For the Love of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 3) (19 page)

We are too saddened to follow the terrible fiends.

Slowly, one by one, we all succumb to a soft sobbing.

Somehow, despite all the suffering we have been witness to, that poor cow, too old to get herself away from the approaching monsters, has broken our collective heart.

Eventually, without a word, we slowly pick ourselves up and in desultory fashion, continue our sad pursuit.

The Cincinnati Kidder

CITIZENS FLEE BEFORE TITANIC TYRANTS!

By Mona Jolly.

With state, local and Federal agencies having failed a helpless public, citizens have prudently fled before the unstoppable Martian threat. Municipalities receiving this influx of refugees report a fantastic profit in the hotel and restaurant serving industry. With lemons come lemonade as these capitalizing capitalists make bank.

The Spicy Bolognaian

THE BATTLE OF PARIS CONTINUES!

By Dominique Tendency.

I relentlessly track down mein source. He cannot escape mein gloved clutches. In an isolated laboratory, I have him trapped. My pointed heels click inexorably towards mein man-prey. I am like zee black panther in my swaying, und slinky capture. I grab zee thick hair of my desire. Yanking his head violently back, I demand to know the disposition of our European situation! The press of my leather clad form cannot be resisted by mortal man!

Tell my audience, Marcus Gilman!

“I vill! I vill! Zat hurts you know! It is the theory of meinself und Professors Von Zott und Tesla that these craft communicate by means of  radioactive transmissions. Professor Tesla has many brilliant theories in this regard. Ow! I am talking! Take it eazy! Anyvays, vee have built frequency broadcasting towers based upon bold and exciting electrical theorems. Zeez  frequencies travel as the radiating ripples on zee pond. Zey spread from the source of origination one after another, in outwardly expanding waves. These broadcasting towers can project their energies over incredible distances. It vaz our hope zat vee could interrupt their transmissions, or squeeze them into immobility. Our conjecture was to even disable their war machines. Sadly, the emanations seem to confuse and cause either the operator or the craft itself discomfort, but have fallen short of completely debilitating the machines. Please to release me mein uber-Fraulien, I must get back to zee vork.”

The Townsville Tempest.

ADELAIDE DEFLECTS MARTIAN SIEGE!

By ‘The Karumba Kutie’ Miss Fluffy Muffington.

Krikey! Did I ever have to claw my way through a bevy of tramp newspaper hussies to get this up close and personal interview with hunky Secret Agent James Murray, but it was worth the frightful feminine infested boarding pass to cruise this dreamboat. So, Lover, how goes the fight?

“Krikey! Well me girl, you’ll hafta give this amorous digger two shakes to rejuveniotal me trouser oysters. In the meantime, I’ll tell ya about the Martian battle. We have built walls, dug ditches, run trip wires, blown smoke in their faces, gave inaccurate directions, teased horribly, and anything else we could do to dissuade the beasts from their course. Nothing doing, me lassie lass. The dingaroos wombats skulleried the hoobbus out of our vain attempts. They have been inexorably drawn toward their stranded mate on Kangaroo Island. Side by side, the bunyip outta the West and the banana bender from the East, these monsters steadily make their way across the Flinders outback until reaching us in the cold and gloomy South. Adelaide stood in their path. An outpouring of public efforts gave us a line of ditches, that discouraged our two walking monsters. All the metals in the city had been secured in safe places as we have been warned of the metal destroying qualities these devils’ weapons possess. Adelaide has grown in recent years and the amount of shipping and rail traffic make for a lot of steel in the area. We have found that great amounts of sand can weaken the Martians’ metal destroying beams to a certain degree. We have tried to protect these steel assets to the best of our abilities with this method. Great bonfires with special ingredients to make them extra smoky also helped to keep the war machines from treading our city’s fair soil. The brutes bypassed Adelaide and continued out the Newland Head Peninsula. The two mainland Martians and their Island-bound comrade have taken to calling to one another across the ‘Backstair Passage’. One could forget what fiends these creatures are and sympathize in their forlorn despair, separated from their marooned mate, standing in the cold bleak grey weather, calling out to each other. I suspect, though that when these three footed land sharks get hungry, they’ll be coming back to Adelaide for a human cut-lunch.”

