(CIRKUMFLEKS)Magazine

A Worm is a Bird and Other Bad
A Worm Is A Bird And Other Bad Things, was
originally published in SFF e’zine, which is
unfortunately no longer with us :( Anyway I thought it
a shame my story died in that way, so have
resurrected it for you to read. It’s from the steampunk
issue 5. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.
RIP SFF e’zine… (SFF e’zine by Peter Saga)
Amongst the ruins of her ship, crawls Captain Isabel Deckard. She can see
Paris, blazing. They’ve reached Europe. “A woman’s no substitute for the real
thing!” She looks towards a shadow turning into a man, can see the
smugness on her first mate’s face as he offers his hand, to mock her.
“M’lady!”
She growls, “This is no time for blame, Mr. Bailey.” She scrambles to her feet,
pushes him away, and points towards the sky. “I suppose men can fight
gravity? An unnatural gift if that were the case!” Through the smog and dust
of falling debris, they see more Zeppelins plucked, like fledglings crashing to
the war torn streets, once the cultural hub of Paris.
She barks, “Mechanical worms! The laws of science have reversed the
natural order of things. We’re living in a land where worms eat birds!” She
grabs his hand. “Run, Bailey. Or are you immune?” They run far enough away
to see the full damage to the Zeppelin. A home for five months to twenty crew,
burnt beyond the survival of anyone trapped inside. But Deckard didn’t earn
her place without the respect of her men, or most of them, at least. She
begins to turn, in hope that others were fortunate enough to be thrown from
the cabins. “My crew!”
Bailey screams, “Captain, get back!” A tremor underfoot begins to break the
ground beneath until the ship is taken, sliding into a place deeper than it was
designed to venture. It was made for the sky, not for the depths of earth. They
run, avoiding death, like insignificant specs in a landslide. “It’s chaos!” cries
Bailey, dragging his captain, sensing her reluctance to leave her ship.
Other ships are being plucked from the sky. More worms drag a once proud
army into graves, marked only by the craters left behind. The mechanisms
screech, like living creatures, driven by human pilots, trained for terrestrial
conquest. Deckard takes some explosives from her coat, more for comfort
than use. “The world’s turning to ash, and the sky even more so.”
Mr. Bailey draws his rifle. “It would have been kinder, if we’d died with the
others.”
(CIRKUMFLEKS)Magazine 2.2012