by Giles
Tash opened her mouth to object but closed it again as Gopal laid a hand on her arm. Without a word the pair moved off down the catwalk to follow the directions they had been given. Nichols turned to deReuter to give him a piece of his mind. Just what in the hell was the man up to even suggesting Tash do something this dangerous? But Lance changed his mind when his eyes met deReuter’s. The Dutchman stood tall and unmoving.
“She saved my life once Chief. I’ve been climbing in the Alps since I was a boy, my father was a guide. I will tell you Sir I have never seen better climbers than Tash and Gopal. It was how I met them Sir and how I came to be here on this ship. You must believe me Mr. Nichols; it will be safer for everyone if you allow me to work with Tash and Gopal.”
Nichols covered his face with his hands and once more addressed the Virgin Mary. If Tash gave him a direct order he would have to allow this but as a man it was against everything he stood for to let a lady go directly into danger. And that the lady in question was Tash made it ever so much harder. He cared for the lass as if she were his own daughter. But what this all came down to was that in his heart, he too knew that Tash and Gopal were the only real choice to help Gus. The hand over Nichol’s face raked up and back through the man’s damp hair.
“I need to put in a damage report, I’ll be back shortly. Stand watch here man and be careful!”
****
On the bridge Aneurin Jones barely heard the thump from the pneumatic tube. He reached over and retrieved several message tubes. “Damage reports arriving Sir.”
“Thank you Mr. Jones, can you read them to me, Sir?
“Aye Captain,” Jones replied as he quickly emptied the message tubes. “Mr. Collins reports no damage to the engine room; engine number two still functioning at 80 % power and holding steady. Mr. Adams reports from auxiliary bridge: no damage, all systems functioning except for the speaking grills.” Jones stopped a brief second before reading aloud the next message, he was trying not to smile when finally started speaking again. “ Mr. Roger Landover reports no damage to the nose cone and respectfully asks: “What the hell happened?”
Jerard chuckled. “Mr. Jones please respectfully inform Mr. Landover that we have been hit by lightning and ask him to hold his post for the moment.”
“Yes Sir,” Jones replied grinning like a Cheshire cat. Before he could take pencil in hand another message popped into the tube. Opening it he read it aloud.
“Captain this is from Mr. Adams he is back in the electrical room and has found the problem with the speaking grills. He says it is a short Sir and he will have them back on in just a few minutes.”
“Excellent! But what about Nichols? And the chap in charge of the gas bags? Any word?”
“No Sir, I shall contact Mr. Collins again as the engine room was Mr. Nichol’s last known location.”
Jerard nodded and placed his hand on the helm. “There is something wrong, do you feel it Mr. Wallace?”
“We’re still droppin’ a wee bit still captain 6,500 feet at present, but I feel something else as well Sir but I canna tell you what it is.”
“Hm…me either. Carry on Sir.” Jerard turned away from the helm and returned to his captain’s chair. If the truth were to be told, he was a little worried. Nichols should have been the first to report…
Mr. Jones jumped to retrieve a new message. Jerard impatiently waited for the man to open and read the report. He turned to face the officer expectantly.
“It’s from Mr. Nichols Sir. He says we have taken a direct hit on ring 93 and two of the mooring ropes of gas bag number 15 have broken loose. He is in the process of having it repaired now. He will report back when he is finished.
Jerard frowned. Damn, damn and thrice damn! He thought, wishing he had made it up to the gas bag chamber during the tours. He could only picture the military configuration of bags and somehow he doubted that they would be the same in this lovely lady.
“Sir?” Wallace queried as quietly as he could in the pounding rain. “Could a loose gas bag cause the vibration in the helm?”
Jerard shook his head. “No, a gas bag has no mass.”
“Well then Sir…”
“As you were Wallace!” Jerard interrupted the helmsman before he could continue. Jerard was not about to allow any of his men to become panicked. The truth was that the vibration might be nothing…at least Jerard hoped this was the case. But somehow things never worked out like that did they? “Jones, send a return message to Mr. Nichols, let him know that the helm controls are less than stable.”
