The Worlds at War - Part 2

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The attacking and defending ships were now only a few hundred yards apart, all of them with sails billowing with winds blowing from directly behind them, and some over-enthusiastic weapons crews were already discharging their weapons. The bridge crew of the Jules Verne watched in fascination as ballista bolts and catapult stones flew, curving under the influence of gravity even in the wide spaces between the two fleets, which had now oriented themselves to be in the same plane. Every ship appearing upright as seen from every other. None of the missiles hit, and as they passed short of their targets they continued to fall, arcing way into the infinite empty depths beneath the ships.

"If I could mark the point at which they cease curving and begin moving in straight lines," mused Karog, "I could determine how far in each direction their gravity fields extend." He reached for his notepad and pencil and began jotting little diagrams on it, along with numbers and scribbled formulae. He mumbled to himself as his stylus flew across the shiny bryvol surface and he occasionally cursed as he erased the whole page and started again..

"The two fleets are approaching each other," muttered Timothy, "so how can the wind be behind both of them?" No-one paid him any attention, though.

The officers were screaming at the weapons crews who'd shot too early, waving their arms as they berated them and shouted abuse, and the others, their faces pale with fear, stood ready until their enemies came within range. The spells of the wizards had greater range, though, and they cast their spells while the two fleets were still hundreds of yards apart.

Some of the ships were protected by globes of force against which the spells expended themselves uselessly, leaving the ships untouched. Most of the ships lacked this protection, though, and the bridge crew of the Jules Verne watched breathlessly as balls of yellow fire blossomed in the rigging of enemy ships and hails of silver darts struck down their crews. One ship was struck by three separate attacks and while the sails burned the planks of the hull twisted and warped, ripping out of place and spilling ballast and provisions into empty space. A moment later the hull lost its integrity altogether and the ship literally fell apart, tearing itself into a cloud of drifting debris and sailors who, incredibly, tried to swim towards neighbouring ships.

"They're still surrounded by a bubble of air," exclaimed Timothy. "Do the crewmen all have their own individual bubbles now, or has the ship's bubble expanded to cover a greater area? Does that mean their air's getting thinner?"

"None of the fragments are falling," said Saturn thoughtfully. "They are neither under the influence of the ship's own gravity field nor the fleet's communal field. I can understand the ship's individual field failing upon its destruction, but the communal field...? This makes no sense! There's no consistency!"

"Maybe there is no communal field," suggested Strong. "Maybe the ships' gravity fields communicate with each other somehow so that they orientate with each other."

"But the catapult stones..." protested Timothy.

"Maybe the ship's gravity field extends itself to include them until they reach their target."

"That seems rather... involved," muttered Karog, aware that that wasn't the right word but distracted by his scribbling. "I have the feeling there ought to be a simpler explanation. A few simple rules..."

"Our own universe doesn't behave according to simple rules," pointed out Timothy, "so why should this one? It may simply be the whim of the local Gods that things be this way."

Karog scowled unhappily at the suggestion but continued to scribble. He was distracted from his calculations, though, when Timothy cried out excitedly. "Look! They're coming into range of each other."

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