Under the Arch
“Sir! We must get you into the monoplane immediately. Your survival is at stake.”
Prince Albert Veron Stell-Chais quickly turned around in response to the tension in the Captain’s voice and was startled to see the disheveled uniform and dirt smudged face before him.
“Trouble, Captain?”
Prince Albert had been anticipating the fruits of victory that were a mere three leagues away. Within sight, the gleaming white ramparts and towers of the castle presided over the aerodrome in the green valley below. Prince Randolph has not been seen since engine troubles had forced him to land his airship in Flel and wait for repairs.
The table just behind Prince Albert was spread with an assortment of delicacies, well aged wine, and exotic sweets. The crew had prepared the entire cabin with splendid decorations and banners.
The princely twins had been born during the earthquake of 394. In the ensuing panic, a mixup had occurred that had created some doubt over who was the first born. It remained uncertain who would succeed the King..
The ailing King and the aristocracy favored Randolph, the Queen and the populous favored Albert. With tensions rising the King decreed that the brothers, now 21, would race around the world in airships, each visiting the far flung colonies, in a majestic display of imperial might and technological prowess. The first to pass under The Arch, after circumnavigating the world, would win the race. The victorious Prince would be named Successor.
“We are experiencing an uncontrolled ascent at the most inopportune time. Sir, our water ballast has been jettisoned and none of the lifting gas dump valves will open. The control wires have been cut. The wind through The Arch is against us. Even at full power, our headway is insufficient to get us through before impact. Were we to turn or cut engine power, we would be dashed upon The Arch. We can but rise, and will soon collide with the rocks above.”
“Sabotage?”
“Sabotage without a doubt, Sir. From inside the ship, the Emergency Dump valves are accessible only by ladder, and from outside the ship, only by way of hatches on the top deck. When aloft, a climb around the outer envelope is impossible. The saboteur on his way to the top deck destroyed every ladder and there is now not enough time repair them. He probably jumped as several crewmen report seeing a parachute which failed to open. If so, the saboteur is dead.”
Albert thought for a moment. “A cruel fate but I care more that the truth of this treasonous act be known and that the perpetrators face justice. I will need the ship’s logs as evidence and an up-to-date crew list. How long do we have?”
“Fifteen minutes maximum. A flight suit is ready for you, and by now the pilot has those documents and is waiting. Sir! To the plane immediately!”
“Very well. Be assured your families will be taken care of and your heroism remembered by all. Your name is Tyse, I believe. Captain Tyse?”
“Yes, Sir. From Melody, in the South. Follow me, Your Majesty.”
The Prince’s every sense was awake and charged with excitement. As he donned a well used flight suit, he noticed that the words Top Man in large letters across the back. The airman who had just given it to him saluted, saying, “Good luck, Sir.”
“Yours?” Albert asked. The airman nodded.
Engine noise and wind assailed Albert as he made his way along the trellis walkway leading to the waiting plane. Each hand was a death grip that had to be released in order to progress. Both plane and walkway bucked and shook like a wild animal trying to dismount its rider. The pilot grabbed Albert’s sleeve and pulled him into the front seat of the aircraft.
“Buckle up, Sir,” the pilot ordered loudly over the noise.
Albert nodded and fought with the seat belt. Something bulky was in the flight suit’s pocket, preventing the buckle from connecting. He reached into the pocket and pulled out a small folding grappling hook with a few fathoms of light cord attached.
The pilot shouted, “top men use those to traverse the top deck of the airship. With experience and a good throw a good Top Man can hook into the grapple rings set along the deck and pull themselves along, flat on their bellies, from one ring to the next, even while underway.
“You must buckle up now,” the pilot insisted.
Albert all but lost his lunch as the small plane, engine screaming, dropped away from the airship and pulled a hard starboard turn.
Albert looked at the attachment rings on the flight suit. An idea formed in his mind as he tied the grappling hook to the suit. He turned towards the pilot and waved his hand in a circle and pointed up.
The pilot tried to ignore the gesture.
“There may be a way to save those still aboard and I need you to get me on that top deck.”
The small aircraft struggled to gain altitude. Like a minnow beside a whale, they flew upward alongside the airship, then over the top. The pilot aligned the plane with the narrow walkway that ran fore and aft along the top of the airship.
“I am going to climb onto the landing gear and use this grappling hook into a ring. I encourage you not to hit the rocks above when I disembark. Get me as close as you can.”
Albert clambered out and found a way down the wing struts and onto the landing gear and axle. The pilot managed to remain aligned with the Top Deck walkway. Throttling back, he allowed the plane to sink closer and closer. Unfortunately, the wind kept the grappling hook streaming back and away from the deck.
The approaching arch loomed closer. “Get me lower,” Alfred called out, as he retrieved the cord and hook. “Lower!”
The wheels touched down long enough for Alfred to hook in and jump off. With the extra weight gone, the aircraft leapt up and away, almost clipping the Arch.
Although being uncontrollably buffeted and rolled around on the deck he was relieved that the plane was safely away. Trusting his knots on the harness, he let go of the cord. With his arms and legs spread-eagled, he managed to halt the rolling and get onto his stomach. A hatch was but an arm’s length away. He scrabbled over to it and lifted the hatch cover wide enough to get inside and untied his harness.
The quiet inside the ship’s envelope was shocking. Open-frame walkways extended port and starboard, forward and aft, leading to all the huge spherical lifting bags. Directly in front of him was a large red circular wheel with a sign above it: EMERGENCY DUMP.
He cranked the wheel with desperate speed, then ran along the walkway to the next bag and did the same.
“How much to dump?” he wondered as he opened the second valve.
As he reached the third valve, a tremendous grinding and screeching of tortured metal came from the rear of the airship. The ship shook and shuddered. Alfred lost his footing and almost fell off the walkway. Sunlight streamed through long rents in the ship’s outer fabric. Dislodged rocks fell through the rips and into the ship as it bumped and ground along the rock face. Slowly the ship’s bow began to tilt downwards. Albert quickly closed the valves and waited.. The engines stopped. The downward angle of the airship’s nose remained constant but the airship remained intact.
Albert was relieved to realize that they were not falling to their deaths. He poked his head out through the hatch and took in the surreal sight of an expanse of stone above his head. The huge rudder had been sheared away and the rest of the tail twisted and bent but still there . Rocks were still falling onto the hull fabric before bouncing away to the earth below. The airship now unpowered was drifting slowly backwards, sheltered from the wind by the arch itself, but neither rising nor falling.
“Ahoy! You up there, who are you? Show yourself.”
Ducking back into the airship, Albert saw the Captain and several crewmen clambering up a tilted walkway. “It’s Albert,” he replied. “I am relieved to see you here!”
Puffing from the climb, the Captain explained. “We managed to repair one of the ladders.”
“Well done, Captain”
Tyse managed to gasp, How..?”
“I jumped from the plane to the Top Deck, reached the valves and dumped some gas. I can call myself a Top Man now,” said Albert, proudly holding up the grappling hook.”
“We have stopped rising then?”
“Yes, Captain. See for yourself. We are drifting free and are no longer under The Arch.”
“Well then, let us restore trim and get underway. Cook will not like lunch getting cold.”
Grinning from ear to ear Albert said, “And then a race to win.
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Can we have more? :) Thanks for sharing!
I wrote this for a contest and was stand alone. I may get inspired. Thanks for comment.
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