“‘He’s got a better chance to learn to fly than you do, Mike,’ I said. ‘Drop him.’”
Mike said, “I got my left foot around a wire.”
“By the time we got to the ground, you were sitting naked on the wing and holding the little bird. But, most of all, damn, Mike, I guess that was the first time I knew I loved the hell out of you.”
Mike looked at her and said, “I loved you the first day you came into the Museum, Robin.” He reached up a wet hand and pulled a small piece of seaweed from her forehead.
Robin said, “Maybe it’s finally time for us to stop kidding around and really get together.”
“I’d like that,” said Mike. “No more solo vacations?”
“No.”
He leaned toward her. They were interrupted by a shout from the beach. Hobble was waving. The seaplane was poking through the honeysuckle hedge above the beach.
Mike and Robin splashed out of the creek and joined the others on the ropes pulling the ship down the bank, Robin only stopping to pull on her top.
Fence posts were pulled out of the ground to allow the seaplane to pass. They were laid carefully near their holes, ready to be replaced. More villagers came to assist. Everyone had a hand on a rope, intent on gently guiding the heavy plane over the bank. For a few minutes as the Magnolia Whispers turned downward, the tail rose very high into the air.
The remains of the old ramp used when the seaplane originally crashed were cleared of brush and new wood added where necessary. Some sheets of heavy plywood for the aircraft wheels were also placed as needed. The plane’s front wheel reached the ramp and leveled out the descent.
“We got to be able to take this up quick, boys, so don’t make it too permanent,” said Hobble.
A half hour passed in pulling and shoving the big machine, but finally it floated in the creek, just off the beach. Inside the fuselage, Regal was preparing to light the boilers for the first flight. Mike could see fumes coming from the exhausts.
They gathered on the beach. Now that it was in the water the plane did not seem as large. Its sharp bowed displacement hull was resting in the creek like any boat and its wings hovered close to the surface riding on the small wingtip floats. Only the high tail continued to speak of the true power of this plane. Also, from the exhaust came more and more spurts of white fumes, the gentle puffing evidence of the steam energy that could be unleashed in this great bird.
Mike was the first to notice the right wing drop down.
“She’s sinking,” yelled Mike.
As they watched, the plane’s wing dropped further, the float vanishing underwater as the ship canted to starboard. Ripples spread back toward shore.
“Leak sprung in the hull,” shouted Regal, his head appearing from the pilot compartment window. “Bulkhead is holding but I don’t know how long.”
“What do we do?” Jesse asked Mike.
Mike explained as he splashed toward the bow. “When they were first designing seaplanes, the water in the hulls used to run forward or back and throw the plane off. When they put in the bulkheads, that stopped the water from rushing around and limited the problems with leaking to compartments. That’s what is going on. The bulkhead is taking the pressure of the water. As long as it holds, and if we can fix the leak, we’re still in business.”
They got to the seaplane hull, standing in creek water up to their necks.
“Let’s get her back into shallow water,” Mike said.
The mooring lines were pulled and the plane slowly came back from the creek. As she was pulled out of the water on her landing gear, trapped water poured out a crack near the nose of the plane. Inside the hull, the aircraft pump was running at full speed, the noise barking against the hot creek air.
Regal climbed down into the lower hull and worked inside in the dim light checking the seams. Hobble and Mike were beside the hull on the outside, listening to Regal’s report.
“How long to fix it?” asked Hobble.
“It’s not going to be easy,” answered Regal, his voice muffled by the fuselage wall. “We’ll do what we can.”
Hobble looked up at the sky and ordered that camouflage netting be strung over the craft.
“It looks like one of the Pacific installations in World War Two, camouflaged against the Japanese dive bombers,” said Robin.
Mike said to Hobble, “Regal will do his best. Unfortunately he doesn’t have the new adhesives that we use to repair this kind of metal. We’ll need another great favor from you and I don’t have to remind you, we’ll face some risk.”
“Just ask,” said Hobble.
Mike spoke quickly. “We’ve got to get my assistant, Jeremy, out here, and do it without arousing suspicion. He can bring what we need to fix this hull. He’s the only man who understands how to repair these old metal compounds. Without him, we can’t get it strong enough to stand the pounding and pressure of Robin’s takeoff.”
“We can have him here by tonight,” said Hobble, his face decisive, and turned to give the order to Jonathan.
Chapter Eighteen
8 PM, July 3
The Tabernacle, Maryland
Mike stood by the road to greet Jeremy when he arrived from Wilmington. The younger man jumped out of the truck, his hands full of repair materials.
“Any more news about Jenni?” he asked right away.
“As far as we know she’s still with Tim,” said Mike. “He told me she’s afraid to go to the police.”
“The fact that she’s at least safe was the best news I’d heard in a long time.”
Mike took some of the cartons. Jeremy motioned to the truck. “I tried to pack everything I thought might work. I even brought some of my new compounds.”
“From all the reports on television, I wasn’t sure whether you two were still alive,” he said, as he hugged Robin. “The police say that you’ve been spotted in Texas.”
“We’re OK with that,” she said.
