The Rise of the Bayloks! by Jaqhama

[Jaqhama]

Note to BG readers: Although this story can be read as a stand-alone tale it might enhance your enjoyment if you follow the link below and read the first Baylok story I wrote last year.
http://brassgoggles.co.uk/forum/index.php/topic,9781.0.html

The Rise of the Bayloks!
by
Kevin ‘Jaqhama’ Lumley

     I stood atop the flat deck of the airship Imperious and leaned on the guard-rail, looking down at the city that burned below.
     “Not a pretty sight, hey Kregan?”
     Indeed not. It seemed that most of London was a’fire. Even from up here I could see the hordes of people trying to flee the inferno.
     A small army of Bayloks were herding them toward the outskirts of the city. Once there I knew that they would be rounded up and taken to the camps that the inhuman creatures had set up, all around the outer London area.
     “Nothing we can do of course,” Admiral Noslen told me.
     He was right, as ever, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
     The Imperious was our largest aerial warship. The size of two rugby fields. Beneath our feet the wooden clad deck rolled gently as the giant airship sailed gracefully across the smoke filled sky. Unlike the original and more conventional airship designs the latest models had a wide and flat air bladder attached to the underside of the vessel. Each gas filled compartment a separate entity from the rest. Thus if one gas chamber should be damaged in any way the other chambers would remain untouched. The thick rubber material of which the underbelly of the ship was constructed was fireproof and virtually immune to rifle and pistol shot…not that I had ever seen a Baylok use a firearm. The rest of the vessel’s structure was built atop the giant bladder. There were many deck levels, housing the engine rooms, the crews quarters, a number of galleys, an ammunition room. The Admiral and myself were standing at the prow of the Imperious, only a waist high brass railing between us and the long drop below.
     Noslen turned from his distasteful view of the scenes on the ground and looked up at the bridge. He raised a hand and waved, then pointed in a southerly direction. “We should be leaving,” he said. “Nothing we can do here. Best go join the rest of the fleet, re-supply ourselves down in Pompey.”
     I felt the Imperious begin to turn to port. I could see the two helmsman swinging their large steering wheels, they controlling the spinning propellers at the sides and rear of the vessel.
     As we turned away from the stricken capitol below I took one last look at the human refugees fleeing the once great city.
     The unimaginable had happened.
     It was 1896 and London had been overrun by a vast army of monstrous creatures known as Bayloks.

*          *          *

[Jaqhama]

     Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls...allow me to present another tale of the eerie and inhuman Baylok creatures and an alternative reality wherein World War One never happens and the Sceptred Isle is quarantined from the rest of the world...as the Bayloks rampage across Great Britain, a seemingly unstoppable army of monsters.
     Meet characters like Captain Dirk Kregan, a man soon to be sent on an impossible mission into the heart of darkness. Nikola Storm, beautiful, lithe and lethal. Spring Heeled Jack, the legendary figure from London mythology...half man and half something else:
     http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spring_Heeled_Jack
     Discover the origin of the Devil's Footprints:
     http://www.mysteriousbritain.co.uk/england/devon/other-mysteries/the-devils-footprints.html
     Learn the true secret of Stonehenge and the Quoits and Dolman and standing stones of mysterious Cornwall.
     Put the dull monotony of reality aside for a moment and come on another gaslight fantasy, ripping adventure yarn, as my new tale...The Rise of the Bayloks!...begins here at Brass Goggles.

     I'll be attempting to add a bit every night and at this stage I have no idea how long the story will go on for. Like the rest of you I'm just along for the ride.

Enjoy: Jaq.

*          *          *

[Jaqhama]

   The Imperious headed south, toward the sea-girt town of Portsmouth.
   As the airship cruised majestically above the land below us I frequently went to the railing and stared down at the green fields and forests as we passed over them.
   I saw scattered groups of people, many of them manning fortified positions that had been hastily built around towns and villages.
   Several times I witnessed small battles taking place between humans and Bayloks.
   I saw a unit of cavalry engaging with their demonic enemy. I could hear the rifle and pistol shots echoing up to me. Sabres flashed in the bright sunshine. It appeared that the cavalrymen were holding their own in this instance.
   The Bayloks use no weapons except for their natural attributes. Those being their wickedly sharp fangs and claws, their taloned feet. Imagine if you will a rodent, but man sized and lean as a famine wolf. It walks upright on its two skinny legs. The arms are equally long and thin, and like the feet end in razor sharp talons. The face is rat-like, with a long snout and wet, constantly sniffing nostrils. The beady eyes are sometimes hellfire red and other times as black as pitch. Some of them can speak our language, but they have a harsh, guttural tongue of their own, incomprehensible to us. That long snout can open wide and the mouth is filled with inch long teeth, all pointed and sharp, they are. I have seen many a Baylok savagely gnawing through a human victim’s throat. The creatures give off a repulsive smell to boot. They are covered in short, bristly fur, as black as their non-human hearts…and therein lies the problem…the one reason why a battle between a man and a Baylok is always uneven.
   They have no hearts such as we. Instead, almost in the dead centre of their skinny chests is a strange organ, like dark stone it is, and just as hard.
     Cut off a Baylok’s limb and that limb will regrow within days. Cut off its head and the body will drop to the ground and appear to be lifeless…but that strange organ that passes for their hearts somehow regenerates the seemingly dead body.
    I have seen a headless body writhing about on the ground, the long talons searching for the severed head…and once that head is found it is placed back upon the stump of the neck and somehow the black liquid that the creatures use for blood, seals the head once more to the neck…and the creature lives again. One must practically hack a Baylok into several bits to stop it.
The only way to kill a Baylok once and for all is to cut that stone from the chest cavity, and then, using not a little force, smash it to pieces with the hilt of a sword or a hammer. And just to be sure it is best to scatter those pieces apart from one another.
   You see now the unfair advantage the Bayloks have over us in battle. We needs must first disable the creature enough that the stone organ within their bodies can be hacked out with a sabre or whatever sharp object is to hand.
   They are quick, as quick as their black rat cousins. They are almost invisible in any kind of shadow, so well do they blend in with the darkness. And like the animals they so resemble they are cunning.
   I myself have fought them many times. So far I have survived the encounters. Often due more to luck than ability.
   There are two things a Baylok fears: Deep water and sharp blades. The creatures cannot swim, indeed they sink like stones…and over a period of hours the water dissolves their bodies. Their fear of the swords of our soldiers is lessened somewhat by the fact that a man must get close to them to use his weapon…and as already mentioned the Bayloks are possessed of amazingly fast reactions.
   We still don’t know how the evil creatures give or take orders. It might appear they have no strategy in battle, yet that is not true. Several times I have been forced to grudgingly admire their tactics. They are guided by an inhuman intelligence that oft times seems far superior to our own.
   This then is the enemy we now face.
   One might think that all mankind would be united in this war of ours. But no. An armada of European ships and airships forms a blockade across the channel, all the way up the southern and eastern coast and even I have heard, from the top of Scotland and up to the Orkney Islands. No one is permitted to leave our island of Britain by either sea or air. Should anyone attempt to do so the armed forces of those who should be our allies will blow us into kingdom come. The Baylok menace is so far a uniquely British problem, the rest of the world wishes it to stay that way. They will let no sea going vessel or sky-bourne airship pass their blockade, less a Baylok slips through and reaches their own country.
   The creatures seem to breed like rabbits. Yet no one has ever seen a pregnant Baylok, nor indeed a newborn creature. They simply appear from nowhere, normally in small groups, join forces with their brethren and hunt down the nearest humans.
   We are their prey you see. Their food supply. They feed on us. They eat us. We are nothing more to them than fresh meat!

