothing alive here, but the going was difficult as the floor was also a maze of fallen rock, and by the time the party had crossed to the portal Forsyth and Grant were feeling the effects of fatigue and bruising from countless tiny miscalculations while walking.

The portal opened into yet another bubble-like cavern, but this one was lit by the familiar green glow from the lunar fungi that thickly carpeted the floor and part of the walls. The only exit appeared to be a portal high in the opposite wall, so the team made for it. About halfway across Forsyth and Wilhelm each became suddenly nervous, and, alerted by this sense of looming disaster they spotted a small but deep pit hidden by the fungal carpet. A lucky escape, since someone could easily have turned an ankle in that concealed hazard. Forsyth led the team in the climb to the exit.

The revealed cavern was dry, and exhibited signs of a serious rockfall sometime in the antediluvian lunar past. The crossing to a circular exit low in the wall was tiring and the party became quite dispirited. Forsyth was tormented by thoughts of his poor brother's situation, but managed to pull himself together before he could descend into a funk. Realizing they were now running on sheer willpower the team decided that the connecting tunnel of this portal would make a good camp for the "night".

After the team had rested and slept (fitfully, it has to be admitted), they pushed on into the next cavern, which seemed to have no obvious water supply yet hosted a carpet of mixed green and grey fungi. A fissure had opened high in the wall to one side, and a low circular portal exit offered a chance to descend further, which the team decided to use.

The next cavern brought the team up short. No fungus. No water. A prominent golden mineral vein ran down the wall. But the ceiling was infested by what looked like hundreds of Lunar Bats! Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour our heroes backtracked to the previous cavern and crossed to the fissure.

Climbing up confronted the team with a situation that could very well have demoralized even the hardiest of explorers. The cavern opening off the tunnel accessed via the fissure was flooded. The heroes looked down on a sizable lake. Fungus was growing on the walls, casting the usual wan, green light. The lake had no obvious source, but was draining through a tunnel directly across from the perplexed adventurers.

After Hartwell had taken a dip to clean himself and dried off, the team backtracked once again to the previous cavern, and once again they cross to the portal and return to the cavern with the bats.

The bats seemed to be sleeping, so Grant, rather foolishly, climbed down to the cavern floor, where he immediately lost his footing and fell. The floor, it turned out, was covered with a thick, slimy layer of wet bat guano, which was incredibly slick.

Grant began to complain loudly - rather too loudly for the adventurers' comfort. Wilhelm followed Grant down and managed to keep his feet - just, but slid a good distance on the curved, slick floor. Forsyth threw each a rope and he and Hartwell hauled the stranded pair back to the fissure. Grant was a pitiful sight.

There was nothing for it but to undertake yet another crossing of the previous cavern, return to the lake and clean themselves. Just as they are making camp for the "night" Grant discovers he has lost his canteen.

The next "day" the team once again lowered themselves into the previous cavern, crossed to the cavern with bats where they could clearly see Grant's canteen half buried in the muck on the floor. Grant rigged a rope and climbed down, retrieved his canteen and the others pulled him back up, all without waking the sleeping bats.

Once again the heroes crossed to the fissure, climbed up and returned to the lake, where Grant washed off his canteen. A heated discussion broke out on the subject of options, probably made more heated by the prospect of a seventh crossing of the cavern below them. It was mutually agreed that perhaps a one hour lunch break was called for.

Once again the team retraced their steps to the cavern with the bats, where Wilhelm was about to save the day. After some muttered calculations, Wilhelm tersely instructed the others to gather around him, and he activated his miraculous teleportation device.

The entire team was engulfed in crackling green energy, then with a snap they vanished and a similar display of green lightning erupted at the portal low in the wall of the bat-infested cavern. Everyone was amazed that the noise and light of their journey had not woken these seemingly comatose bats, but the pseudo-bats remained obstinately (and fortunately) asleep throughout.

Walking through the tunnel in which they now found themselves our heroes perhaps wondered why it had taken so long (and so many trips across that blasted cavern that their boots surely could have made the trek without them) to light upon using the teleportation device. In any case, each, for his own reasons, let the matter rest.

Soon the Earthmen's eyes were feasting upon tghe sight of another cavern with no running water yet hosting a carpet of the glowing green fungus. They could hear Lunar Rats scurrying around on the floor, hidden from view, but by now were so familiar with these timid beasts that they felt no qualms about pressing forward. A fissure high up the wall offered a way up, and a portal low in the wall some small distance around the cavern circumference offered the preferred route down.

For the second time the Earthmen found themselves looking at a large lake, but this time with no obvious drain. They decide, with sinking hopes

to backtrack to the previous cavern.

Re-traversing the fungal carpet and nervously probing for hidden pitfalls to the sound of skittish lunar rats, they make their wy to the scree slope under the fissure high in the wall, and climb up into it.

The revealed dry cavern showed a broad mineral vein running down its walls in several places, glassy with dark red inclusions. A small pack of lunar rats scurried away from the light cast by Wilhelm's lantern. Only one exit presented itself, a fissure set midway up a wall almost opposite them. The heroes made for this with some groans of fatigue.

Another dry cavern filled with a mixture of green glowing and filthy brown (but edible in extremis) fungus. A circular portal was set low in the wall opposite. While making for this exit. Wilhelm twisted his ankle and the team took this as a sign that they should camp for the "night" after they examined the next cavern, which had a carpet of glowing green fungus. They could see a fissure high in the walls at "three o'clock" and a portal set low at "ten o' clock".

