She glanced at the steam pressure. Nearly there.
She tried to do the same manoeuvre in reverse to get them back to the centre of the compound, only to discover the weight of the ship and trailer at the rear made it impossible.
There was banging on the hatch as the soldiers tried to gain entry. Two appeared above the canopy, their guns aimed straight at her. In a reflexive move she slammed the right wing into an upstairs window. Broken glass and wood showered down; the two soldiers slipped off, covering their heads. Using the same technique as before, Harry got the Pegasus turned around.
Two long whistles from Khuwelsa meant that they were ready to go. Harry engaged the propeller. She hoped there was no one near it as she heard it spin up to speed. She could feel the force of its thrust trying to edge the ship forward, towards the gate. Harry glanced at the steam gauge. It was on full pressure.
She gave the wings a powerful stroke and felt the ship lift slightly. The soldiers she could see in front were knocked down by the air blast.
She engaged the highest gearing for the propeller. The Pegasus surged forward. Harry gave a powerful beat that should have shot them into the air. They gained only a few feet and dropped again. Another beat and another and another. Harry worked the controls and they crept upwards. They were still carrying the trailer.
They ran straight into the gate. The Pegasus lurched forwards and the ground loomed in Harry’s face. She thrust again and again. The propeller tore the air. The ship was like a bird caught in a snare, desperately flapping its wings to pull itself free. Something had to give. And something did.
The Pegasus rocketed forward, then swung to the side. Harry realised the trailer must be unhooked, but the electrical power cable still tied it to the ship. Then that dragging weight was gone too, and the Pegasus jerked free. She heard a cry from Khuwelsa but had no time to look.
There were buildings on both sides of them but the sky above was clear. Wingtips scraped the walls, and the nose tilted upwards.
With its wings beating and the propeller whirling like a tornado, the Pegasus erupted from its cage.
ix
As they rose above the rooftops and into clear air, Harry looked back over her shoulder. Khuwelsa was sitting on the deck, cradling her arm.
Harry pulled the Pegasus into a gentle climb into the east, put the wings in an arched position and locked them off. She clambered out of her chair and headed into the body of the ship.
Khuwelsa leaned with her back to the fuselage. A ragged gash along her left forearm leaked blood. Her white chemise and drawers were splattered with red.
Harry found the tied-up parcel of her dress and untied the length of linen Khuwelsa had torn from her chemise. Using it as a bandage, she wrapped it firmly around Khuwelsa’s arm and pulled the two edges of the gash together.
Khuwelsa opened her eyes. “Thank you.”
“What happened?”
“Power cable.”
Harry looked across the ship to where she expected to see the cable. Instead there was a deep scar in the inner hull leading directly to the dismantled porthole. The cable Khuwelsa had used to power the Faraday from the trailer had torn free as they took off. The end must have lashed her arm as it was yanked through.
In the galley area, Harry rummaged around until she found a bottle of water. She brought it back, unscrewed the cap and handed it to Khuwelsa, who took a long drink. Harry returned to the pilot’s chair and checked the dials. They were still climbing but hadn’t exceeded one thousand feet yet. Pegasus could manage nearly eight thousand feet before things started to get uncomfortable for them.
She looked out. It was several hundred miles to the coast. There were no mountains or even tall hills between them and the sea, so she was not concerned about that. She was worried about the German airplanes and Zeppelins that had set off earlier. They would have stopped for the night but she was not sure how far they would have travelled, or when the Pegasus might run into them.
Flying by night was avoided where possible because it was so easy to lose one’s way. The wandering silver line of the river below them showed her they were still on the right heading. As long as she kept their course to the east, following the river, they should be fine. But if they had to evade any Germans during the night, or lost the river, they could end up anywhere along the coast.
“Pressure’s going to drop soon,” said Khuwelsa. Harry glanced back and saw her trying to stand.
“I’ll do the stoking.” Harry said and strode past her to the furnace. “You need to rest.”
