Under Gornstock

by Clive Mullis

  ‘Nooo!’ Phimp screamed as he saw the drill disappear back from whence it came with the rope still attached, yanking the secretary off his legs and pulling him up towards the roof.

  ‘Whhooooaaaah!’ screamed Phimp as he began to spin like a top, going faster and faster as his body tried to catch up with the speed of the drill. Spinning and whirling he rose quickly, his face pulled in all sorts of directions as the centrifugal force distorted his features. He gave another wail as his feet and legs disappeared into the hole with the water now coming in like a torrent, cascading around his torso and pouring onto the floor. Realising what his immediate future held for him and it wasn’t going to be a long one, he cried out in despair. ‘Heeeelllllppppp!’ he screamed as his waist went in, quickly followed by his torso. ‘Pleeeeaaasseeee—’ and then his head, the final yell of anguish abruptly cut off, leaving just his arms whirling until they too disappeared from sight.

  Rose winced.

  Dwarfs quickly rushed up with sheets of metal and a few props, desperate to stem the flow of water rushing in. They had just seconds before the whole of the roof collapsed under the pressure; the body of Phimp had enlarged the hole and it now seemed as if the whole of the Sterkle wanted to drop in. Water poured in as Trugral and the dwarfs placed the ladders and pushed the sheets against the roof, trying to slide them into position, desperate to stop the flow before it came too much; but they were fighting a losing battle. The floor of the tunnel had now turned into a second river and Rose and Cornwallis watched helplessly as the torrent grabbed Fluffy and pulled him away, tossing and rolling him in the current.

  Rose spluttered and reached out a hand to Cornwallis who grabbed it and held on tight. They managed a look and turned to see Frankie amidst the dwarfs, helping to slam the sheets to the roof. Water washed around them and they fought the flow as they tried to scramble to their feet, desperate to help Frankie and the dwarfs as hope trickled away.

  Chapter 43

  ‘I’d swear that ship’s moved a couple of times,’ said Felicity as she stood in the little wheel-house of the sight-seeing boat.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ agreed Tiffany, gripping the wheel as the boat began to move. ‘It’s going across the river in a line. I think it’s to do with the anchors: it’s got one at the front and another at the back. Fore and aft, they call it. I think they’re pulling through a capstan, which is a big wheel thing in the ship which they use to raise and lower the anchors.’

  Felicity looked at her friend in awe. ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘An unconventional upbringing: Daddy likes his ships so he took us on a few when I was young and I remember watching the sailors as they worked. It’s amazing what you can pick up when you’re young. Look, there’s a boat at each of the anchor points and they’re raising the anchors then pulling them into the boats, then they row forward a bit, dropping them further away. Then they turn the capstan which pulls the ship along in a set line. Kedging, I think they call it.’

  ‘Kedging? What’s that?’ asked MacGillicudy, appearing on the steps behind.

  Tiffany went into the explanation again as all three studied the ship they were heading for.

  ‘Why are they doing that?’ asked the commander.

  Tiffany shook her head. ‘I don’t know but there’s definitely a reason; it’s a lot of hard work.’

  ‘Whatever it’s for, it seems that they’re doing it, so I reckon we’ve got to stop them doing it.’

  Tiffany and Felicity nodded solemnly.

  ‘I wonder what’s happening in the dwarf tunnels?’ mused Tiffany.

  ‘I think we all want to know that, but let’s do what Jack asked of us and we’ll worry about that after; one thing at a time, eh?’

  Below, Dewdrop had found that encouraging the bears had been fairly easy, but he just hoped that Mr Cornwallis wouldn’t mind too much when he had to fork out triple pay, he was nearly sure he would understand the urgency of the situation.

  With no passengers, the one remaining crewman was at a loss as to what to do, so just stood there, watching the river as they paddled slowly to their destination. Dewdrop climbed out of the hatch which covered the steps to below and came over to stand with him.

  ‘Do you know anything about that ship?’ asked Dewdrop.

  The crewman raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean by anything?’

  ‘Anything at all, really.’

