Sarah sounded embarrassed as she pleaded, “Let me help you, please.”
“You already have. Goodnight.”
Nathaniel turned and tapping his cane gently on the wall, he reached the back door. With a leap of faith, trusting the carriage would be where Ben promised it would, he strode forward, holding his cane just in front of him until it made contact with a wheel. Reaching out, he felt a large canvas sheet. He worked his way to the rear of the carriage and with one hefty pull, uncovered the vehicle.
“My God, what on earth…” The gasped voice of Sarah was behind him.
Nathaniel felt her grasp his arm, heard her intake of breath. “I am assuming that you are admiring my carriage. Quite a feat of engineering, is it not?”
Nathaniel moved to the front of the carriage, which was harnessed not to a horse but to a mechanical man. He felt its crouched frame, its clockwork body. He smelt the oil from its numerous gears and felt the warmth of the stored steam in its arms and legs. The rivets on the torso were as cold as the night air.
Momentarily lost in his admiration for the automaton, Nathaniel snapped out of it, realising he needed to leave and meet up with Ben. Hastily he turned to Sarah.
“Get out of here,” he hissed, “I have to leave.”
Nathaniel heard Sarah step back, the gravel crunching beneath her boots. Then her perfume wafted toward him as she came near. He held her wrist and felt her pulse quicken.
“Yes, we both have to go. Your friend has been captured. They are taking him now, to go and see this hooded fellow, I warned you about.”
Nathaniel breathed in, “This is no place for a lady.”
Sarah pulled her arm from his grasp. Nathaniel felt her finger poke his chest as she spoke. “I can see I need to educate you. This is no place for a woman, blind man or anyone but needs must. So I won’t strike you again, if you stop acting a fool and follow that.”
Nathaniel felt the air ripple in front of him, sensing that Sarah had moved her arm upwards. Her voice was impatient. “Well, what are we going to do?”
“My lady, forgive my rudeness but my eyes do not work so well in this light, or any light for that matter.”
There was a brief silence. Nathaniel surmised that Sarah was realising her mistake. She spoke softly, “Sorry. It would seem that we each need to educate ourselves a little. Your friend was taken to the roof.”
Aghast, Nathaniel raised his head. “They are not going to throw him off, are they?”
“No, there is an airship waiting. He is being transferred to it. They are untying the anchor ropes now. We must hurry and follow it.”
Nathaniel was unsure what to do. He turned one way and then another, having completely lost his bearings. “Um, right, yes, uh, follow that airship!”
“How?” asked Sarah.
Nathaniel found the carriage and climbed in. He heard the rustle of material as Sarah gathered up her skirts, quickly alighted and sat beside him. Fumbling in a pouch in front of his knees, he found a number of cards.
Each had holes in different patterns on them and at the top of each card there were a series of raised bumps.
Nathaniel rubbed his fingers over the bumps.
“Trés bon!” he declared. “I do love the French. Forward thinkers, you know.”
Sarah sounded confused. “You are not making any sense.”
“Braille my good lady. Genius, those French. Absolute genius.”
Nathaniel carefully read which card did what. “Now, I need your eyes to let me know which direction the airship is headed.”
Nathaniel felt the carriage lurch to one side. He knew that Sarah was leant over, looking out. “I would say they are heading over Redcliff, toward the River Avon.”
Nathaniel thought for a moment. “An airship is likely to dock down by the warehouses then.”
He quickly fumbled through the punch-cards. Finding the required one, he placed it in the receptacle, in the rear of the automaton. He quickly felt the gauges between the shoulder blades of the mechanised man to confirm he was both wound and pressurised. Ben had ensured it was set to go.
“Best sit back and hold on.”
Nathaniel listened, as the whirring and clicking automaton rose from its crouched position. Slowly, at first, it began to march forward, pulling the carriage, strapped by a harness to its waist. The crunch of individual steps soon became one continuous noise as it gathered pace.
“This is incredible,” Sarah gasped. “You are a miracle.”
Nathaniel raised his voice over the metallic barrage of noise. “Not me, I’m afraid. My good friend, Benjamin.”
Sarah sounded stunned. “But he’s…”
“Tsk, he is an amazing man, a brilliant engineer and possibly dead if we do not get to him in time.” Nathaniel was growing more and more concerned for his friend.
“Watch out!” Sarah cried.
The automaton came to a junction. At the last possible moment it turned the corner and carried on down the street. Nathaniel considered being blind an advantage right now. The good fortune was that he was able to relax, and not worry about near misses or plummeting into anything until it actually happened.
“How?” was all Sarah could manage to say.
“Later, right now keep the airship in sight. I think I know the general area it is headed but I need to be sure. I only pray that Ben is alright.”
On the airship above, Ben coughed and spat blood on the floor. He’d got the ledger alright but had not foreseen a romantic liaison stumbling in on him. Cue one woman’s scream, one man tripping over the breeches around his ankles and suddenly, half a dozen men had piled in, grabbing Ben.
