The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) (7 page)

“Is this everyone present then Mr.... err..?” He let the question hang in the air a moment to prompt the fellow to begin the introductions.

“Nichols Sir, Lance Nichols, Senior Engineer for the Discretion. Junior engineers Wright and Dortsmorn are still undertaking repairs aft Sir, all the senior officers and the rest of the crew are here as you see, Sir”

“Very good Mr. Nichols” He acknowledged. A part of Phillips’ mind approved of the ship's repairs being continued and not interrupted by the ceremony of his formal coming aboard. Another part of him disagreed and wished the whole crew had been assembled, if only to get the inevitable over with. How many of these stoic looking faces were secretly looking down on him he wondered? Squaring his shoulders he stepped decisively towards the first in line and looked coolly into the man's eyes, one eyebrow arched in mute question.

“Pruette Sir. Archibald Pruette, Navigation.”

Jerard studied his face but the man was a blank slate, nothing of his emotions escaped those cool gray eyes framed by wire rimmed spectacles. His uniform was spotless and virtually uncreased, marking him a stickler for detail. A good trait in a navigator perhaps, but something about the man set Jerard a little on edge. I wonder if he plays cards? With a mien like that, you’d never know his hand, Jerard speculated ruefully.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Pruette.” Jerard saluted the officer and moved on to the next in line.

This gentleman was not caparisoned in the dark green flight uniform of the airship. Instead an immaculately tailored dark dinner jacket stretched itself about his broad frame. “Jon Howell Sir, Chief Steward of the Discretion. Directly behind me are my staff Mr. Phelps and Mr. Tanner.”

“Ah, a pleasure Mr. Howell.” Phillips said, taking Howell’s proffered hand and nodding his acknowledgment to the under stewards clustered behind their supervisor.

Howell continued. “In addition to my regular duties I supervise the cargo loading of the Discretion if we are about to go on one of Mr. Starblower’s expeditions. If you need something Captain, I expect I can find it for you…someplace.” He said with a quick wink.

“I’ll bear that in mind my good Sir.” Phillips replied wondering exactly what the deuce the man meant.

Nichols introduced the next man as Jerard broke his handshake with the ebullient Howell. “My second Sir, Mr. D'Arcey”

Jerard saluted the thin faced man automatically, and was gratified to see the gesture returned smartly and with precision.

“Honored to serve with you Captain,” the man stated warmly, his English was good but he was not quite able to mask the continental accent.

“You are a former military man I’d guess Mr. D'Arcey.” Phillips commented taking in the textbook parade stance of the second engineer.

“Oui, Captain. I served two years in the Imperial Aerial Scouts based out of Boulogne.”

A Frenchman? Phillips wondered, good heavens what next? Out loud he simply commented, “Really? I know of them, what made you leave the Imperial French army, if I may inquire Sir?”

“Alas, I was impolitic enough to admit that I did not care for some of ‘iz Highness's directives. It seemed my momentary lapse was an excellent way for my fellow officer to gain a promotion at the expense of my career. In short, I thought it best to take an extended leave from my beloved France, for my ‘ealth Sir, you understand...”

Phillips certainly could understand. He knew first hand how politics and prejudices could blind the officer corps to the quality of their own men. So despite the man being unashamedly French he felt a twinge of empathy with him. “Damned shame Mr. D'Arcey, my sympathies. Let us hope this crew will be a new and favorable fresh start for us all.”

The young man next in line of the officers was visibly nervous to Jerard’s practiced eye, but his voice was clear and his salute passable. “Wallace Sir, William H.; ship’s Pilot” The man said managing to look Phillips directly in the eye as he did so.

Listening to the burr in the man’s voice Phillips replied. “Good to meet you Mr. Wallace. What part of Scotland do you hail from Sir?”

“Lothian Sir, me family’s lived in Linlithgow for as long as we canna figure.”

“Is that anywhere near Mr. Starblower’s estate then Mr. Wallace?”

“No Sir that’s t’ tha west nearer t’ Glasgow.”

“I see, how did you come to fly an airship then Mr. Wallace?” Phillips was curious as to how such an apparently young man came to be in such a key position.

“Well Sir I be from a nautical-like family. Was raised up on me Da’s fish’n boat an learned t’ pilot ‘bout the time I was outta short pants. I done well in me studies and earned a scholarship to Edinburgh University.

