Wells pounded a fist against his nightstand, causing the candle there to shake and almost topple over, spilling hot wax across his lap. Wells scrunched his face in pain for a moment, then nodded. “But we could try maybe one small thing.”

I shook my head. “Sadly, we don’t know how that would affect the chain of time events that streams from that one action. You squash a worm yesterday that you didn’t before and that worm might have been the meal of a starving bird, who if it hadn’t eaten the worm, would not have had a clutch of eggs, which would have hatched into more birds, who would have spread seed across a portion of land that people needed to cultivate. The land might have remained fallow. People might have died that would have lived. Perhaps even you or I would not exist now.”

Wells considered that. “But what if we went into an alternate dimension instead, then it wouldn’t affect us.”

I thought about it. “True, perhaps, but we would have to grow old with the concern in the back of our minds that we could have doomed another world, another life form because of our weakness and poor choices.”

“And…” I paused ominiously. “What if the changes we precipitated by our selfish actions caused a vehement and violent attack on us in the future by those we had affected.”

Wells suddenly understood. “My God! Our War of the Worlds could have been caused by just such a blundering then.”

I nodded my head and sadly answered. “The more this continues. This so-called war of the worlds, I have to wonder if somehow we didn’t create this war as a result of our meddlings with time and space.”

It was a gloomy thought and though both of us felt oppressed by the loss of our loved ones and by the possibilities of suppression by the Invaders that could yet happen, we still came out of that night in a happy manner.

Wells sighed, then propped his chin in the cup of his hands on his nightstand. “Somewhere out there. Somewhere, there must be beings who are more sane than our own species and the ones attacking.”

I put an arm around his shoulder and squeezed. “And someday, I promise you, we will find them.”

A month later I stood on a lonely pier that overlooked the Seine. Across the sparkling waters that were silvered by a full moon stood what was left of the Eiffel Tower. Its top half that had once looked like a might sword piercing the heavens now lay sagged across the bottom half, a sad sculpture made from happier times. I shifted my feet uneasily, for the Invaders were now coming more into the open. I saw three of their ships hovering near the Eiffel Tower, search lights stabbing right and left beneath them.

I could just imagine the terror and consternation of any who might be alive and sheltering there now. Hard to imagine in some ways, because the adults were all gone, as if vanished from the face of the earth.

Wells looked despondent at that moment. I think he felt my own sadness. In many ways it was like we were joined somehow mentally, almost like one soul in two bodies if that were possible. It would explain how I knew where to find him that momentous day I destroyed our first Invader.

“Wells,” I think we need to change the way things have been done on our planet.”

“I agree wholeheartedly.” He responded immediately, his spirits lifting as we moved away from thoughts of our family. “This whole war between worlds is a bunch of nonsense that should never have happened. If we survive this war, we must construct a society, a government of common good such that we are never divided again as peoples, nor in thought, word or deed.”

“I wonder if that is possible.” I replied, having already come to that exact same conclusion. “Look what happened when our first settlers went to the Americas. They were wiped out to a child. Everyone. And why? Because their skin was red, and not white like the Indians who live there.”

“Or the African people with their brown skin and golden eyes.” Wells added. “Everyone fears them because of their color. It’s ridiculous. How can the color of a man’s skin determine whether they’re mean or nice!”

“But how do we go about changing that?” I asked. “We can’t legislate morality…the way that a person believes in his soul.”

“No. But we can start with the children. Let them be together. All faiths, all colors. Let them grow up together. That will change much that needs to be done.”

“But that’s unheard of!” I stuttered. “My father would have been totally against the idea of our going to school with white people. Everyone thinks they’re low class and mean-spirited. Violent and short-sighted. Look what the Atlanteans did to the third quarter of our continent. Blew it right off the map with their stupid weapons of mass destruction.”

“But that was a long time ago, Jules.” Wells protested.

“True. But wasn’t it just a few years ago. Before we knew of the Invaders that the Germans were attacking the Swiss, the Swiss the Czechs, and the Russians the Chinese, the Japanese the Australians and so on?”

Wells sighed. “You’ve made your point, sorry to say. But I still believe it is the young ones who will change everything.” Wells said, then brightened. “Couldn’t we use your string ship to go ahead in time to see if it works?”

I grinned. “Wells, that would create a paradox. If we knew the future, it would alter it. We must never leave our time ships in any time period or it would alter everything. We can’t even go back to use it to defeat the Invaders.”

