Heavensent


Heavensent 4.4

Navigation in the mountains was all about landmarks, triangulating one peak against another gave a plane’s location. Over the ocean, there were no visual pointers and Jay was triangulating to radio sources.

By now they had flown into the new day and in all directions they could see the haze grey where the sky and horizon merged. Occasional specks of white trailed behind boats, but they were the only indications of life.

The directional receiver in the nose had located four radio sources. The angles to these tallied with Jay’s mental arithmetic on air speed and wind direction. “Come about two degrees south.” She told Reed. The plane banked lightly and the rest of the wing followed. They had been describing a shallow zig-zag about their plotted course. “The wing drop tanks are almost empty. I will empty them and release them. No point in wasting fuel dragging them.”

“We must be nearing the point of no return.”

“We just passed it. I only hope we can keep our feet dry in this direction.”

Heavensent 4.5
Heavensent 4.3
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 4.3

“It looks like a boat, of sorts, slung under a wing.” Gim reported of the dot far off to the west.

“I’ll light the signal fire.” Sheel announced. Every scrap of wood too rotten to use had been piled up ready for just this moment.

“What do we tell them? About how we got here.” Bobb asked.

“If they spot us. That we crashed, of course. Test flying a winged boat just like theirs.” Gim shifted his attention to the horizon, “I can’t be certain, but I think there’s the vaguest of smoke trails over there. They must be accompanying a ship.”

The fire was now hot enough for Sheel to drop algae crusted wet wood on it. With hisses and crackles a white smoke tower rose above the island.

“It’s coming about.”

“They’ve seen us?”

“No, I think that was a planned course change, but we’re right in front of them now.”

The flying boat stopped its previous zig-zag course and headed straight for the island. It passed overhead, clipping the smoke tower, which curled around the memory of the wing. It made another pass, testing wind direction, before landing to the south. Gim, Bobb and Sheel jogged down to the shore to greet it.

There was a clear blister just behind the wing. It contained guns, one of which was pointed in the general direction of the islanders. A hatch opened in front of the wing and crewmen leapt out. They hitched ropes around hooks on the front and rear of the boat section and pulled it up against the shore.

Now a woman appeared in the hatch. Her uniform was finer, more formal, than the two holding the boat steady. She spoke a language that the three castaways only just understood. “How you here?” was the heart of the message.

“Crashed, wash up.” Gim used hand signals to augment his stilted reply.

The officer studied the island, spotting the camp. She came to a decision. “Board now. Come.”

They were helped aboard the flying boat and pointed to seats in the rear of the hull. A crewman with a handgun watched over them. The officer went forward and the plane began taxiing across the waves. She returned with three pairs of goggles. “Wear.”

The lenses of the goggles were completely blacked out. Gim, Bobb and Sheel shared a look, but pulled the blindfolds on without further questions.

Heavensent 4.4
Heavensent 4.2
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 4.2

The Lang was christened in a chaotic ceremony involving a freshly killed river reptile and copious wine. He became Morn and the man he honoured became Old Morn.

Wild men and women performed acrobatics between branches over the waterfall and fires were floated into the lake beyond. All the while, gifts of equipment and advice were piled upon Morn. As the pile grew, Old Morn took him aside. “You have met my children?”

“You seem to have a lot of them.” Old Morn was father to all the strays that found their way this far up stream.

“The twins.” They were organising the gifts, tall, dark Plains folk. “I am a little concerned for them.”

“They seem healthy enough.”

“Physically, and in brain power, yes. But, I fear, emotionally….. Their parents fled to the forest, seasons before the invasion. A political matter over leadership. They were tracked down, but they had hidden the children. The twins had to rely on each other for many seasons before I found them. They are close. I fear they are too close. It would not be healthy.”

“No, it would not. But what can I do about it?”

“I shall gift you my boat. It needs a crew of two, and either of them would be a fine First. I think Marra will be most interested. She is the more mature of the pair, and she is the one who goes to the high points and stares out at the Plains. Perhaps you can talk to her about it.”

“What about the boy? Will he not be upset by this development?”

“Almost as much as I. But then he will have strong claim to my place when the time comes. It will be for the best all round.”

“Very well. Make your gift known and I shall talk with her about my crewing requirements.”

Heavensent 4.3
Heavensent 4.1
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 4.1

The flight crews that assembled in the rock hangar were not as enthusiastic as their new equipment deserved. They had all seen the pictures. They had each been through the stages and no longer lied to themselves that being there would have made a difference. Alive and angry, they were ready for a mission that would end in revenge.

Reed held them to a silence in respect of the crews and personnel who had died at their old base. Uncharacteristically, he made the sign of the Silver Tower, extending it into the circular motion above his head that signalled engines start.