Exhausted, the team soon fell asleep, but Grant was attacked during the night by a giant lunar caterpillar. Fortunately, Hartwell was woken by the sound of its clawing legs attempting to gain purchase on the loose rock in their tunnel campsite, grabbed his trusty pistol and blew it to kingdom come! The adrenaline pumping in each heroes veins was a clarion call for safety procedures, and they set watches. Fortunately, there were no more uninvited visitors to their camp.

The next "day", Wilhelm used his miraculous teleportation device to carry the entire team to the portal, where the team were able to see a dry cavern carpeted with grey fungus, with an exit portal set low in the opposite wall.

Crossing this cavern was uneventful until the team noticed the clear signs of acid burns on their boots and gaiters. Hurrying out of the grey fungus they entered a dry cavern filled with green glowing fungus and were heading for the only other portal set low in the wall some distance away when the team were ambushed by a lunar caterpillar! A furious fight with the unwholesome beast developed, during which the caterpillar was dispatched but not before it had dealt Dr Grant a lethal bite! Wilhelm leapt into action with his marvelous healing machine and somehow managed to revive Grant and heal the grievous injury that had been dealt to him by the monster!¹

It was disheartening for the team to be confronted with yet another cavern with only a portal set high in the opposite wall. The mineral vein running down the wall at "three o'clock" was interesting, but the ceiling full of sleeping lunar bats was distinctly problematical.

What would the team do now?

1. Professor Wilhelm was certainly proving his worth on this tedious expedition, having managed to carry the team past several hazards unscathed and provided much-needed medical services. Likewise, if not for Hartwell's swift and lethal gunplay the team could well have been killed while they slept. Forsyth was a rock to steady the team despite the worry over his brother's fate, and Dr Grant had, of course, supplied the method of actually landing on the forbidding surface of Luna. Such is the nature of all hazardous expeditions, with each member playing a crucial part, earning his or her food and water rations the hard way.↑

Captain Forsyth: A Letter

Fly me to the moon….

The ongoing letter that Henry writes to his brother Clarence, which may be about to become irrelevant!

Dear Abigail,

I regret that we are now out of heliograph contact. I hope you’ll forgive these scribbled notes as I go. We found the Glow! It’s a giant fissure in the moon’s surface that does indeed emit a glow.

We descended down this giant canyon for something in the order of 30 miles, before our ship got into difficulties. The atmosphere had increased, so the eather drive began to struggle.

In short order, Grant was fighting with his ship. We hit the wall, almost landed on a ridge, but tumbled onto a lower one where we came to rest. The pressurisation was all wrong and the hull popped a few rivets, which were easy to repair.

Incoming air was breathable, cold and damp. That was all good news. It meant we didn’t have to expend air supplies and there possibly a source of water.

Looking about there was nothing but that glow below us. This fissure clearly went a long way further down, we didn’t have any sense of the bottom. The hydrogen balloon that should have easily elevated us out here, had failed on deployment.

But again, it was repairable. We concluded repairs with a degree of confidence that we could fly out.

However, the essential diamond at the heart of the engine was shattered. How could we possibly get a replacement?

But what of this fissure? Things had got a bit mashed up with the crash. But this was just so curious and I can’t resist that kind of challenge. Besides I was still looking for Clarence.

We’d got rope and climbing gear, so started to descend, following strict climbing protocol to ensure none of plunged to our deaths.

I’d have loved to abseil down, but Wilhelm and Hartwell are less versed in mountaineering. That may have proven better in the long run. As it made us more cautious.

Slime was our first problem – and encouragement. It made grip a tab more difficult, but told us there had to water somewhere.

Day after day, we climbed down. We found edible mushrooms and thereafter the source of ‘the glow’.

It was another fungus of a different hue, that gave off a translucent effect. We’d found the source of the glow! It wasn’t strong but just the sheer volume of it was enough to create good illumination, all be it in a strange cast of light.

Wilhelm was nearly lost, when his rope crossed one these not quite mushroom type glow things and it secreted a very powerful acid. It burnt through the rope in very short order.

Wilhelm managed to grab an out crop of rock and save himself.

Another day climbing down. Now we found to answer to the question ‘is there life on Luna’, suddenly we had a cloud of batlike creatures around us. Nasty devils, with sharp teeth all over you. We were on a narrow ledge so evasion wasn’t possible.

I heard shots ring out and a couple of splats, but there were far too many for that. I grabbed a couple of them and slammed together, but to little avail.

There were too many, taking them in ones or twos wasn’t enough.

I’d been bitten to ribbons. Wilhelm had the answer as he so often does. His ‘gubber gun’ accounted for a fair many and a second shot effectively did for the rest.

Wilhelm has also rebuilt his healing device, I believe at great personal cost, which now cured me.

We continued the endless climb.

We were now aware of the need to avoid or clear the glowing fungus. An observation was made that the bat like creatures we’d swatted aside were being absorbed by the fungus at a very fast rate.

Further down we encountered some odd creatures that for all the world I would have called rats, except they looked more like insects. Size of rats, but an insect type of structure.

We continued down, it was harder going than you can imagine, there was little hope but no other option.

Eventually we came upon the wreck of the lost Russian flyer, clearly wrecked. Curiously the ship had been stripped of any machinal or electrical parts. Significantly there were abandoned rifle crates with the Remington company logo clearly on them.

We concluded from the cyclic writing that this was the lost ship of Vladimir Tereshkova of Russia. Why he should transport arms into the unknown is a matter of speculation.

However, it strikes me, with my military training, that you would only do this if you had the troops to arm them with. He has made many journeys here before.

Have the Russians discovered something of import and tried to set up a defence?

Or is there something far more to moon than we suspected?

One thing was clear, in order to gut this ship effectively, the survivors - or someone else, must have had access to food and water. We had hope!