Just a quick note. You can download my short story taken from the Lord When combo, Time Swirl, for free on Amazon this November 23 for twenty four hours. It's a very lovely introduction to my new time travel series.

Also, I am running a countdown on my combos and novels from Friday through Sunday. All are discounted steeply. They are also available on Amazon: Lord When's Time Folds, The Baker Street Adventures Combo, Young King Arthur Combo, Into the Great Wonderful, and Samuel Light, Spiritual Detective. Tons of great reading.

Happy Reading.

John

Now back to War of the Worlds, Volume Two: The Nest.

Finally, I led my friend into a very spherical chamber. I called it the processing plant, because all our test vehicles were run through every kind of endurance test we had devised in this space.

Wells and I stopped behind a large silvered glass window, which had a metallic tint to it. Wells touched it. A slight tingling greeted his finger tip and he jerked it away. “What’s that?” He exclaimed.

“A slight charge. The whole window is nothing more than an elaborate optical illusion; it is actually a very finely tuned force field that keeps everything above the atomic level out, and if need be, even the subatomic level.”

Wells frowned. “Subatomic?”

I blew on the fake window and a slight mist covered it. I drew what could have been interpreted as the design of our solar system, but it wasn’t. “This is what Tesla and Einstein with the help of Madame Curie have figured out, with a bit of input from yours truly of course.”

Wells laughed. “My dear friend, I do believe your ego is threatening to break this glacier.”

“Ah, were it only so powerful.” I sighed, and then pointed to the sun shape. “The atom, and these planetary shapes, subatomic particles. They are the offshoot of the atom, and just like our sun, the atom flings portions of itself outward to form miniature orbits.”

“I see.” Wells said, his eyebrows threatening to break off his forehead. “In other word it’s like wheels within wheels.”

“Exactly!” I said happily, pounding him enthusiastically on his back. “I knew I did the right thing by showing you this. I think that together we can overcome any kind of physical obstacle these Invaders have thrown against us.”

“In time.” Wells added.

I sobered at those words. “Sometimes a very long time.” I smiled again. “But time is on our side. It’s our planet. Not theirs. They have to live in their artificial shells to survive, we do not.”

Wells frowned at me. “I suspect you have overlooked something, Jules.”

That time again. But check out Nuggets and free books for some goodies.

Best.

John

Wells, a bachelor now, as then, never found it in his heart to marry anyone. Sometimes I think it is our friendship that has ruined that part of him, for I sense within him a kind of satisfaction that we have such a close bond even after all the years of marriage with my beloved Jennifer. And I would never exclude him from my love and heart for anything, for even if a man might not love another man in the physical so dearly, he can still love him as dearly in the heart, mind and spirit, and so it was with Wells and I. And so it shall ever be, no matter which incarnation we experience across the necklace of time.

But you are probably wondering what happened after the first battle with the Invaders that took place. So forward, or rather backward into what proved to be a very long and painful climb to freedom for many and descent into madness or death for many others.

I  and Wells had many things to ponder after that fateful encounter with the Invaders. Most of it was philosophical at first. The first question being how were we to unite the remaining survivors of the conflict, to find them and then to heal their suffering souls.

That turned out to be far easier than I would have thought. For news of the victory spread like wildfire and even as I had spread notes across France with my wonderful machine where to find me, news spread further and wider through a network that was so hidden and deep that not even the devious Invaders could corrupt or pervert them.

So on that day that the first survivors found us, I amazed Wells even further. We stood on the porch introducing ourselves to the bedraggled remainders of humanity. Men, young and old, women, children. People of Europe and later the Americas as well.

Wells couldn’t understand how so many people could fit into his, though not tiny, still not adequate to the multitudes streaming inside his home. I took him aside when time allowed to explain that I had developed a way of shielding his home from the Invaders’ probes, as well as a unique conduit to our sanctuary. The work was a combination of ideas spawned by Madame Curie and Sir Nicholas Tesla, with a helpful nudge by myself and a buddy I had met at the Lourve, Al Einstein.

Al was leading the resistance in Germany, as Tesla was in Czechoslovakia and Madame Curie in Rusia.

