Revenge of the Mad Scientist (Book One: Airship Adventure Chronicles) (6 page)

The man caught the coin in midair as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of a hall that ran behind the bar and then continued clearing empty glasses from the tables.

“Thanks, mate,” Sam said as they hurried in that direction.

Rett pulled a pistol from his pocket as they crept down the hall to the back of the building. The storeroom held barrels and bundles stacked against the walls and a bolted door to the outside. He motioned with one hand and Sam lifted the wooden bar that held it shut. He slowly opened the door, then heaved a sigh of relief. The way was clear. Rett returned his pistol to the holster on his hip.

Sam followed him into the darkness through the foot high snow as sleet pelted them both in the face with icy pellets. Rett struggled over the snow drifts, his tall leather boots not entirely blocking out the cold. They edged their way around the building, feet crunching in the snow. Down the street, the group of trappers waited by the front of the lodge, several holding cudgels, and a few with their big mountain knives out, silver blades flashing in the moonlight.

“This is bad,” Rett whispered and his breath fogged in the air. “We need to go around that next building to get back to the hanger.”

“Got any ideas?” Sam leaned back against the rough log building. “There’s a good fifty feet between this building and the next one. They’ll be sure to see us if we run across.”

“Yeah,” Rett said, and turned around, pointing to the woods behind them. “Be a good fellow and break us off a couple of those small pine trees.”

Sam gave him a quizzical look, but went over and grabbed the base of one of the sturdy little trees with his mechanical hand. He twisted his wrist and the wood snapped. He let the tree fall in the snow and went to another for the same procedure.

“Now what?” he asked when he finished.

“Look, we know those guys are drunk which means they’re not seeing things too clearly. So we’ll hide behind these trees and move across to the other building a few inches at a time. It’s dark and the forest is behind us, so hopefully they won’t notice.”

“Right.” Sam raised a brow, but he bent over and picked up one of the trees and held it out in front of him. It reached about a foot over his head, broad and bushy around the middle and base.

“Let’s go,” Rett said and stepped sideways out into the open with his tree in front of him. The group of men about a hundred yards away remained focused on the door, grumbling and brandishing their weapons against the backdrop of mounds of pristine white snow. Rett was thankful the streets were empty at this time of night in the village of Topol. He’d be indoors if he could, too. It was too damn cold to be out unless you absolutely had to. But the trappers were used to the harsh environment and well protected in their heavy fur coats, hats and boots.

He looked beside him and Sam moved out with his tree as well. They inched slowly across the snow, stopping every foot or so if one of the men glanced in their direction. They finally reached the other building and went behind it.

“I can’t believe I hid behind a bloody tree,” Sam grumbled. “It’s humiliating.”

“Don’t knock it, you’re still alive,” Rett said. “Now let’s go get
Gambit
into the air.”

They hurried past the building and across another barren snow drifted area to the large round topped hanger. There were three airships in it at the moment along with
Gambit.
Rett cursed their luck at suffering a broken regulator and losing all their precious concentrated helium. Without a spare onboard, the blizzard had pushed them into this God-forsaken place yesterday where they were forced to land. What rotten luck!

“Look, Darby said he’d stay until midnight, so we should be in luck. It’s fifteen till now,” Rett said as they kicked away the snow accumulated in front of the hanger’s door and pushed it open.

Inside, muted music broke the silence of the massive room, accompanied by the squeak of ropes on the airships, and the creak of wooden gondolas. Inflatable behemoths floated above their heads with their tether ropes tied to stakes in the ground.

The smell of oil and coal in the chilly building overwhelmed Rett’s nostrils as first. Despite the two large furnaces at either end of the room, his breath came out in white puffs.

They strode across the floor to the area where
Gambit
floated. His heart swelled with pride whenever he gazed on his airship. The bronze colored, well oiled, inflatable canvas glistened in the lamplight of the hanger. The gondola, shaped like an old galleon, hung below it, fitted with ornately carved wood and brass ornaments that made it seem a work of art to him. But the ship represented more than beauty, she was freedom. He gritted his teeth. He would do anything to make sure nothing happened to her. They had to get to Eagle’s Peak and pick up that cargo.

