Awakening above the clouds as the sun rose below, Richard thought he was at Heaven’s Gate unprepaired for Judgment. Then he realized he was in a hammock rocking along in a berth occupied by the three Theographers as well as a Russian officer, who were all up and about getting dressed, the officer in a Captain’s uniform, a Russian one with bearskin hat set with gold five-pointed star.
‘It is cold, my breath I can see from under these comfortable wool covers above which my head knocks so hideously!’
“Rest, Captain,” said the Russian. “Commander Levsky shall hold the briefing after dinner.”
He discontentedly swung gently in the hammock, gazing from his marsupial pouch out the window upon a world so high that birds did not venture under the clouds. He could make out the deep blue of the Atlantic, and by the sun’s position on his left determine that this airship was sailing south. Perhaps from a stateroom opposite this to his right—larboard, he reckoned—he might catch a glimpse of the Carolina Banks. Bing-Ham handed him a flask and assured him, “Green tea, ginko and birch extract, towards your recovery, sir. One of your men stands guard outside the door.”
Richard took the medicinal draught and fell back into fitful sleep, a great bell tolling in the church tower he and the last of his men were hold up in against the Mahdi hordes, the bell ringing with every musket ball that rang its tune…
*****
“Captain, Sir,” nudged O’Neal, “a briefing in the stateroom in an hour. There is an officer’s privy next door down here to the right, I have your dress uniform creased and laid out there, Blackie at the door.”
Richard looked up into the big, old, snowy mug and smiled, “Thank you, O’Neal. To it directly.”
O’Neal grinned, his point of chin offsetting the glint in his aging eyes, “Sir, you shall want to look your best—there is a lady aboard, quite, a figure of a lady. LaFano is already in the brig for looking at her thrice in the Commander’s presence.”
Richard sprang from the hammock, as much animated by the discipline of his brute footman as the prospect of adventuring with a LADY.
*****
Richard emerged from the officer’s privy, a small cold cell with sink, towels, mirror, and a toilet which discharged its contents upon the world below through a tube long enough to avoid defiling the aft deck. The schematics of the ship were presented on the wall, behind Blackie, between the starboard and larboard stateroom.
“Sir,” saluted Blackie Plimpton with utmost severity, handing Richard his sword, to which Richard declined, “Please behind my hammock. I cannot keep the thing from rattling with no left hand.”
A Russian Naval Airman, stood six paces for, before an aluminum and glass porthole door beyond which whipped cloud vapor. Another Airman stood 6 paces aft before another such door. Richard read the schematic. Both doors opened to the sky walks of aluminum frame that link this Officer’s Deck, with the Aft Deck and Main Deck.
The Aft Deck was equipped with ultra light Kalishnikov swivel rifles, one aft, one starboard, one larboard. These large caliber guns could not be shot from the shoulder as an elephant gun, for their lightness. They were mounted on spring swivels with optical devices. The Aft Deck was crewed by an Ensign and three Airmen, who resided there. This deck had a life boat, anchor and drop ladder. From it flew the Russian Flag. [1]
All decks were equipped with a rail walk.
The walk forward linked the Officer’s deck, which, as with all decks had a drop ladder and an inflatable rubber life boat, with the Main Deck. This deck was larger than the other three decks combined, housed the steam engine that powered the propellers on either side of the cabin, and housed the bulk of the crew who slept on the open, cold, aluminum decks. There were two away boats, a ten-man aluminum craft, for nautical enterprises. The steam engine that powered the propellers also acted in some fashion not understood by Richard, upon the Lift Deck above the Main, a small deck manned by special airmen regulating the lighter than air gas that filled the massive frame of the bullet-shaped balloon with its ether. And below this deck was a Brig, an unheated disciplinary box, where the lusty LaFano would be freezing his cods off.
The Foredeck was larger than the Aft Deck. The underside was exactly like the Aft Deck. The top side was the Bridge, where Richard would be headed for dinner and the commander’s briefing. Decks were linked by aluminum cat walks 10,000 feet in the sky, above the very clouds, and through the stark metal box of the Main Deck, upon which not a bit of artistry had been wasted in the habitation of the crew.
Clicking his heels, followed by Blackie, saluting the Airman who returned this salute and opened the light door for his passage, Richard walked out into the clouds, holding the manila rope rail as he walked along the aluminum grating for the catwalk, trying not to pitch overboard as this metal ropewalk swayed in the sky.
*****
The Main Deck entrance saw him greeted by the Captain, who saluted, “Welcome aboard, Captain Barrett. I am Captain Jones.”
The only insulation was the coats and kit hung from the aluminum walls. Naval cutlasses and carbines were racked on both sides.
Richard returned the salute and looked around. The men were shorter than normal, for the most part. One looked down into an optical sphere through a telescopic lens, obviously scanning the sky and below through refracted optics.
Jones keened, “Our right honorable optical, our chief advantage over British Naval arms, Nautical and Aeronautical. Yes, our grandfathers obtained the cream of the German Avionics Corp.”
“Richard looked at two small teams of Chinese men, on either side of the central boiler, two shoveling and stoking, and two turning a hand crank, like a pump for a nautical ship, but powering a bellows pointed upward. Again, Jones narrated, “The Chinese Coolie, the perfect industrial beast, powered by rice and born with bended knee.”
A burly gunnery sergeant motioned towards a side portal, which opened, to admit a stout sailor leading the shackled LaFono, who shivered and shrugged his shoulders. Again, Jones narrated, “Your footman nearly earned an execution leering thrice at Czarina Svetlana.”
“Czarina?” hissed Richard.
Jones nodded as LaFano was uncuffed and directed to warm himself by the boiler, to which he slunk, mumbling under his bent brow, “Sorry, Boss. Just scoutin’ matrimonial prospects fer ye—didn’ know she ‘as a Royal lass.”
Richard was aghast, and somewhat pleased, and expressed only the former, “LaFano, I shall be certain to tender your apologies to the Czarina.”
He was still wonder struck that the possible future queen of Russia was on such an expedition. He then looked to Jones, “And a Jones in Russian service?”
The man stiffened with pride, “Sir, the revolt your greatest ancestor put down by land was as well alive at sea. My revolutionary ancestor John Paul Jones, not only took a British frigate in fair fight, but entered the service of Czarina Catherine the Great as an admiral. Men of my blood have ever since been assigned to insure the safety and honor of the Czarinas.”
“Understood, as will I, on my Mum’s honor.”
A flash of genius possessed him, “Master Collier Plimpton, show these Celestial Chinamen how to shovel coal.”
Blackie was at it in a flash, having already spied a spare shovel.
“LaFano, you shall attend me, and swear your best rude apology to The Czarina.”
He then looked around and spied Pope and O’Neal and asked Captain Jones, “As we are in this together and expecting battle, I would like my driver, a good mechanic he is, and my young footman there to apprentice to their counterparts here adeck.”
Jones smiled wryly, “You are too transparent to offer this as a ruse to spy upon our Aircraft. Agreed.”
He then spoke in Russian to a midshipman and this fellow approached O’Neal and Pope while Blackie relieved one of the coolies.
Onward, past the saluting sailors, the burly and surly Irish doormen, the terrified printer and wonder-struck reporter, they marched, LaFano slouching behind him, rubbing life back into his low gnarly hands.
To be Continued in:
To Wit
Turns of Flight: Interlude
Notes
-1. Beginning in 1946 this red device was emblazoned with a black bear wearing a gold Christian Crown, its right paw holding down a blue planet. Military flags had, in addition, the martial star of five point, in gold, or rather brass.