They rolled out of the hangar onto the drained strip, turned right, taxied to the end and awaited their turn to take off. In the dark a parallax arrow was the only one thing to keep them pointing straight on take off. Reed throttled up, releasing the brakes at maximum thrust. Laden with wing tanks full of fuel the powerful Killer Wasp still managed to clear the ground without the aid of the kicker ramp at the end of the runway.

Organisation was crisp, they managed to send off a plane every thirty counts. In the air they stayed low, following the moonlight on the river down the valley. Some inhabitants were out to see them off despite the late hour. Some howled or waved whilst others watched in silence, pretending stoicism despite the rousing sight. No plane climbed to cruising altitude until they were over the flood plain. With luck, the ruse would give any distant observer a false idea of where the planes were launching from.

As the Wasps and Cicciles began to form up, Jay could finally split the seal on the flight plan. Her continued silence prompted Reed to look over. “So, where are we going?”

“Nowhere.”

“What? We just turn back and….”

“No. Not that simple. We have to fly out across the ocean.”

“Even with wing tanks we cannot make that distance.”

Jay had a hand lamp. She shone it on the expanse of blue map. A circle marked their final destination, but there was not even a dot of land within it. “There are radio locators along the route, and somewhere the other side of the safe return distance we will pick up a signal to guide us to our destination, apparently.”

Reed turned on his radio, clicking to the agreed channel. “Wasps and Cicciles. All present?”

“Three lost an engine. They are continuing to the crash strip.” Two reported. None of them could return to Dreamland for security reasons.

“All present and correct.” Reported the Ciccile wing leader.

“I suppose you have all read your maps by now. Who offended Command so much they are sending us for burial at sea?” No laughter over the airwaves, this was not a night for humour. “Safe spread over the sky. You should always be able to see at least two other planes. Come about to Oh- Five- Seven and prepare for a long flight.”

Heavensent 4.2
Heavensent 3.9
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 3.9

Five Corkscrews acted as escorts, their push-pull propellers working hard to keep darting ahead of the wing. All six planes were operating at a few thousand spans, practically on the ground compared to the wing’s maximum altitude. They could see farm buildings and occasional small towns, but very few military installations. So far their intelligence had been excellent, but the ‘screws stayed on fighter cover or ahead ready to strafe.

Harren decided to forgo his usual mid flight tour of the craft, there just wasn’t the room for it today. Instead he turned on the remote talker, “All stations report.”

They replied in the determined order- light gunnery, heavy gunnery, bombs, engineering and navigation. “We are on schedule, and have yet to face opposition. The drop to attack altitude begins soon. Gentlemen, I look forward to fighting alongside you.”

The navigator announced, “Point Bella reached, drop to a thousand counts.” Harren pushed the stick forward. “Come right to Oh Three Four.”

The wing wasn’t as agile with a full load of weapons, but still made the turn with the minimum of fuss. They were very close to the target now, and ahead there was a military convoy heading diagonally across their path. “Fighting faces everyone. Stereo, do you want to clear the way?”

“Smite, this is Stereo One. We shall clear the leaves from the road.”

The corkscrews formed up in a V and accelerated toward the convoy. They only made one pass, leaving fires and explosions in their wake, before climbing back to air support.

“Heavy weapons, the target is in view. Time to deploy.” Harren turned on the optics and studied the airfield. There was some movement, but not the complete panic of realisation. The wing shook as the front bomb bay opened and the guns were lowered into position. The four low recoil cannons, or stonks as they were called for the noise they made, rotated about a shaft. In the lower position they fired, in the upper they reloaded. The view on the optic shifted left and right as the gunner chose likely targets. Then he started firing.

Twelve rounds were fired in as many counts and the bomb bay was closing before the third one had even hit. Harren kept the plane steady, snatching glimpses of the destruction. The blister bays on the outer edges of the wing opened, dropping rockets that ignited when they had dropped twelve spans.

The line of planes on the runway exploded one after the other. Now there was movement, panicked running for cover, or to anti air defences. The two digit cannons in the leading edge of the wing opened up, cutting down the fleeing figures and splitting open soft skins. The rear bomb bay opened. As the wing cut low across the airfield it scattered the first load of bomblets and mines across the runway and ammunition sheds. A great explosion levelled most of the buildings on the northern side of the runway.

While the wing made a long, lazy turn to approach from the west, the Corkscrews attacked any of the anti airs they could see. A pair of tripod mounted autoguns caught one of the attackers in a cross fire, punching holes in the wing. As the Corkscrew tried to bank away, the wing collapsed around the damage and it began a slow death roll. The remaining four Corkscrews hammered the autogun positions.

The low recoil cannons were deployed again for the wing’s second pass, only fours shots this time. Aiming for the smoke of the shattered armoury, the second load of bomblets and mines were spread the length of the runway. There was enough loaded for a third run, but there was nothing left to destroy. The wing began ascending to cruising height. Ahead, the Corkscrews formed their flying V. The position of their fallen comrade, second from the right, was left empty.

