The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) (8 page)

“And what constitutes a ‘significant degree’ Mr. Wallace?” Phillips probed gently, finding a chance to quiz the pilot.

“Arr, anythin' over ten degrees will affect tha flight trim Sir...”

“Why?!” Jerard snapped suddenly to see if he could rattle the man. Pleasingly, Wallace didn’t flinch or stammer.

“Our propulsion rotors are fixed on the sides o' tha craft. If our relative up an' down position is altered t' much by lateral roll then tha wee rotors will deliver their thrust ina way that reduces tha ship's ability t' turn in tha air Sir.” Wallace’s eyes met the new captain’s levelly, and Phillips smiled.

“Indeed, Mr. Wallace indeed they would, very well done Sir. My apologies for the abruptness, it is gratifying to see that I have a helmsman that knows his craft and can deliver answers when put under pressure. I think we shall get along very well Sir. Carry on, Mr. Wallace.”

Phillips now turned to what was the most fascinating feature of the bridge. The entire curved front of the gondola consisted of metal struts with large panes of glass set into them. It looked like some sort of squared off glass bubble as the ceiling and floor of the structure were all glass. Two steps lead down into the bubble and at this point Jerard was reassured to see that the floor was not completely glass but enough so that the ground would be clearly visible when in flight. A beautifully curved brass handrail wove its way around the front, ostensibly to keep people from stepping on the glass, he assumed. Jerard moved to the railing and even with the ship on the ground he had the sensation of flying. “Genius,” he muttered.

“Indeed Sir.” Replied Mr. Pruette, his features as bland as ever. Phillips whirled around to see the man seated at a most unusual table. He had been so enchanted with the glass work that he had not noticed Pruette and the work station.

“As you can see Sir the main chart locker is here by my feet but the ready charts for the planned trip are kept here under this glass work surface. The top of the desk hinges so I can slide the current chart under and have no danger of it getting damaged or knocked about in inclement weather. I can mark our proposed course on it with this china marking pencil.”

“Isn’t a glass lid like that rather heavy and dangerous Sir?” Jerard objected mildly. The navigator didn’t seem a particularly burly chap after all. Not to mention, if that lid were to fall it would produce dire consequences for the glass flooring.

“Indeed it is Sir, but fortunately I don’t have to lift it. Observe.” The man cleared the assorted pens and rulers from the surface and flipped a small brass lever to the left hand side of his desk. A hiss and puff of compressed steam sighed in the air and the lid of the desk hinged up on a pair of pneumatic jacks. With a practiced flourish Mr. Pruette withdrew the map of Great Britain and then replaced it swiftly. He pulled the lever again, the slight hiss and puff of steam was repeated before the heavy glass work-top descended to flatten the map roll once more under its protective embrace.

“Other than the maps Sir, my only fixed instruments are the altimeter, barometer and these time pieces. As you can see one is always set to Greenwich mean time the other two can be set to any local area time we need to monitor.”

“Seems all very efficient Mr. Pruette, lots more room than my old flight sergeant had. Poor Fred, he’d have given his right arm for a desk like that and the amazing view. Thank you Sir, carry on.”

Phillips turned to the last of the crew members in his circuit around the bridge. “Mr. Jones,” he acknowledged.

The compact Welshman was also seated at his workstation which consisted of a small desk with a curious assortment of electrical equipment to one side. Like the helmsman his area was also placed on the upper edge of the step-down into the front bubble. Phillips reluctantly left what he knew would be his favorite place in the ship and stepped up to have a proper conversation with Mr. Jones.

“Yes, well, Sir, my duties are to act as second for Mr. Pruette see, and to handle communications. I am fluent in five foreign languages as well as the new Morse Code and light-semaphore communications.” Jones said.

“Five languages!” Phillips exclaimed, “Bravo Sir! What do you speak, may I ask?”

“Well Sir my foreign tongues are French, German, Arabic, Spanish and English. Cymru being my first tongue you see.” He paused to observe how Phillips took the idea of ‘English’ being to him a foreign language, and then continued. “I also have a smattering of Greek and Danish Sir”

“Very good, Mr. Jones. But I am a little unsure as to how you can use your inestimable vocal talents aboard the bridge of this ship?” Jerard was genuinely puzzled.

