by Giles
“When I see him Sir, I shall be sure to remind him.” Jerard parried. “I am somewhat new to his employ as Mr. Beardmore stated, and not fully familiar with Mr. Starblower’s business dealings.” Trying to get the conversation away from his novice status, Jerard added, “May I ask what brings you to Great Britain Mr. Rockefeller?”
“Why William’s new bird out there! With my holding expanding so, it would be a darn sight more convenient to fly to some of the new refineries, oil, and gas fields that we are looking over in Kansas and Oklahoma.”
“I can see how that would be most useful to you Sir, yes.”
“So lets be about it John.” William Beardmore interjected obviously keen to get back to the matter at hand. “Mr. Randal I trust you’ll see to Captain Phillips, needs for us?”
Jerard answered for him “Oh Fred and I are old acquaintances Mr. Beardmore, Sir. I was hoping to catch up with him after our business here was concluded. I trust I’m not keeping him from his regular duties.”
“No not at all Captain, please keep him with you as long as you like.”
“Your very kind Sir.” Jerard stepped aside as Haworth opened the door for the group of industrialists. As they left he eyed the still slightly abashed Fred Randal. “What exactly have you been up to you rogue?”
Fred’s sunny smile slowly returned. “How about I distract you with a cup of awful tea and tell you a believable lie about it Captain?”
Jerard felt his stomach rumble slightly as the man spoke. “Its a deal, but it will cost you a biscuit extra now.”
“Fair enough Sir.” Fred laughed as he in turn held the door for his old Captain.
Ignored, an seemingly content to be so. The receptionist resumed typing on the document she had been working on as the door closed behind them.
“There it is Captain,” Randall said pointing off to their right. “Our canteen, such as it is.”
“That huge building? I thought that was an airship hangar.”
Fred burst out laughing. “It is Sir, I was referring to the very small shack-like structure leaning against it’s side.”
Jerard opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Oh” he said faintly.
Fred elbowed him in the ribs. “Always the gentleman, Captain. If ya can’t say anythin’ good don’t say anythin’ at all. Come on then, can’t say you weren’t warned! Forward then! To a lackluster experience.”
Jerard could not resist Fred’s optimism and good humor so he kept step with the red-headed rogue as they tromped across the airfield. He was just hoping that what ever “lackluster experience” he was in for stopped the embarrassing growling of his stomach.
Just as they reached the entrance to the canteen as it were, Jerard realized they were being hailed. He turned to see Miss Smythe-Harris waving and striding purposefully toward them. A rather curious entourage was tagging along behind her.
“Captain Phillips! Oh Captain Phillips! Hold up please!” Tash shouted as she broke into a trot.
“I say! Who’s the lovely filly, old man?” Fred quipped.
Jerard turned a shocked expression on his friend and then cleared his throat. “That Mr. Randal, is my employer, or rather my employer’s representative. I trust you will exhibit some respect Sir!
Fred straightened up and executed a smart salute. “Aye Captain!” The whole affect was ruined by the huge grin that spread across his face. “I think Sir, that we should go to meet this fine figure of a lady.”
“Can you ever be serious?” Jerard muttered as he walked briskly towards Tash.
“Oh Captain! I’m so glad I caught you!” Tash said a bit breathlessly. She turned a charming smile and a small curtsy on Fred Randal. “You must be Mr. Randal! I am so very pleased to meet you Sir.
Fred Randal bowed graciously. “The honor this day is all mine madam. Jerard here has just enlightened me as to the fact that you are his boss. Ah, but he failed horribly in not mentioning how lovely you are! What a lucky man our Jerard is!”
Tash raised an eyebrow at the young man, otherwise her face was as unreadable as a stone.
“Put your foot in it again, I see Mr. Randal!” Will Beardmore (the junion) said, wearing a rather uncharacteristic grin as he stepped up beside Tash. It was only moments before his wife Constance and Mr. Pruette completed the party.
“Sir?” Randal inquired politely.
