"Well, so much for that!"
"It was unavoidable!"
Captain Mudwood snapped round to look at his crewman who'd cried out. He leaned right into the man's grimy, grimacing face.
"Oh really? You idiots! That little place had sails! The town we were trying to target was run by actual engines! By all the gods, we're done for!"
The little band of pirates look sheepish. They weren't very tough. Just fledglings in the whole pirate business really. They raided the Western Ocean, known in ancient times as the Atlantic, boarding little two or three tiered fishing towns or even airship convoys.
They weren't very good at it. They had a policy of returning to towns time after time, so they'd get a constant flow of money ('it's no good sinking a town and never getting money from it again' was Mudwood's catchphrase'). In fact, some of the towns either told them to go away, but in a rather less polite way, or actually welcomed them for trade.
Mudwood had only been in this pirating business for a couple of years. He wasn't like the big guys, like Redmoustache or Death Bones Ben. Now they werepirates!
But right now Mudwood was very upset indeed. He had a fleet of four airships; one much larger than the rest which they could re-fuel at when needed on longer expeditions. Right now two of them were still docked with Blue Propellers, the town which Mudwood's fairly empty headed men had tried to raid instead of the much larger, four tiered city called Swansea-upon-Ocean.
So what? Surely they could swoop down and retrieve their ships?
Swansea-upon-Ocean was currently speeding towards Blue Propellers (called that despite having sails). It was going to eat the little the little two tiered place. And, even worse, Cardiff was chasing after Swansea-upon-Ocean.
Swansea, with it's majestic swan figurehead bumping off the town hall of Blue Propellers, swallowed the sail powered fishing town. It immediately tried to get it's speed up to escape Cardiff. Unfortunately, Cardiff was approaching fast.
Suddenly a massive wave formed, rocking the comparatively small town, as the jaws of Cardiff opened.
"That horrible great hulk of metal... they have slaves and everything." Mudwood muttered to himself.
And it was true: Cardiff was an industrial giant, not just a predator of the ocean, but also a coastal trader. The pall of smoke from it's factories billowed up from it's lower tiers, blown away to it's back by specialized fans that stuck out of the side of it's six grimy tiers.
Finally Swansea-upon-Ocean was picked up in Cardiff's jaws, and was slowly dragged backwards into the gut, where it would be dismantled and the people on board enslaved.
Mudwood was looking shifty.
"We've got to go back and retrieve the airships... our raiding days'll be over!" Mudwood said, staring at the metal mountain of smoke floating on the water.
"Retrieve them? But it's Cardiff's property now. That's how Municipal Darwinism works." Said a small voice, from the shabby line of pirates.
It was Captain Mudwood's son, Darren Mudwood. He was born on Oslo-Bergen, the great big ice wastes mining-predator conurbation when Mudwood was still just a lowly trader; he fell in love with a local shop owner there.
When Darren was eight, she left Mudwood for a high noble who took her off to exotic adventures to places like Cairo and Brighton and London. He seemed to vent his anger by trying to be a pirate – he hated Oslo-Bergen and worked in the shipyards for years to save up for a small fleet of second hand airships. When Darren was fourteen, they assembled a motley crew and took off for the Western Ocean. That was two years ago now.
"Darren... I'm talking about sneaking them out!" Mudwood said, exasperated.
Mudwood had grown up on the bird roads, and he didn't care much for tractionism. But Darren, his son, had grown up on Oslo-Bergen and they'd taught him at school how noble the system was. Darren was fairly uncomfortable about breaking any of the laws of Municipal Darwinism.
"What, go into the gut and somehow get them to open the jaws for you? It's not happening, dad!"
Mudwood felt like whacking the brat, but he thought about it and gave in.
"I know, I know... We'll just have to make do with what we've got. Let's dock at Cardiff and look into it anyway..."
Their two ships, the Endless Tree and Depressed Extinct Whale set down on two docking pans, side by side, at the tier three air harbour. Mudwood got off and was away for some hours; he came back with grimy clothes and a black eye.
"Their a tough lot they are!" He exclaimed, miserably.
"Where next?" Kael asked, his navigator and best friend.
"I hear London is in the area. There's something I want to enquire about there."
"We don't have a licence. Well, you did anyway, for your old ship. It expired a long time ago." Kael
replied dimly.
"Well, getting a licence isn't too hard, is it?" Darren suggested.
"Miles ahead of you, my boy! I have a licence I eh... borrowed from somebody."
Darren raised an eyebrow and Kael laughed like a hearty pirate.
"Anyway, call the others, we're – oh bugger." Mudwood went pale.
"What? What is it dad?" Darren asked, concerned.
"Edinburgh. It's on the coast, trundling alongside Cardiff for trading..."
Dan shrugged. "So?"
"Em... remember that sky-train we stole from? The fuel?"
"Yes... Oh. Gods. You're not telling me?"
"I knew it was headed for Edinburgh!" Kael exclaimed.