“The Museum has really stirred up some controversy. If I believed in miracles, I’d think that Aviatrice Corporation might even be on the defensive about Captain Lawson, the way the press are going after that Jessica Veal. She can’t seem to say anything right on the talk shows and she has a very nasty look to her. Not a crowd pleaser. She got on TV and showed the lab remains. She claims that Captain Lawson blew up the lab and went to the Soviets, because he wanted more money than the high salary Aviatrice had offered him.”
Mike smiled.
“Attendance is way up,” winked Jeremy. “I thought you’d be glad of that.”
“Gladys and everyone all right?”
“Gladys has told off a few Aviatrice people, but you figured that.”
“I wish I could have seen her in action.”
Jeremy glanced around at the village houses. “Some kind of place, man! Jonathan was telling me about it on the way.”
Mike introduced him to Hobble and to Regal. “You guys better get to work right away.”
Jeremy nodded and said, “This isn’t going to be easy, Mike. It’s the corrosion. The metal may not have enough strength no matter what we do.”
“Do your best. That’s all any of us can do.”
“By the way, I read all your materials. They’re safe, put away.”
Jesse came up. He had not met Jeremy.
Jeremy said, “Your mother was interviewed by a Baltimore reporter. Something about your father being killed by a mob. She claims that Aviatrice murdered him.”
Jesse grinned. “She’ll tell ‘em.”
“The only word from Aviatrice on that claim was that she was an old and bitter woman who was trying to sue a large company.”
Regal led Jeremy across the common toward the creek and the seaplane. As they walked away, Mike heard them talking shop about the leak. Regal helped Jeremy carry a large cardboard box with cans of resin and various other chemicals, the ingredients for mixing his repair “poultice” as he called it.
According to Hobble, getting Jeremy away from the Museum h
ad not been easy. Jonathan had arranged with the guards at the store to bring several cars and to move Jeremy along back roads to avoid being followed. Even with all the precautions, his men were not sure they had avoided all surveillance. Also troubling was the fact that Hobble’s son had gone off again and none of the villagers knew where the teenager was.
“He still doesn’t understand how dangerous the outside can be,” said Hobble.
“He’ll be all right. Teenagers have nine lives, just like cats,” smiled Robin.
“I hope you’re right,” said Hobble.
They all assisted Jeremy and Regal. After the resin and hardeners were prepared, they were applied to the crack in the hull. Mike and Jesse held flat material against the inside hull as Jeremy spooned resin against the outside wall. They worked for hours, trying to find all the fissures and potentially weak plates in the hull.
Darkness had come and with it the incessant mosquitoes when Jeremy finally sat back from his work. He nodded to Regal and they both agreed that all they could do was wait for the resin to set.
As they sat down to a late supper at Hobble’s house, Jeremy reached into his pocket and pulled out some papers. “After I got your package of the designs, I did a little more research. Here, I brought you some reading materials,” said Jeremy. “These are the actual magazine articles from your father’s collections.”
Mike looked at the first article.
“Discovery Magazine. God, a nuclear powered bomber was a long way from this,” Mike said with a smile. “My father had a complete set of this magazine for years back.” He began to read the article to Robin,
“Steam Power for Aircraft-The Besler System.”
“Let’s see, Robin, oh, here’s something you’d like,” he said and continued,
“to start the boiler it is merely necessary to press a switch which starts an electric blower motor, causing air and fuel to be forced through the burner and into the boiler, where ignition is effected by spark. From then on the automatic controls operate all the necessary functions and the pilot has only to move the throttle and reverse lever, there being one position for forward and one for reverse.”
He read to himself for a moment, then said,
“From the time the fires were started until the engine was run up not more than five minutes elapsed. A little time was taken further to test out the reverse gear and to be sure that all apparatus was operating correctly; then the plane taxied down the field into position for the take-off. The take-off was normal in every respect except that the absence of noise was noticeable. In fact when the plane left the ground, it was the observer’s impression that the machine was not getting up sufficient speed. It flew strongly however and circled overhead a couple of times. When under full power no more noise was noticeable than is apparent with an aeroplane gliding with the engine off-merely the swish of air could be heard. Even when operating on the ground at full throttle, the propeller made very little noise.
“When the first flights were made at low altitude, the climbing angle was noticeably steep and the aeroplane was obviously under full control of the pilot. As he approached for a landing and crossed the border of the field, the propeller rotation ceased and backward rotation slowly started. After touching the ground, the pilot gave it full reverse throttle which together with the brakes fitted to this particular aeroplane brought it to a stop very quickly.”
Robin had been leafing through the papers too. “Here’s another one,” she said. “Nazi steam planes.”
Mike looked over and read the title out loud.
“Steam engines for German Warplanes? by Dr. Leo Handel, Aviation Engineering Magazine, May 1941.”
He continued,
“Reports reaching the United States that Germany is about to launch one of her secret weapons in the form of an invisible bomber made of transparent plastic material were received here naturally with utmost reserve, even though this news was endorsed by the magazine Aeroplane. It is possible this was powered by steam, which would not be the first time that the steam engine was used in aviation. One of the first airplanes ever designed, the “Avion” by Clemont Ader (which is exhibited in a museum in Paris) was equipped with a steam engine. In more recent aviation it was mostly the United States which tried to give the steam engine a chance.