Heavensent 4.1
Heavensent 3.8
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 3.8

As a collaborator, Aylo’s life should have been at risk every time he left his house. However, there were enough people- with enough influence- in the neighbourhood who knew the truth. He could even enter this darkest of the dock drinkeries without fear and talk to two of the toughest gang bosses. “I think he is conflicted.”

“He is a Southerner.”

“His mother was of the city, and he grew nearly twenty seasons here. I also think he is the type that is attracted to men, me in particular.”

“Pfah! That is the sort of arrogance that got your brother killed.”

Aylo struggled for a retort. The old man across the table put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I knew your husband. He was only doing what he thought was right.”

“We were lucky he was unidentified.”

“Maybe one day he will be recognised as a hero of the resistance.” Aylo offered weakly.

“As will we all, hopefully. What information do you have?”

Blessed with a photographic memory, Aylo could do without carrying incriminating copies around. “They are sending two hundred troops out onto the Plains to search for the people sabotaging the railroads.”

“Who is sabotaging the railroads?”

“I think they are chasing shadows. It removes troops from the city.”

The man nodded, “Anything else?”

“Paper and a scriber.” Both appeared from the woman’s direction. Aylo drew a plan of the marshalling yards. “There was a report, about an air raid in the mountains. At a training camp for mountain troops. There have been a number of air raids in the region recently. None of them knows what it means.” He circled the most vulnerable junctions, the ones where traffic was too high.

“Neither do I. If I did know, it would be unwise to tell it to one who walks into the enemy’s offices every day.”

“You are right. Of course.” Aylo downed his ale. “I am just inquisitive. There is talk of naval manouevres along the coast. The dredgers in the channel south of Stran are working double shifts. They only do that when the truly large ships are due in. I should go.” Aylo passed the paper and scriber back across the table. Turning to the woman, he finally asked, “How is my nephew?”

“He misses his father.” She looked directly at Aylo to add, “And his uncle.”

“Yes. Well….. With luck, this shall be all over soon.”

Heavensent 3.9
Heavensent 3.7
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 3.7

The low, barn-like structure the tri-motor had been wheeled into was a sham. The rear opened onto an old quarry working that had been roofed over to create a huge hangar. There were another two of Horse’s supply fleet and an old Albo that had been refitted with an arsenal of defensive autoguns. There were other shapes, asymmetrical and vaguely familiar, in the shadows.

An officer approached Horse and Reed, saluted them and made the sign of the Silver Tower. “Welcome back sir. You must be commander Reed.”

“Yes. This,” Reed had felt her appear at his elbow, “is my bombardier, Jayn.”

The officer saluted Jayn. “If you will come this way sir, madam. The rest of your flight will be settled into their billets.”

“We are getting a tour of Dreamland?” Jayn squeaked. “Are we cleared for that?”

“This complex is currently locked down. You cannot leave to tell anyone about it. And your next posting is,” he smirked, “remote, shall we say.”

Lights were coming on in the far end of the hangar, randomly revealing details. “Those are Slender Wasps.” Reed was disappointed.

“No. Those are larger than Slender Wasps. And what has happened to the engine boom?” Jay wanted to rush ahead and investigate.

“Killer Wasps. Not the most imaginative name, I admit. We have built upon the original’s strengths- the strong backbone and excellent handling characteristics- and completely changed the engines. There is now only one cylinder engine, it has been fitted with two stage supercharging, and the pipe coming out of the rear of the boom is an expander motor. You cruise on the cylinders and use the expander for extra power in take off and combat. We have also pressurised the cabin. It can fly higher and faster, and still negotiate narrow valleys just as well. You shall be taking this flight to your new posting.”

Up close, Reed studied his new plane. The crew boom was familiar, though undoubtedly larger, and he could make out the double thick glass. The engine boom had bulges and inlets for the superchargers and a ring of airscoops for the expander engine. He had heard about this new technology, though everyone had claimed it was temperamental and fragile. At least there was a reliable engine to limp home on when the worst happened. The plane was painted a light blue grey on the underside and a broken darker blue- grey on top. This was not any mountain camouflage that Reed knew. “Where is our posting?”

“I cannot tell you that, sir. Come this way and I shall show you some more of the ‘toys’ we have been working on.” A tunnel ran to the next hangar quarry. Cabling and lights hung from nails hammered into the rock. “These will be your escorts on combat missions.” The strange beast was a single seater, painted in a similar scheme to the Killer Wasps. The engine, and a pusher propeller, was behind the pilot, twin tails sprouted from the wing and were joined by a large rear flap. The long nose housed a six-barrel rotating autogun and there were mountings under the wing for bombs, rockets or drop tanks. “This is a Ciccile.”

“Cheecheel?” Jay reddened at her poor pronunciation.

