Harry Takes Off: Astounding Stories of Adventure (Iron Pegasus Book 1) Page 8

  Harry could see the workshops Khuwelsa had spoken of. They were dark without any sign of life except for a line of smoke rising from the one at the nearer end. What if Khuwelsa had been arrested?

  Some of the soldiers had torches and were quartering the open space. The glare from the light spoilt her night vision and she had to blink away the spots.

  If it stopped her from being able to see properly in the dark, it must do the same to them. Who would be crazy enough to go straight into the midst of the search?

  Apparently she would. Harry crept from her hiding place. Keeping low and moving in fits and starts, she headed directly across the lawn towards the workshops. She kept checking the progress of the different groups. Whenever one turned in her direction she flattened herself against the ground.

  Sometimes she crawled. More than once a group of soldiers would pass so close that she could see their lights reflecting on their faces.

  For a long time it seemed as if she was making no progress. But the workshop slowly grew in size and the palace diminished behind her. The concentration of the search moved away, further round the building. The fact they had not found her apparently made them think they were looking in the wrong place. More troops were being concentrated on patrolling the outer fence.

  Harry’s heart lifted. It seemed like she was going to make it to the workshop. She counselled herself to continue at the same rate. To make no assumptions. To keep her eyes open for any possible threat. But somehow she could not take her eyes off the building ahead. The great double doors stood wide open. Inside was an even deeper black. The smoke trailing from the interior rose grey against the black, star-filled sky. Somehow it made her think of a dragon’s cave.

  The grass ran out and her fingers rasped on stone and gravel. She realised it would be nigh on impossible for her to cross this part of the yard without making a noise. She could hear the soldiers’ boots crunching in the distance.

  She reached down and slipped off her shoes, which were more like slippers suitable for walking around in a palace if one never stepped out into the real world. But she would need them to pilot the Pegasus, if her bird was going to fly.

  Harry pulled up her skirts and rose into a crouching position. She took another look round. There were no soldiers closer than two hundred yards. If she did not take the risk she would be stranded here until dawn revealed her. The workshop was no more than twenty yards, just a few seconds.

  She rose up so she could walk in long low strides and stepped out into the gravel. It cut into her feet as she took stride after stride. A figure stepped out of the workshop, tall and erect.

  “That is quite far enough, Fraulein.”

  xx

  Harry felt like weeping. She had come so close. But she did not weep. She stood up straight.

  The man stepped towards her. He wore a German uniform. As he emerged from the shadows the gun he held became apparent.

  “You and I both know the sultan is a fool,” he continued. “He thinks that your boats will not fire on the palace because you are here. He thinks there is some kind of honour in war.

  “But we know differently, don’t we?” He paused for dramatic effect. “We know they will attack, and I knew you would try to reach your vessel in the vain hope it had been repaired.”

  Vain hope? Had Khuwelsa not fixed it? Where was she?

  “You are wondering where the Schwarze is? It seems your faith in her is misplaced.”

  Harry’s heart leapt. He didn’t know where Khuwelsa was, which meant she was still free. Harry noticed an increase in the amount of smoke flowing from the workshop and took a step backwards.

  “Where are you going?” he laughed and followed her. She kept backing until she reached the grass and decided that was far enough. He stopped too.

  Keep him talking. “What are you going to do with me?”

  “I will take you out of here and return you to your father, of course,” he said. “I am not an animal. You are just a girl. You are not part of this war.”

  “I took down one of your planes and blew up the bridge to slow down your troops.”

  “Really? In that sad little construction?”

  “Yes.” She gritted her teeth at the insult.

  He bowed. “I am impressed.”

  “And I’ll do it again.”

  “One antiquated machine against the military might of the German empire? I am afraid I do not find myself—”

  Light poured from the interior of the workshop and the Pegasus roared as her propeller spun up to speed. Harry was blinded for seconds and then as her sight adjusted she saw the wings twist and beat. Inside the canopy she could make out Khuwelsa at the controls.

  Harry’s hand went to her mouth: Khuwelsa wasn’t very good at this. The propeller screamed at a pitch higher than Harry had ever heard before, the wings gave a massive thundering beat and the Pegasus leapt upwards. She erupted through the roof of the workshop. Harry saw what was coming and threw herself to one side as the Pegasus came crashing down to earth, with pieces of the workshop clattering in all directions.

  The German officer climbed to his feet, his gun trained on Harry. In the bright light his face was twisted in anger. To Harry’s horror he fired. She felt the bullet tear at her clothing as it passed through.

  In slow motion she watched a piece of the workshop come tumbling out of the sky and strike the propeller. The voracious rotor shattered it on impact. Shards flashed in all directions. The German screamed and fell to his knees, a length of wood protruding from his leg.

  Two long whistles pierced through the noise: Ready to go! Khuwelsa was at the hatch holding it open. “Stop dilly-dallying!”

  Harry ran to the ship and grabbed Khuwelsa’s hand, transitioning to low gravity as Khuwelsa pulled her inside.

  She fairly flew to the pilot’s chair and landed in it, as Khuwelsa slammed the hatch and dogged it firmly. “Let’s get the hell out of here, Harry.”

