by Jeffrey Cook
We are shortly planning a new journey to visit Dr. Mitchell, for he has not visited in some time, and the last time he did, just the short trip proved most taxing to his weakening constitution. Miss Wright, who now travels with us each time we make the trip, is especially worried. She has become closer to Agnes than the rest of us, and has admitted that the housekeeper does not believe Dr. Mitchell will long survive our trip away from this land, but has fully invested himself in seeing that we have every possible chance in the journey to come. Though I can hope, for the sake of a man's life, that she is wrong, in truth, I think it might be a mercy on the man's unhinged mind to go from this world to the next in peace. I have seen people in worse physical condition make full recoveries, but always under a physician's care and rest.
Dr. Mitchell continues to throw himself into his tasks with a manic passion. Were he in England, he would likely now be institutionalized for his own safety. He has proven no threat to anyone yet, at least. When not at work, he conducts himself with a quiet reservation and all the manners that would be expected of an Oxford man. No one who has not seen him motivated by some new project or technological venture would imagine there could be anything wrong with the man beyond visibly failing health.
Now past the holiday season, and with hints we will be away soon, the Captain has thrown himself into every project that he is permitted. This is his way of recovering, it would seem, now that he is through the worst of the prolonged mourning period that so often accompanies the loss of a companion of so many years. I am uncertain that he shall ever be the same man he was, but now when among men of his generation, he is back to spinning his tales with passion. He now includes several more among his repertoire of tales describing how his saintly wife advised him away from ruinous paths.
He has also recovered enough at last that he has begun allowing at least one thing I can still imagine Mrs. Fisher frowning on – permitting Matthew to begin caring for and carrying his own Baker rifle, his gift from Eddy this past Christmas. Though there has been some discussion of eventually upgrading it to be more the equal of Eddy's own, the mechanisms and cylinders require such care that this has not been permitted yet. Even so, Matthew has been understandably excited about finally having a rifle of his very own.
From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,
January 27th, 1817
33º51' S 151º12' E
The first ship in some time has arrived. This time it is not a vehicle of convicts, but only carries free settlers, mostly Catholics loyal to the Pope over the King. The rest are former American colonists seeking a new start elsewhere. It seems each new arrival carries more horror stories of the difficulties of surviving. Some farms have been abandoned entirely, and many people have moved west. Others have traveled to Europe in hopes of finding a new life there.
Relations with Spain have been interesting as well. Florida has been ceded in its entirety to England so the Spanish can concentrate on the rebellion in their main territories – and to try to bribe England into some kind of neutrality. The Crown and Parliament watch both sides in the Spanish conflict with interest, and wait to see if either will entreat them for some help in the conflict.
England's resources and manpower have both been severely taxed. In fact, with the influx of country folk into the city seeking work, there is some talk of restoring the slave trade in order to make sure that the farms of England and its colonies remain in full operation when better growing conditions have been restored. Still, there is no shortage of tactical, mechanical, and economic aid England might be able to offer either side should England be offered the right incentives. Additionally, pressing slaves into service with promises of freedom certainly worked well in the past, and should England re-enter armed conflict, this would be another cause to restore the trade.
This is most vexing. England made some progress by banning the trade, if not the ownership of slaves, a few years past. This reversal may well succeed, via arguments about the importance of feeding our people and of England's preparation to take any opportunity for expansion. Indeed, two years ago, before I ever saw up close the disruption of foreign and primitive but very human lives, I might have dithered much more in the face of such an argument myself.
Though faint, there are also stirrings in the world of politics that conflict with Russia may be coming. That nation had its own difficulties with Napoleon for a time, and it certainly has its own struggles with its neighboring countries. Nevertheless, it did not suffer the losses some nations did in the Napoleonic Wars and is demanding some notice on an international level. It is fortunate that England lies so far from Russian territories, for England is not in any condition to fight another sustained war now – especially while it is missing some of its greatest weapons and heroes. I am certain now that I shall shortly return to spending a great deal of time worrying about what is happening at home while we have no news available to us, even while we are facing difficulties of our own.
Locally, Sir James has advised all of the men of our crew to go about armed, and he keeps the bridge of the ship guarded at all times. He has quietly admitted that he no longer trusts Mr. Franzini or his men until such time as we outnumber him again. No open threat has been made, and Mr. Franzini shows every intention of wishing to be with us when we set out again. However, he has been overheard talking of his station aboard the ship in grander terms than his service merits, and rumor claims he has agreed already to payment for a number of his closest associates to travel with us as additional engineers and mercenaries.
Even if Franzini himself can be talked down, these are hard times. With a difficult local autumn and winter anticipated, there is a lot of doubt that violent men who have been promised payment and transport out of Australia will take kindly to being denied both of these things.