I led him to the back of the home where the people were gong, led by several assistants I had stationed in strategic positions throughout the home. As Wells and I neared the kitchen, Hans, a rather large and intimidating Swiss stepped into view and gestured towards the Kitchen Pantry. I smiled. “Hans, this is my best friend Wells, and this is his house, so whatever is good for me is also good for him.”

Hans smiled, revealing one very large gold tooth that sparkled brightly. “Gut to see you Mister Wells, Jules speaks highly of you. I hope some day to be half as good a writer and visionary as yourself.”

“What is your full name?” Wells asked, shaking hands. “Olaf Hans Stapledon.” He replied, smiling even wider.

Mars, a barren world, old and abandoned. Why? Was there life once upon a time, and from another time? Will man find the answer to his quest for knowledge about where life originally came from, or will it come seeking him instead?

Tomorrow, Jules and Wells discover a bit more than they anticipated in their struggle with the Invaders. Questions are answered, but more are asked in Volume Two of War of the Worlds: The Nest.

I thought I'd drop off a couple links to Jules Verne and H.G. Wells for you to check out with some of their work and a bit of a biography about them.

H.G. Wells

http://www.wondersmith.com/scifi/wells.htm


A novelette and a story "A Dream of Armageddon" and "The Star."

Jules Verne

http://www.wondersmith.com/scifi/verne.htm

Short story "In the Year 2889."

 Meanwhile, with more tinkering around with the blog, I'm finally finishing for the night. A few more trinkets have been added to my children's story blog: http://writejohn.blogspot.com/p/author.html. Check it out.

I also revised my bookstore so it's a bit easier to look through. On the right side there's a link back to this blog under  browse by categories: Golden Realm Stories.

Meanwhile,

Have a peaceful weekend.

Best as always.

John

War of the Worlds Volume One, The Forever Friends comes to a close

CHAPTER EIGHT: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

Jules and Wells sat inside the home of Wells, silently stirring cups of tea. Wells offered a lemon slice and Jules too it, squeezed it into his tea, then made a face and tasted his tea. “Bitter.”

Wells nodded. “But good for you. The military doctors over at Dover claim it aides in the body’s defense against illness.”

Jules smiled. “What a wonderful idea. Healing fruit.”

“Lemons are not fruit.” Wells responded.

“They most certainly are. “ Jules insisted. “And with a dash of honey, they become a nice glass of lemonade as well. I have one every morning after I get up. Have a hard time getting oranges these days, you know.”

Wells nodded, then added. “Hard time getting anything these days for that matter.”

Wells suddenly slammed his fist down on the table, startling Jules into spilling his tea into his lap. Jules jumped up and wiped at himself.

Embarassed, Wells got up and grabbed a towel for him. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what made me do that.”

Jules wiped and grinned at his friend. “I know it’s all kind of overwhelming,  isn’t it?”

Wells sat back down and put his chin on the palm of his hands and watched Jules silently, then spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have believed me then, when you didn’t even believe me before?”

Wells shrugged his shoulders. “Guess not. Sorry, my friend.”

“No apologies necessary.”

Wells waited until Jules reseated himself, then added more tea to Jules’ cup from a beautiful ceramic pot with golden flowers embossed on its sides. “It’s just damned strange that so many are just up and gone. It’s as if they were pieces of iron drawn by a magnet to some destination only they know.”

Jules creased his eyebrows in thought, then nodded. “I still have no idea where they are either.”

Wells looked at him. “How long?”

“The ship?”

“That too.”

Jules smiled and Wells felt his warmth. “For a long time. Maybe five years.”

Wells stood up, astounded by the words. “And all this time you’ve said nothing to me?”

“Or anyone else quite frankly.” Jules replied. “Look at it this way. We both knew the world was coming to a turning point. But the British, give it the old stiff upper life attitude wasn’t going to save our butts, and the French, let’s toast to success wouldn’t either.”

Wells sighed. “What a dismal world this is.”

“Was. Wells. Was. That’s all going to change.”

“If we live long enough for that to happen. You’ve destroyed one of the ships of the Invaders, but they have many, many more.”

“Yes, but when I find out where…” Jules responded. His eyes hardened and his lips compressed. “When I find out where…” He left an air of malice in the air.

“How do you know they won’t come looking for you now that you’ve destroyed one of them?”

“They haven’t the ability to find where their ship is now.” Jules stated matter of factly. “And quite frankly, neither do I.”

Wells gave his friend a look of astonishment. “But Jules, how in the world can you invent something like that weapon without knowing what it does?”