“They are ten legged hunting insects which can jump great distances, are very agile and have a deadly bite. When the Southern army broke through onto the plains, some of the designers flew the prototypes over the mountains and demanded sanctuary on our side. It was better than any interceptors we were working on at the time.”

There were other planes on display, single examples. “Our rogues gallery.” The officer commented. There was a battered metal thing that looked like an arrowhead and had no landing gear, a stubby prop plane with short deep wings and a huge engine, a box with no wings but horizontal windmill blades and a model of a bomber with twin fuselages and eight engines. “Some of them will see production yet.”

Jay had taken Reed’s hand, “I feel quite excited.”

“Military hardware turns you on? I will have to remember that.”

Heavensent 3.8
Heavensent 3.6
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 3.6

One of the sealed reports covered what little had been determined from the destruction of a training camp in the mountains. It was supposed that an air raid had levelled the complex, though no aeroplanes had been seen before or after the attack and analysis of the pattern of explosions and burn was inconclusive. Boran put the report aside after skim reading. If requested, he would consider designing camps to reduce the risk from such attacks.

Eventually, Janssen called. Boran picked up some paperwork which required initialling and went upstairs to his superior’s office. Janssen was in the antechamber, contemplating the large model of the fjord and great lake beyond it. He pointed at the large island that choked the sea’s entry to the great tidal lake. “They want to move command of my district to the base on Stran Island. Can you imagine that?”

“No sir.”

“I told them. It does not have the infrastructure, I told them. How can I hope to manage the logistics of the supply line if I cannot visit the marshalling yards or the docks.” Or the pross houses, his mistresses and the steadily increasing store of plunder he was accumulating, Boran completed silently.

“About the marshalling yards sir. They are having problems coping with the increased traffic. It would be advantageous to build new through tracks.”

“With what? I do not have the budget since they insisted I build defences for an attack that will not come. Of course, they shall blame me for their own short sightedness. Enough of this, what about the sabotage on the Plains? What are you doing about it?”

“I have just received the report sir. It suggests a lack of maintenance rather than deliberate damage.”

“Never. Nook is one of my most trusted deputies. A supply train derailed, that does not just happen by accident. Have some troops sent out there.”

“We do not have many troops to spare sir.”

“Nonsense. The seaward batteries are even less use than the glacier ones. Send a few of them before they get too fat to fit their gunnery seats.”

“Yes sir. Is there anything else?”

“No. No. Just go and see to these things.”

“If I may, sir?”

“What? You have things to do, you know?”

“I think the current flow of food into the city is insufficient to support the workers.” He laid a sheet of numbers on the map.

“Nonsense. The evidence of Reff shows that these people can survive on far less than I am giving them.” Janssen swept the paper onto his desk, at least having the good grace not to throw it into the bin whilst Boran was present. “Now go and do what I require of you.”

“Yes sir.”

Heavensent 3.7
Heavensent 3.5
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 3.5

Note I missed yesterday’s Heavensent update. No real reason, I just forgot. Normally I line up the week’s posts on Monday and hold them as drafts until I publish them. This week I forgot to do that. Oooops.

Boran shuffled paper across his desk. Production reports, intelligence reports, statistics for port usage. Lots of things he could look at but not change without permission. The door opened and his assistant bore another armful of documents. “I thought you were going down to the docks?”

“Janssen….. Commander Janssen has something more important to see me about. He just has not called for me yet.” The young man smiled at his boss. There was only a few years difference in their ages- when he still lived in the city Boran could have played in the municipal park with Aylo. Now he had to be guarded in what he said, for both their sakes. A shame, Aylo was a handsome man. “What do you have for me?”

“Traffic reports from the railroad. There is a bottleneck becoming evident in the southern marshalling yards. A report of possible sabotage on the Plains, though it looks to me as if someone is trying to cover for failing in their routine maintenance duties. And these, which are eyes only sealed.” Aylo dropped the last three bundles with a hint of anger. So hard, in fact, that the seal on the top one popped off.

“How are conditions in the city?”

“Sir?”

“Not the propaganda about the people of Cora and Munss welcoming their liberation. How are people coping, really? I know that the amount of food coming into the cities- and staying- is a lot lower for the civilian population than it was last fat season. It will be the long nights soon enough, and if we have been starving people through the fat season that is when they will start dying.”

“There are those who would benefit from more food, sir. That is always true.”

“The young, the old and the sick?”

“Sir.”

“I will suggest to Commander Janssen that too many deaths amongst the citizenry would have an adverse effect upon the workers and consequently production. He may respond.”

“Thank you sir.” Aylo turned to leave, “If I may say so sir, you are certainly more considerate than many in the command.”

“Thank you Aylo. Do not tell anyone else that though.”

“Sir.”

Heavensent 3.6
Heavensent 3.4
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 3.4

They had marched hard for two days, making the most of the pack animals to speed their movements, then eaten them and cut over into another valley on foot. Now they were approaching their planned base. Mov had scouted and reported the road was so overgrown it couldn’t have been used for several seasons.

