The Struggle for Empire/Chapter 8
CHAPTER VIII
In the Thick of the Fight
As soon as the main bodies of the fleets were left to themselves, the Anglo-Saxon Admiral-in-Chief noticed that he was outnumbered to the extent of more than two ships to one, for, although a large number of the enemy's ships had departed, they seemed to have obtained a fresh supply from some invisible source. He telegraphed back to the division he had sent in pursuit to rejoin him, but they did not answer or appear. The reason of this was, as they afterwards found out, that the Sirians had sent waves of Ednogen through the surrounding space, so that the Anglo-Saxons could not send any telegraphic messages to their rear. The Admiral then hastened to make up for his bad fortune by bravery and strategy. Line after line of ships advanced against the Sirians until nearly every ship was engaged. The ships moved hither and thither, singly, in lines, and by divisions, pounding away at their adversaries. As soon a ship was reduced to a helpless condition, the torpedo-boats swarmed around it, forcing their terrible explosives into its yawning rents, until it was literally torn to pieces and disembowelled, the massive machinery floating about in space with its wheels still whirling. Sometimes the sides of a ship would be seen to melt and run down as a liquid under the rays which were directed upon them by the anticohesion apparatus, the liquefied metal falling down like rain on to the ships below. Then the sides would become too thin to withstand the strain, and would be blown outwards by the pressure of the air within, scattering the softened and liquid metal far and wide. The torpedo-boats frequently melted and became a mist of vapour from the effect of the terrible rays. Sometimes the rays from different ships clashed together in space, producing blinding sheets of light. Every now and then there was a terrific explosion, when a shell found its way to the magazine of a large battleship, and in a second the vast fabric disappeared, leaving nothing but a cloud of smoke, while its fragments were sent flying to the uttermost ends of space. These explosions were often as destructive to friend as to foe, for no one could tell where the vast fragments would be likely to be thrown. Thousands of shells would be hurled in every direction, exploding whenever they came in contact with a solid body, and filling the space around with blinding flashes of light and dense clouds of smoke. The rams were used whenever there was an opportunity, and then the destruction became appalling. The great battleships dashed into one another with a force that nothing could resist, the ram being frequently vaporized by the heat developed by the impact. Sometimes the ram stuck in the middle of a ship, and the two were locked together and kept on firing at one another until one or both were completely wrecked. Sometimes a ship would dash at another, but when only a little way off, its victim poured out sheets of flame and the attacking vessel was literally beaten back by the force of the shot.
But still the battle continued for hour after hour without either party gaining any advantage. The ships often lay within a few yards of one another exchanging a continual tempest of shot and shell. Flames dashed from ship to ship and leapt back again until the intervening space was one sea of fire. The hulls were scorched and blistered by the heat, and the anti-gravitation apparatus was completely melted.
After the battle had lasted for thirty hours, the ships of friend and foe were mixed together in inextricable confusion. The admirals could no longer control their ships, for it was impossible to see what they were doing amidst the blinding flames and clouds of smoke. Every captain acted for himself, as he thought best. Above, below, and around there was nothing but a mass of floating monsters vomiting flame and smoke, and a vast quantity of wreckage strewn in every direction. The ships floated about seeking and engaging a hostile vessel wherever they could find one.
The hours went slowly by, but still the deadly struggle continued with unabated vigour, for both sides felt that they were contending for the empire of the Universe. The captains still stood at their posts in the midst of the wreckage of what were but a few hours previously such magnificent ships, guiding them with the same calm precision as before. Waves and eddies of vapour, showers of twisted and rent metal, and storms of shot swept around the contending fleets. Whenever a water-tank was burst open, the liquid immediately spurted out and was converted into dense clouds of steam that obscured whole lines of ships from view.
