Revenge of the Mad Scientist (Book One: Airship Adventure Chronicles)

by Lara Nance

  “I should s, s, say so,” Benji exclaimed and followed closely on the captain’s heels as he led them down the hall and up a flight of stairs to the outside deck.

  Benji pelted the captain with questions about the operation of the airship as they walked. Jasper put a hand on her arm and held her back after the boy and Captain Joe were out of earshot.

  “My Lady, do you truly believe your father is in Carabarras?” His brow wrinkled in worry.

  “Yes, Jasper, there can be no doubt of it. If you’re going to be on the trip, you should know the whole story.” She pulled the stickpin from her pocket and told him what she and Benji had discussed.

  He rubbed his chin as she completed her tale. “It certainly does point in that direction. But you know how dangerous this trip will be, don’t you?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Jasper. The only thing I care about is saving my father. He’s the most important person in the world to me, and right now he’s also extremely important to the rest of the world. This disappearance could cause war. I have to have faith that once we are in Carabarras we shall find a way to rescue him.”

  “I hope you are right, My Lady,” Jasper said. “Rest assured I shall do everything in my power to help you in this endeavor.”

  “Thank you, Jasper.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I appreciate that.”

  They joined the others outside on the deck of the ship just as the captain shouted, “Let ‘er fly.”

  Belle rushed to the side rail where Benji leaned over, looking down. The men below released the ropes from the iron rings that had moored the hovering craft to the ground and the crew hauled the ropes up. Benji waved to the ground workers and the men gave him an answering salute, which made him let out a whoop.

  “Steam up and helium up,” the captain ordered the pilot. A loud hiss and clanking rumbled beneath their feet as the giant steam engine in back of the gondola powered up to run the fans that would drive the direction of the ship. The release of additional helium from the concentrator tank rounded out the envelope, providing the lift they needed to sail into the air.

  Fantasy Flyer rose, slowly at first, and then it picked up speed. The ground fell away and soon the men running around on the tarmac looked like nothing more than bugs scurrying across the ground.

  A smile tugged at Belle’s lips as the air blew across her face and she observed Benji’s excited expression. Jasper’s face, however, remained a mask of resignation. She had been on numerous airship voyages but the liftoff always exhilarated her, not to mention she had never undertaken a trip that would involve traveling almost completely around the world. A chill of apprehension floated in her chest as she thought of what they were undertaking. But to save her father, there was no other choice.

  “L, l, look.” Benji pointed. “There’s the palace.”

  Sure enough, they passed to the left of the Imperial Palace where Queen Arianna lived and presided over the Empire of Urbannia. She wondered what the day would hold for the queen now that the treaty with Gandiss would not be signed. It had to be a major blow to her international peace plan.

  Arabella's father always shared political news with her, so she knew the dilemma. Over the past decade, the world had evolved into the countries east of the Great River versus those to the west. Urbannia, Catika and Montanna versus Pandistan, Gandiss and Carabarras. That left the small island states of Urakay, Moro and Jelep in a gray area of indecision playing one major power against another to remain safe. Forming a treaty with Gandiss would have put Urbannia in a very secure position. But now that was all in ruins.

  “Bloody hell, Belle, this is f, f, fantastic,” Benji said, leaning so far over the rail, Belle put a hand on his coat to pull him back.

  “Watch the cursing, Benji.” She patted him on the back and scanned the impressive sights below her. All the famous landmarks of the great city of Aereopolis passed by: the Imperial Congress Building, Horry’s Amphitheater, the Mall of the Century, and Porteguy Harbour where large trading ships floated slowly across the blue green water.

  A rumbling, whirring noise heralded the start of the large fans at the back of the vessel, which angled to push them forward as well as up. The large, framed leather fins between the fans swung round to direct them starboard toward the distant mountains.

  Having reached an altitude where they would not be in the path of another passing airship, they moved away from the city at a smart pace. The captain conferred with his pilot beside the steering wheel on the aftcastle, and set the course.