"Yes, well, while I was onboard Cardiff, apparently the word is that Edinburgh was almost eaten by Cidado de Roda, as Edinburgh had to go slower to reserve fuel." Said Mudwood, sheepishly.
"We better move out then?" Said Kael, already getting the engines ready.
"Yes! Get the men ready to get back on – I think they're just in the café opposite the junk shop, oh what was it called again... Tat's Tatty Old Tech?"
They clambered back on board, but suddenly the radio wavered into life.
"Stay in dock, Endless Tree and Depressed Extinct Whale!" The radio shouted through the static, "You are wanted men in Edinburgh!"
Sure enough, Edinburgh gun ships were whirring over to Cardiff; their red and yellow banners flapping in the wind like a clown's laundry being hung up.
"Ohhhh! Not the Red Lion ships! Did you here? They assaulted Spitzbergen just a few months ago, really smashed them up apparently..." One of the crewmen whispered to another.
"Shaddap! We'll escape, don't worry..." Mudwood said back, but he wasn't so sure. The Red Lion models had exploding cannon balls, and even flame-throwers – although he didn't think they'd dare use them in a crowded air harbour.
The engines started to roar, and the radio crackled something about a last warning, but the scream of the propellers in take-off mode drowned it out.
The Endless Tree and it's bigger friend the Depressed Extinct Whale gracefully flew away, floating into the sky, carried partially by the brisk breeze of the far Western Hunting Ground. It was a clear day, and Mudwood treated it as a good sign.
"Ha! Red Lions? Are they called that because they're so embarrassed at being so bad?" Mudwood was getting his confidence back. Darren rolled his eyes at the 'joke'.
"They're called that because they are soaked in the blood of their enemies." Darren pointed out.
"Thanks..." Mudwood spat.
But the Red Lions were advancing – it appears Edinburgh's authorities were most displeased about their shipment of fuel being disrupted and most of it stolen. Prey was short these days, and ordering fuel became a necessity. It's a shame it all came from the Antarctic, so far away.
The Red Lion let off a warning round, and it exploded just off The Endless Tree. The two ships floated into the appalling smoke that rose from Cardiff's lower tiers, and escaped from view. Panicking, the crew of a second Red Lion sent off an exploding round. It shot into the cloud of smog – and soared through the other side, landing in Cardiff's air harbour on tier six, where the larger fuel transport ships were stationed...
The heavy cannon ball sank into the metal deck, and fizzed and then suddenly exploded, setting fire to an airship. It exploded and the flames spread up through a disused pipe that hung above it, which seeped out at several leaks, and finally reached a hole near the tier three air harbour.
It sounded like a big 'shoomf', like a very impressive magic trick had been preformed.
"Oh dear..." Kael said.
Most of the left side of Cardiff, the one facing the shore at that time, was on fire. The unmistakable wail of sirens floated up from the grimy city, and Darren could see tiny men rushing about frantically trying to put out the fire before it spread to the engine rooms.
More Red Lions appeared, floating up from Edinburgh's armoured military hangars on it's top tier. Suddenly more gunfire was heard. Behind them one of the Red Lions came shrieking out of the sky, on fire.
"What!?" Mudwood exclaimed.
"Dad, I think you started a war."
It was true. Cardiff was broad-siding Edinburgh with it's long range batteries, while Edinburgh's 'city buster' missiles screamed through the clear air, which were usually kept for mossie strongholds.
The two little grimy airships floated past Edinburgh – it was too busy to notice them buzzing along to the central hunting ground in search of London.
As they were leaving they noticed Cidado de Roda, lumbering across the horizon, jaws opened. Edinburgh suddenly started up it's engines, but they were stalling. In a last ditch attempt, it fired upon Cidado de Roda, and suddenly three cities were involved in the conflict. Cidado de Roda had a variety of weapons from assaulting the anti-traction league strongholds in the Pyranees lately.
"Is this the end of Municipal Darwinism?" Darren looked horrified at the prospect.
The next day they noticed London, which was giving chase to a town – a five tiered place, it looked like a good catch.
"Oh wait a second! That's Roma-su-Roate! Look at the big circle thing made of brick on the top, some sort of pre-war monument..."
Darren looked out of the bridge's windows of the ship. It certainly was Roma-su-Roate, one of the first traction cities. It was once a great place of culture and trade. It looked rather shabby now.
"Eh, times have fallen hard on traction cities these days. You have to choose: sissy culture or apex predator. You can't be both now."
London seemed quite near to snapping up the (once) grand city. Once they started to descend below the cloud level, they could see quite clearly that people had crowded onto observation decks and were cheering as they watched the chase.
"It's a big catch. London'll have to eat it in bites..." One of the crew commented.
"Is London... shaking?" Darren asked.
His fellow crewmen squinted out the window and hummed in agreement.
"Looks like they'll have to put some more effort into maintaining the tier supports."
