The Bobbies of Bailiwick and the Captive Ocean

By Christopher Blankley

Return to the Bailiwick, young Constable, the ethereal is sounding. Once again, the Zed attack as the ocean-filled sky swarms with dragons!

Can you help Jack, Red Ruby, LOF-t and Murray save the upside-down, inside-out world from total destruction? Find a sky cycle and fly, young Constable, for the future of the Bailiwick is in your hands!

The Captive Ocean is the next exciting chapter in the steampunk adventures of the Bobbies of Bailiwick, with action, magic, pirates, robots, and dragons aplenty.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Blankley
• Release date: Jan 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301671311

Christopher Blankley

Seattle is my home and the backdrop of many of my books. I am not a detective, or a zombie, or living in an alternate version of the 21st Century, so my life and my books pretty much just overlap with the Seattle thing. If you like detectives, zombies, alternate histories, even Seattle, you might like my books. I do. I like you. There, I said it. I’ve written over a dozen books, including the aforementioned ones about detectives and zombies and alternate histories. Did I mention Seattle? Seattle's in some of them, too.

Book preview

by

Christopher Blankley

Illustrated by

Kelly McClellan

Copyright © 2013 by Christopher Blankley

Smashwords Edition

Chapter 1

If Jack concentrated hard, he could see the silhouette of the bank vault, outlined in ones and zeros. It shimmered through the Bank of Leewick’s meter-thick walls, translucent behind the solid stone. He could see the gash rendered in the bank vault’s side, the iron peeled open like the petals of a sunbathing daisy.

Someone had picked the vault clean. Jack could see no money.

Jack stood at the ready with his sticky pistol in hand. The alley at the rear the Bank of Leewick was quiet, but any second, he expected some excitement.

A slight mist hung to the slick cobblestones of the alleyway. Above, the Bailiwick’s Captive Ocean churned, filling the sky. Jack glanced up and watched as a ball of lightning built on the ocean’s surface. It gathered in intensity, wrapping back on itself, swirling and growing in size, until it snapped suddenly free of the water. It arced through the cold, dark air between ocean’s surface and the city of the Bailiwick below, then faded away as quickly at it had appeared, leaving a dull streak of blue across the surface of Jack’s eyeballs.

Jack coughed and fiddled with the handle of his brass gun.

He felt slightly foolish standing idle in the empty alleyway. Perhaps, only meters away, the bank robbers could be escaping. But Jack had faith – faith in his fellow Bobbies. Red Ruby had yelled to Jack as his Number One vessel had touched down, to run and cover the rear of the bank. And cover the rear of the bank Jack had done. But as seconds ticked away and no gang of desperate bank robbers came stumbling from the rear of the bank, Jack began to fear that he’d been forgotten.

Just around that corner, at the end of the alley, Jack thought, the other Bobbies could be locked in a pitch battle with a whole gang of ruthless cutthroats. If he just left his post for a second to check...but no. Jack remained doggedly rooted to his spot. Cover the rear of the bank he had been told, and cover the rear of the bank he would do.

Jack’s mind began to wander.

What he wouldn’t give for a Zed or two to chase on his sky cycle...

Ever since Jack repelled the last incursion of the Zed, things had been rather peaceful. Dull, to be blunt. With no horde of rampaging Zed to protect the Bailiwick against, more mundane tasks had come to fill Jack’s time. Things like real police business – like the rash of bank robberies currently plaguing the city. Someone was systematically looting the major banks of the Bailiwick, each in turn, always one step ahead of the Bobbies of Bailiwick.

But not today. The Bobbies had heard the Bank of Leewick’s alarm.

Aboard Ol’ Tom only minutes earlier, the ethereal had sounded. Jack had leapt to his feet, excited at the prospect of a little action. But waiting quietly in a dark alley was not exactly what he’d expected. He hadn’t anticipated anything as extravagant as another Zed assault – no, that was unthinkable, the Bailiwick was still cleaning up from the last incursion – but maybe a little excitement. What could be the harm in that?

Jack coughed again and shifted his sticky gun from his right hand to his left.

Slowly, Jack began to feel a rumbling below his feet. Instantly, his thoughts jumped back to the events of Draconous Square, all those months ago, and the gargantuan robot that had pushed up through the crust of the Bailiwick. No, he certainly wanted no more of that kind of excitement! Jack struggled to keep his footing, looking down at the cobblestones below his feet.