*          *          *

   

[Jaqhama]

     Shalako-Lin and I will away for the next few days. Galavanting around the countryside on our trail bikes.
     Hopefully we won't run into any Bayloks.
     I look forward to penning the next installment when we return.

     Cheers: Jaq.

[JennyWren]

Love this looking forward to the next installment

[Jaqhama]

Love this looking forward to the next installment

Me too! 

[Jaqhama]

   Portsmouth. Pompey. Formerly the largest and oldest Naval dockyard in Britain, now not just the largest dockyard for both sea-going vessels and skyships…now the only working Naval dockyard left in the country.
   Portsdown Hill was the saviour of the city. That and the nearby waters of the Solent.
   In less than a month, using a huge amount of explosives and manpower, including every able bodied woman and child, a dyke was blasted out on the northern side of the Hill.
   A wide and deep channel, a moat if you will, was blown all along the bottom of Portsdown Hill. This allowed the Solent to flow freely in. The moat was over two miles long and completely severed the city of Portsmouth from its mainland roots.
   Giant water cannons line the top and bottom of the Hill. Manned by a veritable army comprised of both soldiers and civilians.
   The Bayloks cannot cross the moat. Those that attempt to do so in small boats are either hosed overboard with the water cannons or set alight by incendiary rockets, flame launchers, these being also mounted around the moat and likewise affixed to the ever patrolling airships.
   For now, for a brief period of time, we have a respite from the ever advancing Baylok hordes.
   Every man, woman and child considered unfit to remain in this city under siege, has been transported across the Solent to the Isle of Wight. A last peaceful retreat from the danger and madness.
   All across Britain scattered remnants of humans’ daily fight for their very survival, against ever increasing odds.
   The Bayloks do not like the sun. Yes, they will venture forth if they must, but they prefer the darkness of night. On dull, overcast days and in the long months of winter they skulk freely about the land. Now, more than ever, we all pray for the coming summer to be equally long and hot. The whims of the British summer cannot be relied upon however.
   I am still standing at the prow of the Imperious as we gently float over the Hill and align ourselves for a landing on Southsea Common. It is but a few minutes away and I can make out the trees that line Ladies Mile. I can see Southsea Castle, still standing vigilant, looking out across the blue waters of the Solent, guarding us today as it has guarded us since the days of Trafalgar.
   Admiral Nolsen returns to my side. “I have a message for you, Dirk,” he tells me. “The Council would like to see you as soon as we arrive. They are still meeting down at the Spice Island Inn, in the Camber.”
   Like myself the Admiral looks tired. We are returning from a reconnaissance against the enemy, a survey to see if the stories of London burning were really true. To learn if the Bayloks were simply slaughtering people, or had some other, more nefarious purpose in mind. We had been ordered not to attempt to rescue any of our people, no matter how desperate their plight. We could not afford to take the Imperious close to the ground, we dare not let even one Baylok aboard, lest the creatures wrest control of the Imperious from us and either destroy it, or use it against us.
   Why the powers that be thought that the black-furred scoundrels might suddenly begin using our own vessels and weapons against us I had no idea. To date I had never seen a Baylok so much as pick up a discarded sword and use it as it was intended. The creatures either disdained to use human weapons or just simply preferred their own built in armaments.
   Make no mistake; the Bayloks are neither unintelligent nor unimaginative. I have witnessed them display many canny actions and strategies. I confess I fail to understand why they refuse to use our pistols and rifles and edged weapons. It is one of the strange, baffling things about them.
   Though this affliction is too our own advantage, of course. God forbid they should suddenly start using our own ordinance and munitions against us. I feel that then we would be truly doomed.
   I daily rage and curse that those who should be our allies, the Europeans, just a short journey across the ocean from us, have refused to aid us in any way. They are terrified that the Bayloks will reach their own shores and thus begin to multiply on their own soil. Even the Americans, those brash and outspoken people of a doughty, frontier culture, have so far done naught but supply us with more of those same munitions of which I speak.
   To be fair many men and yes, even women from those countries have, in small groups and as individuals, attempted to join our fight. But now they too are turned back by the armada that blockades the waters around the British Isles. I suppose I should not blame the Europeans and the Americans for their self-serving agenda. In truth I would not wish the fate of England on another nation.
   I ponder on all of this as the Imperious bumps gently against the Common. In moments the gangplanks are down and many of the crew, thankful to be back safely in Pompey, rush down and reunite themselves with family members and friends.
   “Would you care to dine with me tonight, Dirk?” asked the Admiral. He is a stern man, dressed in the tight blue trousers and waist length coat that befits his rank. Only a small amount of gold braid indicates his authority. He wears a low topped cap with a black leather peak upon his head. It covers his close cropped silver hair. He is close to sixty by my reckoning, yet still a man of quick wit and endless energy.
   I am but thirty years of age myself. Dressed in tight black breeks that tuck into knee high cavalry boots. I wear a black shirt beneath my dark green Hussars jacket; it trimmed with black wolf fur. A low topped shako of dark green sits at a jaunty angle upon my head. My own hair is also close cropped, but at least it is still the same dark colour it has always been. Admiral Noslen has a revolver strapped around his waist. I, on the other hand, am fairly bristling with weapons. A wide leather belt supports a revolver on my right hip and a sabre on my left. A baldric across my right shoulder carries a double barrelled shotgun, a much shortened version of the original Purdey it once was. I have cut down both the twin barrels and the stock, leaving a fearsome, close quarter’s weapon. A kukri, that most deadly of Himalayan fighting blades nestles comfortably by my spine. The baldric for my shotgun is also the bandolier that holds many cartridges. It is a lot of weight to carry about on one’s person but I have become so used to my armament that I would feel positively naked walking around without it.

