Cogs in Time Anthology (The Steamworks Series) (6 page)

The staunch Captain Billings commanded the military aspect of the expedition. Thrown in at the last minute by his old friend Colonel Shepherd, who oversaw the project and remained behind, Pierce was put in overall command of the expedition. He did not know any members of the
Independence’s
American crew, which included the pilot Joshua Gridley, the engineer, and seven “airmen.” He had only just met Billings and his ten men upon boarding the craft.

Murunga clung to a bulkhead support and stared out one of the windows at the green grass a hundred feet below. Although his scarred face rarely smiled, his eyes shone with excitement.

“This is wonderful,” he said.

“Coming into position, Captain Pierce,” the pilot said as he eased the wheel around.

“Where's the portal?” Pierce asked. He stepped toward the front, just behind the pilot. Next to him was a polished wood panel, loaded with dials and brass switches. He clasped his hands behind his back to prevent the urge to tap the dials or push one of the levers.

Gridley glanced over his shoulder at Pierce. “You mean you don't know?”

Billings chuckled. “He was brought in at the last minute, Gridley. He doesn't know much of anything.”

Pierce turned to glare at the officer, who immediately lost his pompous grin.

“Let's just say, Mr. Gridley,” Pierce said, “that I haven't been fully briefed on details. All I know about the Tesla portal is that one has been modified to support this airship. It must be extremely large. Where is it?” He looked out the front widows but saw only pasture.

A hatch to the upper deck clanged shut and shoes tapped on the rungs of the ladder as someone climbed down to the control room.

“You're in it, Captain Pierce.”

The woman pulled an oil-stained cloth from the pocket of her baggy trousers and wiped her hands. She was about thirty, her black hair tied back, wearing a blue blouse with the sleeves rolled back. A belt around her waist carried a leather pouch overflowing with tools. The cuffs of her brown trousers were stuffed into heavy, laced boots.

“Beg pardon?” Pierce said.

She walked around him to the panel of controls and began throwing levers. “I said, you're in it. The Tesla portal. This airship is one big Tesla.”

Because she was American, like the pilot and the rest of the ship's crew, Pierce could ignore her brash behavior. For now.

“I'm sorry,” Pierce said. “I don't understand. How can an airship be a portal?”

“Didn't you notice the superstructure?” she asked.

Pierce recalled his first look at the craft, moored on the pasture. “Oh, you mean the copper tubing on the outside. Sorry, haven't seen many airships. I thought it was typical or just fancy.”

She glanced from her dials to him, then back to her work. “That's right, you've spent the last ten years in Africa while the rest of the world has been going through a scientific revolution. Well, those aren't copper tubes on the superstructure, they're coils.”

“Ah, Faraday coils!”

“Good, so you aren't a complete Neanderthal. Yes, Faraday coils. Instead of a stationary portal, we are portable. We dial in the frequency on this panel, activate the coils, and produce the Tesla field directly in front of the ship. The field runs along the length of the ship, and we pass through to the other side.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Pierce said. “Did Tesla invent this, too?”

She shot him a scowl. “Tesla developed the first prototype based on Faraday's experiments. My father modified them to build the actual portals, but had to use Tesla's name in order to patent. This airship modification is my own design.”

“Impressive,” Pierce said, looking over the interior of the ship.
The woman must be brilliant.

“This,” Billings said, waving a hand at the woman, “is Miss Elizabeth Fletcher. Her father is Elias Fletcher, owner of Fletcher Industries and of the
Independence
.”

She wiped her palm on the side of her trouser and shoved her hand out to Pierce. “Liz Fletcher and
I
own the
Independence
. Your government just happens to be borrowing it.” She shot a disapproving look at Billings. “I'm also the engineer.”

Pierce took her hand in a strong shake. “Harrison Pierce. And you are absolutely brilliant.”

Her blue eyes gave him a serious study before she turned back to her panel, probably weighing whether he was patronizing her or being sincere.

Pierce clasped his hands behind his back again and watched out the forward windows, which were wider than those running along the sides of the craft. “To produce such a large field, you must need a great deal of energy.”

“We have a series of batteries that power the Tesla. They recharge from our engines, though it takes a couple of hours.”

“Isn't electricity dangerous on these airships?” he asked, remembering that the gas was highly combustible. He had read about some terrible accidents over recent years.

“Not to worry, Captain Pierce,” she said, flashing him a grin. “
Independence
, unlike any other airship, does not use hydrogen. We won't blow up, at least from a spark.”

He was about to ask what they used to keep the ship aloft when she began counting backward to zero, threw a larger lever on the panel, and the airship deck vibrated violently. Pierce blinked at the brightness of the sun streaming through the windows. Appearing out of nowhere, in front of the airship, a tall, narrow pole stood. The pilot spun the wheel and the ship eased to the right, barely missing the pole.

“Where did that come from?” Pierce asked.

“It's the antenna,” Liz Fletcher said.

There hadn't been one in the pasture before. Pierce stepped closer to the windows on the left and looked out. Sure enough, there was the aerial, reaching two hundred feet into the air. Below the cruising airship was the lush green of a jungle canopy where moments before had been flat pasture. At the base of the aerial was a small clearing with a small brass rectangle, the Tesla portal the British had installed.

“Wonderful!” Murunga exclaimed. “Is this truly another world?”

“Yes, Murunga. It would appear.”

“It resembles the Congo, but much different.”

Pierce agreed. Thick jungle, like on their expedition into the Congo, but the greens were more vibrant, something Shepherd's photographs could not relate. In addition, flowers of red and blue bloomed among the trees. Whether they were of the trees themselves or from vines interwoven among the branches, Pierce couldn't tell, but he was anxious to examine them. Just the flora and fauna would take months to catalog, and that wasn't their primary concern.

