“As long as Dora stays safe,” Edward finally agreed.
Dora balked, but acquiesced. “Then it shall be I who makes the first suggestion of how to solve our problem,” she said. “We have to gather up as many creations…”
“Oh just call them monsters, Dora,” Peter interjected. “I made them, yes, but they are not like the other animals.”
“Very well, we have to gather all the monsters we can and destroy them.”
Peter wanted to object, but he knew not destroying them in the first place had been the wrong choice.
“No chest, then,” he said. “We will destroy them or be destroyed.”
Dora held out her hand, palm down. Peter knew what she was doing—it was a game they played as children. He placed his hand on hers and Edward placed his on Peter’s.
“All for one!” Dora said.
“And one for all!” the men replied.
“But there is still the small matter of how we will find them,” Edward added.
“We have a flying ship, don’t we?” Dora asked.
“Yes we do, we do indeed. And I may have a way for us to find the monsters,” Peter replied.
They talked for many hours, not only about their quest, but also about the past and their hopes for the future until Dora’s eyes began to droop.
“I think we had best get a good sleep tonight. We have much to do tomorrow,” Peter said, pulling Dora to her feet.
“We’ll walk you to your room, my Lady,” Edward told her. Then to Peter whispered, “And I have the perfect name for your airship.”
Peter smiled at Edward for the first time in years. “It is a splendid name indeed.”
Peter sat at the drawing board. Already the floor around his worktable was littered with crumpled paper. Several designs were pinned to the wall. These he covered whenever Dora came by. They were to be a surprise. He took the pencil from behind his ear and hunched over one last sketch. It has to be this one.
The door opened. Peter jumped, expecting to cover his designs, but it wasn’t Dora.
“Edward, you startled me. I don’t want Dora to see these yet.”
“Peter, you look like hell.”
It was true. He was so obsessed with creating the perfect ship for Dora and making his own dream ship come to life he neglected to bathe, or even to shave, and comb his hair. He always obsessed with his work, but this project was different. He forgot to eat and had not slept for at least two nights. His eyes were red and sore.
“I must look like a madman.”
“You always look like a madman, but now you look”—Edward tilted his head one way, then the other—“inside out.”
Peter ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. I feel inside out. Dora shouldn’t see me like this. “Where is she?”
“Who?”
Peter only just realized he was half thinking and half talking. “Um… sorry. Where’s Dora?”
“She has a lesson with Diana,” Edward replied, making motions as if he was pulling a bow.
Ever since the Stymphalian attack, Dora had insisted on learning to shoot. Diana, who agreed to teach her, had even supplied her with a fine bow and quiver of arrows.
“She’s getting quite good, you know,” he added. “How is the ship coming along?”
Edward looked over the welding project, which was no further along than when he had delivered the empty chest.
“I know,” said Peter. “But look, I think I finally have a suitable design.”
He smoothed his last sketch and stepped aside, so Edward could see it. Peter moved a lamp closer and began pointing out the details.
“These wings are purely ornamental. I can’t make them flap like a real butterfly, but the gossamer cloth will help lift the ship when winds prevail. The boiler, which produces the steam, will be located here.” Peter circled the compartment aft and below a first deck with his pencil.
Edward remained silent except for an occasional, “Hmmm. Uh huh.”
“And this”—Peter circled another area—“will be the bridge, and this is our quarters, a kitchen, and this”—Peter produced a second drawing showing details for the larger quarters below deck—“this is our Dora’s room.”
His brother whistled this time. The drawing of their sister’s quarters had been fully colored. Her walls were painted like a beautiful forest. Her bed, canopied like a tree. The ceiling was like the night sky. It was everything she would love.
“Unlike the wings, the body of the butterfly—the hull—is functional. You see here, in the bridge area… we have large windows where the eyes would be. The antennae will function as extra navigational devices. I shall work on those next. The boiler sends steam to the engines here and here.”
“Peter.”
“And here…”
“Peter!” Edward snapped his fingers in his brother’s face.
“What?”
“Just how long will it take for you to build this”—Edward bent over the dimensions his brother had scribbled on the page—“fifty-six foot, two-decked vessel?”
“Oh, not long once the design is finished. All we need to do is sew the wings—Dora can do that—and assemble the materials. We’ll need some carpenters for Dora’s room, and… well… about six months I’d say.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
Peter stepped back from the table. “Are you going to tell me you don’t like this design?”
“No, I love it. Dora would love it too. But we don’t have time to wait. Diana will tell you when she brings Dora. There have been… sightings.”
Sightings? Peter picked up the sketch. Edward was right. He had become ridiculous. He lost track of why they were even working together on the ship—that they would be journeying—and he had no money. Peter began stacking his drawings.
“I’m sorry,” said Edward. “I really am.”
When Edward took the waste bin and started throwing crumpled papers into it, Peter knew he was sincere. This was perhaps the first time Edward and he spent in the workshop actually working together.
“You’re a good man, Edward.” Peter placed a hand on his brother’s uninjured shoulder.
Just as the last sketch was placed neatly in a portfolio, the door opened and two high voices lifted the mood in the room. Diana and Dora almost floated across the floor in their excited chatter.
