To Spite Another God Pt. 01

The newspapers of Berlin screamed a single word, at the top of their silent lungs.

KRIEG!!!

Underneath the bold text was the best illustration that the newspapers could manage of the terrible enemy that had, in a single month, reduced the single most powerful empire that the human race had ever seen into a cascade of human wreckage and desperate refugees. That wreckage was, even now, clogging the streets, despite the brutal efficiency of the blue clad Imperial Army. Carts, horses, men, women, children, all of them crashed together. But one could recognize the refugees at a glance. They were the ones who looked as if they could still not quite believe what had happened.

But among the stunned, shambling, seemingly already dead masses...there were some sparks. People who looked as if they had a plan beyond simply walking forward in an uncertain future. An idea about what they were to do with themselves. One such spark had settled inside of a small pawnbroker, and was haltingly using what little German she knew to haggle out the sale of her best friend's jewelry and her own wedding band.

"A hundred marks?" Wilhelmina Murray said, while to her left, Lucy sat in a chair and looked as if she was about to faint dead away. Lucy was still dressed in her Sunday best, which had been reduced to tattered over the past week's flight. Mina had managed to grab some of her clothing in the mad scramble as the viewing party had transfigured into a panicked stampede. The memories of that day sometimes still flashed through her, seared across her eyes like the grainy images of a newly rendered photograph.

The British army, arrayed with all of her colors, her guns.

Then, faster than one could imagine, the enemy. They emerged from behind copses of trees and the hamlets and villages. Walking along terrible, stilt like legs, with their saucer shaped bodies surround by a writhing mass of cephalopod tentacles that had been fashioned of the same queer steel-silver metal a the rest of their machines...the Tripods had not simply been walking engines of destruction. Had they merely had their speed, their armor, and the terrible strength of their legs and their arms, they would have been a horror.

But that hadn't been all.

Mina forced herself to forget the hideous screams as the first line of infantry burst into flames -- and then the worse screams as the people of London began to flee, in a desperate panic. Instead, she watched as the pawnbroker examined the jewelry she had quietly taken from Lucy. He nodded. "A hundred marks, ja," he turned to her, and on his face, she could see the lines and worries of almost a century carved into his features. His soulful eyes were solemn. "My advice would be to spend them quickly, Fraulein."

Mina nodded, jerkily.

She came to Lucy, then knelt down. She took Lucy's hand in her own. Her friend for years, Lucy Westenra, looked like a pale shadow of herself. Her blond tresses were bedraggled and her pale skin was smudged and dirty. She had gotten a cut on her forehead that had healed into a ruddy red scar that would be there for the rest of her life. But it was none of those minor, physical changes that made Mina's heart clench into a tight, iron hard ball. Rather, it was the expression of empty, desolate lostness that were in Lucy's eyes. Lucy didn't seem to see her. Instead, she murmured. "S-Surely...Quincy would be the best choice..."

"Lucy..." She said, quietly. "Lucy, please. You cannot say such things."

"I...I'm sorry, Mina," she said, shaking her head. "I...I...I..."

Mina drew her friend into her arms, giving her a quick, firm hug, trying to center Lucy in the moment. But she couldn't blame her. Mina had yet some hope in her life. Lucy had been courted by no less than three men over the past few months. Now, each was missing...or dead. Mina, at least, had been fortunate enough for her fiance, Jonathan, to be far out of country. His latest letter had arrived on the same day as the first cylinder crashing down in Surry, telling her that he had safely arrived at his destination. Mr. Hawkings had sent him off to handle some...land arrangement.

At the time, Mina had been...

Upset.

But now, the shining star of her life hung over eastern Europe -- not merely a way away from the madness and the terror that had consumed her home, but towards her family and her future. She clung to that as she guided Lucy out of the pawnbroker's house. Stepping out into the streets, the clamor of conversation, the clattering of carts, the shrilling of whistles, and the occasional crack of what might be gunshots rang out. Mina held Lucy close, and Lucy buried her face against her neck, sending a shiver, a crawling awareness of Lucy's closeness through her. Mina wondered why her mind wandered so -- and tried to focus instead.

"C-Come, let us see...maybe we can...get into the trains."

