The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) (28 page)

“Mr. Jones, have you any word from Mr. Nichols?”

“No Captain, but we’ve got the grill system working again. I will keep trying to raise someone in the gas bag chamber.”

“Thank you Mr. Jones.” Jerard tried to relax but what he wanted to do was to go and find out what was going on with the repairs. It had been well over an hour since he had heard from Nichols and quite frankly he was getting worried. He slammed his hands down on the arms of the chair, that was it, he could no longer sit here.

“Mr. Jones, you have the bridge. I will return in a few minutes.” Jerard was on his feet and off the bridge before anyone could really respond. Striding purposefully towards the aft bridge he spied Nichols coming out of one of the far doors. “Nichols!” he shouted. “Why haven’t you reported?”

Nichols looked up at the Captain marching towards him and sighed. He was going to have to inform the Captain that the repairs could not be finished and he realized that he could not accurately report just how much was left.

Why is he just standing there? Jerard wondered angrily. But a few more paces revealed Nichols wet and bedraggled appearance and even more importantly his air of utter exhaustion. “Good God Man! What’s happened? No belay that question, let’s get you into your quarters and get some dry clothes on, you’ll catch your death of cold!”

“In a moment Captain. I must inform you that we were not able to completely repair the hull Sir. There is still one known tear and maybe more. We are still taking on water but I believe we have slowed the rate and I think we have been able to do enough to make it to port. Two me...two were injured during the repairs we’ve had to stop for now.”

“Not seriously injured I hope?”

“I’ve just come from Airshipman deReuter, he has a broken arm, Mac is setting it now.”

As if on cue a shout sounded from one of the closed doors. Both men turned to stare at it but no further sounds issued fourth.

“I believe he has finished Sir.” Nichols said unnecessarily.

Jerard nodded, he had never had a bone set but understood it to be a rather painful event. “And the other crewman Sir?”

“Just going to check now Sir.”

“Very well, carry on Mr. Nichols and Sir, get yourself into some dry clothes before reporting.”

“Aye Captain.” Nichols turned guiltily away. He had no idea of how the Captain would respond if he knew Tash were the other person injured. He was just too tired to broach the subject and at the moment, a row was not what he needed.

Another clap of thunder shook the ship reminding Jerard that he needed to get back to the bridge on the double.

*****

“You are NOT getting up!”

“Yes I am!”

“No you are not! You are going to finish that soup and stay here and rest!”

“I HAVE finished the damnable soup! And I am getting up!”

Gopal ducked as the large mug flew over his head and smashed against the door. “Must you Tash? That is so childish.” Gopal was not so lucky this time as the angry young woman changed the trajectory of the next object to fly. He caught the spoon as it bounced off of his head and sighed. “Please help me to understand Tash, what is so important that you cannot rest for a little while?”

Tash picked up the remains of the stickey rope that had been cut from her neck and made as if to throw it.

“If you throw that at me I will throw it back and we both know that my aim and strength far exceeds yours!”

Tash dropped the rope and leaned back against the pillows, covering her face with her hands she burst into tears. Gopal stared at her in stunned amazement, completely at a loss as to how to deal with this latest development. Tash angry, Tash fierce, Tash determined, Tash happy, Tash confused, all of these things he could deal with but Tash in tears? This was unheard of. The last time he could remember tears was when she lost her first business deal and that was....that was nearly ten years ago! And even then they were angry tears, tears that resulted in a more determined Tash.

Gopal approached the bed cautiously. Gingerly sitting on the edge he pulled Tash’s hands away from her face. She reacted by throwing herself into his arms. It was then that he felt her fear and understood what had caused the tears.

“You cry because you are mortal.” He crooned in a soft voice. He slid further onto the bed so that he could properly hold her. “We are all mortal.” He said with a finality borne of experience. One arm held her tightly while the other began to work lose the tangled braid at her back.

“Remember when you were 16? You wanted to give your father a memorable birthday gift. So we went hunting the great bull elephant.” Gopal hesitated until he felt Tash nod. She drew a breath that was not a sob so he continued. “You made a magnificent shot. Do you remember?” Tash nodded against his damp shirt. “But it only made the bull angry. The shot bounced off of his head and he charged us. Remember?” Tash nodded and managed a few muffled words. “I jumped out in front of you, remember? Then the he gored me and threw me into the air...” Tash raised her face to look into Gopal’s eyes.