---

“I say, though our quarry does not travel in the evening, they do, I see, make merry.”

“Yes, Ma’am, they sure are a festive crew, Miss Plumtartt. Me and some of the troopers snook up and had a peek at their carrying on last night. They look to have more and more Martians every day. These things multiply faster than skeeters after a summer rain.”

“Festive, how, Ichabod?”

“They whoop and holler and stomp around their green light campfire, Miss Valuria.”

“Well, at least it is not difficult to follow our opponents’ trail. The paths of destruction caused by the giants is unmistakable. The backwash of crushed trees and farms is like the wake of a messy and mean-spirited land-bound barge. The walkers and fliers just run around tearing things apart hither/thither with their testy tentacles, while that despicable crawler squooshes everything before its path. It really is a deplorable situation!”

“Calm yourself, Miss Nightingale, and let us hope we conclude the day without the fiends finding any more of Earth’s treasures. We must be vigilant, lest melancholy take its sorrowful and spirit sapping hold again.”

---

“Hey, Icky, did you and the soldier boys get a look at those Martians? Are they up to their same strange behaviours again?”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Clarabelle, Ma’am. It’s the dangdest monster tango you ever did see. Bending and standing, stretching and shaking, and of course, lots of stomping to accompany the macabre festivity. Around and round they frolic in their awful carrying on like a bunch of preparatory school students on a beach vacation.”

“I hear hand claps along with the stomping, Ichabod.”

“Yes, Ma’am, Miss Valuria, Ma’am. They got the funniest, three-handed manner of clapping along with the dancing, if you can call it that. Not always, but at certain points, they break into complicated, three handed clapping patterns, individually, in pairs, and in groups of threes. The intricate choreography is almost impossible to fathom.”

“Harken there, my friends, listen! There is a new element to join the rapscallions’ rhythms.”

Bah-duh-dump!

Bah-duh-dump!

Bah-duh-dumpa-dumpa-dump!

Bah-duh-dump!

Bah-duh-dump!

Bah-duh-dumpa-dumpa-dump!

“That’s a drum! Its pounding, booming, throb, pulsates across our dark valley.”

“My conjecture is that the fiends hath found a new use for the cow’s leather hide.”

“Oh, my, the deepest dread fills my heart with the relentless beats of the bass percussions.”

Bah-duh-dump!

Bah-duh-dump!

Bah-duh-dumpa-dumpa-dump!

Bah-duh-dump!

Bah-duh-dump!

Bah-duh-dumpa-dumpa-dump!

“I think we are witness to an alien ritual, y’all. Perhaps this very drumbeat impassions the souls of these creatures back on their home planet of Mars.”

“I say, their singing does leave something to be desired, eh hem? The snap and snarl of their choir has a jarring edge in its accompaniment. Yes, quite.”

“Are those animal noises, y’all, or are they speaking a language?”

“Oh! Most certainly a language. There are many indices of this to be the case.”

“Yes, I concur, most vociferously. I am particularly adept at languages. Yea, though these voices travel to me from afar, I must emphatically say unto thee, young Ichabod, these voices speak a language. Their horrible tongue lifts up in a song of terror, for I think I am close to being able to decipher its awful lyrics. With respect to our ladies, I shall forego the translation, here.”

“Gee!”

“Let us listen all the more closely to the rhythms of the drums, the cadence of the stamps, the beat of the clapping, and the frightening intonations of the words in song.”

“Gringle kronk!”

“Kringle gronk!”

“Gringle kronk-a-donk-a-donk!”

“These beings have traveled across unfathomable distances to sing us their song.”

“Hey, listen, a new rhythmic sensation is sweeping the nation.”

Buh-dump. Buh-dump. Dump.

Buh-dump. Buh-dump. Dump.

Dump! Dump! Dump!

Dump! Dump! Dump!

Bumpity-dumpity-bumpity-dumpity-dump!