His mind drifted back to when he left home at twenty-two, searching for freedom and running from an arranged marriage his parents were forcing on him. It took five years as a hired hand, saving every coin he could to be able to buy his own ship.
Gambit
wasn’t brand new, but since he bought her three years ago he'd spent all his profits from cargo runs to fix her up. Then when he met Sam after he lost his own ship, the savvy engineer had made additional modifications that made her one very fast vessel.
Gambit
, his one and only girl.

He cursed their misfortune in losing a fortune of silk cargo belonging to Baron von Setter a few months ago as a result of a pirate attack. Because they hadn’t had money for insurance the Baron was owed the price of the cargo. So far they hadn’t raised it and the Baron was running out of patience, threatening to take
Gambit
if they didn’t deliver. Rett was desperate. He knew it would tear his heart out if he lost her.

Darby worked off to the side, attaching a pulley mechanism to a gangplank on one of the crafts. On the bench beside him an odd contraption like a large music box with a complex mass of turning wheels produced the tinkling sweet sound of an old waltz.

“Hey, Darby. We’ve got the money for the regulator and the helium fill.” Rett walked forward.

The older man looked up from his work and grunted, a short, fat cigar drooping from his lips. “It’ll have to be coin, I don’t hold with those gold and silver slips they use in the big cities.”

“Good, that’s what we have.” Rett counted out the twenty gold pieces and handed them over to the hanger owner.

“Alright, then. Here’s your replacement.” Darby walked to a work table at the side of the room and took the heavy bronze regulator out of a box. “Been waitin’ for you to come back all evening.”

“Thanks for staying. We’ll get this installed and then fill up the tank so we can get out of your way.” Rett handed the piece to Sam who lowered their gangplank and hurried aboard.

“You planning to head out tonight?” The older man squinted at him through a cloud of cigar smoke.

“Yes, as soon as possible. I have a cargo in Eagle’s Peak that should have been picked up yesterday, but we got blown off course by that storm.”

“Well, there’s another storm on the way, so be careful. Had a dog-sled runner from the south in this morning and he said the storm is supposed to hit just about dawn.”

“Damn.” Rett looked up at his beloved
Gambit
. He hated to risk her in another storm, but they had to get out of here before the trappers figured out they escaped the bar. And that cargo wouldn’t wait on them forever.

He ran up the gangplank and found Sam in the engine room using his mechanical hand instead of a wrench to take off the old, faulty regulator.

“We need to hurry,” he said.

Sam gave him a disgruntled look.

“I know, I always say that.” Rett grinned. “But seriously. We don’t want to be snowed in here with the bad boys of winter on our heels.” He pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through sandy blonde hair that hung down to his neck. “Darby says a storm is coming. We need to make Eagle’s Peak by dawn or we’re in big trouble.”

“Well then, pick up a wrench and make yourself useful,” Sam said. “Start loosening the bolts on the new one so I can slip it on as soon as this one is off.”

Thirty minutes later, the new regulator was in place, and Darby had filled their helium tank and given them a new load of coal.

“I’ll open the hatch,” Darby called as he pulled the rope to raise their gangplank. “Let me know when to release the tethers.”

The older man stumped over to the side of the building and rotated a large wheel. The chains of the mechanism clanged as the hanger hatch above them slid open.

“Let’s get this bird in the air,” Rett called. He ran back to the raised aft deck and stood ready at the piloting station. Sam used a lever to open the helium tank that would bring their inflatable back to the concentration needed to rise in these frigid temperatures.

“Let ‘er fly,” Rett yelled down to Darby and he released the lines from the mooring rings.

Gambit
began to rise just as a commotion rose from outside the building. Yells and calls heralded the arrival of the angry trappers.

“Hurry, they got our money,” came an angry growl.

“They’re getting away, stop them,” yelled another.

Rett pulled the lever back and angled the fans down and set them to high speed. He called down to Sam, “Hold on.”

The ship shot upwards just as the horde of angry mountain men roared across the floor of the hanger, shouting and brandishing their weapons. A few jumped to catch a tether line, missing by only inches.

