Black Mercury (The Drifting Isle Chronicles)

by Charlotte E. English

  Hildy just looked at her with a gleam in her eye that Clara found thoroughly alarming.

  “Hild…?”

  Hildy began to smile, but before she could speak Til returned with a tray of sandwiches and three cups of various steaming beverages. Hildy fell to with gusto, obviously trying to get the necessities out of the way as quickly as possible so she could get on with her project. Clara found it much more difficult to eat. Her gaze travelled from Hildy to the autogyro and back again, over and over, as she tried hard not to picture the thing shooting into the skies only to descend with fatal speed minutes later.

  She caught Til’s eye and read a similar concern in the big man’s normally expressionless face. He gave her a tiny, almost imperceptible shrug and carried on eating.

  Well, he was right. Once Hildy got an idea into her head, there was no stopping her.

  “Eat up, Clarry dear,” Hildy said, frowning at her. “Not sleeping and not eating either! We can’t have that.”

  Clara allowed herself a small smile. “If you crazy Goldsteins wouldn’t put me in a state of near permanent anxiety, I’d probably do better on both counts.”

  “Piffle.” Hildy demolished her last sandwich and took several gulps of coffee, then put the cup down. “I’ll just use the water closet.” She set off at a brisk pace, rapidly disappearing out of sight and hearing.

  Clara looked at Til. “She’s planning something crazy.”

  Til nodded. “I know.”

  “She can’t be allowed to go alone.”

  Til surveyed the autogyro thoughtfully. “Reckon there’s room for another seat?”

  Clara nodded without hesitation. She’d been thinking the same thing. “If we could shunt the pilot seat forward an inch or so, I bet we could fit a passenger in.”

  “Right.” Til stepped forward, reaching for Hildy’s tools. “You keep her busy for a few minutes. I’ll get this fixed.”

  Clara set off after Hildy and intercepted her just outside the water closet—out of sight of the autogyro. “I’ve got a question,” she said, stopping right in front of Hildy. “There’s almost no wind today, are you going to be able to get into the air?”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Hildy said. “Once the engine’s going, the back propeller will generate enough forward motion to get everything going.” She made to step past Clara.

  Clara dodged to stay in front of her. “Ah…but…with the new fuel, will that change anything?”

  Hildy narrowed her eyes. “Unless I miss my guess, the new fuel will give me a lot more kick than normal and I’ll be in the air in seconds. What’s this about, Clarry? You know all this.”

  “Just checking,” Clara said with a quick smile. “We worry about you, that’s all.”

  “We?” Hildy folded her arms. “What’s Til up to?”

  Clara sighed. Hildy was too sharp for her own good. Or maybe it was just that Clara herself was making a mess of it. “He’s making a few last minute checks to the gyro. It’s almost ready for you.”

  Hildy grinned. “It was ready half an hour ago. You’re terrible at this, aren’t you?” She strode past Clara without waiting for a response, and Clara was left to jog after her.

  Til was only halfway through fitting the second seat when Hildy caught up with him. “Til Mencken!” she snapped. “What are you doing to my machine?”

  “Clara’s going with you,” Til said calmly.

  “What?” exclaimed Clara at the same time as Hildy. She’d assumed that Til would want to go.

  “Nobody’s going with me,” Hildy said.

  Til ignored that and looked at Clara. “I’m too big. My weight and Hildegard’s together might be too much for the gyro. You’re lighter.”

  “Right,” Clara said weakly, suddenly regretting her interference. Images of Cas’s collision of last night flew through her thoughts, and her imagination obligingly filled in a picture of the wrecked autocarriage.

  Well, tough. She hadn’t wanted Hildy to go alone, precisely in case something went wrong. Being afraid didn’t change anything.

  Hildy looked annoyed. “This is high-handed, Mr Mencken.”

  “I know.” He finished with his work and stood back. “All set,” he said to her with a smile.

  Hildy didn’t say anything for several long seconds, and Clara waited for her to battle back. But then she shrugged. “Stubborn old git,” she muttered. “Are you ever going to get the autocarriage?”

  “Certainly,” Til said mildly and walked off, beckoning to Clara.