Mysteriously. “It wasn’t my weapon.”

Another time to be shocked. Wells shook his head. “I am merely a humble writer. This is beyond my experience and imagination.”

Jules put an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Dear Wells, nothing is beyond you and even less beyond the both of us. We will fight this war together…in our own ways.”

Wells turned to look into Jules’ eyes. “But we don’t know the enemy, where they come from, what they look like, how well fortified they are, how many of them there are?”

Jules laughed with a hint of amusement. “Then we will need friends won’t we?”

Jules nodded his head and Wells turned to look where he was looking. From many directions, young people, just like themselves were stealthily converging on Wells home.

“You see, my friend, we are not alone.” His eyes hardened again. “Our parents may be gone I know not where. Our armies may be vanquished. Our air and our navy, but we are not. As long as one of us is alive, the human race shall not perish from the face of this earth. And one day. One day soon we shall find our enemies and…”

Jules crushes his right hand into a fist. “And then it will be our turn to take the war to them!”

And thus ends "War of the Worlds: Volume One, The Forever Friends

Beginning on Monday: War of the Worlds: Volume Two, The Nest

Hi everyone!

I've posted a new addition to my children's blog and a new illustration. Check it out at: http://writejohn.blogspot.com/ or just click on the tab that says Golden Realm Children's Stories.
Have a great night!

Before Wells floated an armored vehicle with what appeared to be three huge eyes across its lower rim, two green and one red that blinked on and off. Atop its saucer like shape there rested an antenna of some kind that blinked rapidly with energies that appeared to melt in and out of each other. Wells would surely have fared worse had not a helpless dog chosen that moment to appear, see the device, then rush it barking

The device turns its antenna slightly and the blinking antenna shot forth a burst of dazzling red and yellow energies that caught the dog and wrapped around it, highlighting it in a blaze of light so bright Wells had to turn away. When he looked back, the dog was screaming hideously and burned to a cinder.

Wells snapped out of his petrification and ran to the left of the vehicle, where it wasn’t facing. It sensed his movement and the antenna came around to focus on him. He felt rather than heard its ray burst forth and immediately hit the ground and rolled under a parked wagon The rays burst into the gravel near him and seared it so hotly that it all melted together into a lump.

Wells didn’t stop then, he kept rolling and hopped to his feet, then dove behind some brush and began crawling rapidly on his belly between two homes. He heard a whirring sound and dared to look back. The vehicle was slowly rising on a column of blue light and its antenna was aimed towards him.

Desperate now, he jumped to his feet and ran for all he was worth. He felt the ray bursting behind him and ducked behind a building. The ray shot past the building in an arc of searing force that shredded the building in front of him.

Wells sprinted for the Seine, knowing the water was his only safe bet. Instinctively he felt that water would offset the power of the ray. Soon he was to test another of his assumptions

He reached the river edge and dove for the water. A burst of energy struck the water just ahead of him and it erupted in an explosion of superheated gases. Wells struck downwards, praying he could get deep enough and far enough away.

As he stroked for some distance the rays kept striking the water, and rather than being blunted by the liquid, they were amplified. Wells was just inches ahead of a deadly stream of superheated gases. Everything the gasses touched on the river bottom  exploded and caught fire, so hot was the force of the energies.

Finally, he could hold his air no longer, and burst to the surface, gasping for air. He floated there, struggling for air, when the vehicle came gliding into view. It was over, he knew. He was going to be with his mother now.

He closed his eyes, expecting the worst.

I posted another piece of Mister Po's story tonight for those of you interested at http://writejohn.blogspot.com/. I know your children will enjoy these light-hearted and sweet tales.


BACK to War of the Worlds which nears the end of Volume One.

Now that his own mother had crossed to wherever it was souls ultimately disappeared to, he had not felt quite the same, but it was a different kind of weight, as if a kind of bated breath, awaiting something terrible to befall. The news of the War had triggered it. All the uncertainty. The unknowns. He had no idea of what these invaders looked like. Were they human? Did they even have human feelings of any kind?

What little his father spoke of, was veiled with nuances that his mind could carry to places that perhaps it shouldn’t.

So yes, Jules was lost and confused in many ways. He was fighting a war he had no clear conception of, and it was really getting to him in major ways.

