The Japanese Devil Fish Girl and Other Unnatural Attractions Part 33

The Croydon battery opened up into the evening sky. Rapier blades of searing force slashed at the Jovian wars.h.i.+p.

But the hull was tempered to resist the heat of atmospheric entry and these beams did little to trouble the swollen craft.

But now a klaxon call rang out across the aerodrome. The amplified voice of an adjutant called, 'Scramble, chaps, and chocks away.' Captain Bigglesworth, who had not gone down with his s.h.i.+p, the Empress of Mars Empress of Mars, was squadron leader of the armoured airs.h.i.+p company stationed at Croydon. He marched across the cobbled airstrip, meerschaum pipe firmly clenched between fine white teeth. Silk scarf of similar whiteness all a-flap about his neck. One of those new leather flying jackets with the high sheepskin collar, adding that little extra sleek sartorial something that might not have already been amply catered for by his abundant handlebar moustache, black leather flying helmet and exclusively customised bra.s.s flying goggles, courtesy of Dogfish, Marmaduke and Gilstrap, goggle-makers to the gentry.

'Pip pip, chaps,' called Captain Bigglesworth, adopting the new and singular patois of the Flying Service. 'Bandits at five o'clock and it's half past seven now, some giraffe, some neck, doncha know.'

The gunners in their turrets lashed the alien craft with fire. The Jovians retaliated, slender missiles seeking out their targets. Captain Bigglesworth and his company of airmen took to the sky and engaged the enemy in combat.

That enemy of honesty, that fiend in human form, Professor Coffin paced before the statue. The golden G.o.ddess so beautiful and perfect to behold seemed now to be so very sad of face. Professor Coffin glanced up at the wonderful visage. Was that actually a tear that had formed at the corner of an emerald eye? Surely not. A mere trick of the light, nothing more.

Professor Coffin paced further and muttered to himself. It really had not not occurred to him that either the ecclesiastics of Venus or the burghers of Jupiter would actually go so far as to declare war against the Earth. He had seen himself touring planets with the statue. Achieving vast celebrity upon each world he visited. Receiving medals of distinction. Being feted by off-world royalty. Being entertained by glamorous concubines. An interplanetary war was, to say the least, a tiresome inconvenience. occurred to him that either the ecclesiastics of Venus or the burghers of Jupiter would actually go so far as to declare war against the Earth. He had seen himself touring planets with the statue. Achieving vast celebrity upon each world he visited. Receiving medals of distinction. Being feted by off-world royalty. Being entertained by glamorous concubines. An interplanetary war was, to say the least, a tiresome inconvenience.

But then Professor Coffin gave himself up to optimistic thinking. If the British Empire triumphed in this war, as they had indeed triumphed in the last one, the Empire would extend itself to the populated worlds. Their peoples, now conquered and wholly compliant, would sh.e.l.l out their entrance fees. There would still be fortunes to be made.

'Things will be for the best,' said Professor Coffin. 'Things will be for the best.'

'Best foot forward, chaps. Do the hokey-c.o.key and poke my ailing aunty with a mushroom on a stick,' cried Captain Bigglesworth, as there were still many wrinkles to be ironed out in the new patois of the Flying Service.

'Strafe those Jovian bounders,' he continued. Which was near enough.

The Croydon squadron were not, however, making any particular impact upon the Jovian man-o'-war. Sleek missiles streaked from its rotund underbelly, striking home at an English airs.h.i.+p and dropping it to the ground. The Jovian craft seemed all but invulnerable and Captain Bigglesworth was about to order a strategic withdrawal when help arrived from a most unexpected quarter.

A Magonian cloud-s.h.i.+p of the Venusian strike force skimmed overhead, its masts draping vapour trails across the evening sky.

Crystal spheres discharged on the Jovian man-o'-war. A mighty explosion, blinding white, dazzled the heavens above.

'Bravo, old chap,' cried Captain Bigglesworth. 'A friend in need is a friend in need and all that kind of turkey m.u.f.fin guff.'

Crystal spheres now swept in his direction.