No sooner had we settled than we were attacked! A strange giant caterpillar creature with mandibles and a gaping maul. As it advanced on us Hartwell put a bullet through it, creating a big hole and catapulting it over the side of the ledge.

I should explain that were climbing from ledge to ledge, finding place to rest, when our exertions were enough. But now it was noticeable that our path down and the ledges had been cleared of any harmful fungus.

Down further, another ledge, another stop to sleep and another giant caterpillar type creature. It attacked Wilhelm, whereon he whisks out his rapier and lances the head of the thing! He’s a scientist for heavens sake. I carry a sword as part of my uniform, but I’ve barely drawn in anger.

Down again, then there is another damaged flyer across the cavern. Playing my telescope across it I made out it’s insignia ‘The Moth’!

I’d found a trace of Clarence, my brother’s craft. Ropes led down from the craft, so there was hope.

The chasm was too wide for any thoughts of crossing.

We continued our aching descent, was no end to this chasm?

We were attacked again by another of these huge caterpillar creatures that are extremely fast and can climb the vertical surfaces with ease. I took a nasty bite, but Wilhelm has recreated his marvellous healing device and I was back to right in no time.

Following the ropes descending from the Moth, I did spy a corpse on an opposite ledge. It was too badly degraded to identify. But ropes continued down, so hope remains.

Finally, we hit a ledge that had a cave leading off it. Looking down the chasm there is a rope bridge linking to the other side of the chasm and still no sign of the bottom. Clearly there are people living here, but who and quite what they may be, we are yet to discover. The Russians and their rifles pose a big question.

Much as it would have been nice to reach the bridge it was still a long way down and off to the side, which would have involved the traversing along the chasm wall.

The cave seems like the better option. The fungus is present and provides illumination. A short way in it opens into a circular chamber. Stalactites and stalagmites abound.

We go on.

An emergency telegraph message via heliograph, to Mrs. Abigail Forsyth.

Dearest Abigail,

On return from my latest sojourn, I was confronted with the dreadful news regarding Clarence.

I can imagine that only something of the greatest import would have enticed him on such an endeavour.

Rest assured that I will be travelling to moon and beyond, if necessary, in search of him. The means I have to determine, but this I will do upon my honour.

Clarence was ever a resourceful fellow, so I will not countenance his demise. Time and distance are against me, but one has to live in hope.

I know the estate is good order and your keen mind will keep it so, you should not want.

Yours dutifully,

Henry

Later:

Dear Abigail,

I have tracked down an inventor here on Mars that has built a new design of ether ship, capable of landing on the moon. We have provisioned it with that we think necessary, no doubt will have forgotten something, but haste is of essence.

We leave for the moon shortly. The inventor is a Doctor Grant, of Colorado, USA. In my brief time there, I did hear of him, a good reputation for improving farming, but his moon craft was clearly too much for an uneducated rural populace and he relocated here, to our great good fortune.

Wilhelm are Hartwell are accompanying me. To my chagrin it belated occurs to me that I had not asked them. You might say that we are rather like those characters out of that French author’s book, Dumas. The Mouseteers, although I’m not I have the translation correct. Anyway, as they say “oil for one and once in a hall”.

I will make good on my promise. We will also follow the same path as Clarence and send regular updates on our progress via heliograph.

Yours dutifully,

Henry Forsyth

Last message:

Arrived at moon, no signs of Moth on surface heading to the dark side and the glow. Following the path of the Moth.

Interlude: Luna - A Brief History

Luna

The Earth’s nearest neighbor,circling resolutely a mere 300,000 miles away, has to date been far more elusive than the much more remote worlds of Venus and Mars.

Ethereal navigators have been put to the test merely setting their vessels down on a world with no atmosphere,and every indication is that Luna has no particular wealth or prospects to offer the ambitious Earthmen buzzing past in favor of richer worlds.

Telescopic observations from the Earth have been confirmed by firsthand examination of the facts: Luna is a barren world without atmosphere or water, trod upon for the first time by scientists wishing to unlock the doors of knowledge with Edison’s remarkable key.

Specifically, Luna is a ball of rock 2160 miles in diameter with a surface area of 14.5 million square miles, approximately equal to that of Asia. Its terrain, as can be seen from Earth, is mostly mountainous and cratered, and speculation that much of this is due to meteor impacts over time appears to be correct.

The gravity at the surface of this tiny world is only one-sixth that of the Earth, allowing for tremendous acrobatics for those willing to brave the deadly vacuum in specially adapted suits.

Navigational Difficulties

ETHER FLYERS used for commerce Venus generally take advantage of the atmospheres of those worlds to get from orbit to surface. Both liftwood and hydrogen help make the vessel “lighter than air,” letting it settle to the surface or rise to orbit using the atmosphere as a buoyancy medium. Luna, however, has no air to be lighter than, rendering liftwood and hydrogen useless. The only alternative for getting to its surface is to use the ether propeller, a device whose speeds are measured in millions of miles per day, to navigate the delicate distance between orbit an surface.

Obviously, the typical ether propeller is hardly sensitive enough for such precise maneuvers, and only the very best pilots will even attempt a landing on a vacuum world like Luna.

Earthmen on Luna

LUNA WAS first visited by Sir William Otterbein, in an ether flyer designed by himself and his Italian assistant, Luigi Piachetti, and financed by his estates and by industrialists in London wishing to find cheap sources of iron ore.

Otterbein managed to land his flyer in Mare Imbrium without significant damage. He and his assistant then set out to establish that Luna does suffer from “Moonquakes,” that the surface, at least in the so-called “seas,” is very dusty and difficult to traverse, that the surface gravity is quite low, and that there is no atmosphere.

