The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) (13 page)

“Either or both please, Edward.”

“The engine is in great order Sir. Dortsmorn said he thought the radiator linkage was a bit loose earlier. I couldn’t see it myself. But can’t fault a man for being thorough. I sent him off to finish the work in the auxiliary bridge and got Gus to double check the engine just now.” Collins ticked something on his notepad then concluded. “So I have to give him ten out of ten for effort. If you take my meaning Sir.”

“I do, good show then. Don’t mind us, just showing the Captain here the heart of his vessel, just work around us we shan’t be here too long.”

“Aye-aye Sir.” Collins replied before settling back to his seat and checklist.

Nichols pointed to the engines one by one. “As you can see Captain, each engine powers one prop directly but they’re linked in sequence by this engine governor here. This means in a worst case scenario, or if we need in-flight maintenance, we can limp along on any combination of engines while we fix up the others. The props can maneuver independently and they are controlled from a gears station over here.” Nichols moved over to indicate a second control station next to where Collins was working.

“Very thorough Mr Nichols. But where are the Armstrong-Klein steam feeds may I ask?” Phillips commented.

“Just here Sir. Electrical energy from the Wolsey’s dynamos feed these two small boilers here and here Sir. This is where the blast that killed those in the accident originated.”

Phillips stepped up to the nearer of the two wall mounted, cylindrical, brass mini boilers. A large pipe dropped to the deck from each, a prominent valve and pressure gauge array was clearly visible below the boiler. “Which one of these did you replace Sir?” He asked, tapping on the gauge.

“This one, the left hand side Sir.”

Phillips looked carefully at the new gauge and its valve. Still visible was the slight scratchings Nichols had reported on the pipe’s otherwise gleaming surface. “You say you also found a length of what...string? Lying on the ground near here?”

“Yes Sir, more heavy twine than string”

Jerard measured the distance to the scratches and the arm of the emergency shut off valve with is hands. “Let me guess it was a little longer than this, yes?”

“Why yes Sir, I think it was.”

“Come with me Nichols lets go onto the booster engine nacelle now, if you please, I have an idea.” Phillips moved to the nearby door and exited the room. Once the chief engineer had joined him, he latched the door and explained himself. “I still have no idea as to the
why
yet Mr Nichols, but the
how
is a little clearer. The clockwork mechanism I think wound in a length of string which in turn opened the valve flooding the nacelle with the stored steam. When the clockwork device’s spring fully unwound it was designed to fly apart in an effort to obscure its purpose.”

“So once the repair was underway the blackguard set this contraption going and exited the ship before the accident occurred?”

“Possibly, or else he used the disruption of the accident to make his final exit, it is not possible to be sure. Either way, if you don't mind, I'm going to keep those gears and parts Sir. As my esteemed father made me put the music box back the way I found it all those years ago, there is a chance I can put this device back together as well. If I cannot there is a chance we may be able to track the manufacturer of the mechanism when we next get back to London.”

“Good thinking Captain” Nichols stated with respect. “Now Sir, if you’ll follow me to the rear stairwell the engine access is almost directly below us.”

A few feet past the rear door of the engine room the passageway widened out to surround a circular staircase made out of the same Duralium as the previous one; although this one was without decoration. Access panels lay along the walls, each marked with a blue circle.

“I assume the stair goes up into the gas bags Mr Nichols.” Phillips began “But what lays behind those may I ask?”

“Oh there is a crawl space to the main water tanks Sir. The two before us are ballast and the side pair are freshwater for drinking and utilities.”

“A crawl space? Hmm, perhaps Mr Nichols this is where our villain hid?” Phillips commented as they descended the circular stair.

“Possibly Sir, but I saw no sign that they had been tampered with after the accident.” Nichols replied as they stepped into the lower chamber.

Jerard glanced around. Apart from the corridor, two doors radiated away from the stairwell but the engineer didn’t indicate either of them. Instead Nichols moved to an access panel in the floor. Kneeling down, he produced a key and unlocked the recessed catch.

“This is it here Sir, have a closer look.” the man offered as a small access ladder was revealed.