Even with the door closed the heat coming off the metal warmed her bare skin.
“You’ll need me when we land.”
“I know, Sellie. But try to get some sleep for now. I can keep us in the air.”
* * *
The sun crawled above the horizon shortly before seven. Far below them a dozen giraffes cast extra-long shadows across the undulating savannah. They passed over a waterhole where a herd of gazelles and wildebeest drank. Mists hung in the dips before they were burnt away by the heat of the day.
Harry pulled down her goggles over her eyes. Their tinted glass blocked some of the rays but the brightness dispelled her tiredness. Khuwelsa still slept, her head cushioned on her rolled-up dress.
The horizon looked blurred. Harry squinted, pulled up her goggles and rubbed her eyes. It remained blurred; small dark clouds lay between grass and sky.
Zeppelins. It was the German military force. No more than fifteen miles away.
She checked the steam pressure and cursed on seeing it was almost out again. She realised she must have dozed off in the chair. Indecision froze her. The Germans would cover the distance in less than ten minutes. The Pegasus needed more altitude, but without power she could do nothing; it would be like the landing in the town all over again. Except this time the Germans would shoot to bring the Pegasus to the ground.
Harry lifted the nose a little and increased the power to the propeller, then made her way back to the furnace. She lifted the latch with the shovel and swung the door open. The heat blasted out as she piled in the coal until she thought she had enough. She paused beside Khuwelsa as she headed back to the chair. The bandage on Khuwelsa’s arm was discoloured by dried blood but there was no sign of new bleeding.
She climbed back into the chair. The steam pressure was rising. As she opened the drive valves to maximum, the roar of the propeller increased. She pulled the ship into a steep climb; this would have the double effect of getting them out of sight and slowing their ground speed so they did not reach the German encampment, wherever it was, so quickly.
By the time the Pegasus reached seven and half thousand feet she was struggling. Harry reduced the rate of climb, seeing that the Zeppelins were still a few miles out. She closed off the drive valve to cut power to the propeller. The ’thopter went quiet. Wind whispered through the feathers; the soft sound filtered into the fuselage.
If no one looked up, they should be safe—if they had not been heard already. And even if someone did look up, even if they had heard the Pegasus, they would just assume it was another German vessel. Wouldn’t they?
Harry felt a presence beside her. Khuwelsa’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Where are we?”
Their air-speed dropped, and to prevent a stall Harry tilted the nose down a little. The horizon came into view, the broad savannah and the massed encampment of the German army with the Zeppelins floating above it. To the right Harry could see the cross-shaped outlines of their fliers on the ground.
“Oh,” said Khuwelsa.
“How are you feeling?”
“My arm’s throbbing. My head feels like it’s filled with mud,” said Khuwelsa. “I’ll live.”
“I’m glad about that.”
“You’re filthy.”
“I’ve been doing your job as well as mine.”
“You should have woke me.”
“No,” said Harry. “Can you keep an eye on their airplanes? Let me know
if anything happens.”
Khuwelsa moved to the starboard side and peered through the porthole. “You mean if one of them’s taking off?”
“Yes.”
The silence that followed tugged at Harry’s tired mind. “Why do you say that?”
“Because one of them’s taking off.”
“Oh hell.”
Harry slammed open the propulsion valve and the propeller roared to life.
x
Harry jumped to her feet and peered out through the canopy. A trail of dust ended in the cross-shaped shadow of an airplane. The shadow separated itself from the ground.
“Can you stoke?” Harry asked.
“Yes.” Khuwelsa nodded and headed into the back. Harry watched as she awkwardly put on her heavy apron.
There was little point watching the plane; it wouldn’t reach their height for several minutes, if indeed it was coming after them at all. She checked to ensure the controls were stable and went to the starboard porthole. The temporary air-dock was slipping behind; she had to get up close to the glass to peer out. She saw two more airplanes on the move.