  She followed him. He didn’t need any help with the autocarriage, so that meant he had something to say to her.

  “Don’t be too worried,” he said when they were out of Hildy’s hearing. “She’s reckless alone, but with a passenger to think about she’ll be much more careful.”

  Clara managed a wobbly smile. “It’s not the flight that’s bothering me, it’s the stopping afterwards. That black mercury made Cas’s car so powerful he couldn’t control it anymore.”

  Til nodded. “Hildy and I have been here for most of the night working on that problem. We improved the brakes a lot, and we’ve added a lot less black mercury to the boiler.”

  That wasn’t quite enough to reassure Clara, but Til’s quiet confidence helped. He probably couldn’t prevent Hildy from going whatever happened, but she didn’t think he’d send her along too if he didn’t think the gyro was safe. “All right, but if anything bad happens… tell Cas I take back everything I said yesterday.”

  “Oh? About what?”

  “About stupidity, recklessness and self-endangering behaviour.”

  Til grinned. “Sometimes recklessness pays off.”

  “Let’s hope this is one of those times,” Clara muttered. The roar of the autocarriage engine drowned her words and she didn’t try to repeat them. Instead she put on her cool, confident face and got into the massive vehicle. Til drove it over to the other side of the warehouse and stopped near the gyro.

  “About half an hour, then,” he said as he jumped down, “and you’ll be in the air. Help me get it on board, now.”

  Til’s prediction was accurate. About thirty minutes later, the autogyro stood in an open field, its engine sputtering into life. The month of Mai had been dry so far, so the ground was quite firm. Mid afternoon sun glinted off Clara’s goggles as she got into the passenger seat and strapped herself in. Hildy was already in the pilot’s seat, practically radiating excitement as she prepared for liftoff. Clara had just time enough to exchange one last, quick smile with Til before he broke into a run, shoving the autogyro forward. The engine quickly took over, and the craft shot forward at a rate that felt horribly fast to Clara.

  “Hang on!” Hildy yelled, fighting to keep the machine steady as it rumbled over the uneven soil.

  Clara hung on. She didn’t have long to think about her predicament; within seconds the overhead propeller was whirling at terrific speed and the autogyro began to climb into the air.

  It climbed fast, hurtling into the sky at a rate that sent Clara’s stomach tumbling in terrified flip-flops. The ground fell away and spun dizzily beneath them as the autogyro turned two or three circles in the air.

  “Sorry!” yelled Hildy. “I’ve got it now!” The gyro steadied and began to fly straight, still gaining altitude.

  “So what are we doing?” Clara yelled back, trying to prise loose her terrified grip on the seat; it was making her hands hurt. “A few turns about the field, see how long it flies?”

  “To begin with!” Hildy shouted back.

  “Then what?” Clara screamed.

  Hildy just laughed and said nothing. Clara felt like throttling her, but under the circumstances she restrained herself and hung on grimly as Hild flew the circumference of several fields in slow loops. The gyro kept up the pace, with no signs of flagging. With plain water in the boiler, the machine would already have dropped back to earth.

  “Very promising!” shouted Hildy after another couple of minutes of flight. “We’re goi
ng on!”

  “Going on where?” Clara shouted back, without much hope of getting an answer.

  But Hildy surprised her. “Up there!” she yelled, jerking her head vaguely to the right. She stopped flying in circles and steered the gyro in an easterly direction, allowing the machine to climb higher and higher.

  Up where? Clara took her eyes off the ever more distant ground and looked up.

  Inselmond, the Drifting Isle, lay squarely ahead of them, looming gradually larger by the second. For a long moment, Clara could only stare, horrified, as wind whipped back her hair and shrieked ferociously about her shivering frame. Hildy, intent on her task as pilot, was oblivious to her dismay.

  “Are you crazy?” Clara screamed in her ear. “No, wait, forget I asked! I know you’re crazy!”

  Hildy just giggled. But a moment later her laughter stopped as the autogyro suddenly dipped and swerved violently to the left. Hildy swore and fought with the controls. The machine turned a dizzy circle in the air, leaning alarmingly.