After his return trip, analysis of samples found them almost barren of useful materials, and Otterbein’s industrial backers pulled their support out from under him. He never returned to Luna.

Others have, however, including Brian Masterly of Great Britain, the Davis brothers of Philadelphia, and Vladimir Tereshkova of Russia. The latter made a total of five trips to Luna for the Czar, the final one (from which he never returned) in 1887.

All the scientific data gathered have confirmed suspicions that Luna is of little value. No permanent facilities exist on Luna, and by 1889,visits there are extremely infrequent.

The Glow

RUMORS ABOUT hidden treasures, great wealth in diamonds, and indeed the existence of so-called Selenites, or Moonmen, have passed between space mariners for years. To date, none of them have been borne out despite several visits to Luna over the last two decades. Still, such rumors die hard, and many people persist in their belief that there is more to Earth’s Moon than meets the eye.

“The glow” is a particular event which many explorers and ether pilots claim to have witnessed on the far side of Luna. They claim that, if one is in the right position, a faint glow can be seen on a particular part of the far side. The glow is barely a pinprick as seen with the unaided eye, but telescopic observers claim the glow area may actually be anything up to a mile across. Its greenish-white light has never been scientifically examined.

Rumor has it that the Russians have more information about the glow, but, frankly, they aren’t talking.

It is also rumored that Vladimir Tereshkova was investigating the glow on his fateful trip of 1887.

The text of this post is taken from the original Space 1889 rulebook, Copyright by Frank Chadwick, now published by Heliograph.

No challenge to asserted rights is intended by reproducing this extract.

Episode 61: Bad News in Syrtis Major

[p Upon returning to Syrtis Major Forsyth was met by a Colonial Office official who let slip that his brother had apparently taken it upon himself to join an expedition to Luna¹ and that contact with the expedition had been lost and the ship was feared lost with all hands!

Forsyth was understandably taken aback by this news, that had been reported in The Syrtis Major Times-Courant by none other than Phoebe Carter-Lloyd.

Hartwell and Wilhelm rallied around their stricken friend and vowed to do all in their power to assemble a resue mission. No-one spoke of what all must have felt; that this could be a mission to recover the remains of the expedition members.

A major problem with exploring the Moon is that it has no atmosphere. An aethership uses lighter-than-air gas in an inflatable dirigible envelope to land gently and to take off, as approach with an operating aether propeller would be suicidal due to the extremely high speeds produced.

For reasons not understood, liftwood does not function on Luna either.

So why go there?

For many years, scientists have been perplexed and fascinated by an odd display, called "The Glow" that can be seen illuminating the edge of the Moon under certain circumstances, and speculation as to its nature has fueled interest by foolhardy explorers using questionable "cutting edge" technologies to visit Earth's satellite. As of yet, none have returned to tell of their adventures.

Other than that, the Moon seems nothing more or less than a lifeless ball of rock, and since other, more accommodating worlds² are available for exploration, tourism and resource and mineral exploitation, Luna has been seen as an object best seen through a telescope or gazed at from a punt on the Cam with one's sweetheart.

It seemed that Forsyth's brother had joined his fate to one of those crackpot inventors of a ship, the Moth, with "cutting edge technology".

The team were at something of a loss, for the Moon was around 100 day's journey from Mars, and when they got there they had no way of making a landing.

But then they learned of Dr Cyrus Grant, formerly of Arizona, lately somewhat down on his luck after word of his new Aether Propeller had gotten around the farmer and rancher community he had served so well with his contraptions, and having decided that he did not need that sort of grief from ingrates, and in possession of a fully functional aethership equipped with the Grant Propeller, now resident in Syrtis Major - albeit in a rather rundown district.

Grant's aether propeller was, it was claimed, capable of close approach and landing on Luna, although why anyone would want to visit that benighted place Grant couldn't say. The Grant Propeller's chief attraction was that it was capable of interplanetary flight at a distinctly higher speed than an Edison model.

When the team visited Grant he was receptive, but informed them regretfully that his ship was grounded for want of a diamond core, a vital component of the Grant Propeller.

Wilhelm got some details and was surprised to find out that gem-quality was not required,though the size of crystal required was not inconsiderable. He assured Grant that he would be able to source such a stone³ and all that was left was to provision the expedition.

Grant's machine proved every bit as capable as its inventor had claimed, and though the journey was by turns tedious and a source of d___able frustration and worry for Forsyth, eventually the Grant Flyer approached the Moon and Grant began to demonstrate the aerobatic ⁴ qualities of his aether propeller were not exaggerations or bravado.

Searching the surface with a powerful searchlight showed no evidence of a crash, but it was not long before the heroes saw The Glow, and hey steered the ship toward it, where they discovered a massive chasm in the crust of the Moon.

Hypothesizing that this would have been where Clarence's attention would have been drawn, the team directed Grant to descend into the chasm.

The team were amazed to discover that there was light of a sort coming from the walls each side of them. Some creature or plant, perhaps, was emitting a low level greenish glow that was getting brighter as they dropped into the depths of the chasm.

It seemed they had solved the mystery of The Glow.

Suddenly Grant announced they were descending rather more quickly than he could account for - or control! He suspected that there was air in the chasm, which was disrupting the working of his aether propeller, and quickly deployed the gas buoyancy envelope, but it was too late and the ship crashed onto a large ledge on the starboard side cliff wall.

After picking themselves up, the adventurers made an assay of their ship's condition, which was not good.