"Yes...a train sounds very nice," Lucy said. She kept her eyes closed...then forced herself to stand up straighter. She nodded. "I...forgive me for being such a wretched ball around your ankle, Mina, darling." She looked fragile as porcelain -- but Mina could see her old friend in her blue eyes again, not simply a lost child. "It's...been a trying few weeks, hasn't it?"

Mina's lips quirked up in a wry smile.

***

The trains were running at a maddened tilt that made the most frenetic rush hours in the London stations look like a calm Sunday afternoon. Smoke choked the air from the dozens of engines that were running at once -- and trains didn't so much as stop as slow down, men and material unloading at a frenetic pace. Cannon balls were stacked up in triangular caissons, while heavy guns were being rolled off cargo cars that were earmarked for cattle and grain. Prussian blue dominated -- pushing the civilians to the edge of the area.

But, Mina saw, that she was not without hope. Trains left carrying not soldiers and guns, but people. The old, children, women, they were being herded into train cars by bellowing conductors, and sent away as quickly as could be. She pursed her lips. It seemed that someone had learned the harsh lessons taught by London.

Mina and Lucy were then caught in the stupefying boredom that came during such moments of chaos. There were a thousand men and women here with desperate urgent tasks before them. Carrying, marching, moving, stacking and preparing -- directed by sergeants and corporals and officers of more exalted rank. But for her and Lucy, there was nothing to do but wait. And even terror grew less prickly and sharp as the time dragged on and the sky overhead began to darken -- lit only by the gas lamps. In the faint distance, rumbling could be heard...but if it was thunder or guns, Mina could not say.

Lucy, despite her brave words, had lapsed against Mina again, her eyes closed, her head tilted down. Mina bore her weight with a faint sense of pleasure -- the night was not chilly, not with this many bodies, not with the burning furnaces of the trains so close at hand -- but it was still a comfort to feel Lucy against her. She felt a faint flutter in her breast, and or a moment, wondered at herself...she shook her head and took out her journal. She had been quite studious in keeping notes and documents when things had seemed merely academic...

Between the first battles and now, though, she had a few scant jotted notes -- in shorthand, of course...

The battle of the HMS Thunder Child -- so shockingly vivid in her memory, was reduced to: Saw boat fight 3 Tripods. 2 Tripods slain, boat sunk.

Mina frowned, then retrieved a pencil from her tote bag. She held it in her fingers, looking down at the sparse description -- and considered, for a moment, a hideous image. It was of her careful notes and descriptions, laying charred net to her blackened bones, with not a human in a thousand leagues, and only the hideous stomping, clanking tripods looming over all. Mina shuddered from her head to her toes, closing her eyes -- and that roused Lucy, who murmured.

"Is our train ready?"

The train station was awash in people -- another few train cars had arrived, carrying infantry this time. The German Imperial Army looked decidedly grim and doughty -- but Mina had seen what the Martians did to human infantry. She tried to get the image of her own blackened bones out of her mind, saying: "No, it looks like we have a ways to wait. I was thinking of updating my journal. So Jonathan can read about it...but..." She set her pencil down. "It all seems...rather dire."

"You should," Lucy said, yawning. "Once this is all over, people are going to want to read about what happened."

Mina let out a little chuckle. "You really think that this will be over? After London? After England?"

Lucy sat up a bit. She frowned. "Well...God wouldn't let us all be wiped out by some fellows from Mars. It seems rather like breaking his promise." She yawned, again, then settled back against Mina. Mina smiled, then tucked some of Lucy's blond hair behind her ear, and then began to write.

I was upon the deck of a schooner -- her name, I cannot say -- when I heard the cries of alarm from the other passengers, drawing my eyes: Three of the tripods, marching out onto the surf, standing in the shallow water. There was an entire evacuation fleet, rushing for the European coast, and it seemed that our enemies did not wish to see them flee so easily. We all thought we were surely about to meet our Maker -- but then came another sound. Great and terrible and awe inspiring, it was a British ship, an ironclad of some construction. They gave their lives so that we might live...

