by Karen Garvin
Finally, Edward left the building carrying his single bag and stopped in the middle of the street to look around. There wasn’t any traffic here on Seacombe Island, so he had no worries about being run over by a cab or having to deal with throngs of pedestrians. Seacombe was too quiet, in a way, but for the last few months it had been home and he’d gotten used to it.
He went to the dock and found the small boat still tethered to the pier. The sailor was sitting in the bow, his arms crossed and his legs propped up on the gunwales, but he scrambled to his feet when he saw Edward. After handing his personal luggage aboard, Edward went to the laboratory to say his farewells.
The ship sailed the next morning as soon as the work crew had finished loading the last crate of Hekate fuel aboard. The weather had turned cold overnight, and rather than spend time out on deck, Edward went below to his cabin to get out of the wind. He shrugged off his coat and as soon as he hung it up there was a knock at the door. Edward tugged down his sleeves to cover his wrists and as much of his hands as he could before he opened the door. Samuel was standing in the narrow corridor, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Uncle, are you well?”
“Yes, I’m fine, Samuel. Come in.” Edward swung the door wide and hastily slid his hands into his pockets.
“You’ve been avoiding me all morning, Uncle.”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve been busy getting the supplies loaded.”
“That’s not what it seems like,” protested Samuel, sitting down. “You don’t look well.”
“I’ve been working long hours, Samuel. Meade’s demand for so much fuel meant that I needed to help out in the lab. I’m not used to being on my feet so long.” Edward punctuated his words by flopping down on the narrow bunk. He grimaced and poked at the mattress. “They could do with a bit more padding.”
Samuel chuckled. “You’ll get used to it, don’t worry. If you’re tired enough you’ll sleep.”
“No doubt,” grumbled Edward. Belatedly he clasped his hands out of sight.
Samuel’s eyebrows rose. “What’s wrong with your hands?”
“Nothing. A simple rash.”
“Have you seen the doctor about it?”
“Stop worrying, Samuel. You’re worse than an old hen. It’s already clearing up. Now let’s talk about you.”
They spent the morning catching up, and wandered out on deck for some fresh air before lunch. Then Edward went to check on the crates of Hekatite and Samuel went off to find Meade.
* * *
They arrived at the London docks on a cold and rainy afternoon. Meade had one of the sailors fetch a cab and went off on some government business, leaving Edward and Samuel to take care of the details of loading the Hekatite onto a cart and getting the fuel out to the farm where the airship was being kept. It took much longer to get the load secured than Edward wanted, and by the time they left the docks he was in a foul mood. The pain returned to his hands and he kneaded them together without thinking.
“I thought you told me the rash was gone.” Samuel, sitting next to his uncle in the back of the wagon, leaned over for a closer look.
“It is.” Edward held out his arms, showing Samuel his hands. His skin was clear and all signs of the rash had faded away. “And about bloody time, too,” said Edward.
Samuel scowled, but he remained silent. The horses moved slowly and the wagon creaked over the pavement. In another hour they were out of town and heading toward open farmland. Samuel slipped down and pulled his coat shut, closing his eyes.
Edward was in too much pain to relax, and the Hekatite shipment was far too valuable for him to be caught napping. At times like this he envied Samuel, who seemed to be able to sleep anywhere and at any time of day. Edward shifted and inadvertently dislodged the canvas covering the wooden crates. A trickle of cold water ran down the side of the canvas and soaked into his shoe, making him jerk back his leg.
Beside him, Samuel stirred. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing. Rain. Go back to sleep.”
“Hmm.” Sam pulled his cap tighter on his head and dozed.
Edward maintained his vigil until they reached the farm. By then it was just getting dark and he could make out the shapes of the farmhouse and barn. Candles burned in a few of the house’s windows on the first floor, their warmth inviting.
But they rolled past the house. As they neared the barn, the driver hauled on the reins and called to his horses. The wagon groaned to a halt, and before Edward could manage to get to his feet, Samuel had vaulted over the wagon’s rear gate and was opening the barn door. The driver clucked to his team and expertly guided the wagon into the barn.
Edward rubbed his eyes. The inside of the barn was dim, but not entirely dark. Several lanterns were hung on posts and two men were idling about. One was a thickset man with close-cropped black hair. He took hold of the reins and unharnessed the horses while the other man helped Edward from the wagon.
“I’m Charlie,” the man said, tapping his chest with his thumb. “Professor Meade is up at the farmhouse. He says for you to meet him there as soon as you arrive. Morris and me will get the horses taken care of, and don’t you worry about this here wagon.”
Edward was not keen on leaving the Hekatite with these two men, but when it became apparent that Samuel knew both of them he gave in and squelched his way up to the farmhouse. The rain had stopped, but by the time he reached the front door his shoes were coated with mud. He scraped the worst of it off on the boot cleaner and went inside.
Meade was already seated at the small dining room table set against the wall. He waved Edward to a chair, and soon a girl of about fifteen appeared from the kitchen with a plate heaped with food.
“Eat up, Mr. Gray. Tomorrow we set out for the starting point of the race.”
