“You mean how fast we’re going in relation to the speed of the conveyor belt?” Jonathan asked. The master chief nodded. “Maybe five or six knots?”
“You’re guessing. But it’s a good guess. Come on.” The master chief motioned for one of the relief stokers to take Jonathan’s place.
Jonathan placed his shovel in a rack and followed the master chief into the turbine room. As the older man led him down the row of boilers, Jonathan unbuttoned the flap on his pocket and checked on Tinker. The poor rat looked bedraggled, so he grabbed a cup of water from the water bucket, splashed his face, then poured the rest into his pocket before he moved on.
The Hypatia’s propulsion system was ahead of its time. Three rotor steam-driven turbines each the size of five buggies back-to-back were lodged in the rear of the room. Pipes of various sizes ran into and around the machines as well as catwalks to service them. Relief valves were placed at the junctions where the smaller pipes met the large one that forced the steam into the rotor blades causing them to rotate. A copper tube protruded from the top of each turbine and disappeared into the bulkhead.
Jonathan listened to the steam hiss through the pipes over his head. The sound altered in pitch. “We’re going to be increasing speed. I can hear it.”
“Good,” the Master chief nodded then pointed to the copper tube. “You know what that is?”
“It’s the bridge command mechanism, which regulates the ship’s speed by changing the amount of steam flowing to the turbine,” Jonathan announced with pride. “My grandfather designed it, though I… ” He hesitated.
“What is it?” the master chief asked. Jonathan hesitated, shuffling his feet as a distraction. “Speak, boy. That’s an order,” he barked.
“I think there may be a flaw in the system,” Jonathan answered, avoiding the master chief’s gaze.
“Really? And what makes you so smart?” The older man crossed his arms and scowled.
“The copper tubing wasn’t meant to take the stress of the vibrations under full power. Because of that, the gears inside… you know the ones that control the amount of steam to each turbine… well, they could jam up. Get stuck. If that were to happen, then the ship would be out of control at full speed,” Jonathan lectured.
“You’re daft,” the master chief declared. “All we’d have to do is open the relief values to vent the steam. Then poof!” He snapped his fingers. “Full stop.”
“But not if—” Jonathan’s response was cut off by the high-pitched whine of steam rushing through the pipes.
The master chief frowned. He reached for a voice tube and put it to his mouth. “Bridge! Turbine room. What’s your status?” he inquired then put the tube to his ear. He looked grim as he nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand.” He replaced the tube and pursed his lips. “Seems your brother has decided to take a little high-speed jaunt around the harbor.”
“He shouldn’t be doing that. It’s not safe. Besides, he knows nothing about ships and how they operate. You have to stop him,” Jonathan insisted.
“Me? The only person who is higher than God and the captain on this ship is your brother. I have to follow his orders. Unless you can do something about it. Heh, laddie?” The master chief grabbed the voice tube and held it out to Jonathan, but the boy shook his head.
“You know I can’t do anything, Master Chief.”
“Then do your job. Back to the boiler room with you.” The master chief motioned for him to go back where they had come from.
As Jonathan headed back, the ship list in a tight turn. He grabbed the railing. “Master Chief!”
“I know, laddie, I know!” The master chief said as he grabbed the voice tube off the wall again. “Bridge! Engine room. What the devil’s going on?” The ship continued to list as the turn tightened.
Jonathan watched as the color drained from the master chief’s face. The older man slammed the tube back on the wall, then grabbed Jonathan’s arm.
“They can’t stop the blasted ship. We have to vent. Get Mallory and whoever’s next to him.”
Jonathan used the railing for balance as he ran back to the boiler room. He gathered up Mallory, Johnson, and a few others and headed back. By the time they arrived, the master chief was already working on one of the manual shutdown valves. Mallory rushed over to help him while Jonathan and the several crew members worked to open the other ones. The men used wrenches, crow bars and anything else they could use for leverage, but the valves refused to budge.
“They won’t move an inch, Master Chief,” Mallory cried out over the whine.