The gasbag had been ruptured, which would require a repair if they were ever to lift off again since the presence of an atmosphere - confirmed now - meant the aether propeller would not work. There were some small rents in the hull, which would be easy to fix if a short trip - say back to Earth - were contemplated. Worse of all, the diamond crystal had shattered and would have to be replaced.

The most immediate problem was food and water, and after a discussion it was decided that climbing down seemed the only logical choice. No-one was coming to rescue them, after all, and Clarence might very well be alive somewhere down there.

Gathering as much food and water as they could carry, and some basic climbing gear that they had brought along, the team began to descend the dizzying drop, so deep they could not make out the bottom despite the presence of ample light now their eyes had adjusted.

The climb down was a fearful, days-long affair.

During the descent the team discovered two kinds of mushrooms that were edible, if unpleasant-tasting, and one that contained acidic juice when Hartwell's safety rope was eaten through.

They were harassed by various strange fauna including giant caterpillar-like animals and swarms of bat-like creatures. It was during one such attack that they discovered that the "Lunar Bats" could be repelled by the acid fungus, though the risk to their own human skin was considerable.

After a few days the team came across the wreck of an aethership, but it was not that of Clarence Forsyth. It had been stripped of everything, including the interior furnishings, which was suggestive.

Further down, the team were able to see with the aid of binoculars the wreck of the Moth on a ledge on the other side of the chasm. No movement was visible, and it was impossible to cross the vast distance separating the team from the wreck, so they continued downward.

On perhaps the 12th day, having descended around 10 miles into the Lunar interior, the team came to the entrance to a cave. In the distance ahead of hem hey could see a primitive rope bridge connecting their side of the canyon to the other, but each end appeared to lead to caves in the sheer walls rather than a ledge.

Forsyth reasoned that if he were to reach the wreck of the Moth he would need to cross that bridge, and that to do that he would need to find the cave it was anchored to.

So the team entered the cave in front of them.

1. The Moon↑
2. the reader may interpret much hyperbole here, and opine that the term "more accommodating" is doing some heavy lifting↑
3. if from nowhere else, there might be a suitable gem in his collection from Bordobaar, currently languishing in a vault in Lloyd's of Syrtis Major↑
4. selenobatic?↑

Captain Forsyth: A Letter

An ongoing letter from Captain Henry Forsyth (Royal Engineers) to his brother.

The Duel

My Dearest Brother,

Once again, I offer my dearest facilitations and trust you and the family are all well.

I am pleased to tell you that that the duel that poor Wilhelm was subjected to has been resolved.

The good professor had several options, with one being a team duel. Naturally I did not stint to support my colleague and dare I say good friend. Hartwell was likewise minded. So, the three of us were to face an unknown adversary in an unknown place. Only the timing was in our control. Wilhelm wanted enough time to reinvent one of his devices, which he duly did.

I used the time to create some ordinance, which I felt might be useful. I also found an old cavalry cuirass, which I had modified and reinforced to suit myself.

Hartwell was ambushed by knife wielding thugs on the street. It seems the intent was to wound him, for having stabbed him the assailants ran off. Robbery or murder were therefore not the motive. We suspect this dastardly noble was behind the attack and designed to weaken us. In the event Hartwell had plenty of time to recover.

In the interim we resolved to only go out in company and be more cautious.

Research into our adversary only reinforced what we expected. A petty minor noble, with a grudge, managing to stay on just the right side of legality.

In the event this coward didn’t appear in the field himself. He sent 3 proxies, leather clad, masked and much like the adversaries we have faced before. We know these to be highly capable, fast and deadly.

It is my thought that there must be a training centre for these elite assassin’s.

We were transported via kite into a typical Martian boulder strewn plain and the game began.

Having seen these operators before, I felt our best chance lay at range, where our Winchesters (replacements bought at some cost) could be bought into play. We therefore opted for the area that gave the most open range for fire, while looking out for the foe.

While we stuck together, they hunted independently, we had brief ideas of shadows crossing the terrain, mostly from Wilhelm using one of his inventions.

Then they had clearly spotted us, an arrow hit Hartwell, but only in the strap of the knapsacks we were carrying. One assailant was now known at range to the south-east, I heard another moving to the south and Wilhelm was trying to track one to the east.

It then became apparent they were using some kind of invisibility device, all but one.

That one charged our position, in hindsight I suspect to draw our fire so his fellows could come into close combat, which is where their skill lays.

I felt sure I’d got the blighter with one shot, but he had the devil’s own luck as my shot deflected off his sword.

Arrows were coming in from all directions, thankfully none of them hit home, close on a few occasions, but we did note damp smears on rocks where they hit. The cads were using poison!

How outrageously unsporting!

Hartwell was firing south at some adversary I couldn’t see, so dodged out at the one we could see and took him down.

Next thing there is one of these leather clad dervishes next to Hartwell, with two blades flashing about, in close to a noon day sun.

Wilhelm ‘gubbers’ him, that is to say he has this gun that fires some kind glue that can trap an individual for a time, a bit like a fly in a spider’s web, although the trapped maybe able to break free. It will also degrade with time.

Then another of these deadly swordsman appears out of nowhere next to me and suddenly I’m also trying to fend off flashing blades. Thankfully my new armour proved it’s worth, although I was taken aback by the ferocity of the assault.

Wilhelm had the right strategy at this point. Calling Hartwell to him he moved next to me and by strange mean of his miraculous device moved us all south in a blink, to once again we could operate at range.

From before the start of the encounter I had identified this as our advantage and close combat as theirs.

I confess I was usually badly shaken from the minor wounds I’d received. Plus, while the strategy of moving us is one I would have shouted out, being suddenly in combat, then not, discombobulated me.

