Nano 2017 - Haemorrhage

The difference in emotion between father and son had rarely been more stark in the Jacoby household. The older Jacoby sat glumly by the fire wondering what it would take to ever be rid of Granny Plum, that dastardly old coot back in his space again not two hours after she had him grabbed by the throat. Now she was busy rooting through his maps, covering tables and floors with them  - even pinning some to his wall with an unnerving collection of knives that kept emerging from her handbag - while she hunted for something or other that he hadn’t been paying attention too. But Jack Jacoby was in an entirely different headspace. After all, he had a real live genuine Knight of the New Franklin Wingcore stood inside his dwelling. Just wait till he told his schoolmates! He’d idiolised the wingcore since for ever long he could remember. Watching them loop and sore around the habitat while he was either stuck on his dad’s crappy airship or, even worse, at school. And it had been Granny of ...

They were forced to call for assistance from New Franklin, the energy put into straining at the harpoon leash, then the quick getaway after Granny’s diversion depleting the airship’s energy store. While requesting help Jack made the mistake of mentioning that they had been attacked by ground dwellers. So as well as the tugboat sent to pull them back, New Franklin also sent over a fleet of its wingcore - the small fixed wing aircraft looping by them, performing elaborate stunts over the small town the Jacoby’s and Granny had been scrounging. The old lady watched them go, muttering curses over the fact that they seemed more intent on showing off than actually doing anything vaguely useful like tracking where the Princess’ transit van had got to. As the bulk form of New Franklin slowly emerged from the cloudy haze above them Granny mellowed a little. She would not admit to anyone, but she was glad to back back home safe after an enormously stressful few days. Jacoby was now sat up also,...

The Jacobys' airship held station about twenty metres above what had been a small children’s playground at the edge of town. While there it took Jacoby and Jack nearly 15 minutes to haul the elder man back into the gondola, all the time having to put up with Granny’s sarcastic commentary. Back on board Jacoby surveyed the small airship’s systems, somewhat dismayed at what he found. It’s batteries were near depleted from the sudden manoeuvring that came during their escape, and with the day transitioning to evening, the generating capability of the lightweight solar panels spread over the top of the thermal balloons was much reduced.  The two Jacoby’s poured over a map of the area, the older Jacoby tracing a finger along a dotted line he had marked in felt-tip before they had originally set off. “New Franklin will pass near over the top of us tomorrow morning” he said, explaining how the dotted line represented the planned route of their home habitat. “Best we lay low tonight, th...

The first haemorrhage emerged on Tuesday May 16th 2023 at 9:37 in the centre of Mumbai, India. The US Secretary of Housing and Urban Development (12th in line of succession to the presidency and most senior official still alive) issued a statement of universal surrender at 06:04 the following morning. A little over twenty one and a half hours was all it took for humanity to fall, a 99.99% casualty rate. The haemorrhages  first emerged where population density was highest, growing exponentially to eradicate entire cities within minutes. Some governments attempted to begin evacuations of urban centres. While this saved the buildings of some towns and cities from annihilation, it also just caused the haemorrhages to emerge within the snaking convoys of those thousands fleeing. Indeed, the haemorrhages took no notice of surrender. No differentiation between military or civilian, adult or child. No communication with them, or whatever had unleashed them, was ever established. Hum...

The hessian sack hung from a tatty rope over the deserted street, slowly rotating as it was lowered to the ground. It came to rest next to one in a uneven line of long abandoned cars that littered the street. With the ground now taking the weight of the sack, the cord around its neck loosened and flopped open. For a moment nothing more happened. The sack lay on the cracked tarmac, the abandoned cars remained slumped on rotting tyres. And the small airship that had lowered the sack held position above the roofs of the nearby houses. A head poked over the airship’s gondola, a grandiose term for what was a small wooden row boat erratically tied to three large thermal balloons. Splashed on the side of the gondola in lurid green paint were the words “Jacoby and Son”, but the head poking over the side casting a sceptical gaze of the still intert bag was not Jacoby or, indeed, any son. Rather it was an elderly lady, complete with curly white hair, thick horn rimmed spectacles, gaudy dangl...