Beneath Gray Skies (47 page)

“Eloquently put, Colonel,” replied one of the other men seated at the table. He was wearing a brigadier-general’s uniform. “It doesn’t explain why you took it on yourself to close down all the telegraph offices within twenty miles of Cordele yesterday.”

“I closed down the telegraph offices,” explained Vickers patiently, “because I wished to have the view of the whole Cabinet before allowing news to reach the outside world. Since the Cabinet had not yet been convened—indeed, we were at that time unsure of the very composition of the Cabinet—I decided that no news was better than half-truths.”

“Which have been circulating, all the same,” pointed out the brigadier, for whom David was now starting to feel a dislike.

“Sir, these appear to be the result of the wireless reports made by the German news service through the United States. I confess that I did not know of the existence of this wireless apparatus—it was independent of the German military communications system, which I had ordered to be closed down.”

“So what do you propose, Colonel?” came the question from one of the few men in civilian attire sitting around the table.

“I think we should first of all make it clear to the world what our policy is with regard to emancipation. That alone will surely garner us the world’s support.”

“There is one small problem I see there,” commented the brigadier. “You had assured us that our German friends were unwittingly going to assist us with the costs of emancipation. So far we see no sign of this, and without this help, we cannot possibly proceed with the emancipation program.”

Vickers shrugged. “A minor detail,” he explained. “The pod containing the treasure failed to drop at the correct time, and is still in the wreckage of the airship.”

“It’s my belief that they never meant to give it to us at all,” growled another man from the far side of the table.

“I think I can persuade you otherwise. My aide here was actually on the bridge of the airship during her last minutes.” David shrank, embarrassed, into the depths of his chair as twenty pairs of eyes swiveled in his direction. “He will now describe to you what happened at that time. Sergeant Slater, please.”

Even though Vickers had warned him that he might have to speak in front of these people, David was still nervous. He rose to his feet, and in a low voice described what he had witnessed on board the bridge of the
Bismarck
in her last minutes. “I saw Captain Eckener attempt to release what he called ‘the pod’ several times.” He was pleased to see that no-one wished to question his word, but as he moved to sit down, he was prevented by a question.

“Tell me, Sergeant,” asked the civilian who’d spoken earlier. “How did you escape from the airship?”

“Well, sir, truth to tell, I was a bit scared to jump,” he confessed. “Captain Eckener had given me a parachute and told me how to use it, but I couldn’t rightly bring myself to follow him out of the door, even though I could see the fire at the back of the airship.”

“What made you jump, then?” asked his questioner.

“President Davis and one of the Germans, Major Goering, came into the control room. President Davis asked for my parachute, but I wouldn’t give it to him.”

“Why not?” curiously.

“Well, two things, sir. First off, I’d been thinking about some of the things that the Germans had been saying to me earlier about how a new government was going to make life better for us all. That was one thing.”

“And the other thing?”

“Well, sir, this is going to sound real dumb, but when President Davis was all angry and started shouting at me to give him my parachute, the look on his face put me in mind of one of my uncle’s hogs. And I started laughing so much I fell out of the airship.”

A burst of laughter from round the table, but as far as David could tell, it was laughter at what David had said, not at David himself.

“That,” said the brigadier, “is one of the best things I’ve heard in my life. Thank you, Sergeant.” David sat down, and the brigadier turned to Vickers. “I think your task, Colonel, is to get back to Cordele again and get that pod from the wreckage and bring the contents back here.”

“I have your permission to use the airplane on which I flew yesterday?” asked Vickers.

“Naturally, Colonel. The faster, the better.”

Vickers turned on his heel, motioning to David to follow him. As they walked out of the door, he said to David, “Don’t forget your baggage,” pointing to the machine-pistol that David had left standing in the cloakroom rack intended for canes. David picked it up and followed Vickers, wondering what the “pod” was, and why it was so important.

He reached inside and pulled out a small cloth bag.

B
y now, David had convinced himself that airships were infinitely preferable to airplanes. The latter were noisy, draughty and cramped. The noise of the small biplane had nearly deafened him, he was sure he’d caught a chill from the wind whistling past his ears in the open cockpit, and he badly needed to use a latrine.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said, as soon as they had stepped to the ground. He half-sprinted for the latrine block, and realized, to his amusement, that Vickers was following him.

They emerged from their stalls at the same time.

“I guess it’s the vibration or something,” commented Vickers, is what David thought he heard Vickers say. David let it pass without comment—it didn’t seem to need an answer.

“Sir?” said David. “Can I ask you what’s going on?”

“You can ask me, Sergeant,” replied Vickers, “but I am not sure that I’m the best person to be answering you. Maybe a friend of yours can explain better.” They entered Vickers’s office, where a familiar figure was waiting.

“Brian!” said David, pleased to see his friend again. “Are you meant to be here?”

“He most certainly is,” replied Vickers. “Well, Captain, can you please explain to the Sergeant here what’s going on with the pod and everything. He’s a little puzzled.”

‘Captain’? thought David to himself, but he held his peace.