Meanwhile Wilhelm used his ‘gubber’ gun to fix an assailant to a rock and Hartwell, fine shot that he is, did the rest.

Recovering from my stupor, I thought I saw an image running a bit to my right. I’m really rather proud of my improvised hand thrown explosive charges, we used them to great effect in defence of Fort McMurray.

Playing cricket has proved useful at last. It something of an overarm lob. But I put my improvised throwing bomb exactly where I wanted. It worked far more effectively than I expected. That was the last assailant dealt with.

At least no brotherhood marks were found on the assailants. I’m curious as to whether this elite group religiously or fanatically driven. Or are they just plain old-fashioned mercenaries?

Back in what passes for civilisation in this part of the solar system, a grovelling apology was duly received from the petty Martian noble. Wilhelm followed form and made a gracious acceptance, although I rather feel it was through clenched teeth.

Who knows how this will play the Martian population at large. There are those who will see the honourable outcome and an increase in Wilhelms’ already considerable reputation. However, there maybe also be those who still heed the false accusations, doubtless those bigoted, biased and unreasonable individuals, who fail to see the benefits of benign British rule.

God save the Empress!

Henry

Episode 60: The Duel

[p Wilhelm set a date that gave him plenty of time to build a new Healing Engine, while his friends gathered supplies and searched out heir favourite forms of self-defense.

When the date arrived, Lord Arapiranth's kite appeared and the heroes, accompanied by various observers, boarded. There they saw for the first time that Lord Arapiranth had elected to use proxies for this duel (as was his right). Three black-garbed characters of sinister and familiar aspect skulked on he main deck. Were hey former Brotherhood assassins as heir garb suggested? Perhaps our heroes would have a chance to find out.

The kite sailed for a remote area of steppe and broken ground, and each party was dropped off in a chosen location kept secret from their opponents.

Wilhelm allowed Forsyth to pick the manner of their tactical deployment, which was a small clearing guarded on three sides by rock outcroppings giving cover. Forsyth signaled for a silent wait with heightened vigilance. Each hero took one sector of ground to cover, and their long, tedious watch began.

It wasn't long before certain sounds made Wilhelm aware that their opponents were using Weird Science devices - and Wilhelm feared the most likely conclusion (given their situation) was some sort of invisibility device!

If these d____d Martian bounders were not only trained assassins, but capable of attacks while invisible they were in a situation that wouldn't do at all.

Unfortunately, it was soon after this realization that Hartwell broke silence and gave away heir position to the enemy, who quickly converged on our brave lads.

One stroke of good fortunes was that one Shadowy Figure had inordinate trouble with his various devices and so was easily spotted.

Another was that the keen eyes of Hartwell were up to the task of locating another, even though he was invisible.

Exchanges of fire took place, with the Shadowy Figures using bows and the stalwart Earthmen more modern longarms. Near misses and lucky hits on Sam Browne belts soon led to the suspicion that the Shadowy Figures were using poisoned arrows in addition to their unsporting technology. Clearly the gloves were off.

The fight was desperate at times, but by a combination of luck, skill and sheer British Pluck our heroes were able eventually to dispatch all their opponents, who upon quick examination bore no obvious Brotherhood tattoos.

They were picked up by the kite, and Lord Arapiranth delivered a formal declaration of apology, which meant that from a protocol standpoint the matter was at an end, and honour was satisfied.

No-one was under any illusions that this was an end to the gossip of Wilhelm's perfidy, or of Lord Arapiranth's enmity.

Episode 59: Back to Civilization and Yet More Trouble

The crash had broken the back of the kite, and nothing was to be done about that.

Fallen masts and rigging fouled what was left of the decks, and the crew was either dead or absconded into the steppe, there to continue their ground-cleanser activities with no further impedence from the thrice-damned Earthmen.

The heroes swiftly divided up into teams in order to loot what supplies they could, with Forsyth rather optimistically seeking out materials for a construction project: a flying lifeboat in which to return to civilization.

Actually, this was not an altogether unfeasible plan, but it was interrupted by the post-crash behaviour of the wreck, which though non-viable as a kite was still bouyant in detail.

Forsyth was alerted when Mr Wiseman let out a yell and leapt for the safety of the steppe. Forsyth followed suit, which turned out to be a splendid idea.

The deck of the bow section gave a shudder, and freed of most of its clutter, rose into the air, tumbling slightly as it did so due to the weight of the cast-iron bow canon still mounted at the prow, though not for long.

The deck swiveled vertically and the artillery piece fell from it, to crash into the steppe with an almighty thump, though this was partially drowned out by the stentorian sounds of the bow section of the kite disintegrating, scattering a benison of non-liftwood components around the site with scant regard for the health of those cowering on the steppe below.

Fortunately there were no casualties.

As Forsyth and Wiseman watched the enormous liftwood panels from the bow section sail off into the sky, they were allerted by they more sounds of possible injury by post-shipwreck when the stern of the kite performed a similar lift off, aerial ballet and potentially disastrously lethal disintegration.

Fortunately, Wilhem and Hartwell had had the good sense to leap off and take cover.

Forsyth buried the body of the faithful Jones as best he could, which amounted to making a cairn over the body and a crude marker. A few words were said in lieu of a service, and that concluded the sad business.

Of the trip back to Moerus Lacus, let us say little. Suffice to comment that the journey was terse, difficult, unpleasant, to be avoided at all costs in the future, not to be written home about, and not one for the books (as it were).

On making their report to the British authorities, the team were informed they had best make all speed for Syrtis Major and report to the Colonial Office, which they did, taking a barge along the grand canal connecting the two cities (all were somewhat wary of flying and heartily sick of walking).