[Jaqhama]

   Thanks to Mr Marconi and his incredible wireless system we are now able to communicate boat to airship, ship to land, using radio waves.
   “The request to attend a meeting of the Council came from who?” I inquired of the Admiral.
   “Colonel Swires,” he told me.
   “I don’t like him,” I said. “Man’s got no imagination. Thinks the Bayloks can be beaten using conventional tactics.”
   “And we both know that’s not true, hey lad? Don’t you worry, Dirk. The Council members aren’t stupid. They know that you were the original instigator of the idea to blow a channel around the city. I must say I always have a chuckle when I think of that. A year ago the idea of using a thousand ton of explosives to separate Pompey from the rest of the country would have seemed absurd. How do you come up with these outrageous ideas?”
   I smiled and shrugged. “My original idea was to use the Isle of Wight as our redoubt; it was only a bit later that I wondered if it wasn’t possible to make Portsmouth an island as well.”
   “Bloody good thinking it was too.” The Admiral gave me a pat on the shoulder. “I daresay the Council wants to know if you’ve any other schemes in that head of yours. Look you, Dirk, why don’t you wander off to see them now, then go to your quarters. Nothing else you can do here.”
   I took a deep breath. I was tired, it was true. The thought of a bath and a change of clothes and even a cigar alongside a tot of Pussers Rum was appealing.
   “I expect the Council wants me to give them a firsthand report of what we’ve seen over the last couple of days,” I said. “Probably besiege me with endless questions, trying to make sense of the senseless.”
   “Is it senseless do you think? Have the Bayloks no other plan in mind for us other than to feed off us until there’s no one left?”
   “I truly don’t know,” I admitted.

*          *          *

   I stepped down off the gangplank onto the soft grass of Southsea Common. Many people bustled about. I negotiated my way past a crowd of them. A voice hailed me. “Captain Kregan!”
   I looked about for the source.
   “Ah. Hello Sergeant Flynn. How are you?”
   “Mustn’t grumble, Sir. What about yourself then?”
   “I’m fine thanks. What are you doing here?”
   Sergeant Ballantyne Flynn was a big, raw-boned man. A shock of reddish hair showed under his green shako. He wore the same uniform as myself and indeed we had served in the same Hussar’s unit for many a moon. A huge battle-axe dangled from a harness across his shoulders and he had a large calibre rifle on a sling about his chest.
   “Council man asked me to come fetch you. Said it was urgent, so he did” his accent betrayed his Irish origins.
   “I see. Well then, Bally, we’d better not keep them waiting had we?”
   “Suppose not, Dirk. I’ve got a carriage waiting, over there,” he pointed.
   Flynn was the closest thing to a good friend that I had. By using his first name I had given an indication that we could be informal for the moment. In the presence of others we would revert to Sir and Sergeant.
   “Dirk? Dirk?” Another voice called my name. I glanced around and found myself gazing into the bright blue eyes of Kelly Hagen. Her shoulder length blonde hair moved in the gentle breeze. As ever she was a gorgeous sight. Today she was dressed in an ankle length skirt and wore a bright scarlet jacket above that, open at the front and showing a lacy blouse. She was considered somewhat scandalous amongst the locals. I noticed not a few men in the crowd around us eyeing her covertly, and mainly her well rounded posterior at that.
   I inclined my head in her direction. “Kelly. Always a pleasure.”
   She grinned at me. “Likewise, Captain Kregan. What can you tell me of the fate of London?”
   Kelly was, of all things, a reporter for the Portsmouth Daily. Her position no doubt assured by the fact that her father owned and ran the newspaper.
   I hesitated. Should I divulge what I had seen happening in the capitol to her? But then, what matter? Dozens of the Imperious’ crew had seen the same as I. The story of London burning, of the Bayloks rounding up our fellow humans, would be the talk of the town in a matter of minutes anyway.
   “I have a carriage waiting, Kelly. Walk with Sergeant Flynn and myself and I’ll tell you what I saw on the way.”
   “Good’o.” She came up next to me and slipped her right arm through my left. “Tell me everything.”