***

The train, when they finally boarded it, was as claustrophobic and pressed as the schooner had been. People, packed in close, their suffering ranging from silent glares to stifled sobs to the wailing of children. Lucy had gotten the last remaining seat, but Mina was forced to stand -- she was one of the few women in the train forced to keep on her feet. She bore it quietly, and instead of reflecting on the growing ache of her feet, she threw up a mental map of Europe. They were, as of now, heading away from Berlin and to Prague, following along the same routes that her fiancee had taken. His location grew more and more...uncertain once they got to the eastern edges of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. But Mina wasn't thinking that far ahead, to be quite honest.

She was instead just thinking of Prague. Surely, it wouldn't be as catastrophic as Berlin -- the Martians had to be slowed by the Channel and by the might of France and Germany both arrayed against it.

France and Germany, fighting side by side, she thought. In another time, that very idea would have been frightful beyond belief. Now...

The train began to slow. Murmurs and conversation in German and other, more Slavic languages that Mina could no further follow than she could conversational Latin. The doors opened and people began to get herded off, but it was far before the lights of Prague. Lucy frowned as she looked out of the window she was beside, craning her head past a very old grandmother that someone had set in the seat next to her. "Mina, Mina," she said. "There are soldiers out there!"

Mina squared her shoulders, squashed her fear, and took hold of Lucy's hand as the train emptied into the evening chill. They had stopped in a forested area of countryside, with tall forests. The Austrians looked a great deal like the Germans, save that their pants were red, and they had a distinctly less grim edge to them. They started to question people they were taking off, soldiers peeling off into pairs to speak, many of them reading from papers and pamphlets they had been given. Some even began to search men and, to Mina's shock, women. She heard, again and again, the same question...

"Buboes?" she whispered. "What on Earth are they looking for buboes for?"

"What are those?" Lucy whispered back.

A soldier came up to the pair of them. His partner held the rifle while he read from the paper: "Are you or have either of you been exposed to the Black Plague within the-"

"Plague? What plague are you talking about?" Mina asked, too weary to be anything more than annoyed by this time wasting.

The two soldiers exchanged a glance. The one speaking to her -- a youth whose mustache had only started to bristle -- coughed and stammered. "L...Lieutenant Koller, he said that, ah, we're looking. For the Martian plague."

Mina wanted to slap her hand over her face in disgust. Instead, she clenched her teeth, then spoke, haltingly, carefully: "It is not a plague that they use -- it is a black smoke. A..." She didn't know how to say asphyxiating agent in German. But while she groped for words, the soldier with the rifle exclaimed.

"English!"

The other soldier blinked, then dropped his paper. He pointed. "Back up! Hands up! Now! Now!" He fumbled for his rifle, terror clear in his eyes -- and Mina flung her hands upwards, while Lucy did likewise. Lucy, her cheeks gone completely pale, started to speak, carefully, slowly.

"We...are not...going to...hurt?"

An officer in a high cap hurried over, his sword jouncing against his hip. "Explain yourself, private! What are you doing?"

"Sir, she's from England," the private stammered, his rifle rattling. "She's definitely got the plague!"

"There is no plague!" Mina said, hurriedly, her arms aching from lifting them over her head. "You have been misinformed -- there has to be a mistake going here."

The Lieutenant, Koller, looked to be in his middle ages. Not tough, more doughy. As if he had spent his life in an army that was generally at peace with her neighbors -- or if there had been wars (and Mina was honestly not sure if there had been any recent wars in this part of Europe) he had contrived to be on the far side of them if at all possible. Despite this, he still managed to sound reasonably in charge as he spoke: "Rifles down, lads. I shall interrogate these two myself. Come, and please, accept..." He paused. "How much German do you speak?"

Mina held up her finger. "A little," she said.

"Even less," Lucy added, which won her a little smile from Koller. He nodded, then gestured them forward, while calling out a name. That name, as it transpired, was a reedy man with thin glasses and a corporal's uniform, who Koller introduced as Schlosser. Schlosser stood behind his lieutenant and dutifully translated everything that he said, and everything that Mina and Lucy said in return. The conversation began pleasantly enough.

"First, let me say how very sorry I am to hear about the woes that have happened to your homeland," Koller, through Schlosser, said. "We have received scattered reports -- rumors, really -- but they are all quite grim. You are fortunate to have escaped..."

