It was seven in the evening when a meal was brought. She made sure she ate everything, even though it was not very appetising. Khuwelsa never had a problem eating anything that was put before her.
At eleven o’clock the lights went out. The guards still patrolled, but the number of people out in the streets and in the compound was greatly reduced. That was the good thing about armies. They even slept by the clock.
But she couldn’t afford to do that. So she continued to stand at the window looking out even though she kept slipping as she drifted to sleep. At one point she caught herself on her knees, having decided in her befuddled state that lying down for a few minutes would be completely fine.
It was then a rattling alarm erupted through the compound.
vii
Lights flicked on almost immediately. Khuwelsa pushed herself up on one elbow from where she’d been curled up asleep on the floor.
“What’s that?” Her words ran together as she tried to push the sleep away.
Harry grinned. “Told you.”
“Told me what?”
“Johannes. He’s set off the alarm as a diversion. Come on, get the door open.”
Khuwelsa climbed to her feet and made her way to the door. She extracted her kit, undid the buckle and rolled it open. Selecting a spatula-like tool, she knelt by the lock. Harry watched as she inserted the tool into the frame and wiggled it a few times. Sellie glanced up at her and nodded.
“Pull.”
Harry grabbed the handle and applied increasing pressure. The door shifted slightly and then edged open.
The sound of the alarm got louder as the gap between the door and the frame opened up. Khuwelsa removed the spatula and together they peered through. There was no guard in sight.
“Let’s go,” hissed Harry.
“Wait.” Khuwelsa brought out a pair of pliers and yanked a distorted lump of metal from the lock. She put it in her pocket, exchanging it for the original metal latch which she carefully returned to its proper position and jammed into place. She stood up and gave the room a final scan while Harry shifted impatiently at the entrance.
“Come on.”
Khuwelsa rewrapped her tools and returned them to their hidden pocket. “Just making sure we haven’t forgotten anything.” She walked past Harry into the corridor.
“And what, pray, could we have possibly forgotten?”
Khuwelsa shrugged. Harry pulled the door shut and it clicked into place.
“That’ll keep them guessing,” said Khuwelsa.
They made their way along the corridor past a bell still rattling out the alarm. Khuwelsa put her fingers in her ears as they passed. They turned left through an entrance into the stairwell. It was quieter out there with the door closed.
“What if it’s a real alarm?” asked Khuwelsa while Harry looked up and down the stairwell.
“It isn’t.” Harry headed up.
“Don’t we want to go down?”
“Down is where all the soldiers are.”
“And the Pegasus.”
“Trust me.”
Khuwelsa gave her a look but followed her as she lifted her skirts and took the wide stairs two at a time.
As they reached the next level the alarm stopped, followed almost immediately by the sound of grumbling soldiers echoing up from below them. A final flight led up and terminated in a door. They kept going.
Harry tried the handle. It opened without any trouble. Cold night air flowed in, along with the distant sounds of officers barking orders and the tramp of marching feet.
The two girls slipped out onto the roof and shut the door behind them.
Like a black desert the top of the building lay before them, lights from the streets glowing beyond the edges. They headed towards the wing of the building to the right. The Pegasus was located at its far end.
As they reached the corner Harry looked over the edge into the compound below. It was empty but brightly lit. They would never be able to get across it to their ship without being seen by the guards on the gate. She wondered whether perhaps they would have been less awake if it hadn’t been for the alarm.
The door they had come out of opened once more, spraying light into the darkness. They froze. Two soldiers stepped onto the roof and shut the door behind them. Against the blackness they became invisible.
A murmur of conversation drifted across to them. Strange, how German sounds like English when you can’t make out the words, Harry thought. She saw a flare of light as they lit cigarettes. Probably shouldn’t be smoking on duty, but it meant they weren’t paying attention. She nudged Khuwelsa and, keeping low with their skirts pulled up, they moved on.
They made it to the end of the building where a metal ladder led down to their little ornithopter. There was no way they could get down with the two soldiers lounging around on the rooftop. They’d notice any movement as she and Khuwelsa went over the edge since the side of the building was lit up.
Harry glanced at Khuwelsa. She was removing her dress. It took Harry a moment to understand; it was the only practical way they were going to be able to get down. With a heavy sigh Harry followed suit, reaching round and untying the bows that held the bodice tight.
This will be very awkward if we get caught, she thought as she shrugged the heavy material off her shoulders and wriggled the dress down over her hips. Not only awkward, but unfortunate—they would have to leave the dresses behind, regardless.
Khuwelsa had got hers off. Next she produced a pair of scissors from her tool kit and proceeded to cut three long strips from one of her petticoats. She passed one of the strips across to Harry, then rolled up her own dress into a tight bundle that she tied off with another.
Harry smiled and did the same while Khuwelsa was folding and tying the last strip into knots, or so it looked to her. Harry shoved her arm through the cotton strip holding her dress and pushed the bundle back so it was on her shoulder, giving her complete freedom of movement.