  The crewman sighed. ‘Well, it’s been ‘ere a couple of weeks or so. Bit of a pain in the arse really, as it sits bang in the middle of where we normally go. Nosher tried to argue with the Ship Masters Guild and the harbour master but they’re like that.’ He held up two crossed fingers. ‘Told Nosher where to go, they did.’

  ‘We’ve got to stop them doing what they’re doing. Do you want to help?’

  ‘What they doing, then?’

  Dewdrop turned his head towards him. ‘Er… we don’t really know for sure, but we think they’re drilling; we’ve got to stop them so there might be a bit of a ruck.’

  ‘Really?’ replied the crewman, his interest piqued.

  ‘Yeah, might be a bit of cash in it too, if you help, that is.’ Dewdrop thought that Cornwallis, being rich enough, wouldn’t miss another few dollars.

  ‘Might do, at that. I’ll give it a think.’

  ‘You’d better think quick, we’re nearly there as it is.’

  ‘I’ve thunk. I could do wiv a bit extra.’

  Dewdrop smiled, they could always welcome another pair of hands in a scrap.

  ‘How do you slow the thing?’ asked MacGillicudy, shouting down, as they neared the ship.

  The crewman looked up. ‘Ring the bell, the red handle on the left, then yell down that tube thing.’

  MacGillicudy’s head bobbed back into the wheelhouse and then the sound of a tinkling bell came up from below.

  ‘Slow down,’ yelled Tiffany into the speaking tube.

  The ship, looming large, blotted out the view. The two crews on the rowboats at the two anchors looked on in confusion as the sight-seeing boat came alongside. It bumped and Tiffany pulled the bell then yelled down the tube to get it to stop.

  The top of the wheelhouse came level with the rail at the waist of the ship and MacGillicudy yelled down for a rope to tie the two together. The crewman sprinted forward, grabbed a rope end and passed it up to the commander.

  ‘Keep it there, Tiffany,’ shouted MacGillicudy as he leapt onto the ship.

  He quickly tied the rope and then the girls, Dewdrop and the crewman piled over.

  The deck was empty of crew.

  ‘C’mon,’ encouraged MacGillicudy, waving an arm. ‘We need to find them and stop them.’

  ‘Where do we go?’ asked Felicity urgently, looking around.

  ‘Down there,’ shouted Tiffany, pointing to the companionway.

  A lot of noise came up through the hatch, and it sounded very much like machinery. MacGillicudy went down first and surprised the man at the bottom of the ladder by immediately giving him a right-hander, not even bothering to ask a question first. The others tumbled down after him and spread out.

  ‘Over here,’ said Dewdrop as he ran over to an open door in the side of the ship.

  ‘That goes to that strange bit on the sides of the ship. There’s another one opposite,’ said Tiffany.

  ‘You look at that one, I’ll look at this one,’ said MacGillicudy running over.

  Inside were two men dragging buckets up through a hole and pouring the contents into a contraption that spun around making a grinding whirly sound, a bit like a wood-saw grinding against metal, they were oblivious at first to the presence of the interlopers.

  The two men then noticed they had company and looked at MacGillicudy in surprise, their brains trying to work out whether he should be there or not.

  The commander didn’t wait for them to form an opinion. ‘Hello buoys,’ he said with a wink.

  MacGillicudy grinned as he grabbed their heads and smacked them together, their prev
ious confusion now academic as they now had a serious concussion to worry about.

  ‘Tie them up,’ ordered the commander, throwing the two men out of the bit on the side, shaking his head in disappointment as the men missed his joke.

  ‘With what?’ asked Dewdrop.

  ‘We’re on a bloody ship, man!’

  ‘Aye aye, sir,’ replied Felicity, quickly casting a look at Dewdrop that might indicate a cutting off of supply for a day or two as she bent down and passed him the length of rope which lay practically beneath his feet. ‘That one’s empty,’ she added as she pointed over her shoulder to the other side of the ship.

  Without the supply of water, the contraption immediately began to smoke and the grinding noise turned into a clanking sound.

  ‘The power source must be down there,’ surmised Tiffany, pointing as she watched Dewdrop and the crewman collect the two men and the one the commander tapped, then tie them up to a pole that came up through the deck.