“I thought I would die that day.” she whispered.

“No Tash, I thought
I
would die that day. I landed on the elephant’s back by the grace of Ganesh, Lord of the World but most importantly, Lord of the Elephants.” Gopal smoothed the hair from Tash’s face and smiled down at his charge. “You shot him again. A charging elephant and you never moved, you shot him, straight through the heart as he was bearing down on you. The last thing I remember before I passed out was you holding your ground, determined to take down this beast that that was nearly a hundred times your size.” Still stroking Tash’s wet hair Gopal closed his eyes reliving the memory. “I can barely remember you climbing up and dragging me down, I was in a fog of pain and every movement hurt.”

Tash sat up and looked at Gopal. “I remember. It was awful. I remember we both cried, covered in blood, yours and the elephants, we both cried. I remember I begged you not to leave me. But what I remember most was the look in your eyes, you kept that look long after I had you bandaged up and we were on the way home.”

Gopal bowed his head a moment and then looked back up at Tash. “It is the same look you have in your eyes right now.” He stood and offered his hand to Tash. When she accepted he guided her to the standing mirror and turned her to face herself.

Her bright blue eyes were dark, as dark as the storm raging outside. “I thought I had died....” Tash took a deep breath looking into the mirror at Gopal standing behind her. “I could not breathe, my lungs were on fire, my arms and legs would not move, all I could do was look helplessly into the dark.” She closed her eyes for a long moment and took in a deep breath as if sucking in life itself. “You saved me, again.” she accused.

Gopal chuckled. “I think, dear one, it was a group effort. Mr. deReuter got to you first and kept you from further strangulation, we only got you back down to the ground.

Tash took the information in and nodded. She turned slowly to Gopal before speaking. “I think I understand a lot of things now.”

“And....?” Gopal queried. Then she grinned. That Tash grin, the one that meant trouble, the one that meant courage, the one that told Gopal, as her protector, that everything was going to be alright.

“And it means that I need to get dressed. I haven’t bothered our Captain Phillips in several hours now, I am sure he is missing me!”

Gopal did not bother to hide his chuckle as he went to the wardrobe to find something suitable for Tash to wear. Hm, he thought, it must be fitted to show off her excellent figure but modest enough to hide the hideous rope burns and bruises now showing up around her neck.

****

Tash floated unnoticed onto the bridge. The sound of the storm here was nearly as loud as it was in the gas bag chamber. The only difference was that you could see nature’s fury through the glass of the forward bubble. She paused as a jagged streak of lightening pierced her vision; the after-image was still strong as the resulting thunder rumbled the ship. She could not stifle the gasp nor her iron grip on Gopal’s arm as images of the rope tightening around her neck threatened to over whelm her.

Despite the drumming rain Captain Phillips had heard something. His head whipped around and he was by her side in seconds. Anger and alarm seemed to war for prominence in his demeanor as he took her other arm. Straightening her spine she spoke quickly, deciding that she would rather deal with his anger right now rather than his apparent over zealous concern .

“What is going on here!?” She snapped.

“I believe we have taken a lightening stroke Ma’am. Nothing too serious, more dramatic than dangerous. Things are well under control, so I think you can return to your cabin with confidence.”

“I’ve never been up in a storm like this Captain” she informed him, gently removing her arm from his grasp and taking a seat on the bridge settee. “Captain Mather made a point of going around them, or over them I believe. Why didn’t you?”

The question was barely civil and Jerard didn’t appreciate having his decisions ignorantly questioned in front of the crew. However that argument was for another time. For now he ground his teeth and tried to recall that this was his employer’s mouthpiece. Mentally counting to ten first, he replied steadily.

“Captain Mather was correct to do so. Were our particular flight not under such time constraints at her Majesty’s order; I’d have done the same Ma’am. As for flying over it, the storm front was too severe for our lift capacity. Now as it is I’d be grateful if you would return to your cabin and leave my crew and I do our jobs.” He replied a trifle curtly. But to be fair he was irritated now and Miss Smythe-Harris’s eyes were almost more distracting than the occasional lightning flashes that still lit the gondola from time to time.