Samuel came in a few minutes later and took the last seat. The girl reappeared with another plate, and Meade waited for her to leave before he spoke again.
“The men you met in the barn will load the Hekatite onto the airship tomorrow,” said Meade. “I want you to oversee what they do and make sure the job is done correctly.”
“I don’t know anything about airships,” grumbled Edward. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”
“You’re here because you are the one most familiar with handling the Hekatite, other than the scientists,” said Meade. “None of the researchers could be spared from Seacombe. We need them to continue producing the refined fuel, and that left you as the candidate for expert-in-residence.”
Edward chewed his food thoughtfully and tried to ignore the grin on Samuel’s face. No doubt Samuel was looking forward to the race, but the thought of having both feet off the ground made Edward a bit nervous.
“There are rooms prepared for us here,” said Meade. “Get a good night’s rest and we’ll have breakfast before we leave.”
They finished the simple meal and the girl came back to fetch their empty plates. Edward watched her disappear into the kitchen and sat listlessly scratching at his hands. He saw Samuel watching and clasped his hands together, trying to ignore the burning sensation that ran along his forearm. There was no pattern to the flare-ups and nothing seemed to make them go away except time.
Meade caught Samuel’s worried glance. “Is anything wrong, Mr. Gray?”
“I’m tired,” said Edward, shooting a dark look at Samuel that dared him to disagree.
“Then I’ll have Mira show you to your room.”
Meade called for the girl, and she escorted Edward up the stairs while Samuel remained at the table, discussing something about the airship’s new radio equipment with Meade. Samuel had tried to explain it to Edward, but he still didn’t understand how it worked. It was enough that his nephew had a job and seemed to enjoy doing it well.
Mira settled Edward into one of the two bedrooms along the back of the house. His luggage had already been brought up and a blue-and-white ceramic washbasin and towel had been set out on the dresser. Edward eyed the bed with it
s plump pillows and wasted little time getting settled down for the night. The burning in his hands had faded away and he relaxed, grateful for the relief, and soon fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
Edward woke in the morning to the smell of bacon and coffee. He dressed and went downstairs to find Meade sitting at the table, looking as though he hadn’t moved all night. They ate breakfast in near silence and afterwards went out to the barn, where Charlie and Morris were waiting beside the wagon. The canvas was still tied securely over the crates and the horses had been hitched to the wagon. One pawed at the ground impatiently, and Morris stroked the animal’s neck to quiet it.
Meade left Edward with the Hekatite and went back outside. The two men backed the wagon out of the barn while Edward stood off to the side and watched. Once outside they turned toward the open field. Last night had been foggy and Edward hadn’t been able to see anything past the barn and house, but now the morning sun shone bright and the air was crisp and clear.
In the center of the field, a tall wooden tower had been constructed. Stairs wound around the square sides, short flights separated by landings at closely spaced intervals. Sturdy railings with thick posts gave the stairs the appearance of railroad tracks. Edward wondered about the construction until he spotted men carrying boxes up the stairs and realized it was designed to make hauling cargo up as easy as possible.
He allowed his eyes to follow one of the tower’s beams, rising and rising into the sky. Edward couldn’t judge how tall it was, but at the apex was what appeared to be a small box, and on top of that was a thin, tall mast. Tethered to the mast was the airship, the H.M.A. Nares.
Edward tilted his head back and gasped. It was huge. Meade had never described the airship and Edward had envisioned something like a balloon with a large wicker gondola. He had seen balloons before, but this was something else. He struggled to make sense of its size, and only just snapped his mouth closed before he would have drooled on his shirt. No need to make a fool of himself.
The airship’s body was formed of a huge cylinder that was nearly as long as the field. Affixed to the bottom of the cylinder was the gondola, a rectangular building that resembled a train car. It was painted red and black, and was lined on both sides by small rectangular windows. At the front was a larger window that ran nearly the width of the gondola. A wooden platform spanned the gap from the building at the top of the tower and the gondola, and Edward could see men carrying cargo across to the airship. He shivered, realizing that any stiff wind might easily blow them off the platform.
“What do you think?” said Samuel, appearing at Edward’s elbow. “Isn’t she grand?”
“It … it’s bigger than I thought it would be.”
“Just you wait until we get up there. It’s much larger than it seems from the ground.”
“Are we going to have to climb up that?” Edward pointed to the tower. The wood looked warm in the early morning sunlight and he stared up at the top, momentarily so caught up in the grandness of the scene that he forgot to be afraid.
“Yes, Uncle, I’m afraid we are.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” Edward sighed, then managed to look a bit embarrassed. “Does it have, that is…”
“What, Uncle?”
“Well, you know, what do we do when…” Edward let his voice trail off. He wasn’t usually embarrassed to ask questions, and being embarrassed made him feel ridiculous. He felt his ears grow hot.
Samuel raised an eyebrow, and then his eyes lit up and he began to laugh.
“It’s not funny!”
“Uncle! If you’re asking whether the ship has a water closet, the answer is yes. It has several. It’s very much like a nice hotel, only it flies.”
“Oh.” Edward rubbed the back of his head and glanced up at the ship again. “Very well. When do we leave?”
