© James Pyles

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Just a reminder, my steampunk, pulp fiction short story “The Last Oasis of Mars” will be featured in the premiere issue of High Tower Magazine on Friday, June 14th. If you click the link before then, there’s not much to see. Click Subscribe to subscribe to the new periodical. Clicking No, thanks takes you to more information. So far only the About page has any real content. After all, it’s just getting off the ground.

Speaking of which, here’s a short sample of my wee missive:

“Well damn, boys. Here we go.” Left hand on the wheel, he threw the throttle full forward. Braking hard, he let the twin propellers spin up to maximum and then released his craft. “Hope the hell you know what you’re talking about, Inkosi.”

The wall came up like lightning, and then instead of a deafening crash, Thuvia sailed through a gossamer film of crystal dust and was in sunlight. The aircraft shot forward like a projectile within the confines of the fort while the entire garrison’s attention was focused on the Dazzler just cresting the cliff high above.

His forward-mounted cannon cut down fifty men in a matter of seconds, but Jack narrowly avoided running into the main gate before veering off to the right. His ship spun and twisted within the main compound like an angry mosquito, the engines shrieking like a banshee.

From above, the cannons of the Dazzler were making short work of the Fort’s defensive ordinance. There was screaming and panic among hardened troops and wealth-glutted merchants as they died, and only some bravely.

The high whistles of the Martian voices doubled and then quadrupled, and on one pass across the eastern wall, Jack saw that some of Inkosi’s companions had liberated their kinsfolk from the stockade. They had no weapons, and many fell before the soldiers’ rifles and sabers, but the typically peaceful Abantuu had learned to fight with teeth and claws thanks to the iron hand of Commodore Blackburne.

“Now where did…” Jack’s musing was cut short as an explosion threw up dirt and rock almost directly in his flight path, causing him to swing wildly to starboard. One of his companions was thrown clear of the boat, and the other was mewing like a kitten while clutching onto one strap of his restraining harness.

“Hang on.”

Jack pulled the wheel and climbed directly toward the keel of the Queen Victoria. “Oh damn!” He managed to skim beneath both the ship’s hull and the blasts of two of her cannons. Then rocketing upward across her stern, he saw why they were all but ignoring him. The Victoria was ascending to engage the Dazzler.

The pride of the British fleet was only a hundred yards below the bow of the pirate ship, and she outgunned the Dazzler ten to one. Already all of the enemy skyships were harassing the Razzle Dazzle like a swarm of hornets, while cannon fire from the war vessel had breached her weakened port hull plates.

“She’ll be done for if the Victoria makes altitude.”

What happens next? On Friday the 14th, go to High Tower Magazine and find out.