Whatever Khuwelsa had been doing, she was apparently finished. She delved into a pocket of her bloomers—when had she put a pocket in?—and there was a quiet chink of metal on metal. Khuwelsa held the ends of her knotted strip and placed the whatever-it-was into the loop. She got up on one knee and spun the slingshot, getting up speed, and then released it towards the far corner of the building beyond the soldiers.
There was nothing to see.
And nothing to hear.
Khuwelsa sighed quietly and rummaged for another missile. She wound up and let fly again. Harry got the impression it was with less force than before. Two things happened in quick succession: glass shattered, and the soldiers swore. The glow of their cigarettes dropped to the rooftop and vanished. They unslung their guns and headed round the top of the stairwell to investigate the noise.
Harry squeezed Khuwelsa’s arm. Staying low they made it to the edge and swung over onto the ladder. First Harry and then, after she had descended a few steps, Khuwelsa. They were completely exposed; it would only require someone to look up, or look out from a window, and they’d be seen. The guards on the roof would probably head back and see them easily, too.
Halfway to the ground they heard the sound of someone in the compound. Harry looked down. A soldier stood by the gate, talking to the guard. They laughed about something. Harry glanced up at Khuwelsa but could see nothing more than her legs. Finally she took a look at the roof; as yet there was no sign of the guards. She tried to will the soldier to leave.
Instead he moved forward until all she could see was his legs. The rest of his body was hidden by the guard house roof. Harry tapped Khuwelsa twice on the leg and headed down again. She kept peering over her shoulder as she descended; more of the guard came into view. Before he could have seen them, they were safely hidden behind the body of the Pegasus. They reached the ground and then clambered up on to the trailer. Shucking off their bundles the girls sheltered in the shadow of their ’thopter. Harry almost kissed it.
The main hatch was on the oth
er side of the fuselage, and there was no way they would be able to use it without being seen. So while Khuwelsa set to with a screwdriver on one of the portholes—it was going to be a squeeze—Harry crept to the rear and unbuckled the straps that had been used to tie the Pegasus to the trailer. She wouldn’t be able to do anything about the one on the other side, but she hoped unbuckling this side would be enough.
She headed forward as Khuwelsa gently removed the metal-bound glass from the porthole. Khuwelsa shoved the dresses inside and, using a protrusion on the hull for a foothold, got her head and shoulders through, then wriggled her way inside. Harry knew she had no need to tell Khuwelsa to get the furnace going, though she was puzzled when she saw her sister pulling one end of a rope into the ship as well, leaving the rest dangling out.
Harry crept to the forward strap and worked to undo it. She was almost fully exposed, though still in shadow. Of course this one had been buckled tighter than the other, so she had to spend time straining at it. Finally she got it released and pulled the leather through the loops.
At a premonition of danger, she jerked her gaze up. Straight across from her, looking out of a downstairs window, and directly at her, was a face. Johannes. He watched her for a few more moments, then disappeared into the interior shadows.
Harry shook herself and crept back behind the ship. Hand over hand she went up the side, using Khuwelsa’s rope—no, it was a cable for electrics—to reach that porthole, then squeezed through, tumbling headfirst to the Pegasus’s deck. She could hear Sellie shovelling and see light coming from the furnace. It wouldn’t take long to heat the water, but at that point the ship would begin to make noise as the metal expanded and the generators spun up to speed.
The pilot’s chair was waiting. She clambered forward and into it, running her fingers over the familiar controls as she settled. There was nothing she could do until steam was up. Worried, she clasped her hands before her chin and idly gnawed her thumb. She desperately wanted to be away. The Germans would start shooting when they knew the Pegasus was going to lift. Someone could die. It could be Khuwelsa. Or her. And she did not like the prospect of either.
viii
There were two reasons Johannes had set off the alarm. The first was to provide a distraction to help the sisters get to their ship. He was worried at first that they had not even succeeded in getting through the door of their prison. However, he knew that Harriet was very determined, a trait that was simultaneously appealing and infuriating, and also that Khuwelsa was clever with mechanics. Surely they had found a way.
He considered his course of action, which ultimately could be considered a betrayal of his country. Officially Germany and Great Britain were not in conflict, though imprisoning the daughter of a representative of Her Majesty’s government and her companion might be considered an act of war. But the words of the commandant before he left had helped Johannes decide.
“I shall release the girls at midday, then, sir?”
“No, Lieutenant,” he had said without a moment’s thought or consideration. “You will keep the daughter locked up, as she may prove a useful bargaining tool. You can do what you like with the black. Sell her.”
Johannes considered himself to be a good soldier, and part of that was keeping one’s word. He had told Harriet she would be released the next day. He would not be made a liar. Nor would he be made a slaver.
To that end, he had not caused a fuss over the time the girls had taken in the officers’ convenience—after all, everyone knew how long women usually took—nor had he taken any steps to have the place examined afterwards. Luckily the other officers were not familiar with the two.
But he had not seen them escape by any of the routes he expected, and after the alarm had been switched off he had taken a squad up to their room and tried the door. It was still firmly locked and showed no signs of having been tampered with, at least from the outside. That had been the low point, where he had concluded they had not been able to escape. To be honest, he had been disappointed.