“I think what Mr. Beardmore is trying to convey Sir, is that your comment might be a bit inappropriate in this situation.” Tash said trying very hard not to smile and failing. She was gratified to see the confusion moving across moving across Phillips’ and Randal’s faces. Taking pity she continued. “I would like to offer you a position aboard the Soul of Discretion as her navigator, Mr. Randal.”
Jerard and Fred both blurted out the word “What?” at the same time. Their shocked expressions were just too much for Tash and she burst out laughing. A second later her laughter was joined by Will, Constance and Archibald Pruette.
It was Fredrick Randal who recovered first. He bowed low and then raised dancing brown eyes up to meet Tash’s blue. “Madam, there is nothing I would like better than to join the distinguished crew of the Discretion. However, I am currently employed by Mr. Beardmore here and it would be impolitic as well as impolite to accept your offer with out consulting him first.
“Why Mr. Randal!” Beardmore exclaimed. “You do have manners!”
Fred actually blushed.
“Captain Phillips. I do hope you will forgive me. I do not normally interfere with the crew of the Discretion, I do Sir, consider her operation and crew entirely your bailiwick. My offer of a position to Mr. Randal is of course contingent upon your approval. I only interfered on this occasion as time is critical to our mission. As you know Sir, Mr. Pruette has tendered his resignation and it is our good fortune that Mr. Randal is available immediately. Not to mention Sir, that you have worked with Mr. Randal before and have already built a rapport.”
Tash stopped speaking as she realized a nearly pleading note had entered her speech. The truth was this would solve a lot of problems if Phillips accepted but she did honestly feel that in the long run it was Phillips decision to make. She silently cursed herself for getting so excited over her clever solution to so many problems. When would she ever learn a modicum of patience?
Jerard shifted uncomfortably. “Thank you for your consideration Madam,” he began, realizing that Miss Smythe-Harris was truly apologizing for stepping on his toes. “I would be generally agreeable to Mr. Randal joining us, however..” Phillips sought Archibald Pruette’s eye in the group. “But Mr Pruette here recently gave me his pledge of support for the duration of this mission. How does this idea sit with you Mr. Pruette? Your dedication is beyond question are you able to trust Mr. Randal’s handling of the Discretion without your presence? The welfare of the ship and the mission is the important thing here, personal considerations must take a back seat to the business at hand.”
Archibald Pruette stepped forward and to the surprise of everyone clasped Phillips about the shoulders warmly. “That’s just what Daniel used to say Captain. The job needs to be done and done well. If this is your focus, then I think the Discretion is in good hands with you Sir. I trust your judgment.” Pruette stepped back with a final nod.
“Well then, Mr. Pruette, how about we excuse ourselves and get Mr. Randal comfortable with the Discretion?”
“Well there is one more thing Captain Phillips.” Fred said, his tone very serious.
Everyone turned to look at Fredrick Randal.
“I think I should actually accept Miss Smythe-Harris’ kind offer first, yes?
“You already did Mr. Randal, you already did.” Tash smiled. “Now onto our next problem, Constance what ever should we wear to tonight’s soiree? She clasp Constance’s arm and steered her away from the men.
Fred opened his mouth to speak but Jerard shook his head. “Don’t worry about it old chap, you’ll get used to it.”
“Really?” Asked Beardmo
re. “I haven’t.”
“Really.” Said Phillips and Pruette at the same time.
Afternoon 11th June
A Gentleman’s Club
Edinburgh Scotland
The gentleman entered the lobby of club and blinked several times trying to adjust his eyes from the bright sunlight of the outdoors to the dim but luxurious interior. He nearly flinched to find the doorman still at his elbow.
“Beg Pardon Sir. An urgent telegram has arrived for you. Where will you take it?”
Succeeding in masking his surprise he answered the man in a bored tone. “The lounge if you would and I require a small brandy.”
“Very good Sir.” The doorman bowed and made haste toward the rear door of the lobby.