The construction had collapsed in several places, mostly where it clung to the steepest cliff face, but a way could always be found in single file. Near the head of the valley, it found its way back onto firm ground. There was machinery here- old, steam driven things rusting in overgrown parks. Ahead, a large scar in the mountain face was just visible behind screens of trees.

The scar was an arched tunnel mouth. There was more machinery here, steam driven tracked trucks and a large conveyor bearing rocks from the darkness. Halfway through a shift, everyone had downed tools and left. “What is this place?” Rey asked.

“The Karr tunnel.” Lensman told him, “One of the greatest engineering failures of all time. It was supposed to join the east and west sides of the range far to the south of the Arril pass. They broke countless machines, killed a hundred or so workers and then just ran out of money. It bankrupted my mother’s side of the family.”

“This is to be our base of operations? Do the southerners know of its existence?”

“Everyone knows of it, but very few think about it. Besides, it is a very defensible position. We rest here for a few days and then start expeditions.”

Kess and Mov were already marking out fire zones for defence. They had found a steam shovel, the bucket resting on an outcrop. “This ferrous must be two or three digits thick. We could mount an autogun in here and catch them as they come up the road.”

Mov nodded, “It would be very hard to get above us as well. On the nearside here, they would have to cross our field of fire before they could even start climbing. And on the far side, it is hardly to their advantage.”

“We can set up trip mines and calibrate the bomb lobbers to hit the far side of that rise. Unless they send an army after us it will be another unfair fight.”

“You say that like it is a bad thing, youngster.”

Heavensent 3.5
Heavensent 3.3
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 3.3

The tri-motor banked and pointed itself east along the valley. A river lazily wound its way to the plain beyond, a spur feeding a large rectangular reservoir. There was forest and pasture on the northern slopes and mills and light industrial buildings on the southern. There was no airstrip.

“Did we read the map correctly?” Reed wondered.

“Two of the best pilots in the world getting lost? I think not.” Horse chuckled. “Watch, this is very clever.”

There was activity by the reservoir. Sluice gates on the feed channel were wound shut, and those on the drain channel opened. As Horse lined up his landing, the water level dropped sufficiently to reveal tar pack only a few digits below the surface.

“Flaps down.”

“Flaps down.” Reed echoed, mesmerised by the hidden runway.

“Gear down.”

“Gear down.”

They cleared the dyke at the western end and gently touched down, raising spray behind. Horse only needed two thirds of the runway to get to taxiing speed. He pulled off the main runway, pointed to a ramp and cut the engines. The doors of the nearest building had opened and more ground crew and a light tractor were rushing over to them. Before the plane had even been pulled to the ramp, the water was flowing back into the reservoir.

“I had heard of this place. I never believed it really existed.”

“Well now you know. Welcome to Dreamland, just wait until you see the toys they have for you.”

Heavensent 3.4
Heavensent 3.2
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 3.2

They had taken crude measurements and determined the island’s daily path. It described a rough ellipse- north and west as the tide rose, then south and east as it waned. Always, on the horizon in one direction or another, heavier swells than they sailed in could be seen breaking against some underwater obstruction.

The dead zone was a natural trap for flotsam. On the third day Bobb spotted a wooden barrel floating close to the north shore and swam it in. Salt water had leached in to corrupt the alcoholic contents, but the metal bands that held it together, and the wood itself, could be put to use. The metal was fashioned into a grapple and attached to the length of rope to haul in floating material without getting wet feet. Small strips became a barbed points and Sheel quickly became adept at harpooning fish.

Day by day the camp grew. A great expanse of rubberised canvas became both a bivouac off the single tree and a night-time collector of condensing dew. Bottles gave up their contents and became storage or were fashioned into lenses for the solar still and cooker Gim was building. They had even started farming- after a fashion- cultivating furrows of the algae for soups and planting seeds from the few fruit that washed up whole.

Sheel was at the fishing hole they had hacked through the roots near the shore. She had baited it with handfuls of the surface algae, so much richer than the stuff that grew below the waterline, and was waiting with a harpoon. Bobb watched as she shifted slightly. There was a movement just at the edge of light’s penetration, but she didn’t aim directly at it. Slightly to the right there was another movement, closer to the surface, the coil of a long thin body tracking the smaller fish. Sheel threw the harpoon with the whole of her body. It dug into its target, and moved sharply as the eel reacted. Grasping the very end of the long harpoon handle, Sheel used all her weight to drive it through the eel’s body.

Bobb made for one of the smaller spare harpoons, but Sheel, spotting him for the first time, shook her head and pointed at the rope trailing out of the fishing hole. They hauled back and brought the eel to the surface. Its head broke water and flailed around, a many eyed, multi toothed thing like the one Sheel had described after her trip under the island.