The older man narrowed his eyes at Jonathan. “Do you know what’s happening here, laddie?”
Jonathan nodded. “The turn jammed the speed-control mechanism, which caused the manual shut down valves to freeze.”
“Locking them up tighter than a virgin before her wedding day,” the master chief sighed then, grabbed the voice tube once more. “Captain, we’re gonna have to vent the boilers to stop the ship. What?” The master chief listened for instructions. “Yes, sir.” He dropped the tube and let it dangle from the wall. “Your grandmother’s giving him hell. Too bad your brother has sent us all there.”
The master chief stepped forward to address the men. “I want everyone out. You hear me? Now!” The men threw down their shovels and ran out, though Mallory and Johnson remained behind. “You can’t do this by yourself, Chief,” Mallory said. “You’re gonna need help.”
“I can stay. I can help,” Jonathan insisted.
The master chief gave him a sad smile as he put his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “No, laddie. This may go badly, and someone with better sense needs to be on that bridge. Go!” The older man shoved Jonathan out the hatch and closed it behind him. Jonathan heard it lock with a hard thump. He looked back for a moment, then ran out.
Jonathan raced up several decks until he reached the promenade. Breathless, he tried to be polite to the guests who shied away from the ash-and-grit covered boy. Even the officers yelled at him to get back below deck where he belonged, but he shoved his way past them and headed toward the bridge. As he ran across the deck, the ship listed to starboard so quickly and violently that Jonathan could barely grab onto a railing before he was thrown overboard. A few of the other passengers were not so lucky.
A huge gush of steam erupted out of the funnels. The ship righted itself, and the officers calmed the remaining passengers. Jonathan sagged in relief, thinking that the master chief and his men were not only alive, but had been successful in venting the boiler. Then he glanced out over the railing at the bay. They were out much farther than he’d thought and not slowing. Something was wrong.
To Jonathan’s horror, the ship shuddered and a burst of steam surged out of the air intakes on deck. He watched as the steam flowed over his feet like the life blood of the master chief and his men for there was no doubt in his mind that they were dead. Men burned alive when the boiler vented inside the engine room instead of up the funnels. Forcing back his tears, Jonathan remembered his orders and continued on to the bridge.
He arrived to find his grandmother screaming at the captain while Hal and his father stood back in shock. No one noticed him as he shoved one of the bridge officers out of the way to examine the boiler gauges. Twenty-five of the thirty boilers were at zero, but five were still running at full capacity. The ship had slowed to a mere fifteen knots. Enough to buy them some time, but little else.
“What is that filthy miscreant doing on the bridge? Have you no control over who comes and goes on this bridge, Captain?” his grandmother yelled at Captain Martin. A somewhat capable and portly middle-aged man, he had never faced a true emergency in his life, and his lack of authority over the situation showed it.
“Mrs. Weldsmore, we will get things under control. I’m sure the master chief sent the boy up to give me a message since I haven’t heard from him. Isn’t that right, boy?” The captain looked at Jonathan in desperation.
“The master chief is dead, Captain. Th
ey were able to shut down most of the boilers except for eight, ten, twelve, fifteen, and twenty,” Jonathan said as he pointed at the gauges. “The automatic stokers are still piling coal into the remaining boilers. So, we can’t stop. Can you turn the ship out to sea?”
The captain turned to the first officer. “Come to port, ten degrees.”
Beatrice stepped forward. “You’re taking orders from a common seaman? I’ll have you ousted from your post immediately.” She pointed at the first officer. “You, boy. You’re the captain now.”
“Sir?” the First Officer said. “I can’t turn her. And we’re heading for the seawall.”
“What?” The captain rushed over to his side and tried to steer. “Damn it! What’s going on?”
“When the steam released the rudder control probably jammed.” Jonathan replied. “It was the flaw I talked about at Father’s party.”
“Jonathan?” Charles hobbled forward on his cane. “Is that you?”
Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and stared at him.