I studied the theories of Aeronautics there Sir, top o’ me class. An only one o’ four students given access t’ the University’s research blimp. From there I was offered a job at Beardmore’s factory as assistant pilot. Mr. Starblower offered me a position shortly after he purchased the Discretion from them Sir.”

“Indeed? So Beardmore & Co. were not upset at losing a promising pilot then.”

“I think Mr. Starblower made the supply o’ a trained pilot part o’ his purchase order Sir.” Wallace admitted a little sheepishly. “But it’s been a good experience for me as I’ve seen a lot more o’ the world in these few months than ever I would ‘ave waiting me turn as test pilot.”

“Very Good Mr. Wallace. We’ll talk more later.” Jerard concluded with a nod to the energetic younger man. I like him, Jerard thought, although he was holding further opinion until he could see the youth at the helm.

Stepping along the line, this time Jerard spoke first. “How do you do Sir?” He offered as introduction.

“Very well Sir, thank you. I am Aneurin Jones, assistant navigator Sir” The man replied in a clear voice.

“Good to meet you Mr. Jones. Is Mr. Pruette a demanding taskmaster?” Jerard half teased. A part of him was curious to see how they both reacted to this, and he chanced a look back at Pruette.

“Firm but fair Sir, he
is
exacting, but there’s no place for careless in navigation Sir.” Obviously, Jones had opted to play it safe and by the book, his reply was prompt and as expressionless as possible.

“Very true Mr. Jones. Our journeys depend on your diligence after all. Carry on Sir.” Phillips concluded as he stepped up to the last in the front line of senior crew.

This man was obviously not of British descent, his skin was a clear olive tone and his clean shaven cheeks had the faintest shadow of beard. “Greeting Captain, I am Paulo Vinnetti, Chef and Provisioner. And this Sir, is my assistant Donald McPherson behind me.”

An Italian with a Scottsman for an assistant, Jerard idly wondered how
that
worked out in the kitchen. He could picture some of those arguments and in doing so failed to keep the faint smile from his face. “Greetings to you Mr. Vinnetti, you too Mr. McPherson.” Jerard returned easily. “Now your profession is one I have not had the pleasure of in my former career, the best we could manage was packed rations when out on patrol. Have you managed to come up with a menu that compensates for air sickness my good Sir?”

“Eh! Captain that is dependent on the individual too much, but I try, I try!” The enthusiastic man quipped back.

“I look forward to sampling your attempts then Sir.” Phillips laughed as he returned the Chef’s grin.

Turning to the second row of junior crew he took in the men he had not been introduced to. All of them wore the same general uniform but with different shoulder patches presumably to identify their specialties. Glancing at the Chief engineer Phillips offered him the chance to introduce the remainder of the crew. Nichols nodded and stepped forward.

“These fine fellows are the backbone of our crew Sir, allow me to introduce Airshipmen; Adams, Collins, deReuter and the brothers Landover.” He said indicating each man in turn.

Phillips moved down the short line nodding to each in turn. As he approached the last two, the Landover brothers, the duo stiffened into a perfect attention stance worthy of any parade ground. Phillips stopped and looked them in the eye. The pair of them stared right ahead as if frozen despite his gaze.

“Where did you serve Messrs Landover,” he said quietly.

“Abyssinia Sir,” came the clipped and strictly proper reply, from the taller of the two.

“Under Sir Robert Napier?”

“He was overall commander, yes Sir,” replied the second brother. “We were not under his immediate command however, Sir”

“Fair enough Sir, what was your combat unit then?” Phillips pressed, intrigued to see why a pair of infantrymen had ended up in this increasingly unusual command of his.

“We were a Maxim Gun crew, Sir.”

“Really!?” Jerard exclaimed surprised. Trained machine gunners were rather more prized than ordinary infantry.

Nichols smiled and then explained. “These fine soldiers were also languishing as part of the testing crew at Beardmore’s, Sir. When Mr. Starblower purchased the Discretion, his secretary asked for them to be allowed to remain with the ship.”

“I see,” Phillips commented aloud though he most certainly
did
not see why Miss. Smythe-Harris would want to retain these two worthies. Even so he was vaguely comforted to find some more military men under his command. At least discipline should be easier to maintain.