But the earth didn’t fall away below his feet. No, instead, the rumbling steadily grew until it erupted into a mighty explosion. It picked Jack up and tossed him across the alleyway, where he landed up against the wall. A pile of displaced cobblestones fell on top of him. The sticky gun fell from his hand.

Jack groaned and attempted to pull himself to his feet. The debris were heavy, but he could feel it shifting on his back. Suddenly he stopped, as the sound of voices echoed in the alleyway, rising up out of the newly created crater.

Now how’s that, Mucker, ah? a voice said, distant at first but closing. Didn’t I say I’d take care of ya, just like ya were me own sprog?

From under the rubble, Jack caught sight of a head popping up, rabbit-like, out of the crater, surveying the destruction of the alley, then popping back out of sight.

Looks alright Reg, that it does... another voice said to the first.

Aye, too right! the first voice replied. Didn’t I say I’d get ya in and I’d get ya out, while all those other whinnies are off fightin’ it out with the Bobbies. We sneak out the back with the loot in hand, and them others take the fall. Weren’t that what I told ya, and ain’t that what we just done? A short, squat figure sprang happily out of the hole. A second figure followed, moving more cautiously.

That’s what you said, alright. That’s what you said, Reg.

Two round, squat shapes emerged from the crater, clambering up onto the cold cobbles.

That’s why I broughts me along a couple sticks of this here TNT. One figure flipped a stick of something in his hand. Ain’t nothin’ a few sticks of ol’ TNT can’t sort out, now is there?

Nope, Reg. You sorted it out alright! The other shape laughed. It was reaching back down into the blast hole, struggling to lift up something very heavy. After much effort, a large sack, almost the size of the two squat figures, appeared.

As the smoke from the explosion cleared, Jack was better able to make out the shapes of the two Elboem. They looked very much like any other Elboem Jack had seen in the Bailiwick, the featureless faces of the Bailiwick’s natives hardly varied. But these two Elboem were oddly dressed. Where most Elboem favored frock coats, top hats and canes, these two sported black and white striped shirts and highwayman’s masks. They looked like crooks, exactly as they might appear in one of Jack’s old cartoons. Their giant swag sack even sported a ridiculously large dollar sign on its side, as if to mark it specifically as stolen loot.

Now, let’s scarper, before them Bobbies can finish roundin’ up them others, the first bank robber drawled around a lit cigar that hung from his mouth. He took a step towards the pile of rubble that hid Jack, as he absentmindedly flipped a stick of TNT in his hand. Come on, Mucker.

The second Elboem was smaller, perhaps younger. He struggled with the weight of the swag bag, attempting to sling it over his shoulder. Right you are, Reg, he said. With the bag hoisted, he trotted to catch up with his partner.

Neither had yet seen Jack under the pile of cobblestones.

Jack blindly felt for his lost pistol among the debris. When his hand finally touched on its brass hilt, Jack strained to pull himself up from under the soil and rock.

Halt! Jack tried to yell, but only managed to cough and spit up a mouth full of dirt. Consta— cough Constable— hack Constabbbles…Halt! Back on his feet, Jack raised the sticky gun, flipping off its safety.

What? the older Elboem said in surprise. Coppers?

Spit. Don’t move! Jack finally managed clearly.

The Bobbies, Reg! Run! the younger robber cried out. He turned, almost dropping his sack, and lumbered off down the alley in the other direction.

Coppers! the older Elboem didn’t turn and run. An angry scowl came across his featureless face as he bit down hard on his cigar.

Jack fired his gun.

Reg ducked, but he was not the target of Jack’s shot. The wobbling blue orb sailed over the older Elboem’s head and splatted up against the fleeing sack of stolen loot. Instantly, two dozen tendrils spiraled out from the gooey spot, gumming the sack fast to the alleyway’s walls in a neon blue spider web.

The tendrils snatched the sack clean off Mucker’s back. He continued on, sprinting for a few more steps, unencumbered, until the lack of the sack caused him to stumble and trip. He hit the cobblestones and did a somersault, coming to rest on his haunches in bewilderment.

No Bobby’s gonna put the finger on me! Reg said, seeing the fate of his compatriot. The stick of TNT in his hand came up to his face and the fuse caught on the tip of Reg’s cigar. He pitched it back and tossed the stick at Jack, who reflexively fired an orb from his sticky gun at the flying bomb. Remarkably, he hit the spiraling bomb in midair, altering its course and sending it splatting up against the