Captain Bigglesworth swung the s.h.i.+p's wheel and took to evasive action.

Evasive action was a tactic quite unknown to Martians. These lately risen Lemurian fighters knew neither fear nor concept of surrender. Their aircraft, heavily armed and crowded to the bulwarks with warriors anxious only for battle, the utter destruction of their enemies and the return of their sacred statue, streaked over San Francisco and continued at improbable speed towards London.

And in London, George and Ada reached St Paul's. The sky above was night dark now, the dome a silhouette of deeper black upon it. Above the dome and tethered by a cable hung the Lemurian airs.h.i.+p, twin to those that swept across America.

Before the great cathedral doors, George halted. Once more he took Ada in his arms.

'Know only this,' he said to her. 'Whatever happens next to me, never forget how much I love you.'

'That sounds like a fond farewell,' said Ada.

'Well,' said George, 'we must part company here. I must face Professor Coffin alone.'

'Oh yes?' said Ada. 'And why might that be?'

'Because of the danger,' said George.

'Oh,' said Ada. 'And I am a stranger to danger, I suppose? A helpless little woman who must fret while her big brave man deals with the wicked villain?'

George looked down at Ada Fox. 'Well, it was worth a try,' said he, 'but I did not for one moment expect it to work. Come quietly with me now then and we will see what we can do.'

General Darwin, doing things that he should not be doing with red flags, was called to some attention by young Winston.

'Darwin, my dear fellow,' he said to the monkey. 'There is a war on, you know, and your a.s.sistance would be valued at this time.'

Darwin bared his teeth and bounced and gestured at the map.

'Ah, I see,' said Mr Churchill. 'You are trying to tell me something. What is it, boy, a small child trapped down a well? A party of Abyssinians locked in a water closet?'

General Darwin rolled his eyes and then renewed his gestures.

The elderly generals who had been deprived of their map-pinning duties were cl.u.s.tered all about the big map spread across the big map table. Winston rose from his comfortable chair and elbowed several aside.

General Darwin spread his arms above the flag-stuck map.

'Ah,' said Mr Winston Churchill, drawing deeply upon his cigar and releasing a great gale of smoke to envelop all and sundry. 'I see your cause for concern, my dear Darwin. London, it would appear, is completely surrounded.'

And it was as true as a terrible truth could be. Yellow flags signifying Venusian forces arced to the south and the east. Blue-flagged areas to the west and north displayed the air forces of Jupiter.

'A pretty pickle,' said Mr Winston Churchill, 'but not, I feel, a desperate circ.u.mstance. As our American cousins would have it, it will shortly be like "shooting fish in a barrel".'

And these were no idle words upon the part of the great militarist. For dug-in close to the capital's heart were many fortifications. And these armed with modified weaponry of a most fantastic nature. The work of Mr Charles Babbage and Mr Nikola Tesla.

Electrical weaponry, this, involving many valves and capacitors. And many great 'power-up' levers that had to be swung into place using both hands, which gave life to much electrical crackling between steel b.a.l.l.s high upon towers of pale ceramic insulators. Operators in special goggles of greenly darkened gla.s.s threw the 'power-up' levers, marvelling at the cracklings of electrical force. Others peered through telescopic sights, which offered night-time vision via the medium of pseudo-cosmic anti-matter transperambulation.

A Jovian wars.h.i.+p moved silently above the Thames, coming from the direction of Kew. A fine hunter's moon shone down on its globulous upper parts. The Thames reflected moonbeams to its armoured underbelly.

Its captain might have taken in the sudden flas.h.i.+ngs ahead. Taken them to be some vehicle moving over the Hammersmith Bridge. But before the misinterpretation of those flas.h.i.+ngs could be reinterpreted into the positive threat that they truly represented, it was all too late.

The new electric street lighting of Hammersmith dimmed as colossal fistfuls of power were sucked from the grid and hurled with devastating force from Mr Tesla's futuristic weapons.