But still the clash and clatter went on. The ships dashed out of the rolling columns of smoke and rammed, fired, and hammered at one another with ceaseless vigour. Sometimes the whole side of a ship was blocked by the whirling masses of wreckage that hung on to the guns and outworks. The destruction was frightful. There was no way of getting out of the refuse of the tremendous conflict. Far and wide over space extended the columns of vapour, the clouds of vaporized metal, and the twisted and scoriated remnants of what were once magnificent ships. When the battle had lasted sixty hours, fully four thousand vessels had been blown to pieces, while nearly all the rest were more or less damaged.
But other forces besides the impact of cannon-shot contributed to the destruction. Many a huge ship electrified its rival's machinery so that it could not move, and when it was thus fascinated, as it were, tore it to pieces bit by bit. Sometimes two or more ships would hold another thus in their grip and tear it to pieces between them, and then go on and seek another victim. Thousands of men were killed by the destructive waves of the force Ednogen, which were focussed on to the ships in which they were fighting. Every now and then some huge ship rushed out of the darkness and rammed another to pieces, and then, staggering along under the shock, was perhaps rammed in its turn or had its sides torn open by torpedoes.
The scene inside many of the ships was appalling. The battle had now lasted for seventy hours without ceasing, and the men were fainting from excessive toil. The heat between the decks was overpowering, for every time a gun was discharged the air became hotter. Every man was stripped to the waist, but even then they were streaming with perspiration. Thousands fell down at their posts from sheer exhaustion, and, as there was no one to take their places, the captains had to cease firing and use their rams and other destroying apparatus until they had recovered from their exhaustion. Every time a compartment was pierced the air rushed out, and all the inmates died, their bodies being frequently burst open by the pressure of the air inside. Without a word of warning the shot came crashing through the armour plating, or a piece of the side was torn off by a torpedo. When the force Ednogen was focussed on to a ship, the men in the part where it fell were suddenly seized by violent spasms. They twisted their bodies into every conceivable form. They writhed on the floor like snakes, they clutched at the guns and levers, and then they fell back dead, the blood streaming from their mouths and nostrils. Sometimes these terrible invisible forces that could pass through metal like air would clash together inside a ship, and then the compartments would be filled with sheets of flame that burnt the inmates to death.
The time passed on until the fight had raged for ninety hours. Admirals and captains fell down at their posts overcome with nervous prostration that resulted from the long duration of the battle. Some of the latter were relieved by their lieutenants, but others persisted in sticking to their posts, until they went raving mad from the tremendous strain. They were carried out of their metal spheres, and other officers took their places. But neither side thought of retiring from the battle area even for a short respite. It was a struggle to see on which side the brain-power of the commanders would hold out longest.
The carnage was terrible on board the Lightning. She had been kept among the reserves during the early hours of the fight, but she had been called into action when the numbers of the fleet began to diminish. Captain Mainton stood ready in his metal sphere, with his hands on the levers, and two officers by his side, waiting for the signal to plunge into the turmoil. Alec Brandon was in the middle of the fifth deck, looking through the windows in the sliding doors to see that every man was at his post. The gunners stood ready at their guns with their fingers on the triggers, and behind them their assistants were receiving the shells as they were hoisted up through the floor from the magazines. At last the signal came from the admiral's ship. The Lightning, with the Majestic, the Morning Star, the Flame, and the Terrible were to advance to the support of the seventh division.
Captain Mainton turned a handle. The dull rumbling of the engines was heard through the ship as it leapt forward into the contest. A moment later the thuds of the shot were heard against its side, and the metal sheathing was pierced in several places. Then Captain Mainton shouted into a telephone. The vessel was wrapped in sheets of flame and clouds of vapour. A terrible roar resounded through every compartment, and the hull quivered from stem to stern as a double broadside was discharged.
'Excellent!' he muttered.
But a moment later his face clouded, and he hastily turned a wheel. The vessel swung round, but there was a shock at the bows that knocked nearly everyone down and made the ship rock from side to side.
'A nasty one that!' remarked the captain; 'nearly had us that time. Now for revenge!'