*          *          *

   “Tell us everything, Captain Kregan,” instructed Colonel Swires.
   I was standing before a long wooden table, at which were seated eight men and two women. This was the Council. They who were tasked with overseeing the daily running of the City and the defence thereof. They were also the ones who decided what actions we took in regards to the war. Made up of several military leaders, the Mayor, Queen Victoria’s cousin and a few other people held in high esteem.
   So I told them pretty much the same as I’d told Kelly Hagen.
   “London is a’fire. The Bayloks are driving the citizens out of the capitol, herding them if you will. They have set up prison camps around the outskirts of the city and this is where they are forcing people. Why I have no idea. The countryside between here and London is overrun with the blighters. They’re everywhere. There is some resistance, but in my opinion it is a forlorn hope. There are too many of the enemy and not enough of us. And as we all know, the creatures are exceedingly hard to kill. I fear that in less than a few weeks the only humans not killed or captured by the Bayloks will be those of us here in Portsmouth and on the Isle of Wight. I cannot, of course, make comment on other parts of the country that I haven’t seen. I daresay that people on some of the other islands, like the Orkneys and the Outer Hebrides may be alright for the time being.”
   The Council members nodded grimly. Not liking my assessment, but agreeing with it.
   “The Captain is correct,” a female voice said. “But there is a strange inconsistency in certain western areas of the country.”
   I turned my head and looked at the speaker. She had appeared through a door to the left side of the large room. We were actually in the upstairs section of the Spice Island Inn. An old drinking establishment right on the edge of the Camber, the heart of the Pompey docklands, wherein Lord Nelson’s flagship, the Victory was moored.
   The woman who had spoken was in her late twenties. She had short black hair and an elfin face. Her figure was slim but curvaceous for all that. She wore black pants inside a pair of thigh high boots of gloss black leather. I could see a blouse of dark blue silk beneath a waist length coat of burgundy. A bright red scarf, also of silk, was tied around her neck. She bore a pistol on each hip and a long, slim sword dangled from a baldric over her shoulder. I noticed a dagger in a sheath strapped around her right calf. Her face and the skin on her hands was well tanned. She looked like a cross between a pirate and a gypsy.
   One of the council members was good enough to introduce us. “Captain Kregan this is Special Agent Nikola Storm, late of her Majesty’s Secret Service.”
   A spy, hey? “Pleased to meet you, Miss Storm,” I said politely.
   She inclined her head. “Captain.” She had a strange accent. Russian perhaps? I was intrigued, both by her voice and her mode of dress, not to mention her weaponry. I had not seen a woman outfitted such as this before.
   Colonel Swires spoke up. He was a short, ruddy complexioned man. His stomach strained against his coat, I suspected it had been some time since he had invested in any martial exercises. “What inconsistencies m’dear?”
   I got the impression Miss Storm was not overly pleased to be referred to as a m'dear, she gave the Colonel a dark look. Nevertheless she answered him well enough. “My continuing observation of the Bayloks have led me to an unusual discovery,” she paused, drawing it out. “They avoid Stonehenge; they do not avoid Glastonbury Abbey nor Glastonbury Tor. They are less prevalent in the county of Cornwall…and they seem to avoid both Bodmin Moor, Exmoor and Dartmoor. I suspect that this is not because they dislike sunshine or daylight, though admittedly there is scant shade from the sun in any of those places. I have a wild theory, yet I hesitate to mention it, less you think me addled.”
   Colonel Swires smiled and spread his hands magnanimously. “Not at all, m’dear, we welcome your theories, no matter how wild they might seem, pray continue.”
   The new arrival took a deep breath. I watched her bosom rise and fall with interest. “I believe the Baylok creatures fear all of the places I have mentioned because there are ancient standing stones in those areas. They will not go anywhere near Stonehenge, for example. I confess I have, as yet, no idea why. But I have a plan to satisfy my curiosity.”
   I could see the Council members debating her words. “What is this plan?” asked Alice, she who was Queen Victoria’s cousin and the only known surviving member of the British Royal family.
   “I intend to capture a Baylok alive, transport it to Stonehenge, deposit the creature within the stone circle and,” here the attractive girl shrugged, “see what happens.”

*          *          *

   
   

[James Harrison]

This is shaping up to just as great as your previous effort.  Each instalment has me on the edge of my seat. 

[Jaqhama]

   “What exactly do you expect will happen to a Baylok you place within the circle at Stonehenge?” I asked Nikola Storm.
   She turned to me and shrugged again. “I really have no idea. Yet I know the creatures shun the area where the Henge is on Salisbury Plain.”
   I rubbed my chin. “Might I ask how you were able to observe the behaviour of the Bayloks without being killed or captured by them? Have you been using an airship?”
   She smiled at me, which I found rather pleasing I admit. Then she shook her head. “Not an airship, no. I’m a Kite-Wing pilot.”
   “Good God,” I exclaimed. I couldn’t help myself.
   Miss Storm raised a dainty eyebrow in my direction. “Yes?”
   I waved a hand. “Sorry. Just didn’t see you as a Kite-Wing flier. Don’t see many people as Kite fliers actually. Bloody dangerous things they are.”
   I now found myself on the end of a condescending stare. “I am an expert Kite-Wing pilot, Captain Kregan.”
   For those who don’t know a Kite-Wing is a rather delicate contraption that allows a person to fly about solo. If the damned thing manages to stay up in the air that is.
   It has a long, hollow body, shaped like a canoe. Two large and very thin wings jut out on either side of the body. The hollow area is filled with the lighter than air gas that we use in the airships. Bladders, also filled with the gas, are attached between the double wings. The pilot sits in the centre of the device. Two foot pedals are turned with the feet, such as a man riding a penny-farthing uses, these move a flat piece of stiffened leather up and down at the rear of the Kite-Wing. There are no rudders, to change direction one leans to one side of the other. It is a precarious machine to take to the skies in. The stiffened leather at the rear, moving up and down, pushes the Kite-Wing forward. The whole contraption is made of nothing more than balsa wood and leather. I was invited to try one out myself some time ago but had not been inclined to do so. Give me a good horse or the solid deck of an airship any day. I looked with some admiration at Miss Storm. She was braver than me. I told her so.
   She smiled again. “My Kite-Wing has many improvements over the original models, Captain. For instance instead of using pedals to propel the Kite forward we now use a small engine, it runs a wooden propeller at the rear. This makes the Kite much faster and easier to steer in high winds.”
   “I see. I wasn’t aware they had engines in them now.”
   “Circling in the sky, out of the Bayloks reach, often landing atop high hills or mountains, I have spent weeks observing the behaviour of the creatures. I have deduced how they are able to act as a unified force, when it seems as though not one amongst them is actually issuing any orders.”
   “You have?” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
   “What?” Colonel Swires interjected. “You’ve discovered how they perform complicated actions on the field of battle? How they are able to manoeuvre and react to our tactics?”
   The rest of the Council members also expressed surprise.
   As I mentioned before the Bayloks oft times act with military precision, yet none of us have been able to work out which among them is giving commands, nor how those commands are passed on.
   Nikola Storm surveyed us all. “They are telepathic,” she said. “They can communicate with their minds!”
   “What?” My jaw dropped and the room was suddenly in uproar.