“Yes, I remember this one from our assault to capture the elusive craft. Let’s see, how did it go? Oh, yes. Left foot stomp, then the right foot would stamp. They then repeat, with the third foot to follow.”

“You really are very good at working out steps and choreography Sir Paul.”

“Thank you, Valuria. Let’s see, I shall mimic their steps this way.”

“Left, right, left, right, and then rear. Sweeping my hand downward behind me shall have to suffice to indicate the stomping rear foot.”

“Left, right, left, right, rear.”

“Rear! Rear! Rear!”

“Rear! Rear! Rear!”

“Tappity-dancity-tappity-dancity-tappity-dancity-stomp! with the rear foot!”

“I say, with Sir Paul’s talented performance, we are so much better able to visualize the awful dance of our hungry invaders, eh hem?”

“Oooo, listen to their horrible song that accompanies this chaotic choir.”

“Gnarf, gnish. Gnarf, gnish. Gnash.”

“Gnish, gnash. Gnish, gnash. Gnarf.”

“Gnarf! Gnarf! Gnarf!”

“Gnash! Gnash! Gnash!”

“Gnarfity-gnarfity-gnarfity-gnarfity-gnish!”

“To my mind, they sound like somebody stomping around on top of a bunch of dry branches. If the cracking of wood could bark in a vicious manner as it was breaking, I think is the sound they would most remind me of.”

“Gnarf, gnish. Gnarf, gnish. Gnash.”

“Gnish, gnash. Gnish, gnash. Gnarf.”

“Gnarf! Gnarf! Gnarf!”

“Gnash! Gnash! Gnash!”

“Gnarfity-gnarfity-gnarfity-gnarfity-gnish!”

“Eek! Dang, Sir Paul, you just scared us all half out of our wits!”

“To hear those voices at a distance is one thing, but to hear it this close and unexpectedly is truly unnerving!”

“Forsooth, didst even frighten me to a degree having the hated voice so near at hand.”

“Do you know what the words mean, Sir Paul?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, I take by your tone that you are encouraging me to leave it at that.”

“Yes.”

“Hey, the drum pattern has changed again.”

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Boom. Boom.

Boom. Boom.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Oh! We know this one, Miss Plumtartt. We were witness to this little Martian three-step boogie back in Birmingham, under Sloss Furnaces. I’ll stand and improvise the third leg like Sir Paul. Let’s see, how did that little dance go?”

“Left, right, rear.”

“Left, right, rear.”

“Left, right.”

“Left, right.”

“Rear! Rear! Rear!”

“Well done, Mr. Temperance, and if I am not mistaken, it is a familiar refrain that drifts to us from out of the darkness, eh hem?”

“Sneaf! Snarf! Snoe!”

“Sneaf! Snarf! Snum!”

“Sneaf! Snarf!”

“Snerf! Snoof!”

“Arum! Arum! Arum!”

“How about these lyrics? Can you translate these, Sir Paul?”

“Aye, I can tell you their meaning, delicate Clarabelle, but you will wish I had naughtte.”

“Thank you, Sir Paul. On behalf of the ladies, I’d appreciate it if you did not disclose the nature of their evil poetics.”

“As you wish.”

“Hey, I think it’s gonna rain! Raindrops are already falling on our heads. Let’s hurry and get the tents set up.”

“I say, the Martians clearly do not like the rain, or in the least, are not used to it. With many unhappy noises and voices they stop their merry making and climb back into their varied craft.”

“Gosh, as soon as those Martians stopped their merry-making, everything got all quiet. Now there is just the peaceful patter of the falling rain.”

---

“I say, this tent is not altogether waterproof, eh hem?”

“No Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am. Seems no matter where I sit, a drip manges to find me. The troopers are reporting no activity from the Martian camp. I think the Martians have decided to just stay in this morning.”

“It is a rather glum, gray, and grim morning.”

It sure is. We are normally an upbeat and spirited group, but the wet, miserable condition of our present circumstances make that an increasingly difficult part of our past life to hold onto. My comrades’ faces have become hardened, not unlike those Confederate veterans from Tuscaloosa. It is so odd to see a grim countenance on such kind and considerate folks.