  Belle looked up. Fluffy white clouds floated only a few yards above them. The sky lightened, now tinted a grayish-blue. She took a deep breath of the crisp, clear air at this height. The temperature had dropped quite a bit, chilling her arms. Along with the cold, an aching weariness seeped into her body that she had held at bay until now.

  “Belle?” Benji sided up to her and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  She gave him a smile and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m really worried, Benji.”

  “I know. I’m s, s, sorry. I’ve been so excited about the t, t, trip, I forgot how you must be feeling about your father.”

  “I have to sleep. You and Jasper should rest, too. Later on we can talk to the captain about our route and what to expect.”

  Benji nodded, and at that point, Captain Joe walked up.

  “We’re away, My Lady. We made record time with the preparations, so we should be at Cross Roads by midnight,” he said.

  “Excellent, Captain. I appreciate your quick response.” Belle gave him a tired smile, happy they would make such good time today.

  “What’s in Cross Roads?” Benji asked.

  “Cross Roads is the eastern most point of the Empire where the borders of Urbannia, Montanna and Catika come together in a point. It’s the gateway to the east and heavily traveled by those on the land as well as the air. Its aeroport, while nothing to compare to the one in Aereopolis, is quite large and set up to provide fuel and provisions for long distance travelers. It’s the perfect place to provision for our next stop.” Captain Joe patted Benji’s shoulder.

  “Captain, I d, d, don’t understand why we can’t fly west to reach Carabarras. Wouldn’t it be faster?” Benji asked.

  “In distance, yes. But no ship has the capacity to fly that far over water without a place to stop and refuel.”

  Benji nodded and looked thoughtful.

  “By the way, My Lady. I overheard the customs agent say that your father has disappeared,” the captain said, watching her closely.

  “Yes, he was kidnapped last night at a ball for the ambassador of Gandiss.” She decided lying would be of no purpose now. He would figure out sooner or later the reason for the voyage. “It happened around ten o’clock.”

  He raised one eyebrow and scratched his chin. “But you think he’s being taken to Carabarras?”

  “I’m sure of it,” she said in a firm tone.

  “Well then. I might have some information that would interest you,” he said in a lowered voice. “When I filed my flight plan, I happened to see the log book of all the flights leaving in the last twelve hours.”

  Belle’s heart leaped. “I thought you said there was no charted flights to Carabarras.”

  “No,” he said. “But I did see a ship that left for Harruca in Pandistan at eleven last night. It wasn't a charter. Seemed like a prescheduled trip.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand. How does that help us?”

  “The vessel and its captain are well known to me. He’s a brigand and agreeable to take any job for enough pay. He’d be willing to take a person on board and not declare their presence, I’m certain. I'd bet he was hired ahead of time if there was a plan to kidnap your father. He was ready and waiting to set out as quickly as possible.”

  “But you don’t think Harruca is his true destination.”

  “Oh, it very well could be. On the way to Carabarras he’d stop there anyway to take on fuel. Only a fool would cross the Mul
i Desert without full provisions and their coal topped off. All he has to do is stop in Harruca and file a new flight plan to Carabarras leaving Urbannia none the wiser.”

  Adrenaline burned through her veins. “What ship is it?

  “Blackwatch, and the captain is Wildeye Perry.”

  “I’ve r, r, read an article about him,” Benji interjected, nearly dancing in excitement. “He had a clockwork eye installed after he l, l, lost one of his in an airship crash. Some scientist in Urakay invented it and he was the first to have one implanted.”

  Captain Joe nodded. “That’s him alright. He lost a hundred and seven people on that crash and took another ship down with his own. All of us captains in the business know why.”

  “Why?” The other three chimed in together.

  “He was drunk and took a bet to beat another airship in a race from Kushtu to Jenta. Bloody fool raced with passengers on board. ‘Scuse my language, My Lady. But no self respecting captain would ever put people in danger that way. It was a shame. He should have lost his license over it, but his brother is the governor of Jenta—covered the whole thing up. Still he can’t work for any of the big airship companies after that, they wouldn’t have him. So he makes his money now in charters with a little smuggling on the side.”