At the bottom of the ladder Jerard found himself standing on a flimsy looking catwalk that ran around the ten foot long Armstrong-Klein engine. He stepped to the side to allow Nichols to come down while he looked around the room. Bundles of brass pipes threaded their way to the main turbine from a cluster of A-K pressure vessels near the rear of the assembly.

Nichols tapped on the glass of a pressure gauge set above the steam reservoirs, and grunted noncommittally before turning to his new captain. “The tank array here Sir can supply about 25 minutes full power to the engine, during that time we gain about an additional 300 horsepower, it raises our maximum flight speed from 60 to a little over 75 knots.”

“Useful to know Sir.” Phillips commented filing the information away for later. “Where were the crewmen working when the event occurred?”

“Over here Sir, As you can see the safety panels were too warped to replace exactly so I had them tied down temporarily. This here...” Nichols reached out to lightly touch another valve just above the pressure tanks. “...is the opposite end of the pipe I showed you upstairs.”

Phillips looked around and tried to picture where the three repairmen must have been. “No place to run and no place to avoid the steam jet. Poor blighters!” He whispered to himself.

“No Sir, none.” Nichols agreed grimly having evidently heard what Jerard meant as a silent observation.

“I’m sorry Mr Nichols I was thinking aloud. I didn’t mean to stir bad memories.”

“No apology needed Sir. Just help us catch the bastards that did this to a fine officer and crewmen.”

Stepping back towards the ladder Phillips agreed. “I intend to Sir. I fully intend to. You have my word on that.”

“Inchinnan tower, come in Inchinnan.” Mr. Jones spoke slowly and loudly into the box set into his desk.

“This - is - Inchinnan - tower - control - receiving - you.” Came the tinny voice back at him through the box.

“Inchinnan tower, this is the Soul of Discretion approaching from south by south east.”

“We - see - you - Discretion - proceed - to - docking - tower - three - - ground - crews - ready.” There was a loud crackle and hiss. Jerard could barely make out the final phrase, it sounded like “welcome home”.

“Confirm docking tower three, Inchinnan.” Jones said, fiddling with one of the knobs on the amazing wireless box.

“Confirmed - Discretion.” The voice came through louder and clearer this time.

“Discretion out.” Jones said firmly.

Jerard smiled. “I see you made good on your promise Mr. Jones! That device is indeed marvelous! I don’t think I would have believed it if I had not heard for myself.  A voice that came from over a mile away.”

The officer proudly patted the box. “That was nearly two miles Sir. It really is amazing Captain, I just wish we had more opportunity to use it.”

“As do I Mr. Jones.” Phillips agreed with the man. “Mr. Pruette, do we need a course change to achieve the landing field?”

“No Sir.”

“Then take us down Mr. Wallace.”

“Aye Captain!”

Wallace edged the controls downwards and the silvery ship swung about into the wind that was blowing softly up the Clyde river valley. Phillips took a last look at the edges of Glasgow city before their course put it directly behind them. Before and beneath them now lay the industrial might of Clydebank; one of the bastions of British naval shipbuilding. How appropriate, Phillips thought, that now the new air fleets were also being constructed here just south of the great foundries of their water born cousins.

Ahead the Clyde bent slightly northwards as the River Gryfe joined it, there snugly set in the angle of the two rivers lay Beardmore’s airship construction plant and proving grounds. Smoke rose unsteadily into the air from a dozen small chimneys as they dropped lower into the industrialized area. The landing field was very obvious with a second airship tethered to a stout steel girder tower a little further west of the tower Wallace was aiming towards.

Motioning to the other airship Phillips commented. “We have company for our lady here it seems gentleman.”

“Ah that would be the B97 Captain,” Jones replied. “Mr. Beardmore’s current testing and design ship. The Discretion was B96 before Mr. Starblower bought her from them last year.”

“I see” Jerard replied noncommittally. Something else on the ground had taken his attention away from the other airship now that they were closer to land. “Good lord what on earth is that?!”

“What Sir..? Oh yes that's a bit of a strange beastie isn’t it.” Jones replied once he saw where Jerard was pointing. “That's ‘Tower Four’ Sir. Beardmore’s experimental mobile Airship Docking Tower.”