As they started to descend, an automatic message warned they'd be prompted for their licence at the air harbour, and if they didn't have one and didn't wish to acquire one, they'd be kicked off. It was too expensive for Mudwood to afford – however, his 'borrowed' licence card should do the trick.
When they docked, immediately some police strode to the docking pan.
"Both these ships with you, sir?" The policeman asked, clanking towards Mudwood in his steam-powered mechanised armour.
"Yes. Here's my licence!"
The officer snatched the piece of card and examined it. He looked up.
"Where are the rest of your papers?"
"The... the rest of my – of my, of my, of my papers... y-you say? Em... stolen! That's it!"
"If you don't have your papers but have your licence ID card, you may stay for two days but you may not trade any of your goods or purchase goods for express purpose of selling them later."
"Great!" Mudwood said, sighing with relief.
The policeman raised an eyebrow and proceeded to a neighbouring pan where a ship had just docked.
Mudwood went pale again when he noticed a wanted poster with his ship on it, along with it's docking code and name of crew! He glanced around. Suddenly another policeman pointed to his colleagues, right at their ships.
"Let's get out of here! No time to stop! We'll just have to find another city! Toodle pip! Tally ho off we go!" He twittered nervously.
He raced back in The Endless Tree and his other crew into the Depressed Extinct Whale. Again, the radio crackled into life telling them not to leave.
"You have been convicted of crimes against Municipal Darwinism! You may not leave! More and more cities are being dragged into the conflict due to your incompetence!" The radio screamed.
"Not my problem! Not even my fault for gods' sake..." Mudwood replied into the speaker.
"Airships GE-20, GE-21 and GE-43 are being sent to pursue you, The Endless Tree and Depressed Extinct Whale!"
"What? Survey ships? Ha!"
"From our armed division. Machine-guns and rocket batteries. Give up now!"
"Oops."
The ships started to lift away, but Darren noticed missile batteries being rolled into place, on the tiers above them.
"Go under the tier! They wouldn't dare run after us there! The deaths and damage that could be caused wouldn't be worth it!"
"What? Did you read that somewhere, in some sort of adventure book!?" Kael shouted.
"Em... no..." Darren lied.
"We'll have to do it. Get under the tier! Ooh! They're coming!" Mudwood squealed.
Their airships swooped under the tier, through tier three. Fast. Amazingly the Engineering Guild's airships pursued.
"I guess they read the same book..." Kael said.
Immediately the Depressed Extinct Whale was shot down, it's flaming wreck draping over a block of flats.
"Great gods!" Mudwood shouted.
The Engineering Guild's ships were ruthless in their pursuit, firing aimlessly and without care.
"Hide behind the tier support! They wouldn't dare shoot there!"
But dare they did. Perhaps it was meant to be a warning shot to scare them out of hiding – either way it was foolish, as it smashed into the support.
It creaked, vibrated and then wobbled. It's little brass plates at the tops and bottoms with Quirke's face on them shuddered and fell off, bolts unscrewed themselves or popping clean out.
"FULL SPEED AHEAD!"
Already firemen and police were rushing about trying to evacuate the civilians and quench the fires now spreading across tier three.
The Endless Tree zoomed away with surprising speed, as if the airship knew what was happening and wanted to get out.
The tier support gave a final moan and crumpled alarmingly quickly. The entire of tier two and indeed tier one jilted forwards; tiles from St Paul's Cathedral slipped off, smashing far below on the base tier.
Amazingly, the other tier supports were holding out and everybody had been evacuated from the corner of town that collapsed – but then London started to brake. It's jaw was closing because it was eating Roma-su-Roate. If it didn't slow down, the jaws would smash against the now crippled town!
That was it. The rest of the front tier supports crumpled and the whole thing tilted forwards. Mudwood's now very small band of pirates could only watch in horror as smoke started to rise, and a few of the magnificent reinforced brick villas of tier two and one slipped forwards from the sudden brake, falling off the edge of the tier, past the giant rain catching gutters, finally shattering on the edge of the base tier.
Everybody felt it. Tom was just finishing his day at the historian's school at the museum, when everything jilted and shook, with a final almighty shove a minute later.
Everyone was shocked and were running about. After it had calmed down, he walked out onto the sloping street. What had happened?
When he went down the only elevator station still open, to tier three, there were policemen and workers from the minor Guild of Rescue and Emergencies. Big, red bugs were racing about putting out fires.
The rusty sky was leaning forwards – towards his home.
He was already crying when he got there. Only half the doorway remained, the iron sky having crushed the rest of the houses and everything behind it.
After about half an hour, Chudleigh Pomeroy arrived in one of the Guild of Historian's black bugs. He took Tom away – back to his new home. It was a disaster.
In years to come, Tom would learn that it had been an anti-tractionist plot to destroy London. But the brave police forces and Guild of Engineers had stopped the entire city collapsing.
Ironic, when it was the Guild of Engineers who actually caused it.