The Jovian s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p, girdled in blue flame, reared like some startled, swollen creature stung by a deadly insect. It circled, rolled, turned its bloated belly to the heavens and plunged into the Thames.

The water foamed, bubbled and boiled. The Jovian s.h.i.+p exploded.

A mighty cheer rose up from those upon the Hammersmith Bridge.

A mighty cheer and a great, 'G.o.d save the Queen.'

And the Queen was being blessed now in many parts of London. The electric guns spat bolts of man-made lightning to the sky. Striking home on many an alien s.p.a.cecraft.

Magonian cloud-s.h.i.+ps withered and crumpled. Folded in upon themselves and died. Venusian commanders, appalled by this turn of events, cast aside their tranquil mien, bawled furious orders to retreat and drew their s.h.i.+ps on high and out of range.

From there to drop their crystal spheres with terrible effect.

On Hammersmith and Shepherd's Bush the crystal spheres rained down. An eight o' clock performance by Little Tich at the Shepherd's Bush Empire was rudely interrupted by the building's utter destruction. And the award-winning architectural triumph that was the gentlemen's lavatory on the green a favourite haunt of Mr Oscar Wilde when The Importance of Being Earnest The Importance of Being Earnest was playing at the Empire became nothing but the fondest of memories. was playing at the Empire became nothing but the fondest of memories.

Gentlemen of the West London Fire Brigade stoked up the fireboxes of their steam-driven tenders. It was likely to be a very long night.

Firemen offered up their prayers and donned their great big helmets.

The dome of St Paul's, a helmet of faith perhaps, was now being lit sporadically by flashes of flame. Explosions on high and roaring fires below. The chaos of war was drawing nearer to the great cathedral. Beyond the stained-gla.s.s windows, sheets of artificial lightning, hurled from Mr Tesla's guns, fragmented the sky and challenged the light of the moon.

Within the inner temple, Professor Coffin, all alone, was very hard at work. He had removed the canvas awning that covered this blasphemous showman's booth and he was high on a gantry dismantling the scaffolding, cursing as he did so to himself.

'd.a.m.ned fools!' he cried, and loudly too. 'All of them, stupid d.a.m.n fools. Fear not, my lovely,' he called to the statue. 'I will save you from harm. We'll make away from here in haste and head to safer parts.'

'No,' came the voice of George Fox, firmly. 'That you will never do.'

Professor Coffin turned to view the young man on the gantry.

'George,' he said. 'Well, this is some surprise.'

'Yes.' George nodded. 'It must be, as you sent my wife and I to our deaths.'

'There must be some misunderstanding, my boy.' Professor Coffin danced a little. 'I merely wished for those fellows to lock you away for a couple of days. Where are they, by the by?'

'Both dead,' said George. A-smiling as he said it.

'Ah.' Professor Coffin nodded. 'That is most unfortunate. '

'For you certainly,' said George. 'London is under attack. People are dying and it is your fault. I will offer you a choice that you do not deserve. Leave the cathedral now, alone, walk away and I will make no attempt to stop you.'

'Or?' asked the professor. 'I am intrigued.'

'You have committed a crime so heinous,' said George, 'that there can only be one just punishment for you. Resist me and attempt to steal the statue once more and I swear that I will kill you where you stand.'

'Kill me!' Professor Coffin made flamboyant gestures. 'Such bluff and bl.u.s.ter, young man. You have not the stomach for such gruesome stuff. You are but a boastful boy.'

George Fox glared at the professor. 'The enormity of what you have done still seems to evade you,' he said. 'And I can understand that you might harbour doubts as to my sincerity. So we will put it to the test. Descend the ladder now and depart the cathedral by the time that I have counted to ten, or I will fling you from the gantry to the tiled floor beneath.'

Professor Coffin shook his head. 'George, George, George,' he said to George, 'what has become of us both? Such travelling companions were we. Such adventures we had.'

'One . . . two . . . three . . .' went George, and, 'Four-five-six . . .'

'Is there nothing for it, my boy? Must it come to this?'

'Seven,' went George. 'Eight,' went George. 'Nine,' went George.