The inspection concluded, Jerard stepped away and addressed the assembled crew as a whole. “I’d like to thank you all for your courtesy here today, this was a pleasure I had not fully expected. I hope you will find in due course that regardless of whatever you may have heard about me I am loyal to my crew and country and now our mutual employer Mr. Starblower. That's what I believe in and what I shall expect from you all. Perform to the best of your abilities and we shall get along famously, slack off or behave inappropriately and I shall have to be more stern. But from the look of you all today I feel a great deal of honor to be serving with such a fine array of men. Thank you. Dismissed!” Without thinking Phillips snapped a crisp salute to the assembled aircrew. The stewards and the chef were a little slow but he was pleased when the majority of them returned his gesture before relaxing out of parade rest.

Mr. Howell immediately detailed one of his stewards to go and collect the captain’s bags. Hearing this Jerard turned, “Oh, it’s just right outside, and there’s only the one.” Damn! I forgot all about it, I think I’m going to like having a steward on board. As the man, Jerard thought he remembered his name as Tanner, scurried down the access ramp Chief Nichols coughed politely.

“Sir, would you care to inspect the rest of the bridge while your things are brought up?” Nichols held back the dark green curtain that separated the ante-chamber from the bridge proper.

“Capital idea Mr. Nichols.” he agreed. Looking over at the dispersing group of officers and men he saw the principal members of the crew were still standing and watching him closely. “Gentlemen, take your flight stations... Please” he added the last to make them understand he was not quite ready to bawl orders at them, having just met them.

The bridge crew filed past him and rapidly dispersed to their respective positions while Phillips seemed rooted to the deck. He had never seen a bridge like this! The walls seemed to be of some sort of quilted velvet with tiny brass rivets at each intersection of the quilting. And there was actually an upholstered gold and white settee and chair complete with a tea table bolted to the deck on his left. Jerard did not know whether to applaud or scoff, who ever heard of taking tea in an airship gondola? Jerard’s amazement was interrupted by Mr. D'Arcey clearing his throat. The man was sitting in a chair behind a rather odd console. Phillips moved to his side as Mr. D'Arcey flicked a couple of switches and began calling out the readiness of the ship's systems.

“Captain; batteries at 92%, fuel at 75%, ballast is level, all pumps show green. Do you wish to start engines Sir?”

“No Mr. D'Arcey, thank you; I’m just trying to get a feel for the ship is all.” Phillips replied and leaned closer to Nichols. “Is he always this keen?” he added sotto vocce.

The Chief engineer grinned beneath his beard and whispered back. “Can’t say for sure, Sir, he’s new as well. Excellent references and qualifications though.”

Jerard nodded and clapped the enthusiastic second engineer on the shoulder. “Nicely done Mr. D'Arcey but instead of frightening the ground crew, how about you run me through your board here and tell me how you determined what you just said. This girl’s controls are somewhat different from the last ship I flew.”

D'Arcey colored under the captain’s amused tone and muttered a hasty “Oui, monsieur.” He then began pointing out the various gauges of the ships systems that he had just quoted from. When he was done Jerard again congratulated him and next moved to the nearby helmsman’s station.

“So what have we here Mr. Wallace? Explain it to me.” Seeing the man’s slightly quizzical expression he added, “Assume I know nothing about airships Mr. Wallace. I want to hear how you explain your station and duties if you please Sir.” Jerard did not feel the need to explain that he had never seen a helm quite like this. Where were the pitch controls?

Wallace’s face went blank for a moment as he marshaled his thoughts, Phillips wondered if the man really had the right temperament for a pilot if this display of nerves was anything to go by. Still, he believed in giving a person a fair chance before pigeonholing them forever. And he was extremely curious about the odd ship’s wheel.

“Well Sir, tha wheel is similar t’ that on a sailin' ship but has two axis o’ movement t’ allow for tha fact that an airship moves in three dimensions through tha air.” The man grasped the wheel and pulled it firmly back, the whole thing tilted backwards some twenty degrees. “Hauling tha wheel back like this adjusts her rear flaps t' angle us upwards and tha center rotors t’ angle downwards t’ spread tha load of tha climb throughout tha frame o' tha ship.”

Releasing the wheel he pointed to a set of gauges set just above eye level that extended out from the ship’s side to hang over but well out of the way of the wheel “Here, Sir, is where I 'ave tha indicators for airspeed as well as tha ships approximate pitch an' yaw. Tha last is a warnin' gimble, if tha craft begins t’ roll t’ any significant degree I can make immediate corrections.”