From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,
February 6th, 1817
33º51' S 151º12' E
I write now to maintain something of my sanity and composure, and so that, should I perish in the eventual conflict – or of starvation – there will be an accurate recounting of the events of the past day and a half.
As I write this, I am trapped aboard the bridge of our dirigible by Giovanni Franzini and his fellows. Captain Fisher and his nephew are with me, and only the twelve shots we could muster between the three of us has dissuaded the other men aboard the ship from storming the bridge. They are as trapped as we are, however, with their only realistic escape now being to take the airship. Eddy, Sir James, and much of the town await them now with significant arms, kept back both by hope for our continued well-being, and the threat that Franzini has the means to destroy the dirigible entirely should they attempt to storm the ship. Mr. Franzini is well aware of our group's capabilities and methods, so they are being most cautious about any approach.
We were in the midst of testing the ship's readiness for takeoff, so it was aloft again, with Dr. Mitchell and Miss Coltrane temporarily away after the doctor had a severe coughing fit. The Captain and Matthew remained aboard, under Sir James's thoughtful orders that we maintain a guard about the bridge at all times. Dusk was fast approaching, and I was in my room, awaiting Sir James's return from an evening talking and drinking with some of the men of the town. I did not hear the window open, or any intrusion, but it must have happened, as I was suddenly grabbed from behind, a hand over my mouth that I could raise no alarm.
Though I struggled, my attacker was stronger than I, at least from that angle. Then I heard Miss Bowe's harsh whisper telling me to keep quiet. I settled on realizing who it was. She informed me that there was no time to explain, that Franzini was and had ever been a traitor, and finally that I needed to get to the ship and warn the Captain as quickly as possible while she warned the others.
Trusting Miss Bowe far more than I trusted Franzini, no matter how she came to be in my room, I ran to the ship as quickly as I could. I do not know if we just happened to be there the night they were planning the operation, or if my haste to get
to the ship somehow tipped them off. The sudden ruckus that followed in my wake certainly informed me that they had us under watch, and I had been seen. Not long after I had reached the bridge, Franzini and several of his men followed. Had Sir James and the rest arrived only a couple of minutes sooner, we might have cut them off, though even that would have brought about quite a battle in the streets here. They arrived too late, though by the time Franzini and his new friends had made it to the dirigible, the Captain, Matthew, and myself were all well armed and barricaded as best we could manage on short notice in the bridge area.
With only one way on or off of the vehicle, they cannot exit without making themselves highly vulnerable to the considerable crowd that has gathered on the ground, but likewise, no one can easily make their way up. Having sighted Miss Bowe, they have already made most clear that the ornithopter must remain on the ground and in sight or they will assume they will be coming under assault soon and take appropriate measures. Likewise, they are trying to keep both her and Eddy in clear sight, with only the expected necessities being given any time away. The pair of them have had to set up camp not far from the dirigible in plain sight.
Because of such possible threats, the area where we set down was clear for some way, a fact which now works to our disadvantage.
For the time being, we are safe. We have three of us here, so someone can always be awake and on guard, and there is plenty of space where we cannot be seen from beyond the short hall and stairway leading up to the bridge while being able to hear almost any intrusion coming. This leaves us with one clear disadvantage in this standoff, however. With the run of the rest of the ship, save perhaps the well-secured and locked workshop, they have access to our supplies of food and other stores. The three of us have plenty of guns and ammunition, but almost no supplies that will last long at all. In the day and a half that has passed since this standoff began, we have gone through much of the water supply we had on our persons, mostly in the form of the Captain's supply so he could stay at the wheel for longer periods when needed. While I do not doubt that the Captain and I could hold out for some time, I worry for Matthew's health. While a hearty and healthy child, he is still a boy.
I am uncertain if Franzini is truly desperate enough to be willing to destroy the airship with all aboard if pressed or not. If so, there is plenty of black powder in the stores, so we have to assume that the threat carries at least some weight. They have also assured the people below that they have someone with them now capable of piloting an airship, so they do not need the Captain, though they would prefer he surrender rather than die. Knowing Captain Fisher as well as I hope I have come to, I am certain that would normally not happen, but after losing his wife, I have no doubt that he will do what he feels necessary to save the life of his ward. Thankfully, Matthew is a willful child, and I know he will answer that he is doing well, holding out for absolutely as long as he is able to.
From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,
February 6th, 1817
33º51' S 151º12' E
We have established some basic communication with the ground at last. Matthew has proven capable of climbing out of one of the windows without drawing notice to himself. So far, trying to get him to the ropes that he might climb down has been thought too much of a risk, though he has suggested it as worth a try. Should worst come to worst, he has a method by which he might escape before the ship is entirely set on fire. We take a significant risk each time, for should one of Mr. Franzini's men be outside any of these times, they would see him easily. This is possible, as they know they cannot come under fire so long as they hold us and the ship hostage. Still, the feeling of being so exposed to so many armed men has proved daunting enough so far that he has not yet been discovered.