He managed a smile to himself, as he thought of the four he’d knocked down before the wine bottle to the back of the head had knocked him cold. Awake now, he was slightly disappointed they’d used such a poor vintage.
He was bound, with his hands behind his back and his ankles tied to his wrists. He’d been conscious for a few minutes and had already loosened his ankle ties and was working on his wrists. Curious as to exactly what was going on, he chose to play the helpless victim for a time and wait and see where this would lead.
He knew he was airborne; it was a gusty night and the ship was being buffeted. A small vessel, used for short flights, he surmised. He would not have long to wait to see where, and to whom, he was going to be delivered.
Voices from inside the ship and below told Ben that they were at their destination. He felt the ship strain at the anchor ropes. The crew were talking up ahead of him.
A cockney accent called out, “That’s as low as we’re going to get in this wind. You gents will have to go down the rope ladder.”
The reply came from a well-spoken gentleman, clearly from Bristol, but amongst the upper classes, “And what about him?”
The cockney replied, “Chuck him out. Their sort bounces.”
Ben made a mental note to punch the cockney, if he survived the fall.
Two men came over to Ben and roughly dragged him to the door which led out of the airship. Stretching his legs, Ben snapped his ankles free and kicked out. The two men fell back, not helped by the wind making the ship swing.
Ben was up on his feet and looked round to see the obviously posh one pull out a knife. Behind Ben, a stout man with grizzled features blocked the doorway.
“Easy there, young fella, it’s out the door or stay in here and get stabbed. Which one are you fancying?”
The voice was that of the cockney.
Ben looked him up and down and smiled. “Do you bounce?”
“Eh?” was all the man managed, as Ben leapt straight at him, bringing his knee up to the man’s chin. Blood and a few teeth spurted out of his mouth as he flew back out of the door. The fall did not last long as the man fell straight down, with Ben standing atop his chest. The landing was hard. You could tell by the loud crunch of broken ribs. Ben, having surfed atop the cockney all the way down, rolled uncomfortably away as they impacted the ground. His wrists we
re still tied behind him so he could only try to roll with the fall. His right arm cracked loudly as it broke. Ben was grateful it was not worse. The cockney, as it so happened, did not bounce. He still groaned, but there was most definitely no bounce.
Ben got to his knees. Around him there were chaotic scenes, as the men holding the anchor ropes stood shocked at what they had seen but unable to let go of the ropes and get to him.
His broken arm enabled Ben to slip out of the rope binding him. Not without almost fainting because of the pain, but he was out of his constraints.
He tried to clear his head and get his bearings. He was outside a warehouse, in a courtyard with a high wall surrounding it.
There was a ‘click’ sound, as Ben felt a pistol placed to the back of his head. He managed a look out of the corner of his eye to see a hooded man, before the pistol was pressed harder against his skull.
The man with the hood spoke, “Eyes forward.” The voice was muffled by the full-face hood but Ben could hear every word dripping with malice. “Get on your knees. Do you understand me? Speak English?”
Ben nodded and gingerly slipped to his knees. His shirt was ripped from the fall, the scars from the lashing he’d had as a boy were now visible. The hooded man ran the muzzle of his pistol over the welts. “I see we shall not be the first to remind you who your superiors are.”
The voice made the hairs on the back of Ben’s neck stand up. His blood ran cold and the smell from the man was a pungent, rotten odour that turned Ben’s stomach.
“Normally I would stay and question you, as to why you wanted my ledger and even more, who it was intended for. However, I’ve places to be, so I will leave it to my associates to elicit a confession from you.”
Two men grabbed Ben from either side. He cried out in agony as his broken arm was pressed behind his back.
“Wonderful”, said the hooded figure, “now you know where to begin torturing him. I want to know who owns him. Once you have the information, kill him.”
Ben gritted his teeth. “I work for no man, I am owned by no man. If I die, another will take my place and then another, until your kind are either stopped or dead.”
The hooded man rasped as he sniggered beneath the mask. He leant forward and whispered into Ben’s ear. “I cannot be killed, not by the likes of you. Compared to you, I am a God. You are nothing more than a gnat. When I have the information I need, when you have fully experienced pain beyond belief, then, if I am a gracious God I will swat your life away. You should pray that I do, because my associates here will introduce you to the most exquisite kinds of pain.”
Ben shuddered; he tried not to physically show it but the voice carried such deep malice that only a fool would not take the threats seriously.
The men either side of Ben lifted him to his feet and turned him around, just in time to see the back of the hooded man walking towards the airship and begin ascending the rope ladder. The wind had calmed for a moment and he quickly reached the top.