“As soon as the men finish loading the ship. We can go aboard any time, though.” Samuel took a step toward the tower, looking back over his shoulder at Edward. “It’s a lot of climbing, so you may want to take your time.”
Edward let out his breath in a noisy sigh and followed his nephew. They climbed four flights of stairs and rested, flattening their bodies to the wall of the tower so the men carrying boxes could get past. After ten flights Edward’s head was pounding and his lungs were on fire. He stopped and leaned against the wall.
Samuel eyed him suspiciously. “All right?”
“I will be,” panted Edward. “I’m not used to this many stairs.” He straightened and started up the next flight of stairs, slowing his pace and pausing at the top before starting on the next.
When they reached the level of the platform, Edward saw that there was rope netting strung along both sides of the walkway. It might work for safety, but being able to see the ground made him feel queasy. Samuel strode across and Edward hurried along, wanting to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible.
He stepped down from the platform into the gondola. It was plainly furnished inside. At the front window was a brass ship’s wheel and several control mechanisms consisting of gears and chains.
Samuel led Edward down a narrow corridor and entered a small cabin. Two bunks were bolted to one wall and a small shelf occupied the other.
“This is our room,” said Samuel. “There’s a small dining area, but we can take our meals in here, if you prefer.”
Edward looked around at the sparsely furnished room. It seemed comfortable enough, but he doubted that he would spend much time in the cabin.
Samuel took him on a tour of the rest of the ship, pointing out construction details and explaining some of the workings of the ship. When the tour was over, Edward went to supervise the loading of the Hekatite and made sure that it was properly stowed in the engineering compartment.
By early afternoon the ship was fully loaded. Meade arrived with some boxes of equipment and handed them off to an assistant. Finally, the captain came aboard. All crew members saluted as Captain Davies took the helm and started the ship’s engines. The tether was loosed and immediately the airship began to rise.
Edward, standing at one of the side windows in the main control room, hardly noticed the movement as he watched the tower slip down and out of sight. The ground spun slowly below as the ship came around and headed west toward Plymouth, the starting point for the race. The Nares would not reach her destination until after sundown, so Edward retired to the cabin to clean up and get some rest before dinner. Samuel had many duties to perform aboard the airship and Edward had seen little of him all afternoon.
They dined early, while the Nares was still en route. The race would begin tomorrow morning and the atmosphere aboard ship was electric. Even Edward was feeling the excitement. After dinner he didn’t want to return to the cabin with its tiny window, so he stayed in the control room and looked out the large front window of the gondola. As they approached Plymouth he could see three other airships, more or less lined up at what must be the starting point for the race. They drifted slightly with the wind but were far enough apart that there was no danger of them colliding.
Spain’s entry, the Bernardino, dwarfed the Nares. Edward stared at it with amazement, taking in the three-story gondola that was slung under the gas envelope. If Samuel had thought the Nares was like a hotel, then the Bernardino must be a luxury hotel. Lights burned in every window, creating crystal-sharp shadows that danced across the underside of the airship like shadow puppets.
Edward gazed out at the Bernardino until he grew tired of standing, and finally returned to his cabin. But sleep escaped him and he lay restlessly on the hard bunk, thinking of all the questions he should have asked Meade before agreeing to come along on the race.
The next morning dawned overcast, and when Edward peered out of his cabin window the other airships were almost invisible. The Bernardino bobbed slightly, a darker gray mass in the gray cloud cover. Edward dressed and headed for the control room, where Samuel was standing by the front window, watching the other s
hips through a pair of large binoculars. Professor Meade was examining gauges on the consoles, and gave no sign that he heard Edward come in to the room. Captain Davies was nowhere to be seen.
“Good morning, Uncle.” Samuel lowered the binoculars and turned away from the window. “Have you eaten yet?”
“I’m not sure that I’m hungry,” replied Edward. “And I don’t want to miss the start of the race.”
“We have time to eat. The race start time has been delayed because of the weather, and the captains are meeting with the race organizers now to decide on a new time. Come on, let’s get something from the kitchen. It’s going to be a long morning and you’ll need your energy.”
Edward furrowed his brow, pretending to be angry. “You don’t have to treat me like an old man, you know.”
“But Uncle…”
“Yes, yes, I know. I am an old man.”
Samuel laughed as they made their way to the dining room and sat down to a hearty breakfast. After they’d finished eating, Edward went to engineering to check in and see how things were progressing before he rejoined Samuel in the control room.
Captain Davies had returned from the meeting. His eyes blazed with excitement as he waited for everyone to settle down. The crew quieted and waited for Davies to speak, the room becoming eerily silent except for an occasional clank as steam expanded in the copper tubes that ran the length of the room.
“Good morning, men,” said Davies, folding his hands behind his back. “The new race start time has been set for one o’clock. That gives us four more hours to make sure the ship is ready.”
“But what if the weather doesn’t get any better?” asked one of the crew.
“No matter,” said Davies. “The race is on even if the clouds don’t clear up.”
Several of the men cheered, but others shifted from foot to foot and cast sidelong glances at each other.
“That’s taking a risk, isn’t it? If there’s …” Meade stopped when Davies made a small chopping motion with his hand.