*          *          *

[Shalako-Lin]

I'm sure this is going to be epic! 

[JennyWren]

To be continued   PLEASE!!!!

[Jaqhama]

   “So let me get this straight,” Sergeant Flynn said. “We’re going to venture forth and capture ourselves a live Baylok. Then we’re going to imprison it and transport it to Stonehenge and shove it inside the stone circle and wait and see what happens. Have I got all this right?”
   I smiled. “Yes, Bally. That’s about the size of it. The Council has requested that I aid Miss Storm in her experiment in any way I can.”
   “And you agreed to this?”
   “I did. Miss Storm has made some acute deductions where the creatures are concerned. I would never have considered it myself, but once she told us the Bayloks are telepathic, it all fell into place.”
   Flynn and I were walking back to my quarters. I had rooms in an apartment block just opposite the Round Tower and the Sally Port.
   “How did the Council members react when this Storm woman told you all that the black hearted furry buggers are bloody mind readers?”
   “No, no, Bally,” I waved a hand. “She didn’t say the Bayloks are mind readers, she said that they can communicate with one and other by telepathic means. They can’t read our minds…a fact I’m sure of…if they could do so we would all be dead and eaten by now. No, Miss Storm has pointed out, and quite rightly I believe, that the creatures can talk to each other using some form of mind power.”
   “And you believe her, Dirk?”
   “Yes,” I nodded vigorously. “Think, Bally. How many times during an engagement have we seen the creatures change tactics in response to our own? How many times have we noticed that they act with an almost uncanny military precision? One moment they are a formless rampaging mob, the next they have formed ranks, spread out, encircled or even retreated, exactly as a battalion of our soldiers would do. The only difference is that they perform these manoeuvres’ much quicker than us; and we’ve yet to see any of them appearing to give commands or directions to his comrades. No, Bally. If Miss Storm’s theory is correct, then this explains how the Bayloks can react so quickly to our own strategies. As soon as they work out a plan of attack or defence, that plan can be instantly transmitted to every Baylok on the field of battle. It’s really quite amazing.”
   The Sergeant still looked dubious. “Alright. So then this Miss Storm wants to toss a Baylok into the middle of Stonehenge…because she says they’re scared of the place…and we’ve got to grab one of the buggers and take it there? I don’t see capturing one of them will be a problem, plenty of them milling about opposite the Hill. What are we going to do then, use the Imperious to fly to Salisbury Plain?”
   I pursed my lips. “Ah, no. Miss Storm is something of an imagineer, she’s been in cohorts with a couple of our airship designers and between them they’ve been building another vessel. This one’s a far bit smaller than the Imperious I understand.”
   “Not a Kite-Wing!” exclaimed Flynn. “You’ll not get me up in one of those bloody things. They fall out of the sky more often that they manage to stay up in it!”
   “I’m with you there, old stick. Fact is Miss Storm and her partners have invited me to pop over to Fratton and see their new toy for myself. I’m going there in the morning; perhaps you’d like to accompany me?”
   The Sergeant blew out a big breath. “Aye. Alright, why not. Nothing else to do I suppose. I’ll be coming with you on this harebrained scheme will I?”
   “Only if you want to, Bally. This will be a volunteer only mission. Please feel free to decline it if you wish?
   “Decline it? Me? And you wandering off by yourself with a woman we know nothing about, on a mission likely doomed to failure. You’re joking aren’t you? Who’s going to keep you out of trouble if I’m not around?”
   We had reached the front of my building. I grinned at Flynn. “Just so, Bally. Just so. You’ll be coming in for a tot of rum with me then? We can sit out on the balcony, look over the Solent and come up with a workable plan to catch ourselves a Baylok.”
   Flynn grunted. “Sounds good to me. Won’t need no plan though. I can get hold of one of the furry buggers for you, no trouble at all.”

   
*          *          *

[Jaqhama]

   “It’s so nice to have you back, Dirk.” Kelly Hagen snuggled closer. I kissed the top of her head. Aware of her naked body pressed against my own, but somewhat sated for now by our recent lovemaking.
   “It may not be for long,” I told her. “The Council has requested I perform a most urgent mission. It will take me away from Pompey again, for a week or more, at least.”
   Kelly pushed herself away from me and sat up. “You’ve only been back a day and they’re sending you away again? What? Are you indispensible or something? Dirk, dear Dirk, surely they can send someone else this time? I can’t recall how many times in the past few months you’ve been away from me.”
   I reached up and grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her back down. “I am a soldier, Kelly. I must go where I am ordered. Besides, Sergeant Flynn will be with me, and you know how he always manages to keep me out of trouble.”
   She pouted. “What is this mission then?”
   “Ah, I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. Top secret stuff and all that rot.”
   “Oh, Dirk. You know you can trust me.”
   I chuckled. “Kelly. You’re a newspaper journalist, one of the last in Britain. We both know you’d be tempted to mention any secret mission the Council sends a man on.”
   “I would not!” she exclaimed indignantly.
   “You wrote about the Imperious’ latest flight before we even left for London.” I pointed out.
   “Everyone knew the Imperious was off on another mission,” she defended herself.
   “Not everyone knew we were going to London.”
   “It was only a matter of time,” she muttered.
   “You knew the Imperious was going to London because I told you so. And damned if that bit of information didn’t appear in the Portsmouth Daily before we’d even sailed.”
   The young woman looked shocked, as much as she was able to in her present position, being naked and in my bed. “You’re suggesting I betrayed your trust?”
   “I’m suggesting you can’t keep a good story secret.”
   “You didn’t swear me to silence you know.”
   “I didn’t think I had to.”
   She pouted again. “How do you know someone else didn’t tell me the Imperious was going to London?”
   “And did they?”
   She wriggled a bit. “Well, no. But that’s not the point. They could have.”
   I laughed and wrapped my arms around her. “Kelly, you’re incorrigible.”
   She giggled and sought my lips. “At least I’m honest about it,” she mumbled.