  “Amazing,” Benji said, caught up in the story.

  “So you think this Wildeye Perry was hired to smuggle my father from Urbannia to Carbarras,” Belle said, head spinning with this new information.

  “It makes perfect sense. The ship left about an hour after you say your father disappeared according to the log. No other ship left the aeroport between then and now.”

  “It h, h, has to be him, Belle.” Benji gripped her arm.

  “I’m afraid it does seem logical,” Jasper added.

  “Well, at least we know who we’re chasing.” Hope surged through Belle. Although she’d been certain her father had left that pin for her to find, this news gave them a real trail and a tangible adversary. “Crank up the steam, Captain. Let’s see how fast Fantasy Flyer can fly.”

  Captain Joe grinned and touched two fingers to his cap. “Aye, aye, My Lady.”

  Chapter 3

  Captain Everette Brockton slammed his glass down on the table, eyeing his opponent. The big mountain man opposite him wiped a hand across his mouth and a droplet of brandy fell onto his long heavy beard. His eyes narrowed beneath his beaver fur hat as he reached for another shot, dropping a gold coin on the table as he did.

  “Rett, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” His first mate, Steamin’ Sam, punched him in the ribs with an elbow.

  “Shh,” Rett hissed under his breath. “Almost there.”

  Yells of the mountain men echoed in the large, high roofed lodge. Huge timber rafters as big around as a man’s body supported the ceiling. A chill crawled up Rett’s arms despite the square, stone fire pit in the center of the room and its roaring fire. Occasional puffs of smoke trailed out of cracks in the riveted steel pipe that served as a chimney, giving the room a hazy atmosphere.

  Only a few other patrons scattered around on the roughly made wooden chairs and tables at this time of night. They cast occasional glances at the raucous party at Rett’s table but mostly stayed hunched over their drinks.

  Whiffs of smoke and whiskey permeated the air stinging Rett’s nose. He sniffed and rubbed a hand under his nostrils. He squinted against the golden light from the flames in the fireplace and gaslights along the wall cast eerie flickers about the dim room. He had to stay focused.

  Sam let out an audible breath and then he sat back in his chair. Under the edge of the table, he pulled up the black leather glove on his mechanical hand, flexing the fingers.

  Rett glanced nervously at the mountain man’s companions, all just as lumbering. They stood behind their friend, urging him on with hollers and slaps to his fur clad back.

  The man gave Rett a steady look and then tossed back the brandy and slammed his glass down on the table. The group roared their approval and threw their own silver and gold coins on the table.

  The man’s eyes glazed over for an instant, then he shook his head and refocused. Damn it. Rett was sure that last one would do the trick. He took a deep breath and reached across to the row of shot glasses with their golden brown liquid. Pepper brandy, made in the lower latitudes of Montanna where the temperatures were balmy, not like the frigid north where they were now. It burned from more than just the heavy alcohol content. If he was lucky enough to live through this, he vowed to never drink this particular liquor again.

  He dropped his last gold coin on the table. That was it. If the next drink didn’t do the big guy in, he and Sam would have to fight their way out of here to get their money back. Eyeing the pile of silver and gold on the table, he put the glass to his lips. He were desperate for that money. Otherwise they would never get their airship repaired in this frozen hell hole. If they didn’t get out of here they couldn’t pick up their next cargo in Eagle’s Peak and without that cargo shipping fee they couldn’t pay off the Baron. Rett would lose his ship in forfeit. Already there were rumors the Baron had but a bounty on his head. That was unthinkable.

  He tossed the burning liquid back and his eyes bulged out. Damn, that stuff was strong. His head gave a spin and his stomach lurched. Bloody hell, if he threw up they would kill him. He swallowed, fighting down the nausea and the big men howled in pleasure at his obvious discomfort. They prided themselves on drinking the vile brandy and thought anyone else incapable of beating them at a drinking contest. But Rett had drunk worse drinks in aeroports all over the world—not a skill to brag about, but one that came in handy from time to time.

