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