“Well, David,” said Brian. “Being a bright lad, you’ve probably worked out a lot of this for yourself, anyway. The Germans were giving Jeff Davis a little present, but Dr. Eckener had very kindly agreed to drop it off in advance where Colonel Vickers could get it and use it for his friends, whom you’ve just met. But there was some sort of hitch, it seems, and the present is still at the back of the airship, so you and Colonel Vickers and I are going to rescue it before anyone else has any bright ideas.”

“I see,” said David. “Isn’t that kind of stealing?”

“Well, not really,” said Brian. “You see, it wasn’t really given to Jeff Davis. It was really given to the Confederate government, and now that there’s a new government which Colonel Vickers is a member of, he has as much right as anyone to it, wouldn’t you agree?”

“And you’re a prisoner,” objected David.

“Again, not really. I’ve been helping Colonel Vickers with a few little problems, and we worked out that what I’d done for him was worth letting me go for.”

“That’s about the size of it,” agreed Vickers. “Now, both of you, pick up some of those tools over there and grab a pair of gloves each, and come with me.” He picked up a crowbar and a small sledgehammer, together with a pair of firefighter’s gauntlets, and led the way out of the deserted building.

Major LeHay came towards them from the direction of the wreck.

“Thank you, Major,” said Vickers. “I take it there has been no looting?”

“No, sir,” replied LeHay, looking curiously at Brian and David and the tools they were carrying.

“Very good, Major. You and your men are dismissed.”

“Sir?”

“Dismissed, I tell you. How many times do I have to tell you?”

LeHay saluted smartly and turned on his heel.

They continued walking towards the crumpled wreckage of the airship. Even though there were no flames, the heat from the wreckage could still be felt, even at a distance. “We’re nearly there. It’s might feel hot in the wreck. If you feel faint because of the heat, get away from the wreck so that you can breathe. Don’t take any silly risks.”

“Sir, this is going to sound pretty dumb, but what are we looking for?”

“Not a dumb question at all,” replied Brian. “We’re looking for a large square steel box, about this big on a side.” He held his hands about five or six feet apart. “Don’t worry, Major Weisstal says it’s not nearly as heavy as it looks.”

“I hope to God the insulation has protected the contents from the heat,” said Vickers. “Okay, gloves on, and in we go.”

The three men picked their way through the mass of twisted girders, some still almost glowing, and all of them hot. No-one was around to pay attention to the three figures picking their way through the remains of the tail section.

Major Vickers continued through the maze of the tortured skeleton, and small parts of airship: valves, turnbuckles, rivets and so on littered the ground beneath their feet. David, remembering the beauty and majesty of
Bismarck
only the day before, almost wept.

“Here we are,” announced Vickers, as they reached a crumpled mass of sheet metal. “This is the pod nacelle. Can we tear away the covering with the crowbars? It should be quite thin.” Vickers’s assessment was correct, and the three tore away the metal sheets to disclose a cube, covered in bright yellow powder.

“The heat must have set off the pyrotechnics for the sea dye,” said Brian. “Hope this comes off, or we’re going to look bloody silly covered in yellow powder when we go out into the open.”

“We’ll take it that way,” said Vickers, indicating the direction away from the shed, where the wreckage would mask the view.

“Are we strong enough to move it?” asked David, anxiously. “I don’t see how we can pick up something that size with just the three of us.”

“I’m glad one of us is practically minded,” said Brian. “Let’s see if we can roll it over. On the count of three. All together, one, two, three, push!” With a crash, the box came out of the sheet metal and rolled onto its side. “That wasn’t too bad,” said Brian. “Apart from the bloody noise. And I’m getting bloody hot already. Never mind, here we go again. One, two, three…”

As Brian had said, it was surprisingly easy to move the box. Once they had it a safe distance from the wreck, they stripped off their gauntlets.

“Well done, Sergeant, you did well. We couldn’t have done that on our own. It needed the three of us.”

“It certainly did,” agreed Brian. “Well, David, you’re in for a treat.”

With a slightly theatrical flourish, Vickers produced a key from a pocket inside his jacket, and turned it in the top keyhole of the three running down the side of the box, which appeared to open like a safe. “Why don’t you do the middle one?” he suggested to Brian, and then the sergeant can have the honor of unlocking the last one and opening the door?”

Brian unlocked his lock, passing the key to David, who then unlocked the bottom one, and used the key as a handle to open the door.

“It’s a wooden crate inside,” reported David. “Quite small. About three feet on a side. The walls of this thing are mighty thick.”

“Does the wood look burned?”

“No, sir, not at all. It’s still a bit warm, but it’s not hot at all. Do you want me to bring it out?”

“Go ahead,” replied Vickers. “Careful, it might be heavy. Tell me if you need help.”

David removed the wooden crate, which turned out not to be heavy at all. The lid was nailed shut.

“Go ahead, then Colonel,” invited Brian. “Your party.”

Colonel Vickers reached for his crowbar and prized the planks, one by one, from the top of the crate. He reached inside and pulled out a small cloth bag.

“I thought the Treasure of Priam was a bit bigger than that,” said Brian.

“So did I,” agreed Vickers. He untied the drawstring of the bag and plunged his hand inside, drawing it out clutching a necklace of large sparkling stones.

“That’s not Priam’s Treasure or Helen’s Jewels,” said Vickers.