“Beastie is right Mr. Jones, it’s huge!” The fourth airship tower was much shorter and of greater girth than the other three. Clouds of displaced steam billowed from twin smokestacks, as the thing could be seen to be literally crawling its way across the field on four massive caterpillar tracks. “What on earth is that for?” Phillips wondered aloud.

“Can’t rightly say Captain but that's Beardmore’s for you Sir, always building things just to see if they can I reckon!” The Welshman stated with a low chuckle.

“I knew they built ships and trains as well as airships but not things like that...”

“Ah they’re diversifying Sir going to produce a line of steam drive taxi cabs for the Scottish cites I heard tell.”

“Hrummph! Lets hope for the sake of the Scots they’re smaller than that!” Phillips laughed taking a last look at the huge mobile tower. “What's our height Mr. Wallace?”

“Two hundred feet an' fallin' Sir, headwind 4 knots”

“Steady as you go then Sir, who do we have in the nose, Mr. D’Arcey” Phillips asked.

The Frenchman was a little slow in his reply, and Phillips felt a pang of sympathy, likely the man had hardly memorized the crew rosters yet either. Something Jerard himself needed to do as a matter of priority. It didn’t do for the Captain to be seen as not knowing his ship and who did what task; bad for morale that!

“Mr. J. Landover Captain, Sir,” D'Arcey managed a moment later.

“Let me guess, Mr. Jones your box of tricks there can speak with him in the nose chamber yes?” Jones nodded affirmatively with a big grin. “Very good, Mr. Jones, have him stand by on the docking winch.”

Ahead of them tower three’s lights changed from Red to Amber. Then amazingly, with a blast of steam vented from a half dozen huge pistons, the central docking ring began to ascend up towards them! Phillips stared in fascination as he saw the hundred foot tower add another fifty feet to its height as it telescoped upwards. Like a majestic metal flower, a ring of netting extended out from the crown as it rose.

“Mr. Landover says he is in range to fire the harpoon, Captain.” Jones called out.

Harpoon? Phillips thought, again being keenly reminded this was no small aerial scout craft he was now captaining. Bemused as to the man’s meaning but not prepared to display any further ignorance in front of his crew he simply replied, “Proceed Mr. Jones.”

A dull thump and a slight shudder through the ship’s airframe came a moment later as a wire hawser shot free from somewhere directly above the control Gondola. The metal rope was easily caught by the tower’s netting. The airship was now close enough for those in the Discretion's bridge to see tower crew retrieve it from the net and wind the hawser into place on the tower’s securing winch.

“Ship secure Sir.”

“Hence the lights going green on the tower Mr. Jones, yes thank you.” Phillips drawled as the winch pulled the Discretion to almost kiss the steel tower. “All engines stop. Drop the rear mooring lines as soon as can be.”

Getting up from his seat he surveyed the bridge and made sure he had everyone's attention.

“A very pleasant flight, and most informative regarding our ship’s capabilities gentlemen. Secure all stations then you’re dismissed. Please keep in mind Miss Smythe-Harris asked us to stay near-by.”

A chorus of “Aye Sir!” acknowledged his command and Jerard left the bridge. As soon as they had disembarked and the inspection was done, Jerard was determined to take Nichols up on his offer to see more of the Discretion. He rather disliked being surprised all the time by something that was supposed to be his command. However, this minor annoyance was tempered by his growing fascination for the eclectic nature of his new ship. What else have you to show me old girl? He thought and patted the bulkhead as he left the bridge.

Tash stepped out of the ship’s hatchway and onto the tower. The late afternoon sunlight poured across the moors highlighting what was left of the purple heather. She wished she had some talent with a needle and thread in order to capture the greens, grays and purples that spread like a quilt across the low hills. The sun was warm after the chill of the airship and Tash turned her face to experience every ray of it.

“The sun is nice, yes?” Gopal said softly. “Sometimes...” He sighed. “I do not think I will ever be warm again.”

Tash merely nodded her head in agreement; she had often thought the same thing. In the ten years they had lived on the British Isles Gopal had never once expressed a desire to return home. The wistful note in his voice reminded her that she too missed India. Perhaps it was time to return home, at least for a visit. She was long overdue to patch things up with her father.