  “My pleasure!”

  Above the noise of the furnace and the generators she heard bullets pinging off the fuselage. Through the front screen she could see the soldiers gathering in ordered lines. An officer had taken charge; they were preparing to fire. Harry opened up the power to the propeller. The pitch of the spinning rotor screamed even higher. Harry did not pause; whatever Khuwelsa had done, it was good. Harry could feel the extra force at her disposal.

  She beat the wings carefully once, just to get the feel. There were slight differences in the way they felt but nothing significant. She beat hard and fast; each thrust took the bird up. The powerful new propeller accelerated them towards the palace faster than she expected. The wall was coming at them. She backwinged with an air blast that knocked the soldiers on their backs.

  The nose of the Pegasus came up and they shot skywards with plenty of room between them and the palace roof.

  Harry checked the compass and saw they were heading east. She soared round to the north, the fastest route to the sea from the palace. Not bothering to gain any more height she headed out to sea. The city fell behind. Zanzibar Island was a dark mass to their right.

  She maintained the course for less than a minute before turning towards the mainland. The needle of the airspeed indicator was pushed hard over against the pin. They were travelling at over one hundred miles per hour already.

  “Like it?” said Khuwelsa in her ear.

  “What did you do?”

  “They had a lot of very nice equipment just lying around the place. I improved the pressure seals, added new gearing on the rotor train, and the new prop is beautiful.”

  “Just what we need.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We need to stop the German airships.”

  “We do?”

  “Our side doesn’t believe us and we’re the only air power round here.”

  Khuwelsa sighed. “Silly me, I thought we might just go home.”

  “And leave Dad?”

  “Fair enough,” said Khuwelsa. Harry adjusted c
ourse more to the east so they would intercept the coast. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Land on the coast, have a sleep, head south before dawn and catch them napping.”

  “Catch them napping? Good plan.”

  xxi

  They had managed four hours’ sleep. The constant crash of breakers on the beach had become a lullaby when they had lain down to sleep. They had woken to seagulls screaming.

  In the cold pre-dawn light Harry splashed sea water on her face and tasted the salt. Sea birds were diving into the surf and rising again with their prey. The beach stretched for as far as she could see both north and south, curving away into the half-light.

  She turned and walked up the gently sloping sand. Smoke was already pouring from the stack as Khuwelsa got steam up. Harry admired the work her sister had done on the front of the Pegasus. The new glass allowed her to see forward and down. Looking up through it she saw Khuwelsa, half her body lit up by the furnace, already in her apron over her underclothes.

  The fact she could see in so easily meant other people would be able to as well. Harry’s feet and ankles would be on show. They would have to see about some sort of curtain and modesty panel. She could imagine how Khuwelsa would react to that comment after working so hard to replace the metal. Perhaps, Harry considered, she should see about wearing men’s clothes when flying. There would be definite advantages.

  She swung up into the cabin. What she wouldn’t have given to be back in her proper clothes and out of this ridiculous thing from the palace. And the sandals were terrible for flying.

  “Ready then?” said Harry.

  Khuwelsa’s very serious face looked back at her. “As ready as we’ll ever be.”

  They had discussed the options. They had no armament of any sort beyond some knives and cutting equipment. And the Pegasus itself. Their options were limited but they had no choice.

  Harry hesitated. This might be their last chance to say anything important to each other but her reserve was getting in the way. Khuwelsa saved her the decision. She simply walked over and hugged her sister.

  “I love you, Harry.”

  “You too, Sellie.”

  “‘You too’, Harry? What is that supposed to mean? Mrs Hemingway would not be impressed.”

  “You know what I mean.” Harry reddened with embarrassment.

  “I know,” said Khuwelsa, gave her an extra squeeze then released her, and stood back.

  “Is she hot?”

  “Raring to go.”

  Harry smiled. “Let’s do it then.”

  They turned from each other. Khuwelsa went to the furnace and Harry to the pilot’s chair. She ran through the pre-flight checks quickly. Tested the pressure, flapped the wings tentatively. The Pegasus responded with precision. Harry nodded to herself.

  She gave one long whistle, paused and engaged the Faraday. The loss of weight was comforting. She engaged the drive and the low thunder of the furnace was drowned out by the increasing whine of the propeller. Two long whistles and a count to ten.

  Harry pulled on the controls; the Pegasus responded with a powerful upbeat. The nose lifted. Harry stroked hard and they lifted in smooth steps. The propeller pushed them forwards, and soon they were soaring.

  Before Khuwelsa had added the lower window, Harry had always taken care to fly at a safe height as it was impossible to see what was immediately ahead. But now the coastline raced beneath them as Harry flew as low as possible to prevent the sound of the engine carrying too far ahead.

  Harry steered a course as straight along the coast as possible, but at the speed they were going sometimes they found themselves over the sea, startling seagulls out of the sky, or crossing inland as some promontory stuck out into the water.