We have so far used this solely to get messages to the people on the ground to assure them we are alright, and so far are holding the bridge. We also have given them our willingness to trust any plan they might come up with, and attempt to do our part. They have been more limited in their ability to communicate back, for too large a message on the ground might draw notice from Franzini and his men, and gravity aids us far better in sending messages down than it does in their communicating any type of message up. Still, we have to hope that they are even now devising something, because the last of our water is gone, and we have not eaten for over two days now aside from a few trifles Matthew had on his person, which we let him have. He is holding out bravely, but he cannot hold out much longer, and the Captain, in addition to thirst and fatigue, is growing more and more worried for Matthew's safety the longer we remain here.
So far, we have resisted all of Franzini's entreaties to surrender, including his statements that he will allow the rest aboard and relinquish command to Sir James, so long as he is permitted to follow his plans of reinforcing our numbers in case of further adversity.
Even were we not well past that point in hostilities, we are already well aware of Franzini's tenuous relationship with truthfulness when it doesn't serve him. We also know he would not allow anyone who poses a threat to him to travel with us. He likely does have someone among his number who could pilot the ship, should it come to it, or he would not have attempted such a coup, but likely not so well as the Captain. His men are also well aware of our firepower here. Should they storm the bridge, we stand no chance whatsoever, but we have given them every reason to believe we are quite prepared to take as many of them with us as we can before we go. The barricades in front of the door to the bridge – and the necessity to enter the bridge one man at a time – give us a great chance of doing significant damage to their numbers and capabilities should it come to it.
At this point, I am finding myself with hatred enough towards the Great Giovanni Franzini as to think it might even be worth some injury, at least, for the opportunity to shoot him down. The current circumstance has also opened up to both the Captain's eyes and my own that Franzini may well have had some hand in releasing Miss Larkin, and taking voluntary injury upon himself in order to avoid our fight with the Maori, which would also make him complicit in Mrs. Fisher's death. That thought alone, I am sure, puts the Captain in a similar frame of mind to my own.
From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,
February 7th, 1817
33º51' S 151º12' E
Nearing the end of how long we could hold out, we are finally free. Miss Coltrane informed Miss Bowe and the rest of hidden crawlways on the airship. She had used them to keep her secret when she needed access to the battle suit while troops were aboard. This, it turns out, is the cause of the faulty root locker and the hallway so narrow that Miss Coltrane ended up in her underwear – there used to be entrances and secret passages in places which have since been genuinely converted into spaces for practical purpose and accommodating a larger number of people aboard the ship.
Using this, during one of her designated rest breaks, Miss Bowe and a pair of former sailors, a Mr. Carver and Mr. Heller, were able to scale the frontward mooring ropes to get aboard. Somehow, they managed to convey this to Matthew, and he indicated we should be ready. We prepared to storm the rest of the ship as soon as our captors were distracted in the hopes of catching them before they could carry out any plans to destroy the ship, if that was, indeed, their intent. Excluding children, it was still the two of us, the three reinforcements, and whatever fire support Eddy could provide from the ground against perhaps nearly a dozen men. Still, we had certainly seen victory against worse odds.
The trio successfully got aboard the ship without having to use the main entrances, and Miss Coltrane had entrusted them with the sight of the inside of the workshop, her notes, and the means by which to access the rest of the ship. They were able to surprise Franzini's men, and a firefight through the ship began, though it was brief. I am told by Mr. Carver and Mr. Heller that Miss Bowe had removed three of their sentries before any alarm was raised. At the first commotion, Matthew made for the window again while the Captain and I risked storming the shi
p. We were able to catch three more of the men before they could ready their weapons. Thankfully, they surrendered quickly.
Though the attempt was thwarted, Mr. Franzini and two of the others were missing. That would not last long, as we then heard quite the commotion on the ground. While Eddy had shot one of them in the attempt, Mr. Franzini and his closest companion, Mr. Edwards, had managed to capture Matthew before he could make his escape. With a hostage, they made their way down the ladder and through the crowd.
We descended in time to hear their demands, though they could no longer threaten the airship. If they were allowed free passage to the free settler's ship before it left, they would release Matthew once a skeleton crew was aboard and they were off. Somewhere in the process, they were joined by a few of Mr. Franzini's other associates. We still cannot be certain if these were aware of the plot all along and simply not ready to go when they saw me running for the ship, or if they were unaware but now thought that they might be arrested and tried on suspicion of being complicit.
They were able to strand much of the ship's original complement, who had intended to leave in a few days’ time after some brief shore leave. They had enough of their own men, a few former sailors and naval veterans among them, to get the ship away with minimal crew. True to all expectations of Franzini so far, he did not release Matthew while he was still within Eddy's range. We had thought him entirely lost for a time, though many of the area's fishermen had already been preparing to launch their own boats by then.