****
After Nichols sent his report to the bridge he returned to the damaged area to find that Jeremy Landover had joined the repair team. He was wearing a strange looking harness, and maneuvering a series of hanging ropes. He looked up to see a several bobbing lights above. Not wanting to distract the man he quietly moved closer.
Right on cue, the loose gas bag’s mooring line whipped over head. It tangled in the ropes and Landover shouted in a great booming voice, “Got it!! Let ‘er go slowly!” The heavily muscled man hauled gently on the tangled ropes, coaxing the mooring line towards him.
Nichols realized he was holding his breath and let it out slowly. The mooring line went taught and Jeremy let out his rope to follow, then reeled it in again. This see-saw went back and fourth for what seemed like hours and reminded Lance of watching fishermen in the deep sea. Pull in, let out, pull in…on and on until Landover had the end of the mooring line in his hands. In a smooth movement he reached behind him and snagged another rope that was tied to the ship’s frame and quickly knotted the two together.
“Good work Sir!” Nichols shouted above the sound of the rain. The sound of the rain…good God! He just realized that it was raining inside the hull! Nichols reached a tentative finger and poked the hull skin. A bead of water popped through and ran down the inside. Fearing the worst, Nichols moved closer to the scorch mark and poked again. The fabric gave way as if it were rotted and Nichols watched in horror as a small hole opened and steady stream of water poured in. His eyes followed the scorch mark as far as he could see. Did the scar reach all the way to the apex of ring 93?
He turned to Jeremy standing beside him to see the man steadily working at the ropes and looking up. Nichols was startled to find that one of bobbing lights seemed to be moving towards them, like a spider descending from a web. He watched in fascination as the light moved closer. It did not take long for Nichols to realize that there was a figure at the end of the rope holding the light and it took even less time for him to see that it was Tash.
“Good God!” He shouted but quickly closed his mouth to keep from distracting Landover who was now obviously guiding her down.
Tash laughed as she dropped lightly onto the catwalk. “Not God Lance, it’s just me. Now back up a bit love, we’ve got to attach this line so I can get back up there.”
“You’re not!” Nichols sputtered, shocked beyond belief that this woman had been dangling from a rope from twenty feet in the air. “What do you think you are doing?”
Tash looked at Nichols and shrugged. “I am taking the mooring line back up to Gus so he can secure it again.”
Landover had untied the mooring rope from the strut and was dropping the slack over the side of the catwalk. He turned cool eyes on Nichols but did not comment as he took the end of the rope and tied it to a large clip hanging from the harness Tash wore. “Ready?” He asked Tash.
“Let’s go.” She replied and began climbing the strut that was hull ring 93.
Nichols gasped loudly as the tiny woman sprang up the side of the ship. The light hanging from her belt illuminated the scorch mark and Nichols sucked in a sharp breath. The thing was huge!
Mistaking the sound as fear for Tash, Jeremy Landover spoke. “She is quite good Sir. I’ve never met anyone like her. Fearless b’god!”
“Indeed.” Nichols muttered making note of Landover’s admiration and lack of fear.
Seconds later Landover grunted as the light swu
ng free of the side of the hull and he took all of Tash’s weight on the rope.
“Is she falling?” Nichols shouted in alarm.
“No Sir, the curve of the hull prevents further climbing. Now the three of us are holding her and guiding her to where Gustav is waiting to secure the mooring.”
“But! But! The light is swinging!”
“Yes Sir, she must swing towards Gustav so he can catch her.”
“But what if he misses?”
“Then we try the swing again until he is able to catch her.” Landover grunted as the light swung back away from the hull. “Like that Sir.” Landover heaved a great breath and hauled on the rope. “Excuse me Sir, I must concentrate.”