*          *          *

[Jaqhama]

   The next morning there was a knock at my front door.
   “That will be Flynn,” I shouted to Kelly. I was shaving in the bathroom; she was sitting at the table in the front room, eating breakfast. “Be a dear and let him in.”
   “Yes, master. No problem master. What did your last slave die of, master?”
   I grinned through my face full of shaving cream. “Open the bloody door woman.”
   I saw her smile, walk over and unlock and open my front door. She was dressed in my silk bathrobe and her hair was in disarray.
   “Good morning, Sergeant Flynn,” I heard her say.
   “Ah, good morning to you to, Miss Hagen. You’re err, looking mighty fine, if I may say so.”
   She leaned forward and gave the Sergeant a peck on the cheek, holding the silk robe closed about her cleavage as she did so. “You may say so, Flynn. It’s nice to hear a man giving me compliments instead of critiquing my every move.”
   “Does the Captain do that m’lady?” asked Flynn.
   “Never stops, Sergeant. I don’t know why I put up with him.”
   I walked out of the bathroom, wiping the vestiges of shaving cream off my face with a towel. “I thought I put up with you?”
   She made a face. “My turn in the bathroom, I really must get dressed and get over to the paper. Daddy so likes all the staff there on time.”
   “Daddy wouldn’t give two hoots if you didn’t turn up until lunchtime, Kelly, we all know that.”
   She breezed by me. “One must set standards for the rest, dear Dirk.”
   I snorted. “Breakfast, Sergeant?”
   “No, thank you. I already ate down at the Camber Café. They do a lovely plate of bacon and eggs on toast, so they do.”
   “Fine.” I reached out and picked up a cup and drained the last of my tea. “I’ll just slip my coat on and we’ll be off. I’ve had the doorman organise a carriage for us, we’ll be up at Fratton in no time at all.”
   “Did I hear you say Fratton?” Kelly inquired from the bathroom. I noticed the door was half ajar and her head peeked around it. Judging by the naked skin of her shoulder she no longer wore the silk robe. I heard Flynn swallow hard beside me. He turned away and pretended to gaze out of the main windows and across toward the Round Tower.
   I waggled a finger in Kelly’s direction. “Fratton, yes. Clothes, on. You’ll give poor Flynn a heart attack.”
   “I’m fine, so I am,” the man in question told me.
   “She only does it to shock us you know,” I said loud enough for my scandalous woman to hear.
   “Aye, Captain. I know that. It’s alright. I don’t mind the odd shock now and again.”
   From inside the bathroom we heard Kelly laugh. “I’m sorry Sergeant Flynn; I’m such a tease I know. Now what was this about going to Fratton? That’s where the airship factories are. Are you leaving me today Dirk? I thought you said it wouldn’t be for a few days yet?”
   “We’re going to inspect a new kind of airship, Miss,” Flynn told her. “Something no ones seen before.”
   I groaned. “Flynn. It’s supposed to be a bloody secret.”
   “It is?” he queried
   “It is?” asked Kelly.
   I shook my head at the pair of them. “Flynn. Mouth shut until we’re out of here. Hagen, stick that nose of yours back inside the bathroom and make yourself look more beautiful, if that’s possible.”
   I took Flynn by the arm. “Come on,” I muttered. “Let’s get out of here before she can escape the bathroom, otherwise she’ll insist we take her with us, and we can’t have that.”
   Much louder I said. “We have a carriage waiting downstairs, Kelly. I’ll catch up with you later tonight, meet me here at, say six o’clock, and we’ll take dinner together somewhere?”
   “Give me a few minutes and I’ll come with you and Sergeant Flynn,” she called back. “A new secret airship, I’m intrigued.”
   “Move, man,” I guided Flynn toward the door. I opened it silently and grabbed my Hussars coat, shako and belt-load of weaponry off the coat rack beside it. I eased us outside and gave Flynn a withering look. “I can see you know how to keep a secret as well as Kelly does.”
   Even as we started down the stairs, and he protesting, I heard a faint voice from behind us. “Dirk? Dirk?”

*          *          *

   Fortunately the carriage I had arranged for us was indeed already waiting as we walked down the steps of the building onto the street. I bid good day to the driver and the Sergeant and I climbed inside. At once the driver flicked the reins of his two horse team and we were off.
   “Sorry if I let the cat out of the bag there,” said Flynn apologetically.
   “Kelly has a nose for a story. I suppose she has to continue to prove that she is a good journalist, and not just her father’s daughter.”
   “Reckon you might be right, Dirk. By God she’s a stunner ain’t she though? You’re a lucky man, to be sure.”
   I smiled. “I am, aren’t I?”
        I then looked most seriously at him. "Damned good job you didn't happen to mention that we now believe the Bayloks are telepathic. Let that bit of information get out on the streets and they'll be a bloody panic."
        The Sergeant nodded. "I'll make sure I mind my tongue from now on. It's just that Miss Kelly is so...distracting."
        "And doesn't she know it," I said with a wry smile.
   Our carriage proceeded north through the city toward Fratton and the airship factories. Along the way we passed many people. Most of them soldiers or sailors or skymen. There were still many civilians around, but most of the non essential personnel had already been evacuated over to the Isle of Wight. The cities and towns and villages on the Isle were full near to bursting. Half the remaining population of Great Britain had fled southward from the advancing Baylok hordes.