  “What’s happening?” Clara shouted.

  “Just hang on!” Hildy yelled back. She maintained her struggle until she’d succeeded in swinging the gyro back around and pointing it once again in the direction of Inselmond. They were close enough now to see the promise of green life flourishing atop the curiously airborne landmass, and Clara felt a flicker of interest and curiosity in spite of her terror.

  Then she realised that Hildy had a bottle of sluggish black liquid in one hand and was fiddling with the boiler with the other. She was actually gripping the steering controls between her knees, forcibly holding the gyro steady while she added more black mercury to the boiler.

  “No, Hildy, please don’t do that—” Clara’s objections dissolved into a scream as the autogyro rocketed forward, arcing towards Inselmond at a speed that seemed determined to dash them both into what looked like rock-solid earth on the underside of the island.

  But Hildy had the controls back in her hands and somehow she mastered the increased speed, guiding the gyro machine high enough to clear the edge of the island. They shot over into the air above Inselmond, going far too fast to land. Hildy steered them around the edge, looking for a safe place to bring them down. Inselmond appeared to be quite thickly wooded, with plenty of trees to block their path. Hildy allowed the craft to slow, easing off on the engine, and when a gap in the trees appeared she took it.

  In Clara’s private opinion, the autogyro was still going far too fast when Hildy cut the engine. She swallowed another scream as the machine dropped, the propellers still spinning madly to break the fall. When the wheels hit the soft grass, the jolt of impact was so great, Clara feared irreparable damage to the machine—let alone to its terrified passengers.

  Trees loomed ahead. Hildy was giving the brakes everything she could, but the gyro still sailed gaily over the ground, oblivious to its danger.

  “Hildy…” Clara muttered. “Hildy, trees!”

  Hildy wrenched the machine around to the right and it bypassed the closest tree with inches to spare. She had to steer to the left again to avoid tumbling off the edge of the island. But then, to Clara’s infinite relief, the gyro finally slowed to a manageable pace, and then, after a few more moments, to a stop.

  Both women sat in complete silence, gasping for breath. Clara tried to unbuckle her seat straps, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t manage the clasp. Several minutes passed before either of them had recovered enough to move.

  “Well,” Hildy said brightly. “Here we are.”

  Clara said nothing. She could hear the tremor in her mentor’s voice.

  “I think I’m stuck,” Hildy said after another moment, having fought unsuccessfully with her own seat belts.

  “At least you know you won’t fall out on the way back.” Clara made another attempt at releasing herself and succeeded in getting the buckles open. She swung herself down from the autogyro carefully, mindful of her trembling legs.

  Reaching solid ground, she swayed for a moment, her whole body weak with terror and relief and—she had to admit—excitement. She was standing on Inselmond. No one had ever reached the Drifting Isle before, not in all of history.

  “Please get me out, Clara,” Hildy said in a tight voice. Her face was white, and the shaking in her hands and body made Clara look like a picture of composure.

  Clara got the seat straps unbuckled as fast as she could and helped Hildy down. They were right on the edge of Inselmond, and both women were greeted with a view of the lands below that was as stunning as it was terrifying.

  Eisenstadt lay spread below them, shining in the afternoon sun. Clara was instantly struck with a new appreciation for its sheer size. The city sprawled for what looked like several miles to the west, vast even from this height. She could see the government buildings, proud and majestic and pale; the central city train station gleaming in the sunlight; the race track snaking its way in a convoluted circuit on Eisenstadt’s eastern edge. And in the centre of it all lay Lake Sherrat, a few sailing vessels visible as tiny white flecks on its calm blue surface. Fields ringed the city, green and flourishing.

  Clara had been holding Hildy upright by main force, but now the inventor sagged to her knees. Clara had only an instant to realise she was going to be sick.

  “Hild, perhaps you—”

  Too late. Hildy retched, and her vomit sailed over the side and away down. Peeping over the edge, Clara was relieved to see a field directly beneath.

  “I’ll tell you the truth,” Hildy said shakily. “For a minute there I really did think we were going to crash.”