“Of course.” Nichols sighed and took a step back. He looked around; there must be something he could do to help. After all he was still a strong man, only a little past his prime. Nichols looked up again and saw the light swing towards the hull and stop. He’s caught her then, he thought as the two lights seemed to be stationary. Long seconds passed before Lance could hear a sharp shrill whistle. He turned expectantly to Landover.
“That’s it then Sir. The first line is secure. Now we move on to the second line.”
“Ah,” Nichols said, “I felt sure there were two loose, where is the second wayward line?”
“Directly above Sir, they found it when they climbed the stairs to the observation dome.”
“Good.” Nichols said pleased that his initial assessment had been correct.
“Not so good Sir and for the record I mis-like the plan for securing the second line.”
“What plan?” Nichols said wearily wiping the water off his face. “Never mind, I don’t think I shall ask Sir. Instead, how can I help you Mr. Landover?”
Jeremy Landover looked over at the engineer, his eyes traveled up and down the man’s form before he spoke. “You look strong Sir. If you could handle Miss Tash’s line while I hold deReuter it would be helpful. The two of them have to be hauled up to the apex of the ship. Gopal is already there Sir and will help in bringing them up. His climbing line is here but he is also secured by a secondary line to the stairwell to the observation dome. Once Tash and Gus reach the apex they will also have securing lines to the stairwell, it’s already set up.”
“How?” Nichols asked as he looked up risking another face full of water. He could not see the top of the stairwell but he mentally measured the distance to the apex of the girders.
“It's actually quite ingenious Sir. Miss Tash and Gopal designed it on the fly, if you will Sir. You see they…
Nichols cut him off. “I don’t need to know the details Landover, just tell me what to do now.” The truth was that Nichols did not want to know, his imagination was bad enough.
“She is ready to swing Sir, hold on a moment. I will try to tell you what I am doing.”
A moment passed and Nichols saw Landover yank twice on the rope. He looked up to see one of the lights swing slowly away from the hull. All at once Landover began hauling on the rope, hand over hand, drawing the light towards the roof of the ship.
“This is the easy one Sir.” The big man spoke between deep breaths. “I am feeling the pull of Gopal’s rope through her body Sir. He’s pulling from above and I am pulling from below. My line runs through one of the struts at the top Sir, Gopal is hauling her up with direct contact. We have to keep the rope taught to balance her between us you see, neither rope can go slack.”
The little light wavered as it reached the top of the ship. Nichols was not comforted when he realized that Landover seemed to be holding his breath.
“What’s happening?” Nichols murmured.
Another tense moment passed before Landover answered. “She’s secure now Sir, here’s her rope.” He handed the rope to Nichols and showed the man how to hold it so that a slack loop was formed behind his back. “Nothing to it Sir. Just hold on, one jerk means stop what you are doing, two means go. If the rope gets tight all of the sudden just try to hold it still Sir.”
“Why? What does that mean?”
“It means that her secondary rope did not hold and she is falling.”
Nichols swallowed hard and nodded praying the rope did not tighten. He turned his eyes to watch the dim lights above. He felt sure that Landover could hear his heart pounding in his chest, it was so loud that it beat out the sound of the rain and Nichol’s fear of the leaking hull.
The second light against the hull now swung free and Nichols heard Landover swear softly. As Landover began his pull on deReuter’s rope Nichols turned so that his back was to the big man. He braced his feet and pressed his back firmly against Landover. Realizing Nichols was helping, Landover allowed himself to lean into and accept the help offered. With balance restored the bobbing light seemed to move quicker toward the stationary pair above.
Both men were sweaty and breathless by the time Landover announced that deReuter was secured. Although Nichol’s back and legs were aching he kept a firm hold on Tash’s rope, waiting impatiently for the next signal.
“I want to take her rope back Sir.” Landover said gently as he turned to face Nichols again.
“Ok…” Nichols said hesitantly, suddenly sure that he was not going to like what happened next. “Give me deReuter’s rope then, so you don’t have to deal with both of them.”