Beneath, the men holding onto the anchor ropes awaited the command to release the ship.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash to their right. As the cloud of dust and steam faded, an automaton strode forward through a portion of the wall, now smashed. Ben smiled to see it towed behind it a carriage, carrying both Nathaniel and Sarah.
Some of the men cried out in terror, not knowing what manner of beast approached them. Of the eight holding the anchor ropes, six quickly let go and ran and dived into the river. The two men holding Ben pushed him to the ground and drew pistols. One shot, then another, each simply rebounding off of the automaton’s torso. The men had time enough to look to one another before a wooden plank swung from behind them, knocking them out cold. Ben dropped the plank atop their prone bodies.
The automaton stopped, and Sarah led Nathaniel across to Ben. All three turned to see the final two men left struggling to hang onto the airship. The wind had picked up again and they fought to keep themselves grounded, let alone the small airship.
They looked up to the open doorway, to see the hooded figure intently staring at them. He was gesticulating wildly, he seemed frantic. His fury almost sent him tumbling out of the hatch. Both he and another man held rifles and began taking shots at Ben, Nathaniel and Sarah. Their shots were erratic; the wind buffeting the airship played havoc with their aim.
Nathaniel stood below them, bemused, blissfully unaware of what was happening, save for the noise of gunfire. Sarah grabbed his wrist and pulled him to cover behind the carriage.
Ben hurried across to the automaton and unhitched it from the carriage. Two foot plates folded down from behind the upper thighs of the machine. Ben stood atop the plates, his torso showing above its head. Opening a hatch between its shoulders, Ben used his one good arm to quickly make some adjustments.
The automaton walked underneath the airship. Ben jumped off the machine and the foot plates sprang back into place. The machine crouched now. Ben slowly walked backwards. Watching, waiting, all the while shots continued to echo overhead.
With an almighty hiss of steam and a groan of metal, the automaton launched itself up into the air. The airship, roughly twenty feet above, was the target. It may well have hit the balloon but another gust of wind saved the ship from the metal behemoth. Instead the airships port side propeller took the hit, as the soaring machine smashed through it.
Ben stood watching, as his creation soared weightless for just a moment and then plummeted towards his position. Barely in time, Ben, got out of the way. The automaton lay in a small crater, its head dented and an arm damaged. Ben and the machine in that moment reflected injuries. Ben made a mental note to work on landings, both for his automaton and himself.
Above him the airship was blowing away. The two men still hanging onto the ropes had been lifted into the air. Their grip only held out for a few moments before both splashed into the cold waters below. Without the propeller, it was at the wind’s mercy.
“Ben!” cried Nathaniel. “What on earth is going on?”
Ben could not answer as he stared hard at the increasingly distant airship.
“Ben, answer me. Are you alright?”
Sarah answered for Ben. “He looks alright, Nathaniel. A broken arm, some cuts and bruises, I think.”
Nathaniel reached up to Ben’s face. “Come on Benjamin, will you tell me what is going on?”
Ben took Nathaniel’s hand. “I’m fine. I didn’t get the ledger but I met the power behind it.”
Nathaniel noticeably calmed. “Who was he?”
Ben looked out at the airship, barely a speck now, drifting into the distance. “I’m not sure, I didn’t see his face. His voice, it was muffled but it sounded so full of hatred.”
Sarah interjected, “I forgot to tell you, there was one other thing about their leader I found out.”
Ben and Nathaniel turned to listen to her. “No one has seen his face. He apparently does not use a name, but I did hear my Father say something about his right eye once. I thought it silly at the time, or that maybe I’d misheard. It’s not easy you know, listening with a glass against the wall to a bunch of misogynistic old fools. It makes my blood boil. These people, they call themselves upstanding Christian…”
Nathaniel reached his hand up to her lips. “I don’t disagree with a single word you have said but the leader, the hooded figure. You had something else to tell us.”
“Oh, yes, um, sorry. Anyhow, no one has seen his face but they can see his eyes and Father was telling someone how he felt sure that embedded in his right eye, well, it seems daft…”
Ben looked up and spoke flatly, “A small cog.”
Nathaniel gasped, “No. I — I thought him dead.”
“What? Who? Who are we talking about?” asked Sarah
Ben moved off toward the automaton. “I think we need to prepare. We are going to meet again and next time I want to be ready. I want an army of these things.” He patted the automaton.
Nathaniel stood beside him. “We mig
ht need to recruit some good men to our cause too. I think we are a little outnumbered.”
“And women!” Sarah stated.
Ben grimaced but spoke determinedly, “We have right on our side.”
Sarah sighed, “Will you tell me what is going on? Let me help you organise ‘our’ troops, and I think I should become your spy or something exciting like that.”
Getting no reply, Sarah decided to broach this subject again later. “First things first, let’s get Ben home and his injuries treated. Assuming that mechanical thing is still working?”
Sarah touched Nathaniel on the arm. “Lord Craddock?”
Airship Shape & Bristol Fashion Page 27