Tash made no move to get up. Instead, she nodded to Gopal and with practiced ease the man moved to the drinks cabinet and took out a stout looking decanter. He poured her a small nip of something a deep amber yellow. With very obviously feigned weariness she sipped the cordial. “In a moment Captain, I need a little something to steady my nerves. Oh and isn't the display outside so much more dramatic from the gondola. Almost like flying through fireworks!”

Still wanting to grind his teeth Phillips nodded curtly and returned to his duty station, his back firmly presented to the woman. “Altitude please, Mr. Wallace.”

“3,700 feet Sir”

“Very good, keep us above three thousand five, otherwise steady as she goes. Report Mr D’Arcey.

“Gas bag pressures holding steady now. Fuel reserves at seventy-five percent. Engine two ez operating hot but acceptable, Captain.”

“Good. Mr Jones let the galley know that as soon as they are able, they are to get something hot ready for the crew. I believe we will all need it. Mr. Randal, have you got new figures for me?”

“Yessir, I project we’re 24 miles south of our original course with a two mile margin of error.”

“Still acceptable Fred, good work” Phillips took out the pocket journal from the small compartment in his lectern like desk. With a sharp pencil he began adding the lightening strike to the day-book for transcribing to the main log later.

The lightning flashes slowly gave way to nothing more than driving rain. Vicious gusts of wind slapped waves of heavy droplets on the glass of the gondola. Visibility was still a distant memory as the view lightened from the pitch black to a blurred wall of churning grays. The tension level on the bridge seemed to lessen in concert with the storm. The bridge crew began to ease back in their chairs and to breathe more normally. So it was a bit of a surprise when Wallace spoke up.

“Sir, were loosing height again I can’t seem to hold her at three-four hundred.”

Phillips looked up from his transcription. “Air speed?”

“Fifteen knots Sir, bow angles down four degrees, despite everything I can do, We’re dropping steadily Sir!” For the first time since the Soul of Discretion entered the storm the young pilot’s voice held a note of actual panic.

“Let me take her a moment Mr Wallace.” Jerard stated calmly getting up from his desk. “I want to feel the ship’s movement myself.”

Almost gratefully Wallace stepped away from the control yoke. As Jerard grasped it he felt the tug of resistance on the pitch control indicating the young man had been holding the nose up at full angle. A glance at the altimeter still showed the airship dropping some two feet per second. At that rate the ship would be in the water in less than half an hour!

“If we were higher up and it was winter time I’d say we were iced up gentleman.” Phillips said keeping his voice calm for the benefit of the crew. “I have an idea, however, hold on a moment.”

Reaching down he toggled the engines back to three quarters power. Almost immediately the rate of decent fell back to less than a foot per second.
That just buys us time;
at the cost of speed, we’re still falling
he thought looking at the airspeed which had dropped to virtually nothing. “OK take over Mr .Wallace hold it steady as you can. Mr. Jones ship wide announcement fast as you can; Message is as follows: Find a secure location, all passengers and non-air crew to their quarters, prepare for rapid ascent.” Jones bent over his desk and immediately began sending out message canisters and repeating the captain’s words on the internal grill system.

Phillips turned to D’Arcey. “Now Sir can we redeploy ballast internally on this ship? Or are the fore and aft tanks independent,?”

Jules D’Arcey looked blankly at Jerard as if he did not understand the question.

“The ballast tanks man! Are they connected together or not?

“Oui Captain, the tanks are linked by a set of pipes but that is only for balancing pressure. We cannot...”

“That should be fine for what I have in mind.” Jerard interrupted. “Altitude please, William?”

“Two-thousand nine-hundred Sir. Still can’t hold her level, Sir. The down drafts and the rain are forcing us lower.”

Phillips actually smiled at the nervous sounding younger man “Indeed they are, after a fashion Mr. Wallace. I’ve heard of this once before, a German officer I had occasion to swap tales with told me how his Zeppelin had suffered a rear lightning strike and the voltage blasted to steam the skin doping in the latter part of his hull. The airship skin then became saturated adding to the weight. That is our problem I suspect gentleman, it would certainly explain Mr D’Arcey's unfortunate experience earlier.”