He gripped the steering-wheel and shouted into another telephone. The vessel swung round, and then dashed forward at a terrific pace. Two minutes later both broadsides were again discharged, and then there was a frightful crash and a shock that seemed as if it would shake the vessel to pieces. The two under-officers looked at the telephotoscope, and saw a great ship just behind them with a yawning rent cut all along its side.
'Very nicely cut,' said the captain.
But the Lightning had not come off scatheless. Thirty-three of her compartments had been pierced, five of her largest guns dismounted and rendered useless, and more than a hundred men killed.
There was next a conflict with torpedo-boats, and these kept fully half of the guns employed in destroying or warding them off. And so the Lightning fought on for hour after hour. Compartment after compartment was pierced and its inmates destroyed. The torpedoes tore off great masses from the metal sheathing, but Captain Mainton handled her well, and she did more damage than she received. When the eightieth hour came, the bows were crushed in by a ram and the sides were torn and riddled by shot until they looked like a sieve; but the machinery was still intact, so she could still hold on her way. When the ninety-fifth hour came, Alec was sent for by the captain. He entered the metal sphere, and found him looking worn and pale and very grave. At his feet lay two lieutenants, who had fallen down at their posts, exhausted by the long duration of the conflict.
'Things are going very bad with us,' he said, in a low voice, as he signed to Alec to take charge of a wheel. 'We are outnumbered; they are too many for us.'
Hour after hour went slowly by, while the captain still worked the ship with the same calm precision. The guns still continued to fire, but the broadsides were not nearly so strong as they had been at first. The scene between the decks was frightful. The guns were dismounted from their carriages, which were twisted into every conceivable shape. Fragments of human bodies were strewn about everywhere, and the floor ran with blood. The air-tight doors had been wrenched off and hurled all over the place. Water-tanks had been pierced, and some of the cylinders where the energy was stored had been wrenched open and produced frightful havoc. When the hundred and eighth hour of the combat struck, the engines responded no more to the movements of the levers.
'The engines are done for,' said Captain Mainton quietly.
But the ship still continued to fight, firing what guns were left intact, and using the Ednogen force apparatus. But one by one the guns were extinguished, either by the compartments where they were mounted being pierced, or by their muzzles being damaged from the outside. Then the stern was battered in by a ram, and she spun round under the shock. The captain still held the levers, and looked calmly at the telephotoscope picture. Not a muscle of his face moved.
Next there was a frightful shock against one of the sides, and three more guns were rendered useless, while the space outside was filled with clouds of vapour.
'The Lightning will be destroyed rather than surrender,' said Captain Mainton.
The guns still continued to fire feebly. The captain shouted into a telephone, and Alec's face blanched when he heard the reply that came back.
A swarm of torpedo-boats were settling down on the sides of the dying giant. The force of Ednogen was turned on to them, and two were rendered useless; a third was half melted by the anticohesion apparatus.
'The Lightning can still strike,' said the captain.
A minute later a huge first-class battleship bore down upon them, intending to annihilate what remained of the Lightning with its ram. A stern smile flitted over the captain's face.
'Not so fast,' he said as he turned a wheel.
There was an awful shock, but their huge assailant lay helpless in front of them. More than four hundred of its men had perished in a few seconds.
Another vast battleship came charging along and cut the Lightning completely in half. The captain's metal sphere was fastened on to the stern, but the bow part was totally wrecked. Their assailant made a signal to them to surrender, but Captain Mainton replied by ordering the remaining guns to be fired. The stern part was gradually shot away piece by piece until nothing was left but the captain's sphere and a quantity of wreckage hanging round it.
Then the air inside began to get very oppressive. Alec felt his head beginning to spin round, while he hardly knew what was going on around him. Captain Mainton gradually sank down on to the ground, still holding the lever in his hands, and died murmuring the words 'No surrender' with his last breath. Darkness passed over Alec's eyes, and he tottered round the room until he fell down insensible. Nothing was left of the once mighty Lightning but innumerable fragments scattered through the cold regions of space.