“Damn! I should have hit it nearer the brain.” Sheel let out some slack and stepped a safe distance from the eel. Now she nodded at the other harpoons. Bobb picked one and circled around behind her. The eel’s eyes weren’t made for use out of water. It could see two shapes moving around it, with no clue which was closer or the greater threat. It feinted toward the smaller shape, which moved quickly away.

Bobb watched the eel whip toward Sheel and took the opportunity to jump in. He drove the harpoon home just behind the great jaws, pushing it through and wedging it in the ground.

“You missed the brain.” Sheel pointed out.

“Only by a little.” Bobb lied. They had cut up their first catch and identified the various organs. The primary stomach was just behind the jaws, directly behind a sphinctered gullet. Much further back, in a bulge under the first dorsal fin, was the brain. Sheel took the last harpoon and pushed it between the overlapping plates protecting the brain.

The eel still twitched, it would take a long time for all its nerves to process their final signals. They didn’t watch it, walking to the shore and staring at the nearest surf line. “That was the biggest so far.” Bobb commented.

“This end of our territory seems the most fertile for life, like the other has the richest plunder.”

“How long do you think we’ll be out here?”

“Possibly for ever. Maybe until the seasons change and storms rip our little home apart. We can live long enough to see either eventuality.”

“I’ll go for the first one. I don’t imagine this place grew to this size between storm seasons. If there are any.

“Do you remember the stories of the outposters? How they survived for generations cut off from supply routes and outside communication.”

“You’re asking me to have your children?” Sheel laughed, then checked the look on Bobb’s face. “And Gim’s too? I mean, if you’re looking at breeding generations of descendants, you want them to start with as wide a gene pool as possible, don’t you.”

“You weren’t meant to take the suggestion that seriously. It was just an idea.”

“It stays an idea. I still think we’ll be rescued from our little paradise.”

The eel had stopped twitching. They set about cutting it up with knives fashioned from glass.

Heavensent 3.3
Heavensent 3.1
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 3.1

It was an inspiring sight. All ten of the wings in service were finally together. They were carefully arranged in a crescent, with the mountains behind and crews in front, for a commemorative picture.

After the sixth exposure, for good luck, the crews broke and the tractors came to back the wings into the hangars. The ground crew were nervous, there was only clearance of a few digits from the tips of the wings to the hangar walls. It would not do to damage the pride of the Southern air force through clumsy reversing.

Harren watched, not really worried, then waved to the pilot of one of the other wings. Mirl was another veteran of the Stumps. He had been looking at the sorry collection of them that had been evicted in favour of the wings. “By the Tower, I had hoped to never see another of those things. Two days now since I arrived here and I can see them from my billet. I swear the deserter squadrons did not know what they were in for, or they would have taken the trip to the prison camps with their countrymen.”

They walked across the runway. At the far, western, end there were two thousand spans of new tar pack, still glossy black and incompletely cured. Tall seed grasses flanked the runway. They supplied the base with some of its food, and would stop a Stump that missed a landing. Hitting the field with a wing would turn it into so much chaff.

The wind grew. The seed grass rustled. On the far side of the river, dust raised and whorled around unseen attractors. “Why no farm land on that side?” Harren asked.

“The base commander wanted a good field of fire.” Mirl pointed out the guard towers arrayed from the northern edge of the base to the southern. “The river comes down from the mountains and bows around the base. Makes quite a good defensive line, but the seed grass grows taller than a man. A small force could sneak right to the river and cross at its shallowest point. So he ordered a thousand span killing zone in every direction. Cut everything down and sowed the ground with caustic and salt so nothing could grow on it.”

“Drastic.”

“This is a deserter squadron. The Plains people hate the deserters more than us. One of the flight crews went off base just before I arrived, and never came back. They were found yesterday, hanging from trees with spikes through their hands and feet and with their bellies split open so the insects could eat them alive.”

They passed the control tower, with its new RADIF array on the roof. “The base commander is sending the rest of the squadron up tomorrow to bomb the nearest town.”

“Will that stop other attacks?”

“More likely it will inspire them. Look at these.” Off to their left there was a large break in the seed grass. Nearly a hundred plane carcasses, biplane bombers, were parked haphazardly together. Some had been broken in the process; one large bunch had burnt, twisting together.

“Albos.”

“The same. The deserters flew these, before we put them in Stumps. They would be better planes, with decent engines. The ones they used could barely even move my motor trike. It would have been cheaper to refit those.”

“But it would not have looked as good.” Harren remembered the propaganda pictures of the Plains Loyalists, as the deserters were officially known, receiving the first of their superior Southern aeroplanes.

The flight crews were converging on a small building near the barracks. “The seed ale is an acquired taste,” Mirl commented, “but the mechanics have a still which turns out a nasty liquor.”

“I am not going to try and drink you under the table. I learnt that lesson last time.”