"Thank you," Mina said, Lucy bowing her head. The seats in the small tent that had been pitched beside the railroad tracks were comfortable -- but the tent was neither far enough nor thick enough from the tracks to disguise the faint chug chug chug chug of the train getting going again. Mina looked aside -- but before she could complain or ask questions, Koller asked his first question.

"What is are the weapons used by the invaders? Is it true that they have been spreading a plague? Have you heard of the red weed? Is it true that artillery works upon their tripods? Do they have other machines? Seagoing craft? Airships? Do they plan to take people as slaves, or do they simply kill them." On and on, the questions came -- and Mina did her game best to answer them. Lucy interjected as well, adding in what she had observed...but between the two of them, they barely managed to answer more than a scarce handful of the Lieutenant's questions. The only query that they managed to put paid to was the idea that there was a deadly pathogen the Martians were spreading.

"There must have been some confusion in the translation," he said. "The reports coming from Britain were quite..." He paused, then sighed. "Well, needless to say, you will need to be sent to my superior officer. Every piece of intelligence we can get is vital, and I'm sure they will have more questions for you..." As Schlosser belted the translation out, Koller began to stand up, his hand going to his belly, adjusting his belt.

"I...beg your pardon?" Mina asked.

"Well, of course, we are not going to simply leave you bereft," Koller said, frowning. "You two will be escorted posthaste to my-"

"We're going to my husband!" Mina said, springing to her feet, stretching the truth a mite. "He's in your country -- we need to get to him."

Koller raised his hands. "Tell me, who is this husband of yours? I will send a letter on to him, and he will come to you." He nodded. "You have my oath as a gentleman."

Mina sighed, then looked at Lucy, who was looking uncertain -- torn between wanting to fight and wanting to surrender. Mina's shoulders slumped and she realized that she had no choice. They had guns. She was alone, and...she frowned. "You...you...you cannot just order us here or there, we're British citizens-"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Murray," Koller said, his lips turning down in a frown. "But you are not. There is no Britain to be a citizen of anymore. Now, will you accept my soldier's escort or-"

"Fine!" Mina said, then put her hands onto her face and did her level best to not cry.

***

The army camp was situated within a stone's throw of Prague itself -- a large fortification that was steadily filling with regiments of infantry. Men by the millions, called up and about to be hurled into the fray. Mina, who could see the entire place from the window of the small room she had been given in the barracks. It was an officer's room, so she had her privacy and a writing desk. But while it was a huge step up over the road, she still chafed under it. Every day she spent here, answering pointless questions for some stuffed shirt that kept asking the same thing again and again, changing the phrasing just enough to make it seem as if he was asking a new thing...

A rap came at her door and she recognized Lucy's hand. "Come in," Mina said and Lucy stepped in. She was dressed in a new gown, donated by one of the officer's wives, and looked considerably more herself than she had in days. Seeing that, Mina could almost forgive Lt. Koller and his brusque commandeering of her life.

Almost.

"Still vexed?" Lucy asked, quietly.

"Yes..." Mina said, then started to pace the room. "I just...I..." She looked down at her hands. "I don't know what to do with myself. Finding Jonathan was my goal -- and without that...I just have to stand around and wait and watch these poor boys get lined up..." She bit her lip.

"Well, according to Mrs Brinkerhoff, she's the wife of the Colonel," Lucy said, her voice trying to sound bright and cheery. "If dear Jonathan was in Transylvania, it will...take...a few weeks for the letter to arrive, let alone come back, so...the fact it hasn't come back yet is no reason to worry, right?"

Mina chuckled. "I suppose you have the right of it," she said, then sat down beside Lucy. "I've been a terrible friend, though...I am merely worried for Jonathan, you-"

"Oh, no, I'm fine," Lucy said, looking away. Her hands tightened on her lap and Mina reached over, taking them gently. She laced her fingers between Lucy's fingers, gripping her hands tightly. "It...it...it doesn't even feel real sometimes. I...wake up, you know, and think that, oh, today, Quincy's going to come around and...show me some new absurdity from Texas, like that awful hat of his..." She sniffed. "Oh dear. I shouldn't speak ill of the..." She put her hand over her face. "Oh no. I'm so sorry, Mina, I..." She started to cry, quietly, and Mina quickly slid one arm around Lucy's back, drawing her in close, holding her tightly.