  ‘Mast,’ supplied the crewman when MacGillicudy voiced the question.

  ‘Oh,’ said the commander. ‘Right, downstairs now,’ he added, grinning at the prospect of dealing out a bit more instant justice.

  ‘Below,’ said the exasperated crewman. ‘We go below, not downstairs.’

  ‘Then that is what we shall do, go below downstairs.’

  They did.

  The din increased enormously with the individual sounds merging into a cacophony of noise all wrapped up in one. Seven men stood around, supervising bears and a gorilla as they pushed, pulled, spun, twisted and tweaked all different types of pulleys, wheels and levers, all connecting to other pulleys and wheels in what looked like one massive mill-like machine connecting through a gap to the bit on the side.

  ‘Police,’ yelled MacGillicudy at the top of his voice. He held up his hand. ‘Stop what you’re doing, now!’

  ‘What’s this?’ a grizzled looking man spun around, noticing them for the first time. He took a step forward holding what looked like a cosh which he smacked against the palm of his other hand in threat.

  MacGillicudy grinned as he pulled his truncheon out of the pocket of his trousers. ‘I did ask nicely,’ he said as he brought it down hard on the man’s shoulder, disarming him in short order, following up with a severe prod into the stomach and then by a knee into the nose.

  The machine continued grinding as the rest of the men stood shocked for a nanosecond and then all hell broke loose.

  One advanced on Tiffany who stood her ground and waited as the man charged towards her, swinging a lever in his hand, she side-stepped and swung her locked hands hard onto his back, increasing his momentum, his head charging into a solid capstan bar. He stood up shaking his head and turned, only to have the toe-end of a boot connect to the soft area between his legs; he folded, vomited, and then clutched hold of the rapidly swelling articles, moaning softly.

  Felicity faced an unarmed man, but she jabbed a straight arm into the nose then followed up with an elbow into the ribs then stuck two fingers up his nose and wrenched him back before smashing his head against the mast.

  The crewman was enjoying himself enormously; he had his opponent in a head-lock, and with the free hand, punched the face to pulp.

  Dewdrop lashed out with a lump of wood, which he would later learn was called a belaying pin, with his back to his commander who did likewise with his truncheon, both of them smacking, jabbing and sending crunching blows to any part of their opponents’ bodies which presented.

  The six animals looked on, straining against the chains that tethered them to their work stations, eager to get at their captors as the fight progressed, their faces a rictus of anger, their voices bellowing encouragement to those who looked to be saving them.

  Puffing and panting, the feelers and the crewman stood on the deck of the ship with seven men lying groaning on the floor. They looked around, waiting for more of the crew to arrive but it soon became apparent that there were no more to come.

  Slowly, the animals began to settle and the rattling of the chains diminished quickly as the commander acknowledged the victory with a nod.

  ‘Tie them to that thing,’ ordered MacGillicudy, pointing with his truncheon.

  ‘Capstan,’ sighed the crewman.

  The commander ignored the crewman and walked over to a relieved and expectant bear. ‘How do you stop this thing?’ he asked, trying to sound authoritative despite his wheezing.

  The bear looked over at a gorilla who then pushed a lever then pulled a handle and then spun a cog. All the animals waited, looking keenly at the commander to see what was going to happen next.

  ‘What now?’ asked the commander as the din subsided.

  ‘What do you want?’ replied the bear, grinning.

  ‘Pull the drill up.’

  The bear started spinning a wheel and the contraption grumbled as the top end of a large metal spike began to emerge, another bear spun a fly-wheel which corresponded with the revolutions on the drill, which then started to slow down. The gorilla unclipped a bit of the drill and stored it behind him and then pulled on a lever as the bear spun the fly-wheel again, raising the drill up a bit more, then another slowing down and another unclipping.

  ‘It’s in sections,’ said Tiffany. ‘You add bits as it goes deeper, but it’s getting very noisy now.’

  The bear nodded. ‘No lubrication: they pour water onto it from up there to keep it cool and help with the friction.’

  Felicity looked at the chains securing the bears and gorilla with a frown of concern. ‘How do we release you,’ she asked stepping forward and testing the links.