The brass knob on the lever vibrated in Rett’s hand as the ship shuddered with the precipitous assent.

“You’re gonna blow the engine,” Sam’s yell rose from the engine room below him.

Rett struggled to ease back on the handle, but the controls had developed a mind of their own and fought him. He gritted his teeth and threw his weight behind the leverage with both hands.

Finally, after several agonizing minutes when he thought they were done for, the ship leveled out and the fan control moved smoothly back to a neutral position. He no longer heard the raised voices and his altimeter showed they had risen several hundred feet in a matter of seconds. He drew a hand across his brow where sweat had formed despite the sub-zero temperatures. He took a deep breath and the clean, cold air seared his lungs. Fortunately the engine room kept the snow melted off the deck and exuded a small amount of heat.

Sam crawled up the ladder from the engine room and stuck his head above the floorboards, his face pale and eyes wide. “What the hell were you doing?”

“Saving our skins. Sorry, the assent got a little out of hand.” Rett grimaced. “Is the engine okay?”

“Barely.” Sam climbed the rest of the way out and closed the hatch behind him. He leaned against the rail of the aftcastle and wrapped his arms across his chest. “You leveled out just in time. I thought the pressure gauge was going to explode.”

“Now if we can just get far enough south before this new storm hits, maybe we can pick up our load in Eagle’s Peak.” Rett pulled his goggles down over his eyes and flexed the hand that had been gripping the handle. “I’ll need my heavy gloves and some coffee if you don’t mind. It’s bloody cold up here and my head feels like a ripe melon ready to pop open.”

Sam grinned, then nodded and went down the steps to the main deck and the cabins below where the galley was located. He returned a few minutes later with the gloves.

“Coffee will be ready in a few.”

Rett pulled on the heavy fur lined leather gloves and buckled the straps around the wrists. It took a minute for his half frozen fingers to warm up. He wrapped his woolen scarf around the lower portion of his face to block the wind.

“How much money do we have left?” Sam asked as he checked the ropes that held the gondola to the inflatable. And then made an adjustment to the rudder pulley.

“Just enough for a good meal in Eagle’s Peak. But when we get the cargo payment we’ll be in good shape again. We’ll pay off the Baron and be in the clear.”

“Hmm, well, I guess it’s the best we can hope for given the circumstances,” Sam said. “I thought we’d bought it when that regulator went bad in the storm.”

“So did I.” Rett checked the compass and made an adjustment to their course, then looked up at the dark sky around them with wisps of clouds sailing by. Half a moon gave off a silvery glow that glittered across the clouds. “We’d better get out lights up.”

Sam grunted and they both went down to the main deck to light the navigation lamps that hung on the side rails. In the front, the lanterns had the traditional red globes on the right side of the ship and green globes on the left. The aft lanterns were clear glass.

Bitter cold air bit into any body part not covered, and Rett adjusted his scarf to envelop his face more completely. When he returned to the pilot station, Sam went below and retrieved two large mugs of steaming coffee. He handed one to Rett and both men wrapped their gloved hands around the warm cups.

“Drink it quick, it won’t stay warm long in this weather.” Sam chuckled.

Rett gave a half smile and raised the mug to his lips. The scalding coffee spread welcome warmth through his limbs and the pounding in his head subsided to an irritating peck. His heart finally slowed to a normal rhythm and he began to hope everything would be okay. If they could just make Eagle’s Peak before the storm hit, they had a chance of making a good profit on the cargo run. He eyed the sky, but in the darkness and clouds there was little visible past half a mile ahead.

He glanced at Sam, glad to see his old buddy had recovered from his fright over the steam engine. Rett didn’t take his concern lightly. Sam was the best engineer in the business as far as he was concerned. He used to have his own ship until it was hit by another airship and went down off the coast of Jenta. He’d lost a hand in the accident, but at least he was alive. Now he had the mechanical hand, which in some ways served his purposes better when it came to maintaining the big steam engines and helium tanks on an airship.

A hint of moisture swept across Rett’s face and the wind suddenly changed course. He turned the wheel to adjust the rudder to the new direction. A shiver ran through him. Those were bad signs and he knew they meant one thing, a storm was coming…a big one.