Events in Syrtis Major were interrupted by A Martian Noble arriving by small flyer and a herald disembarking and publicly demanding loudly to meet Professor Wilhelm, Despoiler of Bordobaar and Thief of Martian Heritage Treasures.

Wilhelm obliged by meeting with the Herald, observed by a large crowd of Martians and curious Earthmen and Women.

The herald then unrolled an ornate scroll and began reading in a loud, accented English voice:

Be it known that Lord Arapiranth does declare to all that the following be true and answerable crimes:

That the thief Wilhelm did enter the ancient Martian City of Bordobaar with many Earthman accomplices.
That the thief Wilhelm then conspired with them to construct diverse unholy technological devices to put aside the holy wards set from time immemorial as protection for the many valuable and holy relics kept within the mighty vault of Bordobaar.
That the thief Wilhelm did cause the death of the Holy Guardian, the manifestation on Mars of The Worm, by forbidden dark sorcery, thereby tainting the treasures within with the shadow of heresy.
That the thief Wilhelm did divide up the spoils of his most vile theft with sundry other Earthmen, each of whom has met a most deserved and grisly death before their alloted time had they not corrupted their essence by accepting the gifts of Wilhelm.
That the thief Wilhelm has used the wealth he has amassed by his ignoble and base actions to murder uncounted innocent Martians, this being reported by numerous reliable Martian witnesses of unimpeachable character.

Be it declared that unless the thief Wilhelm be surrendered to the justice of Lord Arapiranth immediately and without reservation, his lordship will call for a most deserved Holy War against the British interlopers, who have for too long sheltered the scum of their so-called civilisation here on Mars, and by this omission of action have been the proximate cause of much misery and illegal activities to the cost of the Martian people.

The herald then rolled the scroll back onto its wooden rod and offered it distainfully to Wilhelm, who refused to take it.

The herald sneered something in Martian¹, tossed the scroll to the ground at Wilhelm's feet, turned and left.

Wilhelm also left, and after a small debate with the others, sought help from his lawyer at Messrs. Boots, Boets, Bowts, Boets, Marchinup & Downagin, where he was informed that this was an archaic form of Martian challenge, and a perfectly legal one too. The options were many, including submitting to Martian judgement which Mr Boets felt to be imprudent and most likely a death sentence in all but name, or responding with a challenge of one's own to be delivered in a particular format, which would result in a form of trial by combat.

The original scroll would be needed.

Returning to the square, the team were just in time to see a martian pick up the scroll and, catching sight of the Earthmen, bolt for the alleys running off the square like an eegar with the scent of a steppe tiger in its nostrils².

The chase was an arduous one, but the team eventually recovered the scroll with minimal need for violence.

Wilhelm then formulated his response, which was delivered and the form of the challenge was hammered out.

1. later, reconstructing the words as best they could, the herald said something to the effect of "His lordship was right. All earthmen are arrogant cowards."↑
2. A real one, not Hartwell, who had had a chance to bathe since his tribulations↑

Captain Forsyth: A Letter

An ongoing letter from Captain Henry Forsyth (Royal Engineers) to his brother.

Escape to Civilisation

My Dearest Clarence,

Salutations and greetings.

I am now safety returned to the empire, but not without event, I can assure you.

Our Martian air vessel had crashed in foothills. There was much to be done. Firstly, we attended to our wounds. Hartwell and I were beyond immediate repair, but we were able to patch up Wilhelm to good effect and at least help Wiseman a little.

We felt we urgently needed to garner what we could from the wreck. Wilhelm turned his attention to supplies and went to source them below decks.

Hartwell looked to see if there was anything that could be of personal advantage.

I had a notion that perhaps some of the lift wood could be salvaged and maybe we could create a lifeboat out of the wreckage. I therefore set myself to inspect the damage and what may be salvaged.

However, as I was examining the structure, it became apparent it was unstable. The frames holding the lift wood were splintered and in a strange case of reverse gravity were creaking under the upward pressure of the lift wood.

Still if we acted quickly, a panel might be salvaged, weighted down with rocks and if we could keep the slattered aspect with its control, then ideas were starting to form. No doubt Wilhelm would bring his expertise too.

Wiseman being somewhat more the worse the wear had remained on deck. He let out a warning cry and as moments later I was to realise he jumped for it.

The back of the ship was broken and the fore section now tore away. The movement finally did for the lift wood panels, which released crashed into the underside of the deck and carried that whole section of the ship aloft!

I leapt out of the rent in the ships side, narrowly avoiding being carried aloft myself.

Now another danger assailed us. The bow section ascended slowly at first, then dipped forward and the forward cannon fell off, it reeled back and debris fell from both upper and lower decks. It crazily lurched about ascending rapidly, while breaking up.

Lethal blocks of wood, pulleys, fragments of heavy rope, stores and more were raining on us. It was a deuce of time to avoid getting hit. Sadly, Wiseman was not so fortunate, he got clobbered by what I take to be part of the balustrade. If only things were built to British standards, this would never have happened.

He was still alive but a little groggy, we managed to shelter from the rest.

Meanwhile I’d shouted a warning to the others, who both got out in time as the rest of the ship went the same way and managed to evade the falling debris.

The heavier parts of the ship all returned to the planet surface, but very little was salvageable, neither did we try.

I’d hoped that I’d be able to construct some form of lifeboat. I’d appreciated that we probably had limited time, but within that vague hope was the possibly of conveying the body of Jones back to the empire, where he might have the funeral he deserved.

Alas, his body was still on the foredeck as it ascended and we later found some 50 yards away, in the direction we needed to travel.