“Oh, Peter, Edward, you would have been so proud of me. Wouldn’t they, Diana? Tell them what I did.” Dora hugged her brothers, her face beaming like the sun, as Diana told the story.
“Well, yes, she was brilliant. This is only her third lesson, you know.”
Edward motioned for Dora’s bow and inspected it.
“Well?” Peter asked.
Edward nodded his approval.
“We practiced for one hour today. That bow suits her perfectly. Not too hard for her to pull, but with enough weight to do some serious damage if need be.”
“Oh, get to the good part!” Dora giggled.
“All six arrows straight into the bull’s-eye.”
“Really?” Edward asked.
“Outstanding,” Peter said.
Dora grinned from ear to ear, “I did!”
Peter turned to Edward, “Don’t we have things we need to be doing?”
“Oh, I am sorry,” said Dora. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work. I was just so happy.”
“It’s understandable,” Edward said as he placed an arm around her waist and gave her a little hug.
“And how is it with you?” she finally asked, turning first to Edward. “Have you purchased all the supplies on our list?”
Edward released Dora and shuffled. “Not quite all, um, purchased. But we’re in good shape with supplies.”
Peter knew what his brother meant. Purchase was the wrong word for what Edward had been doing. Commandeering was a better term. Peter suddenly envisioned they might be better off with a pirate ship. And Edward meant that while he was gathering supplies, Peter was daydreaming. And he w
as right. I’ve been a fool.
“And you, Peter?” Dora kissed his cheek, restoring his presence.
“Well, sister, I have good news and bad news,” he said.
“Good news first, always.”
“Very well. I have a working design and the ship can be ready within the week.”
Now Edward scowled. Dora clapped her hands.
“It’s true, Edward,” Peter said. “You were… right.”
“And the bad news?” Edward asked.
“It will be a simple, functional ship.” Peter’s face softened as he spoke to Dora. “We do not have time for the lovely one I had hoped to build for you, my sweetheart.”
He expected Dora to pout, but she only shrugged and kissed him again, “It’s all right. We have to go soon, don’t we, Diana?”
Now the huntress, who had been standing quietly, allowing the siblings to work out their plans, spoke up.
“Yes, I’m afraid I have bad news of my own.”
Remembering his manners, Peter suggested they go to his quarters where they could sit. They had all been so busy, and it was teatime after all. The three followed Peter as he motioned them toward the shadowed door. He brought up the rear, tossing the portfolio in a cubbyhole as they passed. After they were all comfortably seated and the tea served, Peter took the chair facing them.
“Now, please, Diana. Forgive my interrupting you, but this feels better.” The others nodded as they sipped. Much better. “Please, tell us what you have heard.”
Diana placed her cup on the table next to her archery gloves—she had forgotten to put them with their equipment by the door. She leaned forward, her voice almost a whisper.
“The first news came five days ago. A man in Southampton was attacked while plowing his field. It seems a swarm of creatures—”
Dora spoke up, “Peter says to call them monsters, don’t you Peter?”
He nodded, patting her hand.
“Very well, then,” Diana continued, “monsters. They say they looked much like bees, but nobody had ever seen bees like these before. They burrowed under the man’s skin, making large boils. When the boils burst, the crea… monsters turned on other family members. The doctor managed to capture one. I tried to get him to give it to me, but he said he wanted to study it.”
Edward moved closer to Dora who had tipped her cup, allowing tea to spill onto the carpet. Peter stood and walked a few steps toward the window.
“Is there more?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m sorry to say. But Dora is trembling, are you sure you want me to continue?”
“It’s all right,” Dora said. “I have to get beyond this. We have to know.”
“Please, go on,” Edward said, and Peter agreed.
“There are other birds like the one in the forest.” Diana paused and fixed eyes with Edward. “Flocks of them.”
Now Dora interrupted. “How can that be? There was only one that I saw and it was so small. You remember, Edward, I asked you how it got so big.”
“That’s true, Peter. We did only see one, and it was small until it attacked us.”
Peter’s chest tightened. He placed a hand over his heart and gathered a deep breath.
“It… I… I have to think. I don’t know. I…” His usual thought processes weren’t serving him now. “I just don’t know. They shouldn’t grow…”
They’re reproducing?
“I made one and when it went wrong, I stopped and put it in the chest.” Peter ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s all I know. This isn’t good.”
Gods help us.
“But I must tell you the worst,” Diana said. “Sightings have increased, and reports have spread from farmers’ fields to the streams, and who knows where else. Someone saw a pack of doglike creatures roaming the hills and several cows and sheep have been mutilated.”
The streams especially troubled Peter. If the monsters could fly and also take to water, they could travel anywhere.
“Me and my need to invent. Can you forgive me?”
“Peter, you didn’t know,” Diana said.
“I’m as much to blame,” Edward reminded him.
Dora looked up under her eyelashes. “I love you, Peter.”
Peter’s eyes burned. Will Father ever forgive?