  ‘That one there has the key,’ said the bear, a metallic rattle emphasising the pointed finger.

  ‘But you’re bigger and stronger than them, those chains wouldn’t hold for long. You could have broken them and taken over.’

  The bear shook his head. ‘This is only half of us. The rest are in the hold. They only work half of us at a time; we kick off up here and those down there are history.’

  ‘But that’s terrible,’ said Tiffany, a look of angst on her face.

  MacGillicudy nodded, he’d heard it all before: a remnant of how the old Morris worked; divide and rule. ‘You mean there are more men down there?’

  ‘Just one,’ replied the bear, ‘With a crossbow; the rest are in the rowing boats out there.’

  ‘Toopins,’ ordered MacGillicudy. ‘Would you inform the gentleman down there that he had better put down the weapon and get up here.’

  ‘We can do that,’ said the bear. ‘We would really like to do that.’

  The commander retrieved the key and unlocked the chains.

  ‘Very kind,’ said the bear, rubbing his arms and legs as the gorilla and another bear quickly and with some eagerness, disappeared below.

  ‘What about those rowboats?’ asked Felicity.

  ‘Don’t worry about them,’ said the bear. ‘I have a feeling we are going to enjoy pulling them in.’

  ‘What about the drill?’ asked Tiffany.

  The bear sniffed. ‘It’s clear now, not drilling into anything at all, see, it’s stopped.’

  ‘What’s that bit of rope do on that bit of the drill,’ asked Dewdrop, peering in.

  The bear shrugged. ‘No idea: must have got caught on something.’

  Chapter 44

  ‘So, we just wait?’ asked the earl, after the initial panic over the explosion had dissipated with the knowledge that everyone was still alive.

  ‘Yes,’ replied the Bagman.

  ‘But what about the threat of water?’

  ‘Hopefully, your son has stopped that, which I suspect he has, otherwise we might be a bit damp by now and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’

  ‘I’m still worried about young Mr Cornwallis,’ said Maud, a frown of concern on her face. ‘And Rose, and Frankie, and all those others who went to help.’

  The earl patted her hand and smiled grimly. ‘Yes, me too, Maud, but they know what they’r
e doing, and, as Mr Hawk here says, it would probably have already happened. Let’s try and be positive.’

  ‘But we’re all trapped in here.’

  ‘Not for long,’ replied the Bagman. ‘Ah, I do believe I can hear something now.’

  They all looked up to where the rubble blocked the entrance to the tunnel where a tick-tick noise, indicative of a dwarf using a pick, came through the rocks.

  ‘That’ll be Goodhalgan, I should imagine.’

  The earl looked askance at the Bagman.

  ‘You did wonder where he went; surely? I had a little conversation with him so he absented himself.’

  ‘You warned him?’

  ‘Of course, strangely, he believed me. I thought it might be better to have some dwarfs outside digging in. Those working The Pipe might not realise that something had happened.’

  ‘What about Brooksturner and his friends?’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about them. I suspect they’re already considering the folly of their ways. I had some gentlemen of mine there too, ready for, er… any eventuality.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say?’

  ‘I just did.’

  The earl opened his mouth to berate the Bagman and then closed it again when he realised he was talking to the Bagman.

  A little later, a hole appeared in the rubble and a dwarf’s head poked through like a hairy lump of rock. He looked about then eased himself out then stood at the top of the steps and regarded everyone below. Satisfied with what he saw, he shoved his head back in the hole and crawled back through. Shortly, another head appeared and this one belonged to Goodhalgan, King of the Dwarfs.

  Goodhalgan stood at the top of the steps and held up his hands as everyone started talking at once.

  ‘Please, please, ladies and gentlemen. You may have noticed that we’ve had a minor inconvenience, but I’m pleased to say that we have dealt with it now. Up there, The Pipe is already carrying passengers and from now on, it will only cost you half a dollar to take a trip; but for now, please finish your food and drinks. Oh, you have. Never mind, we’ll get this lot cleared in a few minutes and you can go up and take another trip on The Pipe. I hope you’ve all enjoyed your time here with us, and don’t forget to tell your friends. The Pipe is the future, ladies and gentlemen.’