We gave him a burial, the very best we could. Naturally I said a few words and ended with the Lord’s Prayer. It seems so little for a man that gave so much. He was miscreant in many ways, but latterly only in my service. I’ll be forever grateful, for the pickle he got us out of in Shastapsh. In irons with seeming no escape and the man just produces the key like some conjurer’s trick.

Top class tenor too.

Wilhelm had managed to gather about a days’ worth of food.

I still had my compass and concurred with Hartwell’s more instinctive sense of the direction we needed to go.

We began our march back to civilisation over very difficult terrain.

We pitched a cold camp, there being no brush or trees that would serve as firewood, but before we hunkered down, another party came close and also set up camp.

Wilhelm volunteered to scout, which was unusual, as Hartwell or I have more natural abilities for this.

But Wilhelm figured if he could get close enough, then he could use that wonderous hat of his to spot sentries in the dark.

So he did!

He reported the disposition, the presence of gashants. He couldn’t understand them but seemed to think they were hostile.

Consequently, we planned a dawn attack, with the principle aim to take gashants, which would give us a much better chance of reaching the nearest British city.

Wiseman and I circled the encampment, so he was in the direction we would need to escape and we could collect him as we made our proposed escape.

Then Hartwell, Wilhelm and I, each attempted to take out and subdue the guards, one each. I am most embarrassed to report, that my two non-military comrades conducted themselves in textbook manner, while my sentry was somewhat more alert.

I failed to subdue him, he shouted an alarm and then the cad tried to run me through.

I regret it all rapidly regressed into a most unfortunate melee, which I’d hoped to avoid. We had not intended harm to this hill tribe, despite being in what may be considered hostile territory. However, when one is fighting for one’s life, such niceties have to be set aside.

I was forced to shoot a couple of the tribesman, notably the one desperately trying to provide me with new body apertures that would not have conducive to my health.

A number of them managed to gain their mounts and were threatening to overwhelm poor Hartwell, who’d gone in close.

Wilhelm had other ideas and managed to account for the four assailants closing in on Hartwell in one go, using one of his devices. He bought down the other mounted adversary in similar fashion.

It was over in short order. Regrettably most of the tribe were killed in the action.

Obviously, we couldn’t leave the mounts to fend for themselves, so took them with us for their own well-being.

They greatly speeded our journey and we arrived in Moerus Lacus in following day.

Wiseman was able to get the medical attention he needed.

I reported to the senior officials, as I was duty bound to do.

Naturally we reported the true character of the prince and of his heinous behaviour and hideous treatment of humankind. I was surprised to be doubted and questioned.

Really, this official was being a bore, suggesting that we had had an excess of Bhutun spice. I bit my lip somewhat, not knowing how the land lay, but really it was the most outrageous slander and one I will redress.

In hindsight I should have called this official out, but we had just escaped a perilous situation and were not expecting to be fighting on the home front. I regret I played the situation badly, we handed over the evidence on the basis that a marker and an inventory would be provided.

A sealed envelope was duly sent to me as we prepared to embark on a barge for the capital, along with dispatches.

However, it was empty. We had clearly been deceived and I must admit our collective anger was so strong we debated missing our barge and returning to confront this snake at the colonial office.

In hindsight I think that’s what we should have done, but it would have meant at least a day’s delay. My sense of duty was weighing heavily on me, I was entrusted with dispatches and needed to report to the governor and other officials at the earliest opportunity. I was also not sure what could be gained by confronting a petty official, who was most likely trying to avoid a diplomatic incident.

It has only occurred to me now that this may be more than petty bureaucracy. What if this individual is within the sphere of the prince?

We have already decided that when opportunity allows, we will dish the prince for his insults and crimes. The murder and indignation he has subjected innocent people to cannot go unpunished.

However, we checked our anger and boarded the barge.

We arrived without incident. It was rather surreal as we are used to travelling in questionable areas, where attack is always a possibility, so an uneventful journey is a rare thing.

I reported as expected and handed over the dispatches.

I’m at a deuce to know what’s going on. The investigation or court martial has been postponed with no expectation as when anything might happen. The hu-ha has rather died, there are rumours of another situation, where I may be called upon, but no-one will say more. Therefore, it’s obviously quite serious!

That rather despicable journalist has gone very quiet. I’m no longer a guest of her Majesty (God bless her), but it’s all rather unsatisfactory. There are hints that nothing may happen, but I will be most pleased to defend my character if necessary.

We were rather in a fug, staying at the Explorers Club trying to work out our next course of action.

Then Wilhelm got the most unusual challenge, which was presented in one of the main squares. A Martian herald read the most preposterous set of charges out loud against him.

Wilhelm, I think rightly, spurned the offered scroll and left in distain.

To me this felt like a very scripted and pre-planned encounter. It had certainly attracted a large audience and garnered much interest.

I felt the scroll was important, it hadn’t been created by accident and aside from a very personal attack on Wilhelm, it had referenced threats on British forces.

As an officer, I clearly an obligation to pursue this.

Initially there was great interest in the scroll that had been thrown at the feet of Wilhelm.

I decided to outwait the crowd.

As they were breaking up a young desperate Martian ran out and grabbed it.

I immediately gave pursuit, overhauled the individual and gained the scroll. His comments on being apprehended gave me to believe he may have been a ground cleanser.

Wilhelm had sought legal advice.

It seems the challenge was very much a formal device under Martian law.

Under the same rules Wilhelm has been able to issue a counterchallenge.

So, at some point there will be a duel between Wilhelm and some unknown and some self-proclaimed Martian Lord.

We rather suspect that Belltower might be the real adversary.

May our family prosper,

Yours Faithfully,

Henry