He had dismissed his men and gone down for a look at the Pegasus still lying there in the courtyard.
And that was when he had seen them coming down the ladder, in their underclothes. He smiled. They had gone across the roof. That was daring and completely foolhardy, he thought as he watched them descend—Harriet’s bare white limbs, Khuwelsa’s dark ones and their clothes so white it would take a blind man not to see them even on a moonless night.
Both Harriet and Khuwelsa were handsome women in their own ways, and they were not shrinking violets—they were willing to risk their lives for their country. Or perhaps, in Harriet’s case, it was simply that she was as stubborn as a mule. Somehow that description seemed to fit her better. Khuwelsa would probably follow Harriet to the ends of the earth and then devise a means of returning.
He watched as one of the guards crossed the courtyard and failed to check his surroundings. Johannes made a mental note to have the man disciplined for his incompetence. The soldier then compounded his crime by starting up a conversation with the gate guard, thus distracting him as well. This might, however, work out for the best.
A glance back at the ladder showed him that Harriet and Khuwelsa were gone. They must have completed their descent. Khuwelsa would have entered the vessel in order to fire up the furnace and bring up the steam pressure before they would be able to take off. That could not happen without alerting the base.
Which brought him to the second reason he had set off the alarm. If one alarm were proven to be false, and another followed quickly, the men would be less enthusiastic in their response since the second would just as likely be false. There would be no mad rush to their stations.
He watched a shadowy form he guessed to be Harriet moving to the front of the carrier on which the Pegasus was loaded. She wrestled with the buckles on the strap and got it loose. He glanced at the two guards who were still chatting; they had even lit up a couple of cigarettes.
He looked back at Harriet to discover she was looking straight at him. He paused for a moment and stepped backwards out of the light.
She slipped back behind the ship.
* * *
Harry watched the steam pressure gauge creep oh-so-slowly towards the range in which she could engage the wings. The wings, she thought in horror and looked to her left through the canopy. The left side was tight against the wall with no space for a wing beat. They would need to be near the centre of the compound to accommodate the full span.
She pulled herself out of the chair and headed back to where Khuwelsa was pumping the furnace manually to keep the noise down. The heat from the fire was already turning the ’thopter’s interior into an oven.
“We need to move the ship,” said Harry.
Khuwelsa nodded and pointed to a jury-rigged set of electrical connections. “When we power up the Faraday it’ll do the same for the trailer. We’ll be able to move it.”
“When were you planning on telling me?”
Khuwelsa smiled. “I knew you’d work it out.”
Harry did not smile but put her hand on Khuwelsa’s arm. “Once we get going you need to stay down.”
“You’re the one that’s at risk, Harry,” said Khuwelsa. “I’m surrounded by metal.”
* * *
Outside in the compound the German soldiers chatting by the gate were interrupted by the chuffing of a steam engine. They ignored it at first; heavy equipment on the move was not unusual at any time of the day or night. Especially now.
But the sound grew to the point where it could no longer be ignored.
The guard took a couple of steps back into the open part of the compound and stared in astonishment at the smoke pouring from the British ornithopter’s stack.
“Alarm!”
He unslung his rifle as the soldier in the guard post set off the jangling bells throughout the building.
* * *
Khuwelsa gave two shrill whistles. Harry reached forward, flipped the Faraday and the feeli
ng of lightness swept through them.
A bullet ricocheted nearby, the sound zinging across Harry’s head. Instinctively she ducked but felt no pain. She glanced out to the right; two soldiers, one with a rifle and the other with a pistol, trained their weapons on the ship.
After so many years in the Pegasus it was as if the vessel were an extension of her own body and she reacted without thinking. Grabbing the controller for the right wing, she slammed it forward and to the right. The starboard wing flicked out and smashed into the two men, sending them flying into the far wall where they fell to the ground and lay still.
It took her a moment to take in what had happened. She whispered an apology and hoped they weren’t dead. But now she realised what she needed to do.
She worked the left wing with more finesse until the metal arm was against the wall at their side, and then she pushed. The Pegasus slipped to the side before catching on the trailer straps. She pushed harder, and the Pegasus tilted. That wasn’t working.
She let off the pressure and the ship righted. Harry angled the right wing to the ground and pushed down as she applied pressure to the wall again. There was a terrific crash of shattering glass as the left wing went through a window.
She cursed herself and pulled it free, making sure she jammed it against the brickwork for her next attempt. This time she pushed down with the right wing to take some of the weight, pulling the trailer up as well. Success. The lateral force from the left wing turned the front of the Pegasus toward the middle of the compound…
… where she saw a squad of soldiers pouring from the main doors.
They were about forty feet away. She ploughed both wings into the ground and then drove them backwards, forcing the ship and trailer forward. The men in the squad jumped at the movement. Harry was pretty sure nobody had done that with an ornithopter before.
It also gave her an idea. Bullets pinged off the fuselage as she threw the Pegasus into a crazy walk across the courtyard, thrusting it forward again and again. The soldiers dived in all directions as the ship crashed into the space they’d been occupying.
Harry Takes Off: Astounding Stories of Adventure (Iron Pegasus Book 1) Page 3