Flying Legion

by George Allan England

  CHAPTER XVIII

  "CAPTAIN ALDEN" MAKES GOOD

  The crash of shattered glass mingled with the volley flung by themurderously spitting automatic of the stowaway. From the forwardcompanion, at the top of the ladder, "Captain Alden" fired--one shotonly.

  No second shot was needed. For the attacker, grunting, lunged forward,fell prone, sprawled on the down-slanting plates of the take-offplatform. His pistol skidded away, clattering, over the buffed metal.

  "As neat a shot as the other's was bad," calmly remarked the Master,brushing from his sleeve some glittering splinters of glass. A lurchof _Nissr_ threw him against the rail. He had to steady himself there,a moment. Down his cheek, a trickle of blood serpented. "Yes, ratherneat," he approved.

  He felt something warm on his face, put up his hand and inspected redfingers.

  "Hm! A sliver from that broken shield must have cut me," said he, anddismissed it wholly from his mind.

  Major Bohannan, with chromatic profanity, ran from the gallery."Captain Alden" drew herself up the top rounds of the ladder, emergedwholly from the companion and likewise started for the woundedinterloper. Both, as they ran aft toward the fallen man, zigzaggedwith the pitch and yaw of the stricken airship, slipped on the plates,staggered up the incline.

  And others, from the aft companion, now came running with cries, theirbodies backgrounded by the leaping flames and smoke that formed a wakebehind the wounded Eagle of the Sky.

  Before the major and Alden could reach the stowaway, he rallied. Upto hands and knees he struggled. He dragged himself away to starboard.Trailing blood, he scrambled to the rail.

  The major snatched his revolver from its holster. Up came the"Captain's" gun, once more.

  "No, no!" the Master shouted, stung into sudden activity. "Not that!Alive--take him alive!"

  The stowaway's answer was a laugh of wild derision; a hideous, shrill,tremulous laugh that rose in a kind of devilish, mockery on the air ofthat high level. For just a second the man hung there, swaying, at therail. Beyond him, up the tilt of the falling _Nissr_, brighter flameswhipped back. Came a burst of smoke, another concussion, a shudderingimpact that trembled through the whole vast air-liner. White-hotfire ribboned back and away, shredded into little, whirling gusts ofincandescence that dissolved in black smoke.

  "Take me alive, eh?" the stowaway shouted, madly. "Ha-ha! I see you!You're all dead men, anyhow! I'll go first--show you I'm not afraid!"

  With astonishing agility he leaped. Hands on rail, with a last supremeburst of the energy that innervated his dying body, he vaulted clear.Out and away he hurled himself. Emptiness of space gathered him to itsdizzy, vacant horror.

  The Master, quite unmindful of the quickening bloodstream down hisface and neck, looked sharply--as if impersonally interested in someproblem of ballistics--at the spinning, gyrating figure that withgrotesque contortions plummeted the depths.

  Over and over, whirling with outflung arms and legs, dropped thestowaway. Down though _Nissr_ herself was plunging, he fell faster.Swiftly his body dwindled, shrinking to a dwarf, an antlike thing, ablack dot. Far below on the steely sea-plain, a tiny bubble of whiteleaped out, then faded. That pinpoint of foam was the stowaway'sgrave.

  "Very good," approved the Master, unmoved. He lurched against therail, as a sudden maneuver of the pilot somewhat flattened out theair-liner's fall. The helicopters began to turn, to buzz, to roarinto furious activity, seeking to check the plunge. The major camestaggering back. But quicker than he, "Captain Alden" was at theMaster's side.

  "He shot you?" the woman cried, pointing.

  "Bah! A splinter of glass!" And the Master shook off the blood witha twitch of his head. "That was a neat bull's-eye you made on him,Captain. It saves you from punishment for forgetting you were underarrest; for climbing the ladder and coming above-decks. Yes--I've gotto rescind my order. You're at liberty. And--"

  "And I stay with the expedition, sir?" demanded Alden, her hand goingout in an involuntary gesture of appeal. For the first time, shewas showing eagerness of a feminine sort. But she suppressed it,instantly, and stood at attention. "If I have done you any service,sir, reward me by letting me stay!"

  "I will see. There may be no expedition to stay with. Now--"

  "Life-belts, sir? And take to the small planes?" came a voice fromthe companion-way. The face of Manderson--of him who had found thestowaway--appeared there. Manderson looked anxious, a trifle pale.Aft, more figures were appearing. In spite of the iron discipline ofthe Legion, signs of disorder were becoming evident. "We're hard hit,sir," Manderson reported. "Every man for himself, now? Orders, sir?"

  "My orders are, every man back to his post!" cried the Master, hisvoice a trumpet-call of resolution. "There'll be no _sauve qui peut_,here!" He laid a hand on the butt of his pistol. "Back, every man ofyou!"

  Came another dull, jarring explosion. _Nissr_ reeled to port. TheLegionaries trickled down the companion-ladders. From somewhere belowa cry rose: "The aft starboard float--it's gone! And the stabilizer--"

  Confused sounds echoed. _Nissr_ sagged drunkenly, lost headway andslewed off her course, turning slowly in the thin, cold air. Herpropellers had been shut off; all the power of her remaining engineshad now been clutched into the helicopter-drive.

  The Master, indifferently smearing off the blood from his neck, madehis way toward the forward companion. He had to hold the rail with onehand, for now the metal plates of the observation gallery were sharplycanted. _Nissr_ had got wholly out of control, so far as steerage-waywas concerned; but the rate of her fall seemed to have been a triflechecked.

  Alden and the major followed their chief to the companion. All threedescended the ladder, which hung inward and away from them at a sharpangle. They reached the strangely inclined floor of the main corridor,and, bracing themselves against the port wall, worked their way aft.

  Not all the admirable discipline of the Legion could prevent someconfusion. Such of the men as were on duty in pilot-house, pits,wireless, or engine-room were all sticking; but a number of off-dutyLegionaries were crowding into the main corridor. Among them theMaster saw Leclair and Rrisa. No one showed fear. The white featherwas not visible; but a grim tension had developed. Death, imminent,sobers the boldest.

  From the engine-room, shouts, orders, were echoing. The engine-roomdoor flung open. Smoke vomited--thick, choking, gray. Auchinclossreeled out, clutching at his throat.

  "What chance?" the Master cried, staggering toward him.

  "If--the fire spreads to the forward petrol-tanks, none!" gasped thechief engineer. "Aft pit's flooded with blazing oil. Gorlitz--my God!"

  "What about Gorlitz?"

  "Burned alive--to a crisp! I've got four extinguishers at work. Twoengines out of commission. Another only limping! And--"

  He crumpled, suddenly, dropping to the metals. The Master saw throughthe clinging smoke, by the dimmed light of the frosted disks, that theskin of the engineer's face and hands was cooked to a char.

  "If he's breathed flame--" began the major. Alden knelt beside him,peered closely, made a significant, eloquent gesture.

  "Volunteers!" shouted the Master, plunging forward.

  Into the fumes and smother, half a dozen men fought their way. Fromthe bulkheads they snatched down the little fire-grenades. The Masterwent first. Bohannan was second, with Rrisa a close third. Leclair inhis forward rush almost stumbled over Alden. The "Captain," masked andstill unrecognized as a woman by any save the Master, was thrust backfrom the door by the Celt, as she too tried to enter.

  "No, not you!" he shouted. "You, with only one arm--faith, it's worsethan useless! Back, you!" Then he and many plunged into the blazingengine-room.

  Thus they closed with the fire-devil now licking ravenous tonguesabout the vitals of _Nissr_.