“Well Sir the Discretion has one of these Sir,” Jones said in his soft but penetrating voice. He moved to indicate the semi organized mess of wires and valves set into the wall to the left of the desk. “This is our wireless radio Sir, it only has a range of about 2 miles at best but Mr. Starblower’s residences all have one as do a few other forward thinking individuals about the continent.”

Jerard opened his mouth and closed it again. He had never heard of a radio, much less ever seen anything that looked like this. “Mr. Jones, I am a bit confused, you mean this is a wireless telegraph?” Jerard asked thoughtfully gazing at the faintly glowing filaments of the wireless device.

“Well Sir, you are correct this device is also a wireless telegraph but it is a means of sending your voice as well.” Jones grinned and patted the device. Our Mr. Starblower is a great fan of new technologies and innovation, and our system is as good as any you’ll come across. I expect you’ll see and hear for yourself when we approach Beardmore & Co. near Glasgow Sir.”

“Well then Mr. Jones I suppose I will.” Although Jerard was not convinced and it showed plainly on his face. “What other interesting things have you there Sir?”

“We have standard pneumatic transfer tubes for written orders like most larger ocean ships Sir, but we use this the most Captain.” Mr Jones began, indicating a large wire grill and a bank of smaller switches beneath it. “This is the master station but you will see speaking grills like this in most main areas of the ship for internal communication.”

“These are the ships speaking tubes you mean?” Jerard queried.

“They serve that purpose yes Sir but they operate electrically.” Seeing Jerards puzzled expression Jones continued. “Perhaps a demonstration would explain it simply Sir?”

“Carry on Mr. Jones.”

“Easily done Captain. See this switch here? It will connect this speaking grill to the one in the galley.” Mr. Jones depressed the small switch and leaned over to speak directly into the grill. “Mr. Vinnetti to the bridge, Mr. Vinnetti to the bridge, please.” He released the switch and a moment later a tinny voice could be heard issuing out of the little grill: “Si, Mr. Jones give me a moment.”

Jerard stepped back in amazement. “I say! That was Mr. Vinnetti!”

Mr. Jones smiled and nodded. Sure enough, just seconds later Mr. Vinnetti’s heavy step could be heard on the metal decking.

“What do you need Mr. Jones?” The Italian man said, huffing and puffing, as he came through the door. It was obvious he had been hurrying to get here. “Ah Captain! Are you ready to inspect the galley?”

“Mr. Vinnetti, I am afraid we owe you an apology. Mr. Jones was demonstrating the operation of the speaking grills. I am very sorry to have interrupted your work. I do however very much look forward to visiting your galley.”

Paulo Vinnetti shot a nasty look at Jones before bowing to the Captain. “Of course Captain I am glad to be of service to you in any way. These speaking grills, they are amazing, yes?

“That they are Sir! Thank you for participating in our demonstration Mr. Vinnetti, I will see you later in the galley.”

“You are welcome Captain.” Vinnetti said with an air of dignity as he turned and left the bridge.

When the sound of the man’s footsteps began to fade Mr. Wallace piped up. “Ya know Annie, ya really should nae taunt the man s' much, he might just spit in ya food!”

Jones straightened and glared at the Scotsman. “Don’t call me Annie! My
name
is Aneurin. And I am not taunting Mr. Vinnetti, he was the only crew member that I knew for certain would be at his station.”

“Aye of course Mr. Jones, of course. How could I ‘ave possibly mistaken this for part o’ the great tomato feud, my apologies Sir!” Mr. Wallace turned back to face the helm again, Jerard could see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Jerard was fighting to keep a straight face himself. He had not clue as to what the great tomato feud might be but he knew this would not be the time to ask about it. He also had never witnessed such a non-professional display on a ship’s bridge and was frankly at a loss as how to respond to it. The only thing he was certain of was that every time he looked at Mr. Jones from here on out he would be thinking of the man as Annie. Damn you Wallace! He cursed to himself, trying again to not laugh. Thank god Mr. Jones was carrying on in a professional manner.

“Now then Captain, all of the speaking grills are wired to the bridge. This is the only place where you can access all of the grills individually. You do so by depressing the appropriately labeled switch. This switch here,” Mr. Jones pointed to the last switch on the first row, “will activate all of the grills at once so you can send out a ship wide message.”

“That is amazing Mr. Jones. So, if I were in another part of the ship and I heard the call for the Captain to come to the bridge then I would depress the switch next to the grill and speak into it.”