Beatrice was the first to recover. “Of all the irresponsible—Who let you on board? How much did you pay them? I want their names,” she demanded, her voice becoming low and threatening.
“It was me, Grandmother. I arranged for it. I thought it would be in good fun,” Hal confessed, obviously thinking she would let him get away with it. He was wrong.
She marched over to Hal and grabbed him by the lapel. “Not only did you order the captain to full speed, you brought your brother on board as well? You fool. If we all die here, do you know what will happen? An entire House wiped out with no clear heirs?” Hal shrank away from her. “Some lowlife third cousin will claim the business, then the other Houses will fight it and the entire Eastern seaboard will end up in another House War.” Beatrice shoved him away. “Idiot. You’ve not only endangered our lives and your future wife, but the lives of everyone who works for us.”
During the commotion, Jonathan hadn’t noticed Adaline. She stood behind her father holding on to his arm. She looked scared, but her father was devastated. The mayor’s wife was slumped in a corner being fanned by her husband while various reporters scribbled in their notebooks.
“I never had any intention of allowing Jonathan on board this ship. Do you think I’m stupid enough to risk our entire family on one vessel? His little escapade at the party simply gave me a good excuse. And I thought it would force a little humility down his arrogant little throat.” Beatrice stared at Jonathan. “Well, boy. If you’re going to show us how smart you are, this would be a good time.”
Jonathan looked over to his father for support, but all he could give him was a small, encouraging smile. He had never seen his father look as fragile as he did now.
“There’s a conduit that runs next to the wires, which connects the automatic speed-control mechanism to the main steam turbine valves. Are there blueprints on board?” Jonathan asked.
The captain nodded to the first officer, who opened a cabinet and grabbed several rolls of velum paper. He handed them to the captain, who unrolled them on top of the navigation table. The captain ran his hand along the line that marked the conduit. “The conduit starts here, goes straight down and meets a junction of gears here and here.” His finger stabbed at the two points.
Jonathan leaned over the blueprints and placed his finger over the second junction. “That’s the most likely place where the conduit twisted enough to jam up the gears. If we fix that, then we’ll get speed control back.”
“Yes, yes.”Tthe captain nodded. “But we’d have to tear out a section to get to it.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” Beatrice demanded.
“Mrs. Weldsmore, take a look outside.” The captain turned and pointed to the approaching seawall out the bridge window. “We have maybe ten, fifteen minutes before we hit. There’s not enough time.”
“I know how to fix it,” Jonathan said.
“You are so pathetic, little brother. You really think you’re some sort of engineering genius, don’t you? We abandon ship,” Hal ordered. “Immediately. The family first, of course.”
“Mr. Weldsmore, we are going too fast to abandon ship safely. I’m sorry,” the captain answered, unable to keep his own fear and anger in check.
“Nonsense. I’m not staying on board to die like a common seamen.” Hal headed toward the door. “Coming, Grandmother?”
“Hal, you’ll die trying to get off,” Jonathan pleaded.
“I’m not going to die here. I refuse to….” Hal’s body trembled with fear. “Get out of my way.” He shoved a bridge officer aside as he bolted toward the door.
“Stop him!” the captain ordered.
Two officers grabbed Hal, who struggled against them then collapsed on the floor, sobbing. “I don’t want to die.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Weldsmore, but if there is any chance of saving this ship, releasing a lifeboat would be catastrophic,” the captain explained.
Beatrice looked at Hal with disgust, then turned to Jonathan. “Well?”
The captain put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Now, son. What are you talking about?”
Jonathan reached into his pocket and pulled out a soggy Tinker. She chittered when she saw the people and huddled in his hands. Jonathan backed away. “Tinker can fix the gears.”
“That damn rat! Sampson lied to me!” Beatrice moved to hit the animal, but Charles took his cane and shoved it in front of her waist, blocking her.
“Enough, Mother! If we’re to die here, you will treat my son as an equal or so help me God I’ll see you in hell.” For the first time in his life, Charles stood toe-to-toe with his mother without flinching or coughing. He gave Jonathan a nod. “Son, if you think the rat can do it, then you best hurry.”