  Me too, thought Clara, but she wouldn’t add to Hildy’s distress. Instead, she retrieved the flask of water that Til had thought to pack under her seat, removed the cap, and offered it to her friend.

  Hildy took it gratefully. Sitting cross-legged in the grass, she took a long swallow and spat the water out again. “Better,” she said. “Thank you.” Then she said, “Perhaps Til was right.”

  “About what in particular?”

  “About me. I am reckless.”

  Clara wondered if she’d overheard what Til had said about being more careful if she had a passenger.

  “Til had confidence in you,” she offered. “Or he would never have let me come with you.”

  Hildy nodded slowly. “That’s true. But it only begs the question of which of us is crazier? Him or me?” She gave Clara a crooked smile and rose unsteadily to her feet. “Well, I’ll do the apologies later. Now let’s buck up and make the most of our adventure.” She looked around for a moment and then, choosing a direction apparently at random, began to stride off.

  “Hild,” Clara said, catching at her arm. “About not being reckless…”

  “Hm?”

  “You’re not just going to walk off, are you?”

  Hildy turned to blink at her. “Why not? You can’t imagine I’d come all the way up here without exploring!”

  “I can certainly understand the temptation to explore,” Clara said carefully. “But consider. We have no idea what’s up here. There could be any number of dangers. Beasts, treacherous land. We have no map, so getting lost is a real possibility. And what if something happens to the gyro while we’re gone? We’d be stranded up here.”

  Hildegard sighed. “Why do you always have to be so reasonable?”

  Clara sighed too, inwardly. Why did she always have to be so reasonable? Just once she’d love to be able to still that nagging voice of reason that prevented her from doing anything crazy. Or even anything fun, much of the time.

  Oh well. She may be a boring a companion, but her caution meant that they wouldn’t be mauled to death by wild beasts, fall down a hole and starve to death, lose themselves for days, or get stranded on Inselmond for the rest of their lives. That counted for something, didn’t it?

  Some of these thoughts showed on her face, for Hildy’s scowl of annoyance softened and she patted Clara’s arm. “I’m sorry, Clarry. You’re perfectly right, of
course. We’ll just have a little peek and then go home, all right? The time for proper exploration will come.”

  Clara nodded. “There’s a rise between the trees just over there,” she said, pointing. “I’ll stay with the gyro if you want to go and see what the view’s like.”

  Hildy was off without pausing to answer, a picture of bustling excitement. Clara felt bad again about curtailing her desire to explore, but she knew that Til had sent her along precisely because she would keep Hildy from doing anything too mad.

  Funny, that. For the past few years, she’d spent most of her time keeping various Goldsteins out of trouble. But did it really help? Would Cas and Hildy get into more trouble without her, or would they learn caution?

  Dismissing these thoughts, she sat down on the grass to rest her still-shaky legs. The view from her perspective wasn’t very exciting. Grass and wildflowers and trees surrounded her—the same kinds of grass, flowers and trees she saw every day in and around Eisenstadt. Small birds twittered unintelligibly in the branches of the nearby trees, and somewhere in the distance a few geese were arguing about nest-building. Everything on Inselmond appeared to mirror Eisenstadt to an extent that she privately found disappointing. The mystery of the Drifting Isle had inspired countless romantic tales, myths, rumours and speculation, but so far the truth was thoroughly mundane.

  When Hildy reappeared, Clara looked up hopefully. Perhaps she had seen something exciting from her better vantage point?

  “It looks,” said Hildy slowly, “as though there may be cultivation going on.”

  Clara blinked. “Land cultivation? You mean farming?”

  Hildy nodded. “There are quite a lot more trees, but at a certain point the tree cover peters out and I thought I could see fields beyond. Maybe even hedgerows.”

  “But… that means there are people up here!”

  “Possibly! But I don’t want to get carried away with that idea. It’s just an impression I got.”

  “I heard some geese nearby. Maybe we could talk to them and ask.” Clara stood up, relieved to find that the weakness in her legs had mostly faded. But when she listened for the chatter of bird voices again, she couldn’t hear them. “They weren’t far away,” she said, turning in circles to peer through the trees.