“Where is the city?” he asked. If Sam and his expedition had survived, they would have made for that.

“Getting ourselves oriented,” Liz said. “We are no longer on Earth, so the compass points are different.”

“I don't think you need to bother, Miss Fletcher,” Billings said. He pointed out the windows on the right side of the control room. “It's over there.”

Pierce went to the windows and looked out. Murunga followed him, grabbing hold of any strut or support he could find as he crossed the deck, as though he might float away like the airship floated over the green canopy.

“Not much of a city,” Billings said. “I see only one building.”

“Yes,” Pierce agreed. “But such a building! Look at the size of it, Billings. We must be two miles away, and it's half that distance in length.”

The airship rose higher above the thick canopy, and the shape of the building slowly became discernible. It was a huge square, nearly a mile on each side, rising higher than the trees surrounding it, with no visible window or other opening. As the ship gained altitude, an inner square could be seen, an indented area two or three hundred feet on each side, like a large courtyard.

“Perhaps we could land there,” Pierce said.

“My thoughts exactly,” Liz said. “Mr. Gridley, take us down.” She uncorked a speaking tube next to the wheel, blew through it, and told crewmembers to ready the moorings.

“I suggest some of my men be lowered down to investigate the area first,” Billings said. “As a precaution.”

“Can we try a more diplomatic approach this time, Billings?” Pierce said. “If there are any people down there, I don't think they would appreciate an armed force knocking at their door. It tends to give the wrong impression.”

“And if this is a fortification and not just a big storehouse,” Billings said, “they are not going to take kindly to our ship descending on them. Two men lowered down on ropes just to make certain they aren't hostile.”

“Two men,” Pierce said. “As scouts. Lightly armed. And tell them not to shoot unless they are in grave danger. I don't want them easily frightened by the sight of unearthly creatures.”

Billings stiffened in indignation. “Captain Pierce, you are speaking of soldiers in Her Majesty's Royal Army. You, above all others on board, should know we are not frightened by anything, earthly or unearthly.”

“And you, Captain Billings, seem to overlook that I have seen a number of battles and am aware that some men, British included, tend to shoot at things they don't understand. I am merely advising caution.”

Billings nodded. “As am I.”

He climbed the ladder to the upper decks, and soon brought down two men dressed in red tunics, with white helmets and belts, Webley revolvers at their hips. Liz Fletcher instructed her crewmen to lower the soldiers on ropes from the open gangway at the rear of the control room. The airship descended, and as the gangway was lowered, hot, humid air rushed into the cabin. The scent of sweet blossoms and rotting vegetation mingled with oil and engine fuel. When the soldiers reached the ground, the airship lifted higher.

The courtyard was devoid of vegetation. It appeared to be constructed of the same smooth stone-like material as the rest of the building. No windows were in the high walls, but there were some rectangular doors at intervals. The two soldiers crossed to one of the doors and tried to force it open. One man eventually found a catch in the frame, and the door slid into the wall. They both drew their revolvers and disappeared inside.

A long five minutes later, one man reappeared, his Webley back in its holster. He waved both arms for the airship to land.

“I wonder where everyone is,” Pierce said, staring down at the vast square structure.

The
Independence
crew busied themselves with landing, and Billings climbed the ladder to prepare the rest of his men for the exploration of the building.

Murunga stood beside Pierce and looked down at him. “Captain?”

“Such a huge building, in the middle of a jungle. And a strange ship comes down out of the sky. Didn't anyone notice? Where are the people who live here?”

“
Ndiyo
, it gives me a strange feeling, like a ghost village. A village deserted after a terrible illness. I'm beginning not to like this voyage.”

Pierce grinned and slapped Murunga's shoulder. “It's the unknown, my friend. That's why we're here.”
And that's what keeps us alive
, he thought,
not stagnating in a bungalow on the African savanna
.

“There's nothing to tie the mooring lines to,” Liz Fletcher said from her place next to the pilot. Her crew was on the ground, holding fore and aft lines, preventing the craft from drifting away. “The ground is too hard for them to pound in anchor hooks. I don't know what it's made of, but they can't even crack it.”

“Then we'll get out, and the
Independence
will have to lift off and stay nearby,” Pierce said. “Can you keep the ship above the courtyard, ready to retrieve us when we need it?”

“Mr. Gridley can. I'm going with you, Mr. Pierce.”

“I don't think that's wise,” Pierce said.

“Because I'm a woman? Spare me your misplaced gallantry, Captain. Aside from the search and rescue mission, your objective is to study their version of the portals. You're no scientist, and Billings certainly isn't. I'm an engineer. I designed and built this airship, which is a flying Tesla portal. I started helping my father improve on Tesla's primitive designs when I was twelve, and in the last five years, I've improved my father's designs. So, do you know of anyone else who knows more about the Tesla portals?”

“No, can't say I do,” Pierce said. “Very well, then. Murunga, please stay close to Miss Fletcher.”

Her eyes flashed in anger. “I don't need your servant to follow me around, Captain.”

Murunga tightened his jaw, making the ritual scars more pronounced.

Pierce stepped closer to Liz and kept his voice low and sharp. “Miss Fletcher, Murunga is a Maasai warrior, the son of a chieftain. And he is my friend. You can be as condescending to me all you like, but treat him with respect, and never call him a servant.”

Murunga relaxed his features. “Captain Pierce is my captain, miss. Besides, he pays me well.”

Liz Fletcher reddened. “I'm sorry, Murunga. I just thought because you're dressed up like an English gentleman and all...”

Pierce motioned to Murunga's dark slacks, waistcoat, and jacket. “He chooses to dress like that. European culture is something of an obsession with him. Actually, I find it embarrassing. He spends all his wages on clothing.”