“You’re going to pay for that, Charles,” Beatrice seethed.
“I already have. Now sit down and let my son work,” Charles ordered.
“We need to take off the top of the speed control. Tinker can enter the conduit from there.” Jonathan pointed to the device.
The first officer pulled the top of the automatic speed control mechanism while Jonathan grabbed a small oil can from a shelf and used it to clean and oil Tinker’s mechanical claws.
“Tinker, this is just like we did back in the workshop.” Jonathan placed her on the blueprint and ran his fingers along the conduit line. “I need string—no, wire.” Several officers scrambled about looking for spare wire, but could find none.
“Will this do?” Adaline said as she removed her corset and pulled out the copper wire that had been woven through it.
Her father was appalled. “Adaline! That is most inappropriate.”
“What’s inappropriate is dying, Father,” she responded as she yanked on the wire; her dress stuck out at odd angles. “Mrs. Weldsmore?” She challenged Beatrice.
Beatrice gave Adaline a look that could melt iron then plucked her corset off. “Mine is a mix of gold and bronze. It might be too soft.”
“It’ll do, Grandmother.” Jonathan helped her pull the metal thread out of her corset while the other officers helped Adaline.
Hal looked put out. “How dare you manhandle my fiancée!”
“Be quiet, Hal,” Beatrice snarled at him.
After Jonathan had gathered up the wire, he wound it around Tinker’s body and tied it up around her chest.
“Tinker. You’re going to run down the tunnel, squeeze though the gears, and come back. Just like you did before. Then you get a cracker.” Jonathan looked around. “Anyone have crackers.”
The mayor’s wife dug into her purse and pulled out a few broken ones. “They were for sea sickness. Give them to the rat, dear.” She handed them to Jonathan, who broke them up into smaller pieces.
Tinker chittered again as she grabbed one and nibbled on it. She reached for another one, but Jonathan waved his finger at her. “No, Tinker. Work, then cracker.”
Jonathan picked her up and carried her over to the conduit. H
e kissed her on the top of her head then placed her into the opening. Tinker dived in head first and vanished. “She can run down to the gear assembly, weave her way through the jam with the wire, then come back up. When we have the wire, we can use it as leverage to unjam the gears and regain speed control.”
For a while they could hear the pinging sound of her metal claws in the conduit, but as she got farther away, the sound disappeared.
TINKER WAS RELIEVED TO GET out of Jonathan’s pocket. She loved that nice cuddly spot, but it was getting hot and she had trouble breathing. But everything was good now. The boy kept those mean people away and she could set about her task as he’d taught her.
She scrambled into the copper conduit, her metal feet scraping on it. At first the tunnel went almost straight down, but then it leveled off into a nice easy descent. Every few steps one of her claws would skid, but her flesh-and-blood one could stick quite nicely to the side. The place smelled funny too. Not nice and clean like the hiding spot Jonathan had built for her.
The air got thicker and harder to breathe as Tinker got deeper into the ship’s bowels. Trickles of steam surged up the tube. She flinched at the heat but kept going. The walls of the conduit got hotter and began to twist. The ship shuddered, which loosened her grip and sent her bouncing out of control. Her flesh-and-blood forearm bent underneath her at an odd angle, and she squealed in pain. She stopped and flexed it. It still worked, but moving it hurt.
Tinker looked back to see if she could still see Jonathan, but all she saw was the wire trailing behind her. A little afraid, she continued on into the dark, steamy hole.
The conduit seemed endless to the rat. It was much longer than the tunnel she had gone through before and the heat was becoming worse with each step. Only her love for and devotion to Jonathan urged her forward. And the thought of a really big cracker.
Just when Tinker thought she would never get through the steam, she saw the jammed bevel gears. They were massive compared to the ones in the model, but Tinker could tell they were jammed in much the same way. She scampered her way up and saw there was just enough room to squeeze in one side and back out the other.
Boston Metaphysical Society Page 12