The gentleman seated himself and picked up the newspaper he had already read. He was not expecting a communication today and found he was feeling mild excitement. The doorman placed a silver tray containing the envelope and the requested brandy on the small table beside his chair. He ignored it for several minutes before casually picking up the missive and reading.
Marquise.
Jade passed this to me in all haste yesterday. I stand by to relay any reply.
Serpentine.
-----
We are underway already. Bulldogs going after your Fishing trip as expected. Not expected was the courier being asked to actually assist them as far as the Herring Market. If this changes things for you and Garnet please advise where we should meet up?
Jade
PS Met an old friend of yours, the chap you met last March.
Marquise crumpled the note into the wastebasket at his feet, then started to his feet abruptly. A few vaguely curious eyes observed him from over the tops of their newspapers and books at his indecorous disturbing of the reading rooms tranquil atmosphere. Concealing his contempt for the men around him he feigned a yawn and stretch, while he thought furiously.
Confound it! Things were happening faster than he had planned, now he would have to move fast to keep the scheduled rendezvous. What he needed now was a distraction to get back ahead of his opposition. A thought occurred how to do it and he smiled. Looking about at the genteel surroundings he allowed himself a small sigh of regret. It was time to move on from this delightful haven. He had places to be and people to meet it seemed. Jades comment about an old acquaintance was troubling, who on earth could he mean? The shopkeepers presence he had allowed for, though not quite so swiftly, but that was always likely in the end. The Bulldogs tended to be slow but tenacious, a fact he was planning to use to their detriment in the long run.
“Call me a cab at once!” his harsh tone snapped out to the waiting footman. More disapproving looks were sent his way, but he ignored them. It was time to call in a favor or two, and swiftly.
Evening of the 11th June
Stonehaven
Eastern Scotland
The crisp air carried the tang of salt from the sea to the small group assembled at the fishing villages quayside.
“Sir?” queried one of his aides. “The captain says he is ready to depart, the evening tide is about to turn.”
The gentleman looked up from his hurried notes. So much careful planning and now there was no time! It was infuriating, he was not one to be hurried, other people hurried to his tune not he, but this time he had no choice and it irked him mightily. “Very well” was all he said as he looked down at the last letter to his other traveling companions for a while...
Jade,
I got your note, which old friend did you meet? I realize communications are going to be much harder now with you in your new position and myself and Garnet both out sailing the seas! “Ruby” joined Garnet as planned. He did need some laudanum for his stomach. Some folks dislike the motion of the waves. I shall meet with them and yourself later than planned. I am going to see Gold, perhaps we should all share a drink there.
Sending this via Serpentine in London, he shall remain our relay given our new situations..
Be patient.
Marquise
The coded words were deeply buried but even if “Jade” missed them “Alabaster” would not. Until such time as they were all together again Marquise disciplined himself to think of his subordinates only by their assigned code names. A slip at the wrong moment in the spoken or written word could lead to his audacious scheme unraveling. He would not allow such a slip.
Folding the message in half Marquise handed the note to the waiting courier. “Send it at the soonest opportunity!” he commanded.
With a simple nod the Scotsman took the proffered note and let his half bow hide his grimace of contempt for the foreign devil ordering him about like a serf.
Dismissing the man, Marquise strode off to the waiting docks. It was ignominious to be ousted from his comfortable retreat in Edinburgh. But Jades note had left him little choice. The Amerie was already on its way with his missive to “Gold”. With just a trifle of luck this unexpected hastening of his plans might work to his further advantage.
Stroking his mustache he smiled cruelly. To such advantage if he could but capitalize upon it! He would give them their desire and in such a way that left no option but to exalt him further in the ranks - or be shamed by subsequent events. Yes the Marshal would be most pleased, right up until he also realized that he was exactly where Marquise wanted him to be as well.
He and his companions would race ahead to the rendezvous, provided the Amerie did her part. And then, he would play the British like a fish on a line.