*          *          *

   “I’m sorry Captain Kregan, Sergeant Flynn here isn’t on today’s access list, and we can only let in people who are on the list.”
   We were told this by a black garbed man whose uniform I did not recognise. Indeed it had no insignia upon it at all. He and his fellow had stopped us at the entrance to the airship facility that I had been given directions to yesterday.
   “Are you in the military?” I asked him.
   He and his fellow looked at each other. The one who had refused to allow Flynn to enter spoke again. “Used to be, Sir. Not now though. We work for someone else now.”
“And who might that be, exactly?” I demanded.
“He works for me, Captain Kregan,” a voice said.
I turned and once again found myself looking at Miss Nikola Storm. Apart from the fact that she now wore a lavender coloured jacket and black silk shirt, she was dressed as I had first seen her. She still bore her impressive display of weaponry.
   “Is there a problem, Jacque?” she asked.
“Captain Kregan wishes us to allow entry to Sergeant Flynn here, Miss. I already explained I couldn’t do that, seeing as how the Sergeant isn’t on today’s entry list.”
The dark haired woman smiled. “Quite right to, Jacque. However I think we’ll allow the Sergeant to accompany his officer. Mark him down on the list and make a note I told you to do so.”
   The guard nodded. “Very good, Miss.”
   Nikola Storm extended a hand and then waved us past her two black garbed men. “Gentlemen, if you’d be so good as to walk this way.”
   Flynn and I followed her into the darkened interior of what appeared to be a massive factory.
   A number of men and women were moving about inside. I saw many workshops and rooms. I could hear engines running and glimpsed bits of machinery moving about. A conveyor belt here, a press of some kind there. The usual mixture of oil and coal assaulted my nostrils. A furnace burned brightly some distance away.
   “Our new ship is over here,” Miss Storm informed me. “We have it in a separate hanger, away from prying eyes.”
   “You see a need to keep your ship away from the view of others?” I asked her.
   She stopped walking and turned to face us. “Oh indeed, Captain. I have no wish for the Bayloks to be informed on what we are doing.”
   I frowned. “I’m sorry, Miss Storm, I don’t understand. Are you telling me you think there may be Baylok spies here in Portsmouth? That some of the creatures may have infiltrated here and be spying on us for their fellows?”
   “Oh no, Captain. I didn’t mean the actual creatures themselves. I meant the humans who spy on us for them!”

*          *          *

[Jaqhama]

        The first time I had been in Nikola Storm’s presence I got a shock. This time was no different. Flynn looked equally stunned. His mouth was half open. “What?”
   The dark haired woman smiled slightly. “Oh yes. I’m afraid so. I had suspected it for some time. Over the past few months I had small clues, they were all confirmed one night recently.”
   “Pray do enlighten us,” I suggested.
   She looked around herself. There were factory workers scurrying around, but none nearby us. “A few weeks ago I was working late in my office on the floor above. I wished to check something on the new airship that my men and I were working on. I went downstairs and into the area where the ship was being assembled. I was barefoot, as my personal quarters are also upstairs and I was preparing for bed when the idea came upon me. I wasn’t intentionally quiet, it just happened that way. I walked into the area and found a woman bent over the table where the design plans were laid out. She was concentrating on reading them so much that she didn’t hear me at all. I was surprised to find her there. Her shift had finished hours before. I watched her. That she was studying the plans intently was obvious. Then she turned around and saw me watching her.
   “She was startled. She looked right and left, as though for an exit to flee through. But I stood between her and the only doorway into the area. I demanded to know what she was doing there. She stammered something about leaving her purse in the vicinity during the day and had now come back, searching for it. I didn’t believe her. I drew a pistol and told her I knew she was lying and that if I didn’t get the truth I would have no hesitation in blowing her brains out!”
   “Did you by God?” interrupted Sergeant Flynn. He was looking at Nikola Storm with some admiration. “A woman after me own heart.”
   She smiled at him and inclined her head. “The woman’s response was quite amazing. She dropped to her knees and begged me not to kill her. Then she began to blabber like a madwoman. Several times I had to tell her to slow down and repeat some of the things she told me.
   “Herself, her husband and their two children had been captured by the Bayloks in Dorking. On the condition that her husband and children would be allowed to live, she was brought south and set free on Hayling Island. Like many people fleeing the creatures she then swam across to Eastney and was plucked from the water by our soldiers.
   “She then became as any other refugee seeking sanctuary in Pompey. She made her way here, to Fratton, apparently on the Bayloks instructions, they, it seems, are aware that our airship factories are all situated in this area. The woman, looking for work, wanting to help defend the city from the creatures who, she said, had killed her entire family, came here asking for a job. We can always use fit and healthy people, and she was young, in her mid-twenties. So we gave her work and she performed her tasks admirably. However, as she was not an engineer or a mechanic her main duties were simply to operate the less complicated machinery. Thus was I so suspicious when I found her in the area of our new airship.”
   Nikola Storm paused and no doubt was amused at the incredulous look on the face of both myself and my Sergeant.
   “Good Lord,” I muttered.
   “Bloody Hell,” exclaimed Flynn.
   Miss Storm held up a hand and scanned about herself once more. “It becomes more interesting yet. I demanded to know what the Bayloks wanted her to spy on for them, and how she was expected to communicate her information to them afterwards. She showed me a blue crystal. I have no idea what makes it work, I only know that it does. The crystal is some kind of eye. One points the crystal at something and a person with another crystal, one that is attuned to the first, can then view for themselves what the other crystal sees. It smacks of magic I know, but believe me when I tell you it works exactly as I have described. The woman is allowed to look into the crystal once every few days…and a picture forms, of a Baylok encampment somewhere…and she can both see and speak to her husband and two children. The Bayloks thus proving to her that while she spies for them, her family will indeed be kept alive.
   “As for what they want her to spy on, that is simple. They wish to know how many airships we have and how many more we are building. They have had the woman wander around Pompey, the crystal in her hand, she showing them our sea-wall defences, the numbers of soldiers at our disposal. I can only assume that the reason for this is that they shortly plan to stage an invasion against us. One final attack, to wipe this last remaining bastion of hope and freedom from the British Isles!”

*          *          *

   

[Shalako-Lin]

Dearest Mr. Jaqhama,

May I implore you to cease adding to your tale as I wish to retire for the night. On the other hand this is I know a selfish request so please continue and I shall catch up on the morrow. Hmmmm just one more click on the refresh button........

[Jaqhama]

I have penned enough for this evening, Mistress Shalako, so shall now relax and ponder on what nefarious plot twists and action I can add tommorow.  

[JennyWren]

To be continued   PLEASE!!!!

this is so good im reduced to quoting myself

[Jaqhama]

To be continued   PLEASE!!!!

this is so good im reduced to quoting myself

I shall return!

Shortly.

