Plans and Supplies
Jericho turned over the heap of rubbish inside the second hut they’d inspected, then stood up and dusted his hands together. Thymon was not about to give up so easily; he continued sifting through the pile for a bit, then went on to the next hut for a look around. It was the very last one. They’d investigated all the rest and found, just as O’Rourke had said, nothing but murdered lizard-men.
All about—O’Rourke had indeed been busy during their captivity—signs, unmistakable signs, of British involvement in the massacre.
“Nothing useful, I’m afraid, but the odd knife. So it looks as if all we have are O’Rourke’s rifle and revolver and a few rounds of ammunition. Hardly enough to storm a fully armed zeppelin and explain ourselves, or demand an explanation.”
Just outside the door, careful to stay in the shadow of the hut, Nathanial was keeping a close watch on the slowly descending airship. It was very near the ground; soon they would drop lines, though thankfully the ship was perhaps a mile away. For some reason, it was mooring near that odd rocky outcrop instead of closer to the village.
Thymon came hurrying back and burst into the tent. The lizard-man was burdened with several valises and bags that looked very familiar.
Annabelle stood up with a cry of satisfaction. “Oh, do look! It’s our luggage, and that,” she took one long narrow case from Thymon with a smile of thanks, “if I am not mistaken, is my bow. Good thing, too! I’ve only found one of the native bows, and they’re not quite the kind I’m used to, of course. But I think I shall be able to cause a bit of damage with mine, don’t you agree, Nathanial?”
Nathanial cast his eyes skyward and shook his head. Good Lord; Annabelle never ceased to amaze him. He asked Jericho, “What kind of shot are you?”
Jericho shrugged. “I know which end of the gun is which, and I’ve shot the odd bird or two back home at country houses, but I’ve never shot a man.”
Nathanial shook his head ruefully. “I am the same, I fear. Of the three of us—four of us,” he corrected hastily when Annabelle glared at him, “I believe Annabelle is the best, at least with her bow.”
“I’m an excellent shot with nearly any kind of weapon,” Annabelle said absently as she strung her bow. “Or have you so quickly forgot my rescue of you on Luna?”
“How wonderful!” Jericho said. “Really, Annabelle, I must say, if I had to be marooned in the middle of the Venusian jungles, I could not imagine anyone I’d rather be, uh, marooned with!”
Nathanial sighed and shook his head. “That is all very well, you two. But do consider. We certainly cannot take over an entire zeppelin with these weapons, and I sincerely doubt if the Germans are willing to see reason. Perhaps we should simply set out for the plateau instead.”
“If you recall, it is several days’ march away,” Annabelle reminded them, “and Giles’ poor head is hurt, and so is dear Thymon. It’s wonderful that he made it here, the brave, loyal dear; I’m not sure he can make it back on foot.”
“Then, consider this: why do we not simply drag O’Rourke to the zeppelin and force him to disclose all?” Nathanial asked.
“And get shot for our pains, you mean?” Annabelle did not look at him; she didn’t have to. Nathanial could imagine quite well what her expression must be.
Damn it all! He was not an adventurer, nothing like a hero! He was a scientist, an engineer, an inventor! He had tried to be an adventurer on Luna, but a month back on Earth had shown him the truth. Annabelle was never going to understand that. She was never going to admire him.
“If we’re not going to take the airship by force, then we have no other choice but to set out through the jungle,” Annabelle said flatly.
Nathanial was looking at her bow and did not answer. Ideas were whirling through his mind. Perhaps, just perhaps, being able to work with his brain instead of his brawn might impress Annabelle yet!
Finally, she snapped, “Stop woolgathering, Nathanial, and show some initiative! Do you have any other ideas? Preferably one that might get us out of this mess? Tell us, pray!”
Nathanial let a slow smile spread across his face. “Annabelle, give me one minute.” He turned to Jericho. “How many crewmembers on a zepp that size?”
Jericho shrugged and began counting off on his fingers. “Captain, executive officer, engineer, navigator cum heliograph operator, and perhaps three or four more. A steward/cook. Plus whatever passengers are onboard. Why?”
“And doubtless some of them will land; they would not be anchoring now if that was not their plan, so we may well be dealing with just a few still onboard.”
“But getting onboard, my dear chap!” Jericho waved his hands wildly in the direction of the zeppelin, now floating majestically still, so close the imperial eagle was clearly visible on her side. “You can see they’re mooring at those rocks to discharge someone, and they’re quite forty feet or more high. Besides, if they follow normal German procedure, they’ll cast off and hover while they await the return of those below. It’s hopeless. We’ll never be able to get onboard.”
Nathanial strode over to the back of the hut, to fetch the coil of rope they’d found earlier. Part of the coil was now wrapped securely around their former guide, but there was a good deal left. Would there be enough? He took it back down from the protruding branch where he’d hung it and ran it through his hands. Yes! And the loop of thin yet strong twine hanging beside it was even longer, perhaps a hundred feet or more.
“This rope is at least fifty feet long,” he said. “With this twine attached to the end, with the other end tied to an arrow, I believe we may have a way onboard.”
Jericho shook his head in confusion. “My dear fellow, I certainly can’t shoot a bow with any sort of accuracy. Can you?”
Nathaniel smiled. “Have you ever seen Annabelle shoot a bow?”
“Nathanial, you are brilliant!” Annabelle smiled at him for the first time in what seemed like days. “Come along, Thymon, my dear fellow. Get us out of this village and over to that outcropping! We have a zeppelin to board!”
“Oh, now, see here,” said Jericho weakly. The right side of his head, where O’Rourke had struck him with the revolver, was several interesting shades of blue and green, and his eye was very nearly swollen shut. “I think we should reconsider all this Boys’ Own Paper adventure rubbish and think about what we are proposing. Even if we could get onboard that zepp—and that is a remarkably big ‘if’—what will we do when we get there?”
Nathanial waved the revolver about, then hastily tucked it back into the holster he’d confiscated from O’Rourke when even Annabelle blanched. “We shall hold, uh, someone or other at gunpoint and insist they listen to our story, then take us back to the Victoria plateau, of course!” He was filled with the oddest sense of confidence and determination and…was it bravery?
“Bravo, Nathanial!” Annabelle said as she took the coil of rope from him and tucked it over her shoulder. Then, throwing her arms around him, she gave him two resounding kisses, one on each cheek. “And we have nothing to worry about, once we’re onboard. If needs be, I am quite sure you can soon discover how to pilot the ship, for this I know: there is nothing on Heaven or Earth which you cannot decipher.”
Nathanial felt a blazing heat rising to his face. “Thank you indeed, Annabelle. Well, now; shall we go become airship pirates?”