She went back to her chair, making plans based on the principle they had seen her and would be giving chase. Squinting and staring forward, towards the rising sun, she wondered how far they were from the coast. It couldn’t be very far now. Maybe fifty miles. Then there was the twenty miles of sea to cross to Zanzibar.
What could the Germans possibly be hoping to achieve? She tried to remember the boring politics her father talked about. The previous sultan of Zanzibar had been poisoned and the new one favoured the Germans. The British preferred another man who was anti-slavery. Her father had said something about diplomatic moves to replace the current leader.
Perhaps the Germans wanted to make sure the British didn’t have their man in charge. And she and Khuwelsa were the only ones who knew about the German force. She was patriotic enough to want to do her duty, though her one trip to Britain had convinced her she didn’t want to live there—it was a grey place and seemed to rain all the time.
The fact that her father would be in the middle of the trouble was even more important.
Below them the Wami River grew in size as it was fed by tributaries. It was already too wide to cross easily and would only get wider. Even worse, its banks became swamp as it got close to the sea. The only towns were Bagamoyo or Dar es Salaam even further south. The British-built bridge on the road from Mombasa was the only way across for anyone on foot. Harry checked the chronometer; it had been five minutes since they watched the German plane take off.
She set the Pegasus into a slight descent; the ship’s airspeed increased. She had no hope of matching the speed of the fixed-wing craft in level flight (or any direction of flight, if truth be told). However, if the other plane wanted to intercept her it would have spent the time climbing to her altitude.
Khuwelsa came up beside her.
“Can you see if the Kaiser’s little pet is following us, Sellie?”
Khuwelsa went to each porthole in turn. “I can’t see a thing.”
Harry frowned. “Maybe they didn’t see us after all.” She tried to think. The portholes did not provide a good view. “We have to have a proper look. I’ll do a complete circle. You keep your eyes open, out the starboard side.”
Harry took hold of the controls, feeling the wind through the wings. She disengaged the propeller and the Pegasus went silent. Gently Harry pulled on the controls and the plane swept round. The sun disappeared from the canopy and threw the interior into shadow. The compass rotated in its mount. Harry scanned the sky for telltale shapes, even a trail of steam or diesel exhaust, against the intensely blue sky.
“Level out, Harry!” shouted Khuwelsa before they had even turned all the way west. Harry adjusted the controls and let Pegasus glide in a gentle descent without re-engaging the rotor. She joined Khuwelsa at the porthole.
A cloud of dust was rising across the savannah behind them. It was not an uncommon sight; they often saw racing herds of wildebeest, zebras or gazelles spooked by a predator or maybe just their own shadows. But this wasn’t any grazing animal on the run.
They could see perhaps two dozen vehicles, all with mounted artillery, ripping across the terrain, airplanes flanking them and the Zeppelins following not far behind. Harry stared for what seemed like ages but was probably only seconds, then threw herself back to the pilot’s chair.
She yanked the controls and turned the Pegasus on its wingtip. As it stalled and began to fall she re-engaged the propeller, and they shot forwards. Barely caring if they were seen now, she beat the wings to push them forward before the power from the engine thrust them faster than the wings could.
Harry estimated it would take the German motorised forces half a day to get to the coast, maybe less. The infantry would be a few days behind, but they would have to cross the bridge or sink into the swamp. The Wami never dried up, even at this driest time of year.
Tracer bullets streamed up from beneath them, crossing towards the right. That answered that question. The German plane was trying to take out her Faraday grid. She veered off to port and dived. There was a cry of annoyance from Khuwelsa. “Sorry,” muttered Harry. She threw the Pegasus to starboard and the German plane shot across her bow, so close she could see the pilot’s face.
She gunned the propeller to maximum, diving towards the river. A crazy plan formed in her mind.
“Next time you get the chance, Sellie, can we have some guns on this thing?”
“Oh, yes! It will be my pleasure.”