[Jaqhama]

   “Have you told the Council all this?” I asked Nikola Storm with not a little shock.
   She looked around herself again. “No, my good Captain. I have not.”
   I opened my mouth to speak again but she held up a hand. “Listen carefully Captain Kregan. Have you not noticed that the Council, however much they may seek to promote otherwise, are frantically doing nothing? Oh, I don’t mean they don’t want to find a way to defeat the Bayloks, but what brilliant ideas and incentives have they come up with? None I tell you. It was your idea to blast a protective channel around this city. It was my idea to send out agents to spy on and observe Baylok behaviour. All the Council has done is make sure we have enough water cannons and flame cannons atop the defensive walls. I don’t know if you are aware of this, but we are running out of food. Currently we are supplied with food from the Isle of Wight…yet with the amount of refugees both here in Pompey and now living on the Isle…that food is beginning to run short. Yes, some of the European countries and the Americans tow food supplement ships and leave them in the Channel for us, but it’s not enough, it’s not nearly enough. If we don’t find a way to defeat the Bayloks in the next six months then they won’t have to attack and overwhelm our defences’, we will all starve to death!”
   “Bloody Hell!” said Flynn.
   Nikola wasn’t finished. “As for the woman I caught spying, she is not the only one seen acting suspiciously within our walls. However, on threat of death I now give her my own orders to follow. She now sends the Bayloks the information that I furnish them with. Information that makes it appear as if we are in a much stronger position than is the case.”
   “How did you convince her to betray the Bayloks, if they hold her husband and children captive?” I wondered.
   Nikola Storm shrugged. “I promised her I would find a way to rescue her family and bring them to Pompey.”
   “And will you?”
   “No. It is not possible. However, she believes differently, thanks to my constant reassurances. It was either kill her or have her under my control. I chose the latter. I don’t doubt the Council would have either hanged her in no time at all, or in sympathy to her plight, sent her to Wight, minus the strange crystal. A crystal whose properties I am still investigating, by the way.”
   “ By heck, Miss, you’re a cold and bold one ain’t you?” Flynn observed.
   The woman smiled at my companion. “I do what has to be done Sergeant. I am afraid I cannot say the same for the Council. They seem to think that now Pompey is our redoubt and Wight is our haven, that we have done all we can to fight the Bayloks. They seem to think that all we can now do is survive. Not go forth and wipe the inhuman creatures from this once great country.”
   The three of us looked at each other.
   “You took a chance, telling us all this,” I told her.
   Her shoulders slumped a little and it was then that I realised she was weary, bone weary.
   “I cannot keep fighting alone, Captain Kregan. I am tired. I can trust no one absolutely. I believe I have discovered any and all Baylok spies who may be here at this facility. You will notice I have my own guard force. I vetted them carefully. Who knows what secrets the Bayloks may be privy to already? I dare not even inform the Council of what I suspect, lest that information also make its way back to our enemy.”
   “You surely don’t suspect anyone on the Council of being a spy, do you?” I was astounded.
   “It doesn’t matter if any of them are, or are not, Captain. Any one of them could be a spy, that is the problem. How many of them have family members and loved ones of their own whom they do not know are alive or dead? All of them I would guess. How do we know a human in the employ of the Bayloks has not approached one of them with the same crystal that I found in the woman’s possession…and that in return for supplying the creatures with information regarding our capabilities and defences’ the person may be allowed to talk to a loved one of their own, via the strange communication crystal?”
   Miss Storm had a point. A very valid one. I said as much and Flynn agreed with me.
   “Why did you choose the two of us to unburden yourself to?” I asked her.
   Another smile. “I know you have no living family, Captain. Nor you, Sergeant. I do my research carefully.”
   “You’ve been spying on us, have you?” Flynn exclaimed.
   “I had to, Sergeant. I have a plan, nay, not a plan, rather a wild idea, a hope. Thus it was that I asked the Council to allow me to commandeer Captain Kregan for my next mission. I am not without influence, so they acquiesced to my request.”
   “This plan being to capture a Baylok, transport it to Stonehenge and, once deposited within the Henge circle, see what becomes of it?” I supplied.
   “Oh no, Captain. I already know what will happen to any of the creatures placed within the circle of stones. No. What I need to discover is why it happens.”
   I could barely keep up with the woman.
   “But…I mean…that is…” I waved a hand.
   “What happens to the buggers then, lassie?” Flynn managed in my place.
   Nikola Storm looked at us with deadly seriousness. “They disappear. Completely. They vanish. One moment they are within the circle, the next they have gone. How or where to I know not. It is that we must discover the answer to.”
   I took a deep breath. “Right. I see. So how do we uncover the answer to that?”
   “We must journey to London. There is a place there, if it still exists, that will supply us, I hope, with the answers I seek.”
   I shook my head. “Miss Storm. I admire your determination, but London was burning to the ground when I left only a day or so ago. The whole city is a’fire. The Bayloks have control of the streets. They have a gauntlet around the outskirts of the city. A gauntlet of steel, wherein they are capturing and imprisoning our fellow humans who escape the inferno that London has become. It would be suicide to attempt to enter London now.”
   Nikola Storm looked at me. “Nevertheless, Captain Kregan, It is to London I go. With you or without you.”
   “Whereabouts in London are you aiming for then?” asked Flynn.
   “The British Museum. Somewhere inside its walls I hope to find detailed records of Stonehenge. The myths, the legends and, hopefully, the truth about those mysterious standing stones. The Bayloks rightly fear the Henge and any other place that has similar oddities. We need to know why, and quickly!”

*          *          *

[Shalako-Lin]

The British Museum! Oh goody, I dare say .

[JennyWren]

Still going strong, hope to read more

[Jaqhama]

This is shaping up to just as great as your previous effort.  Each instalment has me on the edge of my seat. 

Glad you're enjoying it, James.

As with the Gaslight Fantasy adventure I'm just making it up as I go along.
Which shows what a weird and wacky imagination I have. 

[Jaqhama]

Still going strong, hope to read more

I try and write a page every couple of nights.
Bit busy at the moment.
Night job I've worked at for five years is finishing at 0600 hrs this morning. (Spending tonight packing up and clearing my desk etc, so no time for another page right now.)
Looks like my next job won't start for about 2 weeks later.
So between some trail biking in the mid-west of NSW I'll also be able to write some more of this saga.
Don't fear, I have no intention of stopping until the story finds a conclusion...and that is some time away I suspect.

Cheers: Jaq.