Heavensent 3.2
Heavensent 2.10
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 2.10

Horse had been a fighter pilot, back in the days of biplanes held together by string and prayers. He had fought in the Glacier War and was credited with ten kills, though he only accepted seven of them. Either figure made him the highest scoring veteran of the conflict still flying. Somewhere along the line he had foregone his given name and started going by his call sign, even after starting an air courier service upon discharge. After growing fat and happy on the profits he had allowed the company to be integrated with the Air Army as the supply division, as long as he could fly active service. The lure of battle took him to supply drops and spy landings, but today he was a passenger carrier to the chosen crews of Wasp squadron 3.

Reed took the co-pilot’s seat when it was offered. “Why not take your planes with you?” Horse enquired as he lined up along the main runway.

“Some younger crews are being rotated in, to get experience in the mountains. Maybe combat, the way events are progressing.”

“There is definitely going to be combat. Something is coming I can tell you. It is only a little activity at each of my stops, but it all adds up.”

“You do not gossip out of town about this, I hope.”

Horse guffawed as he throttled up. “I never get out of town. Everyone I know, eat with, drink with or sleep with serves in some way. Have you clipped that luscious new bombardier of yours yet? A nice looking one, her, none too fat, but nicely rounded.” They pulled off the ground, banked away from the mountains and began to climb.

“Have you clipped your co-pilot? Larin is not on this flight, I notice.”

“Clipped her and promised to her. The medics have her off flying for a while, just in case.”

Reed considered this for a while. “There is a little Horse on the way?”

“The first. Well, the first that I know of. I liberated a lot more than just Cora in the Glacier War, if you understand me.”

Heavensent 3.1
Heavensent 2.9
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 2.9

The Plains only looked flat. Rain and melt water etched gullies across the landscape. The larger were steep edged chasms, the smaller hid in the seed grass and could trap the unwary rider or crack the axles of non-tracked vehicles.

One of these lesser cracks had run up to the express rail tracks across the Plains. Water from a flash downpour had gouged the easiest way toward lower ground, until it met the steel, wood and gravel barrier. Culverts had been built under the tracks to funnel the wash into an ditch that ran along the western side of the tracks and fed several irrigation reservoirs. However, several of the culverts were clogged up with dirt and waterproofed hides. It had been a wishful attempt at sabotage. Any half thorough check would reveal it before any damage was done, but no such check had been forthcoming.

The water pooled for hundreds of spans along the track’s length until it reached the top of the bank and took the path of least resistance. As the flow rate increased, the wash began to carry fine silt, then coarse sand and finally the gravel itself away from the rail bed. Eventually the rails and sleepers were resting on a bed of air for a distance of twenty spans.

The next work crew was due in a few days time, but there were two huge freight trains to come before then. Each carried a days produce from Reff- rolled steel, tubing, cutlery and more- to the fabrication plants south of Cora and Munss. Four locomotives were necessary to pull the great weight of the train, and its inertia once up to speed was legendary. There were ships that could come to a halt faster.

Since the invasion, attacks against the express tracks- especially this eastern one- had been a regular occurence. Hence a defensive wagon was coupled to the front of the great train. It was about the size of a standard coal carrier, but with a squat pyramidal shape of slanting armour. Heavy autoguns protruded from all sides and the forward corners and there was an anti air cupola on the top that doubled as a spotter’s perch. Every so often the captain of the anti-air would interrupt his scanning of the Plain to stare ahead to where the tracks distorted and disappeared into the heat haze.

He spotted the stain of washed out gravel far too late, and hesitated before reporting it to the chief driver. The collaborator in the front engine quickly guessed what the stain was. He swung the great steam brake lever into the full lock position. Steam was purged from the drive system and the engine disappeared in it’s own cloud. Then the shoes jammed down on the drive wheels, raising sparks and glowing red then yellow.

The second locomotive pushed hard into the first, hard enough to trip its own braking system. The crew of the defensive wagon were shaken and battered as the signal rippled along the length of the train in a series of collisions. The anti air captain was thrown from his position, stood on one of the gun’s seats for a better view. He hit the angled bank of the ditch and slid and twirled down it.

The unsupported rails bent under the weight of the defensive wagon, but didn’t buckle or throw it off. Just as the crew began to believe they were safe, the front locomotive hit the gap and sank into the hole. The wagon reared up as its rear was pulled down, then twisted and flipped over. The anti air cupola became so much scrap before the locomotive mounted the wagon, collapsing the armoured compartment and pushing the remnants along like a wrecker blade.

From his resting place in the ditch, the anti air captain could see his former office tearing up sections of track. Eventually the second locomotive kicked out and twisted the wreckage before it around. The third locomotive hit the second side on. The steam explosion threw it up into the air, where it twisted around to land upside down. The fourth loco slewed into the ditch and slid along on its side.