He sighed, and then went to a deep mahogany desk that lay sprawled against the right wall, next to tubes marked dia1, 2, etc.
Each were dated, and the first began almost two  years ago, which is when he first hatched his idea for the inevitable confrontation that loomed between man and invader.

Stretched across the top of the desk, which looked pretty bruised from being banged around multiple times, was a wrinkled diagram with tea and coffee stains, as well as milk and juice. For many hours this desk had been his source of freedom and a form of solitude for him as he worked out in his extremely agile mind all the ramifications of what he sought to achieve, and how it all must be done step by step.

 Jules was strong, but lugging the desk into the warehouse had been a major task for him and he had scraped and scratched it many times. The desk had one broken leg, so he had to be careful when he leaned against it, or else everything on top would spill onto the filthy floor, which was littered with scraps of metal, cloth, wood, and patches of grease and another substance that resembled orange slime.

He called the slime the Forcepellet, as it was the driving device behind the vehicle he had assembled. The sketch, over which he had labored so long and so hard, was of a huge cigar shaped device with twin shafts at the fore and aft of it, as well as midsection.

The Forcepellets were a unifed form of reactant made from oil and a rare earth substance found by the brilliant female scientist, Madame Curie. She had been exposed to it for quite some time, and as a result gained the ability to repulse anything she desired for a certain amount of time when she released a burst of emotion. Which is also why he said force…because unless the emotions were of great force, the pellets didn’t work.

So Forcepellets they became with Curie’s blessings. And with her help Jules had learned how to form and mold the energy release so that it could be used to propel anything….anything at all, further and faster than anything known to man at that time.

While not the reason for his diagram, it was integral to the device laid therein, because the device would be using the forcepellet, not only to propel the device, but also to arm it.

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE FIRST BATTLE

Wells was so horrorfied by the sight before him that he quite literally froze in his tracks, though one would think such a rational being would burst into flight before doing such a useless thing.

That time again, but even so, I've posted a new author to Nuggets and a link to a wonderful book series written by the famous Edgar Rice Burroughs, "Pullicidar."

Have a great weekend!

John

Wells thought about the door as long as it took him to recognize the purpose of the trunk, and then he turned his attention to his friend. Jules slept with his mouth half open and snored lightly. He frowned. The dear friend had probably stayed up most of the night watching over him. That tender thought made his heart melt, as he realized once more how deeply bonded the two were. That made him all the more determined not to distress his friend further.

So quietly, he moved the trunk, put on his clothes and slipped outside. The house was deathly quiet. Not a thing moved within it. Without his mother storming from one room to the other ordering the help around, or demanding it, as she had of late from her bedroom, there was no call for much movement. At least that is what he thought at the time.

Wells went into their rather sizable kitchen and was alarmed to see the stove on, but nothing on its top. On the floor were scattered broken dishes and pots and pans. The cupboards were all closed, so it wasn’t a theft he thought. But still odd. Where was Miss Glory, who always got up before everyone else and began baking. He checked the oven for the fresh bread, whose scent always filled the house while baking, and saw a baking pan there with bread in it, but no heat upon it. The oven was as lifeless appearing as the house itself.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Jules says from behind Wells.

Wells is startled, but he refuses to show his fear to Jules.

“Undoubtedly they’re all off seeing to Mother’s funeral.”

Jules grabs Wells by his arm and spins him around. “Can’t you see what’s going on? They’re here. In our town. Right now.”

Wells stiffens. Jules lets go.

“The only thing I see is my best friend doing his damnest to scare me out of the one good life I have. Unlike cats, dear Jules, I have but the one. Try to refrain from such universal meanderings.”

Jules sighed and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Ask yourself, would the servants just abandon a kitchen like this?”

Wells says nothing.

Jules wipes at his bloodshot eyes. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But they’re not going to take me. I’m fighting back.”

Jules starts to exit the kitchen, but Wells blocks his path. “Who is this they you refer to?”

Jules starts to answer, then shakes his head. Wearily he responds. “Wells, your mind is just as good as mine. When you figure it out, meet me at 54 Rue Morgue near the old pier. I will have a surprise for you.”

Jules darts around Wells and heads for the front door. He stops at the door and looks back at his friend, who seems in a state of shock. “I’d advise you to keep to the shadows, keep a low profile. And…”

“And what?” Wells asks weakly, uncertain how to respond.

“And don’t trust anyone!” Jules says with a tone that strikes a spike into Wells heart and twists it.