Harry glanced at the steam pressure; it was at the top of the gauge. “Better strap in, this is going to be interesting.”
“In what way interesting?”
“Fatally.”
“You know, as you’re not really family maybe I could just get off while you kill yourself?”
Harry grinned and willed the Pegasus to fly faster. She trimmed the wings to reduce air resistance. They lost altitude more rapidly but their airspeed increased.
“Apart from the guns, I’d like to be able to see downwards, out the front,” she shouted.
“You want me to make a list?”
The Pegasus plummeted out of the sky. Harry glanced at the altitude gauge: two thousand feet.
“And a mirror so I can see backwards, above and below.”
“Nothing complicated then.”
Harry wished she could see behind her right now. The German would be there somewhere. But how close?
A series of metallic impacts rang through the ship in answer to her question. Harry felt one of the wings vibrate oddly. The port wing wasn’t responding well.
“He’s ruptured one of the pipes!” shouted Khuwelsa.
“Can you fix it?”
“Mind if we pop back to my workshop?”
Harry twisted the starboard wing and the Pegasus slipped sideways with its body and wings against the direction of motion, killing their forward speed. The German plane shot past them, passing them in a fraction of a second. He must have been right on their tail and lining up the shot, confident that not only were they unarmed but that they had no idea he was there. If he had been right they would be dead.
They had dropped to one thousand feet.
“Try not to use the wings for a minute,” said Khuwelsa.
Harry felt the ship sinking but the propeller was increasing their velocity in the new direction. They would get enough lift in a few moments. She locked off the controls and scanned the sky. No sign of him.
She jumped down and joined Khuwelsa, who was wrapping an oiled cloth around a pipe. “Best I can do is bind the hole. It won’t maintain good pressure and won’t last.”
“Can I help?”
Khuwelsa nodded her head at the tightly wrapped cloth she was still holding. “Keep this tight.” Harry took over while Khuwelsa grabbed some wire and a short metal rod. She wrapped the wire round loosely then inserted the rod. She turned it, steadily tightening the wire until it grip
ped tightly. Harry let go and Khuwelsa tied it off.
Harry went back to her chair and tried the wings. They responded, but the port side was still a bit mushy.
The German would have had time to come around, thought Harry. She kept climbing away into the southeast. Something caught her eye; she turned her head. The German. She whipped the Pegasus about and dived back towards the bridge—a monstrous stone thing built along the lines of London Bridge and looking completely out of place on its own in the middle of the African grasslands.
“Let’s get it right this time, shall we?” she muttered as the German opened up on them again. Bullets ricocheted off the fuselage.
xi
Werner Klauber had joined the Imperial German Air Corps shortly after the Kaiser had announced the new policy: to build an Empire across the world and into the Void. Werner had wanted to go into the Void and he had been there. Just once.
He had been taken above the atmosphere and seen the earth as a ball below him. He had confronted the infinite black beyond filled with the pin-prick lights of crystalline stars. The constant sensation of falling without moving had filled him with a terror so intense it threatened to overwhelm him. It made him shake even when only a memory. He had known there were people that could not bear the Void and, with his comrades, he had laughed at them. He had not thought he would be one.
The only saving grace was that the terror brought out in him a great sickness of the stomach. Something that even afflicted those who did not fear the Void. As a result he was able to disguise the terror that stained his very soul. He hated his weakness. He could not work in the Void, but he became a pilot and funnelled that consuming hatred into a dedicated and murderous streak. He did not care who he killed in the service of the Kaiser—or indeed outside of it, either.
His temper was feared even by his comrades. That brought some satisfaction, though it did not assuage his failure. He worked as a man driven by the devil, even though that devil was himself. In piloting skills and in gunnery he excelled; he took risks and they paid off. His superiors did not like him, but they acknowledged his usefulness.
Harry Takes Off: Astounding Stories of Adventure (Iron Pegasus Book 1) Page 4