Wagons were rushing past him, brake blocks sparking but not keeping them from the the carnage ahead. Derailment was transferred up the line as wagons hit the backs of each other. There was a crash and shriek and the captain’s position was blotted out by shadow. The ground shook as the wagon hit the ground on the far side of the ditch and tipped over. Mere spans ahead of the captain chunks of coal the size of his head rained into the ditch.

There were other crashes and rumbles receding into the distance. Hands over his head the captain wept with terror. Eventually he noticed the relative silence of spinning wheels and fires. Rising to a crouch he reached out and touched the body of the wagon above him. His left arm was broken, and blood and mud coated his face from a gash across his scalp, but he could walk. After a number of false starts he managed to drag himself up the edge of the ditch and survey the damage.

Some of the rear wagons, about a quarter of the train’s immense length, hadn’t tipped over or spilled their loads. Figures were swarming from the rear engineers’ car. Some spotted him and started running in his direction.

Heavensent 2.10
Heavensent 2.8
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 2.8

From above, the great river suddenly appeared from the forests, its tributaries were so shaded by overgrowth. Few from the outside had dared track its true source. One way or another, none had returned.

There was a village in among the trees, fugitives from the war which raged further south and wild men they had befriended. It was hard to spot, and impossible to approach undetected. The Lang made his arrival known well in advance. Coming from upstream on his three log raft his provenance was obvious. None of his observers raised a weapon.

A waterfall roared ahead, but there were landing stages well before the rapids began. Figures began to crowd the nearest stage. With careful strokes, the Lang headed for it.

The crowd drew back, leaving only one figure, a tall bearded man in a grey one-piece outfit with more pockets than seemed necessary. The Lang sprang up to the stage, converting his landing to a deep bow. Five young dockers leapt down and had his raft tied to before he spoke. “Sir, I request your permission to pass.” It was one of the Plains dialects, he hoped he had judged the chieftain correctly.

The bearded man bowed deeply in reply, “Sir, it would be our honour to help you on your way. I am Morn, could I presume to ask your name?”

“I have yet to take one. It would be an honour to assume yours for my travels.”

The crowd whooped and the chieftain could not contain his grin. Such recognition from a holy man was more than any could hope for. “It is more than I deserve. Our pathetic village is yours for as long as you wish to stay.”

Heavensent 2.9
Heavensent 2.7
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 2.7

Someone had been discreet enough to listen at the door and slid the orders under it rather than intrude. Reed tucked Jay in and padded across to the envelope.

There were two sheets, held together with a folded and crimped metal strip. In effect it was a list of names, a date and destination, but it had been wrapped up in the usual reminders to maintain secrecy and pack spare underwear.

Jay woke after a few shakes. She blinked at the sheets, skim reading when the sleep was from her eyes. “That is a long way away from the action. And why not send the whole squadron?”

“I do not know. Serena, and a few of the other bombardiers and some of the ground crew were transferred out the same way. Before you came along, of course.”

“Of course.”

“I shall tell them at the briefing. Until then…..?”

“Until then, I am going back to my room.”

Heavensent 2.8
Heavensent 2.6
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 2.6

“I heard that morals in the Air Army were quite lax.”

“Only since we let women in.” Reed stroked the fabric of six’s tailplane. It had been patched up after catching the only flak of the whole mission.

“Did you sleep with your last bombardier?” Jay asked.

“Serena?” The smile said it all. “It is not a requirement of the post.”

“I had promised myself to a boy back home. It was allowed for him to join the infantry and go prossing around the barracks, but as soon as I joined the Air Army he called it off. We are immoral, it would seem.”

Reed laid his arm across Jay’s shoulders and walked with her toward the barracks. “There were women who said they would promise to me. I never heard from them after I transferred here. If no-one out in the world, going about the little lives we shall soon be protecting, is willing to have me then I will take my pleasure on base. If it is offered to me.” They had arrived at Reed’s hut. He gestured inside.

Heavensent 2.7
Heavensent 2.5
Heavensent 1.1

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Heavensent 2.5

There had been the mission debriefing, where they had tried to recall everything they had seen. Now they were getting the political debrief, where they were told what had happened.

The Ideological Officer had taken quite well to the Plains life, filling out and taking colour. But his adherence to the rules was as tight as ever. “What you saw were Northern rockets, designed to land bombs on Reff and destroy our fuel refining capabilities. They stole the technology from us, of course.”

“Of course. Because our rocketry is so advanced.” Karn wasn’t the best at sarcasm. He cast a glance out of the window as he said the words.

“They do not have the resources to do it again. And we shall be exacting revenge for this, as well as a number of other raids I have been informed of. I am confident that this squadron shall be participating.” He was considering each word, plodding them out carefully within doctrine.

Karn perked up. “So we finally get a proper mission?”

“That depends upon you, to an extent.” The officer pulled a large folder from the desk drawer. “These are all legitimate targets. Draw up mission briefs and get back to me.”

Heavensent 2.6
Heavensent 2.4
Heavensent 1.1

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