“Yes Sir, that is correct. But you must remember to hold the switch down while you are speaking and then let go of it to hear a reply.”

“Very good Sir. Thank you Mr. Jones, carry on!” He turned away from the junior navigator proud that he had not called the man Annie to his face.

Jerard next moved to the last unexplored station, the one he assumed was his. There was a tall chair anchored to the deck with more of the swirling brass fittings. He noted that it also swiveled like the other crewman’s chairs and had a rather comfortable looking green velvet cushion. While the presence of a captain’s chair was not unusual on an airship, it was not something he was used to. Jerard was happy to see it, it would be a welcome treat on long flights. However what was unusual was the podium like structure in front of the chair. On close examination he discovered that its lid lifted and it contained the captain’s log, several sheets of fine vellum and several strange pencil shaped things but no inkwell. I shall have to have a look at this latter he promised himself, but not now, not when everyone seemed to be staring at him. Now, he thought, we shall have a look at the rest of this beauty, all 500 odd feet of her. Being a true pilot himself Jerard was anxious to get to the rest of the tour; he had so many questions.

He closed the podium lid with a snap and turned to find Nichols having a brief word with one of the stewards in the bridge doorway. Nichols caught his eye and offered. “Your baggage is aboard Sir. would you care to see your cabin next?”

“Yes I think so Mr. Nichols.” Jerard turned back to the still assembled bridge crew, “I understand that we will be underway soon gentleman, you are dismissed for now to make any further preparations.”

Nichols smiled at Jerard in obvious approval and led the way out of the bridge, across the ante chamber and up the slight grade of the companionway into the heart of the ship. Tanner followed with the captain’s lone piece of luggage. Jerard caught the faint sound of conversation behind them and wondered what his new crew was discussing.

The main hallway ran the entire length of the keel and was every bit as elegant as the bridge and anti-chamber had been. The walls appeared to be paneled half way up in wood, the upper portion sported an elegant damask wallpaper in a pale green. Jerard shook his head at the weight extravagance, this much wood must weigh a ton considering that the hallway was nearly 400 feet long. It was beautiful though and he raised a finger to trace along the paneling’s chair rail. He gasped in amazement and stopped in his tracks. Mr. Tanner nearly ran into the startled man. “This…this is paint! How…?”

Mr. Tanner chuckled. “The latest import from France, Sir. Painting one thing to look like another, I believe it is called Trompe L’œil. It’s really amazing and hard to keep from touching it. You will get used to it, Sir. There’s quite a bit of it on board.”

“
Amazing indeed Sir! Thank you Mr. Tanner, I now feel somewhat enlightened.” Although Jerard had to wonder at the extravagant expense of painting this much hallway.

“
If you are interested in architectural features then I must direct your attention to the circular stairway that leads to B deck.” Nichols chimed in pointing to what appeared to be an elaborately carved wooden stairway with leaves and vines picked out in gold gilding. “It’s duralumin, Sir. Mr. Beardmore explained to me that it gets its strength from being molded all of one piece. Quite a feat of engineering, if I say so myself, Sir and another example of this tromp lee stuff.”

Jerard nearly laughed out loud at the engineer’s mangling of the French. He ran his hand along one of the balusters and shook his head. “It really does feel like carved wood and it certainly looks like it. So I have to ask, the settee and other furniture on the bridge? Duralumin?”

“
Right again, Sir. I am given to understand that Miss. Smythe-Harris and Mr. Beardmore worked together on those. The lady seems to have quite an eye for design and according to Mr. Beardmore she has the technical understanding to make these pieces as strong as they are beautiful. Mr. Beardmore seems to hold the lady in the highest esteem.”

Phillips nodded and filed away these two pieces of information about Miss. Smythe-Harris. The first, she appears to be an intelligent and tasteful designer and the second, a man famous for manufacturing and design holds her in esteem. Most curious. “Lead on Mr. Nichols, I am thinking that I am in for many more surprises today.”

Nichols and Tanner shared a knowing look of agreement before Nichols turned to the first door in the passageway. “This Sir, is Mr. Wallace’s cabin and directly across here is Mr. Pruette’s. This next door here Sir, is your’s and my cabin is directly across here.” Nichols indicated the door across from where the trio stood before he turned and took a key from his pocket. He unlocked the door and handed the key to Jerard. “This is a master key. I have one as does Mr. Howell. It fits all of the locked doors on the ship with one exception.”