“Very good Sir.” Landover said snapping off a quick salute. They exchanged ropes and Nichols observed Landover yanking twice on Tash’s line and then his fingers went loose. The rope snaked through the man’s hand and stopped on its own. Landover bent his knees and took a firm grip on the rope and then closed his eyes.
“What are you…?” Nichols caught sight of one of lights as it seemed to drop suddenly towards them. “Nooooo!” He shouted, not really sure what he was looking at, knowing only that the lights were attached to bodies. No, not bodies, Tash!
The slack in the rope jerked tight and the two men were sprayed with water. Landover was lifted briefly off his feet as they slid over the wet, slick catwalk. The light above stopped falling and began to slowly swinging back and fourth. Nichols tried to grab Landover but was rebuffed.
“Look to your own rope Sir!”
Nichols felt a single tug on his rope. “Just one tug!” He shouted, “Stop there!”
Nichols watched Landover bend his knees and brace himself. The light above them started to swing…in a circle…like a plumb bob. Nichols knew he was muttering but he was not aware of the words as he watched the light swing around and around, appearing and disappearing behind the still flapping gas bag.
Tug-tug! Nichols was startled out of his watch. “What?” He said aloud as he realized that he had received two tugs of the rope; he quickly shouted the information to Landover.
“She’s got it!” Landover cheered and gave a mighty haul on his rope.
The circling light began to move upwards and Nichols thought he heard a cheer from above. We’re not through yet old boy he reminded himself, they still have to secure that mooring line. Instinctively Nichols resumed his position of back to back with Landover, realizing that they would have to hold Tash in place while the other two worked to secure the rope.
Tense moments followed. After an age Landover finally announced that Tash was coming down. And sure enough the little light detached and floated towards the men.
Nichols caught Tash before her feet touched the catwalk and swung her around. “That was fantastic my dear!” He chortled.
“True.” She replied. “But I am afraid I have worse news. Let’s get the men down and we’ll explain.”
Nichols’ exhilaration was stamped out as he looked at the tired woman’s face. The two remaining lights seemed to be moving along the side of the hull. Nichols’ grabbed deReuter’s rope up from where he had let it fall and felt it was slack. Slowly he pulled up on the rope until he could feel deReuter at the other end. Feeding out the rope, pacing the light’s progress toward their position.
A sudden fierce gust of wind slammed into the si
de of the Discretion, twisting the ship uncontrollably. The four standing on the wet catwalk were thrown to their knees. A loud ripping sound could be heard from above. Tash lost her grip on the slippery metal and seemed to slide over the edge in slow motion.
With combat hardened reflexes, Landover grabbed at her ropes to stop her fall. “Got her.” He grunted, as the other three men scrambled for purchase.
A shrill whistle had Lance Nichols dropping back down to his belly and peering over the side. Tash had only fallen a few feet and dangled precariously near the rounding curve of the hull. “Get her back up!” He shouted.
“She’s asked to be lowered down Sir.”
“What?” Nichols shouted confused.
“She’s pointing at something Sir.” deReuter said.
The four men watched as Landover slowly lowered Tash and her light. It appeared that she had removed it from her belt and seemed to be waving it in an up-and-down motion.
Watching the light Nichols could seen that the scorch mark not only traveled up but down as well. He then caught sight of the reason for the up and down motion. The ship was taking on water.
It was deReuter, sitting back on his heels that voiced what everyone seemed to be thinking. “We’re taking on water! This is no ordinary ship, we’ve got no bilge pumps! What can we do?”
Gopal spoke into the silence left behind by the dire declaration. “Might I suggest we haul Tash back up here? While I do believe she enjoys playing in the ropes, I am thinking that our next order of business is to repair the leaks.”
“Leaks?” Nichols asked emphasizing the ‘s’.
“Yes Sir.” deReuter answered. “There is a large split in the canvas were I believe to be the lightning’s point of impact. You see Sir, the metal seems to be twisted there. It was the heat in the metal that shore off the first gas bag line. I think from there the upper line just broke….