  An almost imperceptible tremor shook the mountain man’s hand as it inched across the table. A surge of hope suffused Rett. His heart pounded as the man opened his fingers and let the gold coin roll out of his hand. The men behind him erupted in cheers.

  “I hope you’re ready to run,” Sam whispered in his ear.

  Rett stayed focused, watching the big man as his thick fingers touched the small glass and then grasped it. These trappers would not let their gold and silver go easily. He wondered how they would ever be able to fight so many, but he couldn’t let them have his last bit of gold.

  His opponent let out a big laugh, picked up the glass, and raised it. But it never made it to his lips, his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell forward over the table.

  Sam let out a yell and pounded Rett on the back. “You did it, mate. You did it.”

  Rett gave a wobbly grin and reached out to rake the pile of coins toward him. Sound like a pack of wolves growling grew across the table and a knife suddenly stabbed into the surface, a beefy hand gripping the handle.

  “I say you cheated,” a gruff voice said, one of the mountain man’s friends. He also wore the heavy fur coat and cap of the territory trappers. No doubt he didn’t want to lose his gold either. “No one can beat Big Jim drinkin’ pepper brandy. You must have poured yours down your sleeve.”

  “I say now, it was all fair and square.” Sam rose from his chair to stab a finger at the man. “We can’t help it if your bloody mate can’t hold his drink.”

  A roar of anger went up from the whole group and Rett readied himself for a fight, but a loud crack rang out behind him and the room went silent as bits of dust and timber rained down from the ceiling. Rett turned in his chair. The burly bartender held a long, bronze, multi-shooter with a cylinder that held at least thirty bullets—plenty to take out this unruly group. His bald head glistened with sweat despite the freezing temperature outside and a bushy black moustache twitched on either side of his down turned lips.

  “They’ll be none of that here. If you play, you pay. That’s the way of it. You know that. Now pay up and get the hell out.” He hefted the gun in a menacing way and glared at all of them.

  The group of shaggy trappers gathered up their belongings and downed the last of their drinks as they straggled out of the bar, dragging their comatose comp
anion with them.

  Rett raked the last of the money to the edge of the table and into his leather money pouch. He stuck the pouch in an inside pocket of his heavy overcoat and pulled the sides around him. Sam handed him his fur-lined leather flight helmet and he jammed it on his head.

  “Think they’ll be waitin’ for us outside?” Sam gave the door an uncertain glance.

  “Got a back door?” Rett asked the barkeep and tossed him a gold coin.

  The man caught the coin in midair as he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of a hall that ran behind the bar and then continued clearing empty glasses from the tables.

  “Thanks, mate,” Sam said as they hurried in that direction.

  Rett pulled a pistol from his pocket as they crept down the hall to the back of the building. The storeroom held barrels and bundles stacked against the walls and a bolted door to the outside. He motioned with one hand and Sam lifted the wooden bar that held it shut. He slowly opened the door, then heaved a sigh of relief. The way was clear. Rett returned his pistol to the holster on his hip.

  Sam followed him into the darkness through the foot high snow as sleet pelted them both in the face with icy pellets. Rett struggled over the snow drifts, his tall leather boots not entirely blocking out the cold. They edged their way around the building, feet crunching in the snow. Down the street, the group of trappers waited by the front of the lodge, several holding cudgels, and a few with their big mountain knives out, silver blades flashing in the moonlight.

  “This is bad,” Rett whispered and his breath fogged in the air. “We need to go around that next building to get back to the hanger.”

  “Got any ideas?” Sam leaned back against the rough log building. “There’s a good fifty feet between this building and the next one. They’ll be sure to see us if we run across.”

  “Yeah,” Rett said, and turned around, pointing to the woods behind them. “Be a good fellow and break us off a couple of those small pine trees.”