Chapter Three
12th of June 1870
6:30 am
Discretion’s Bridge
Inchinnan Base Scotland
Jerard was studying the airship logs in his cabin. He had just reached up to switch off the lamp, realizing that the dawn light streaming through the port window was enough to read by when Mr. Jones’ voice crackled over the speaking grill.
“Ground crew reports fueling complete Captain.”
Jerard fumbled for the “acknowledge button” by the grill. He was still not confidant enough to use the contraption in its talking mode. This was all that they had been waiting for he thought as he reviewed his mental check-list. All of the repairs had been completed last evening along with the loading of stores and extra parts. He and Nichols had reviewed the duty rosters an hour ago when he had also been informed that Miss Smythe-Harris and Colonel Carstares were tucked safely in their beds. Time to go he thought.
Jerard dropped the red cloth bookmark into the ship’s log to mark his place then carefully replaced the volume in the cabinet of his small writing desk. Getting up he retrieved his new hat from the back of the door and strode out into the central corridor and headed for the bridge.
The new cap fit perfectly and not for the first time he wondered at Smythe-Harris’ efficiency. To his great surprise and delight an entourage of tailors and seamstresses had arrived at his cabin last night as he was dressing for dinner. They brought with them five ship’s uniforms, complete with shirts and ties, hats and shoes in various sizes. Well no, that’s not right he thought, only the shoes were in different sizes. The tailors began taking their measurements, making little notes and smiling all the wile. When Jerard had asked them what was so amusing they had told him that Miss Smythe-Harris had guessed as to his measurements. She had been correct down to a quarter of an inch and the tailors were pleased that the adjustments to the uniforms would take less than half an hour. She had been less sure about the shoes. Therefore she had the group bring one pair smaller and one pair larger than her estimate. Of course her original estimation had been spot on. Even the bracers were perfect and needed no adjustment. As Jerard pulled back the separating curtain to enter the bridge another though occurred to him. She must have spent a great deal of time looking at him in order to estimate his measurements that closely. Jerard was not even aware of the happy smile that lit his face as this thought occurred.
The crew were already there standing by as he strode into the control gondola.
Seeing Fred hunched over the chart desk made him smile for a second as he took his place in the captain’s chair. “All right gentlemen this is it, let’s take her up by the numbers!” He declared. “Mr. D'Arcey?”
“Oui Captain, ballast reads level, fuel at 100%, gas pressure green on all cells. Starting engines now Sir,” the Frenchman rapped out as he toggled a control on his board. For a single second nothing happened, then a low throbbing began to gently vibrate the ship as the main Wolsey engines sprang to life.
“Signal the ground crews to stand clear.” Phillips said.
Jones engaged a switch on his panel and a series of amber lights began to pulse around the ship’s lateral line. Glancing out of the windows Phillips could see Beardmore’s ground crews releasing the guy ropes from the concrete bollards set around the docking tower. When the last rope was hanging limp Jerard added, “Signal the tower we are good to cast off.”
“Inchinnan tower we are ready to release.” Jones pronounced slowly and clearly into the speaking grill as he moved the signal switches to green. Up on the steel docking tower a ground crewman responded by unclasping the Discretion's primary mooring hawser. As the rope fell limp the ship stirred slightly, once again she was free of mother earth.
“Engage rotors Mr. D’Arcey. Mr. Wallace you have control, bring us about 15 degrees then take us up at your discretion.” Phillips ordered, feeling the great ship come alive under him.
Little jets of steam vented into the Scottish air as the as the winching motors wound the guy lines home. The sight fascinated Jerard; so much aboard this wonderful craft was automated. Truly she was a miracle of the air he mused. Jerard sat back as Mr. Wallace angled the bow of the graceful ship upwards and rang for one quarter power. Slowly the props took the ascending ship up to about 12 knots against the gentle headwind.
“Take us up to a thousand feet if you please, Mr. Wallace.” Phillips said as he vacated the comfortable chair and moved down into the forward bubble. “Well Fred, have you a course for us?” He questioned his new “old” navigator.