  The terrain flashing by was exhilarating. Khuwelsa came forward and became mesmerized by the ground rushing past. Rivers and streams appeared ahead and then were gone. Startled gazelles, elephants, wildebeest and giraffes had no time to flee as the flying monster was upon them and then passed just as quickly.

  Harry and Khuwelsa had no real idea where the Germans had set up camp. It seemed unlikely they would have gone far south because they would want to reach the coast as close to Zanzibar as possible. Additionally, the large towns to the south would be able to send messages to the capital.

  At their speed of something well over one hundred miles per hour (Khuwelsa could not determine exactly how much over) it did not seem likely they would need more than an hour to reach the German camp.

  And so it was that forty-three minutes later by the chronometer, they sighted a dark blob against the brightness of the rising sun: a Zeppelin already several miles out to sea heading towards Zanzibar. Half a mile behind it a group of three more Zeppelins was rising into the air.

  As far as she could see there were no fighters.

  Not yet.

  “Are you ready?” said Harry, turning to Khuwelsa. Her sister nodded and went back to the furnace.

  Harry focused on the vessel ahead. It was flying at about five hundred feet. And it was a monster. The massive gondola, almost as big as the balloon envelope, carried major artillery. Harry whistled four times and pulled back on the control feathers. The Pegasus climbed smoothly.

  There was a chance they had not been seen; after all, no attack was expected.

  She levelled out at two thousand feet. They were overtaking the leading Zeppelin fast. It was probably making less than thirty knots. There was a puff of smoke from one of the guns on its side, and then a line of explosions along the entire length of the gondola.

  Harry had no sense that they were under attack. If any of the shells had come close, she did not see or hear them. Within moments the angle was too high for the main guns; they were safe from those, but not from the smaller weapons mounted along the top.

  It would have been too much to hope that the Pegasus could have attacked without any response from the enemy vessel. In a strange way Harry was glad, because shooting fish in a barrel seemed a dishonourable way to fight. Assuming Khuwelsa’s idea would work.

  Harry felt the air pressure inside the cabin change as Khuwelsa removed the temporary repair she had made over the damaged fuselage.

  Two short whistles, one long. It was a new code: Attack dive. Harry banked the ship and pushed the controls forward.

  The Pegasus responded and nosed into the dive.

  xxii

  Harry could feel the wings vibrating through her fingertips. She pulled them in so there was less resistance to the air. Unlike the time when she had simply switched off the Faraday, this dive was fully controlled: like falling through water.

  Still the Pegasus had been moving swiftly enough when the dive commenced, and with fifteen hundred feet to go there was plenty of time to build up a powerful velocity.

  At each end of the Zeppelin was a gun turret. Harry was not worried about the further one. She was aiming almost directly at the rear one that was spewing shell after shell in their direction. She had heard her father’s friends talking about the pom-poms, quick-firing small-bore artillery. If just one of those shells ripped through the fuselage, their attack would be over.

  She prayed they would miss.

  * * *

  Khuwelsa held the bucket in her gauntleted hand. She could feel the heat coming off it despite the leather. She had rigged a harness around the hole in the wall of the ship so the buffeting of the dive did not cause her to spill the contents.

  The noise of the wind increased in volume and pitch, drowning out the thumping of the engine and the scream of the propeller. The smell of burning tar filled her nostrils.

  The modifications she had made to the front view meant that from her position she, too, could see the approaching Zeppelin. It was terrifying. She could see only the imminent prospect of a collision. But she trusted her sister.

  She saw Harry pull back on the controls and felt the inertia driving her into the floor. As if on a signal, she hauled on the bucket, lifted its bottom and poured the content
s from the ship.

  Boiling hot tar (along with screws and bolts, which until a few minutes ago had been roasting in the furnace) slipped from the bucket. Already travelling at perhaps a hundred and fifty miles per hour, and then subject to the natural force of gravity, the burning liquid rained down on the balloon, spreading out across a wide area as it did so.

  Khuwelsa gave one short and one long whistle, then hung on tight. Harry pushed gently on the left control and the Pegasus rolled to the right. It slipped sideways as it passed the top of the Zeppelin and slid away from the bulk of the balloon. Khuwelsa could see the fabric of the envelope shooting past them, so close that if Harry extended the wings they would touch it.

  They flashed past the decks of the gondola. For the briefest moment she saw the astonished face of a sailor as the Pegasus dropped.

  Harry opened the wings and they decelerated. She flew beneath the Zeppelin hoping to confuse their artillery and escape before they could open fire.

  The propeller screamed and the Pegasus leapt forward like an eagle in pursuit of a flamingo. Khuwelsa shook herself to release the tension, detached the bucket and headed back to the furnace to fill up.

  * * *

  Harry tore the Pegasus round in the tightest circle she dared, losing speed and altitude. They had come out on the port side below the Zeppelin, but she needed to get away from their guns.

  With the propeller at maximum she stroked hard to get their speed back up.

  She had no idea whether their improvised weapon had done any damage at all. Modern military Zeppelins used helium instead of hydrogen, so there was no risk of it going up in flame. All she could see above them was the dark underside criss-crossed with the Faraday mesh. If only they had some way of destroying that.