“The steam engine for this particular purpose was promoted in Germany for economic reasons, and war and military uses. These units use comparatively cheap fuel oil which is much easier for Germany to obtain than the expensive high octane gasoline for airplane motors.
“One very important feature of the steam engine from the military angle is its silent performance; even though the din created by the propellers could hardly be eliminated, this fact constitutes an additional difficulty for anti-aircraft defense. Other advantages of the steam engine in aviation are the decreased fire danger due to the kind of fuel oil used.
“These ultra-modern steam engines on which the Germans experimented have very little in common with the standard machines. The fuel used, as mentioned above, is a special high grade oil. It is induced under high pressure into the steam generator; a special kind of carburetor adds air in a certain ratio and this oil air mixture is ignited by a plug. The steam is gradually generated in a spiral pipe of very small diameter which is sometimes more than 500 feet long and should reach its highest tension exactly at the end of this spiral just before it enters the cylinders. The exhaust from the cylinders leads to a condenser and the same cycle starts all over again. The loss of steam and water is extremely low on these new models.
“It is conceivable that the Germans have managed to produce a steam turbine for the airplane in question even though the high revolutions per minute presented a seemingly unsolvable problem in this connection.
“The problem of these steam engines is twofold. First of all it is extremely difficult to fine tune the correct dimensions of the various apparatus to bring them in accordance with the heat value of the unit which must work entirely automatically. Secondly, even though the weight of such an engine is comparatively very low, it is difficult to create an engine which is small enough to be used in an airplane. The weight per horsepower is in practically all cases below 2 pounds and further research should bring this well below this figure.”
Regal carried in a small metal box.
“I didn’t know this was on board the plane. No one ever saw it. We found it when we were down in the hull by the bulkhead,” he said.
“What is it?” asked Mike.
“Some kind of safe.”
Jeremy handled the box and said, “It’s a simple tumbler lock so it shouldn’t be any trouble to open.”
The villagers, complete families of husband, wife and children, dressed in the omnipresent well scrubbed overalls, had crowded into the dining room. Hobble stood up, quieted the murmur of voices and gave the grace in a loud voice.
“The Lord had kept us together all these years and let us thank Him and hope that we have a few more years of this earthly paradise left to us before we leave for His judgment of how well we have lived in this paradise He has given us. Amen.”
Other villagers came from the side entry doors carrying food. Serving bowls were passed from person to person, each spooning his or her portion. Mike grinned as he observed the heaping plates of corn bread, fresh cooked ham and chicken, fried tomatoes and fresh milk.
“The Lord has provided,” said Jonathan, smiling at him.
“He might have provided too much,” Mike grinned.
Jeremy put down the diary that he had just finished reading. “I can tell you about Vallery,” he said, getting ready to bite into a large piece of chicken.
“Was he the new name you told me about?” asked Mike.
Jeremy nodded. “I dug further about this case while you were gone and found some notes I had overlooked in a Navy file in Washington. Vallery was asked to come forward as a character witness for Captain Lawson. He was a well known State Department official very instrumental in the
formation of the United Nations. Drexel thought that he would present a good reference for the wife, family friend and all that. Vallery refused and stated that he only saw Lawson when they occasionally played tennis. So Drexel never called him. As a result we found no mention of Vallery in the newspapers.”
“He was probably warned by his superiors,” said Mike. “Nobody wanted to hurt the new institution by having one of its officials involved in a treason case, even as a character witness.”
“I’m sure Aviatrice did not want any positive character references either,” Jeremy said. “Vallery’s refusal to testify made sure that the Lawson woman was treated more harshly. As a result, no one stood up for her at all. She was isolated.”
“I’m going to go see him,” said Mike.
“What can he do for us?” asked Robin.
Mike looked at her, “I’m betting he can get us into the United Nations like he promised Captain Lawson.”
“You think he’ll do anything after all these years?” asked Jesse.
“It’s worth a try,” said Mike. “They were friends. Maybe he’ll think he still owes the Captain, you know, will want to help make it right.”
“You got a lot more faith in those high level bureaucrats than I do, Mike,” said Jeremy.
“You are the only one to go. If I went it would be more of the same, more denial,” said Jesse. “You’re an outsider. He might talk to you.”
“You have the risk of being caught by the police,” Robin said, her face solemn.
“They won’t be looking for you in a pickup. Take my truck,” said Hobble. “We’ll give you a copy of that diary too.”
“I’ll work on your disguise,” said Robin.
Jeremy said, “He lives near Philadelphia, out on the Main Line. I’ve got his address.”
Jeremy started to work on the safe, listening to the faint clicks of the tumblers in the old combination lock.
Hobble motioned to them to finish their dinners. “I guess what we’re all worried about here today,” he looked at his wife, “are the families. We include our new friends too. We worry that all of this will be taken from us.”
Magnolia Gods (River Sunday Romance Mysteries Book 2) Page 22