And- Professor Coffin yanked a pistol from his pocket.

'Ten, I suppose it is,' he said. And fired it point-blank into George.

44.

Rackwards staggered George, a look of horror on his face, a smoking hole in the breast of his wedding suit jacket. He tried to utter words, but none would come. His knees gave beneath him and he sank to the boards of the gantry.

'No!' Ada screamed.

The professor turned quickly, for she'd been sneaking up behind him.

'You too?' said he, but then he said no more. Ada high-kicked the gun from the showman's hand, swung about once more with her foot and swept the legs from under him. Professor Coffin lost his balance, clawed at the air, then with a scream that sounded scarcely human, fell to the cold tiled floor beneath. He struck with a sickening, bone-breaking thud and lay very still indeed.

'George,' cried Ada, springing forwards to her love and flinging herself to her knees. She lifted George's limp-necked head and cradled it in her lap. 'My darling George,' she wept. 'My darling, do not die.'

George could manage whispered words. 'Give them the statue,' said he.

'The Venusians?' asked Ada, tears streaming down her face.

'Bring down the airs.h.i.+p,' George managed. 'Crash it through the windows, haul the statue out and let whoever cares to take it do so.'

'George, don't die. You can't die.'

'Please,' said George. 'Just do it. If you can.'

Beyond the stained-gla.s.s window, Magonian cloud-s.h.i.+ps drifted upon high. Twinkling spheres of light sparkled down from them. Parts of inner London now took fire.

'I will not fail, George,' said Ada. 'But please do not die.'

'I will try my best,' said George in reply and with that fainted away.

Ada Fox gently eased George's head back to the gantry planking. Rose, made a face of terrible determination and gave forth an atavistic scream. Then she tore away the enc.u.mbrances of her petticoats and bustled skirts, shed her jacket, ripped free her bodice and stood for a moment, a Valkyrie in corset and bloomers. A girl adventurer. Gorgeously tousled.

Ada climbed onto the scaffolding, s.h.i.+nned higher. Balanced on its highest cross-beam and then, upon no more than a wing and a prayer, flung herself towards the rail of the Whispering Gallery. Onto this fearlessly she climbed, then from there to a tiny door that led to the outside of the dome.

Alone stood Ada under troubled skies. Above swam Jovian s.p.a.cecraft like horrid copper carp. Crackles of electricity leapt towards them from the Tesla guns. The stolen Lemurian airs.h.i.+p hung close at hand, mere feet above the great dome's peak. Moored by a heavy cable, but not an impossible climb for such a lady as she.

A wind was whipping up now and nesting pigeons all about Ada took to sudden flight.

The adventuress in the corset and bloomers wiped away tears from her eyes. A fierce determination electrified her body. Ada took to climbing up the dome.

It was vast and there was little purchase. A safe enough place to moor a stolen airs.h.i.+p. Ada scrabbled higher. Great booms beneath announced that the Mark 5 Juggernauts were aiming their cannons aloft. Sh.e.l.ls exploded over her head as some lethal firework display.

Ada noted with some satisfaction that the attacking sky-craft were giving St Paul's Cathedral a very wide berth. Neither the ecclesiastics of Venus nor the burghers of Jupiter wished to harm the holy statue. In this at least she was offered some safety to go about her task.

With fingernails broken and fingers bloodied and torn, Ada gained the very summit of the dome. Wind lashed about her now, threatening to fling this frail form of a girl away into the sky. But Ada took a mighty breath and climbed up to the airs.h.i.+p.

'Airs.h.i.+ps?' queried Winston Churchill. 'Fleets of Martian airs.h.i.+ps?'

'Seen over New York five minutes ago,' said Mr Nikola Tesla, 'the message transmitted to my personal receiver-' he held up same, a slim, flat box of bra.s.s with many b.u.t.tons, '-via trans-Atlantic wireless telecommunication. I have installed communicating devices in Ten Downing Street, Windsor Castle, Buckingham Palace and the apartment of a lady named Lou, whom I met at the music hall.'