There was much to do and the day was getting late. Diana and Dora took care of their bows while Edward discussed final plans with Peter. Before going back to his apartment to get some rest, Edward offered to see the women safely home. Peter worked through the night.
Diana’s news was like a fire under the stewpot.
Peter left his dream behind and based the airship on what he’d already started building. It was enlarged to accommodate two extra passengers—Edward and Dora. Diana could not, and would not, leave Zeus, especially now.
Because the ship was smaller than Peter’s grand design, it would hold fewer supplies than he had hoped. The three siblings limited their list to the basics—food, water, weapons, and protective gear. Peter also required a few things for a small laboratory below deck. Once they found the monsters, he might need to create ways for destroying them, and he had to be able to replicate Zeus’ Fire—the green fuel that would add a punch to the steam engine. While it had given off noxious fumes when it spilled on his worktable, Peter assured Edward that he made improvements and the fumes would be odorless. He had also found a way to make it in putty form, which Edward agreed might be useful.
Dora continued to practice with the bow, but Diana traveled back to Olympus before she was too missed. While her bow and knowledge of the hunt would have been appreciated, it was also true that her feet on the ground could help them all. Diana promised to spread the word to those she said, “Know how to do battle.”
Their parting was difficult. Dora and Diana had become almost like sisters. Peter was sorry to see her leave as well—she continued to be their eyes and ears. Seeing Diana off was perhaps hardest on Edward. After walking Diana to her carriage, Edward returned with a glow on his face and lipstick smeared on his lower lip. He finally got that kiss. For the first time, he admitted to himself and his siblings that he wasn’t just flirting with Diana, he actually loved her.
Their day of departure was one week later than Peter had anticipated, but the ship was ready to sail. The three decided it would be best for them all to stay in Peter’s quarters for the last three days and nights.
Dora did what she always did—took care of everyone else first. She made sure they had a good, hot breakfast. They didn’t know when or if they would get another, even with the small potbelly stove onboard the ship. She also laid out their travel clothes—riding boots, leather gloves, goggles, canvas overcoats, helmets. Diana had tried to convince Dora to wear men’s trousers, and while Dora thought they were splendid on Diana, she decided they weren’t for her. She chose for herself a khaki split skirt.
While Dora was dressing, the men loaded the remaining supplies onto the ship. Edward threw in an extra coil of rope and helped Peter with the chest. This time it held twenty vials of Zeus’ Fire and ten bricks of putty.
“You know,” said Edward, “I’ve been meaning to ask where you got your first supply of this stuff.” He wasn’t sure he should ask, but he was getting almost as curious as Dora about their brother’s work.
“Let’s just say I named it that for a reason.”
“Oh,” Edward said, “did you create it?”
“Only what’s in this box.”
He stole it! Edward was shocked, surprised, and even a little moved by his brother’s activities. Edward was also a bit worried, since their father seemed to have known more about the problem than they realized. Surely he knew about the fire. Edward had a whole new respect for Peter and for the chest’s contents. Mr. Perfect Peter, not so perfect.
Edward checked to make certain the ship’s name was covered with canvas, just as they had planned. Everything was ready. Peter’s newest creation—twenty-six feet of copper hull covering a wicker structure—w
as on its scaffold. The boiler had been fed earlier and Peter was already inflating the balloon that would lift the ship. Dora emerged all decked out in her gear. The men—not so much. Their goggles sat on of top their heads, they wore their usual everyday clothing, and the rest was stowed.
“Why aren’t you ready to go?” she asked.
“We are,” Peter called from the deck where he directed hot air from a large leather hose into the balloon, “but we have to be able to move quickly until the ship is out of the building. Those coats are… well… cumbersome.”
“They are a bit uncomfortable,” Dora said, “but it feels adventurous! Really…”
“You know,” said Edward, “I’ve been thinking about this whole thing.” The ship rocked while the balloon was being inflated. “I don’t think I want to get into that thing.”
Peter wasn’t listening as he turned up the fire for more hot air.
“Edward, stop being such a prig,” Dora said as she climbed the stairs to the launch platform.
Prig? My sister, whom I adore, called me—not Peter, me—a prig?
When she was onboard, Dora leaned over the rail. “How will you protect me from down there?”
As always, she was right. He had to go. He had no choice. “But wait, Peter and I have a surprise for you!”
There was no time to unveil or christen the ship. The workshop doors flew open just as Edward walked up the stairs to take Dora’s hand to lead her to the back of the boat and show her their surprise. It was Diana, out of breath, and with an arrow nocked.
“You have to take off!” She turned toward the door, and back again. “Now!”
Peter, aware that something was terribly wrong, pushed a button on his newly made controller, and the roof over their heads began to stack like a lady’s fan.
Edward heard what sounded like a buzz saw at a mill. He started down the stairs toward Diana, but seeing him, she shouted again, “Don’t. Just go. Go now!”
Diana disappeared back out the door, slamming it hard behind her. Edward was torn—help her or get in the ship. Dora and Peter called for him to hurry. Edward ran up the stairs and was just stepping over the rail into the ship when one of the doors to the laboratory crumbled to dust.
Gears of Brass Page 5
