Uchronie Read online

  ‘Are her other weapons hidden?’ I shouted.

  ‘That’s the sole gun.’ Ginger shouted back.

  ‘One gun?!’ I gasped, looking down at the tiny pointed weapon. ‘It looks like a whaling ship’s harpoon gun. How old fashioned is this steam hulk?’

  ‘She was built in 1899 by a group of Victorian millionaires and...’

  ‘Yes, the Hindenburg crew told me that. ’I shouted. ’ but I only half believed them.’

  ‘Like I said before, there are lots of myths about the Uchronie,’ shouted Ginger, flying in front of the massive dreadnought, ‘and most of them are true.’

  Ginger dropped down beneath the prow and lined the nose of the plane up with the point of the ridiculous harpoon gun.

  Above us, a smooth riveted hatch opened among a tangle of polished copper steam pipes and fuliginous exhausts.

  ‘That’s our way in. ‘shouted Ginger, slowing down to 70 knots. ‘The steamchav will pull us aboard.’

  I looked up incredulously at a white track-suited, Burberry capped, airman making hand signals from inside the hatch.

  Ginger waved back with thumbs up and, suddenly, two rubber covered hooks on long black ropes snaked down from the hatch above.

  After attaching them to the balance point of our plane Ginger cut the engine and, for a few moments, the only noise was of fresh sunlit air rushing past as we hung suspended in the slipstream.

  The angels silence did not last long as steam winches hauled us up into a noisy, dark, furnace room smelling of soot, coal and oil.

  ‘Hey Ginge.’ said the burly steamchav, saluting Ginger, as the iron hatch slid shut beneath us. ‘We been ‘specting you.’

  ‘Hey Dwayne, how’s it runnin’?’ asked Ginger, leaping out in a single bound as I stood up slowly, rubbing feeling back into my legs.

  ‘The ol’ girl’s playin’ up somefin’ terrible innit.’ said Dwayne, turning his Burberry baseball cap at a ninety degree angle,’ You’d need ten chavs shovellin’ nuggets of Blackpool rock all day to keep ‘er fast enuff for DeBlanc.’

  ‘And you’re doing it single handed.’ grinned Ginger, reholstering his W@ve pistol.

  Dwayne grunted. ‘There’s, like, an engineer, in the boiler room.’

  ‘Oh! This is Nate.’ said Ginger, stepping back so they could watch me clamber out of the triplane. ‘He’s here to see DeBlanc.’

  Shakily, clutching my backpack, I stepped forwards.

  ‘Wotcher lookin’ at grebo?’ said the steamchav, saluting me with two fingers and giving the flowers in my top pocket a funny look.

  The coins and Christmas cracker rings on Dwayne’s tattooed fingers were covered in scratches. He had his white tracksuit bottoms tucked into rip off tartan socks framed by bright yellow trainers.

  ‘He’s from the Hindenburg.’ said Ginger, hauling open the heavy iron blast door to a well lit boiler room. ‘Come on Nate… through the firewall.’

  In the bright steamy light a girl stood astride a steam pipe with her black gloved hands clenched on her hips. The delicate pendant on her silver necklace sparkled green, white and purple against her moist skin. She wore a sleeveless brown ribbed corset-style top, Victorian lace collar and pleated skirt. Several inches of creamy smooth leg displayed between her fringed skirt and short brown studded boots.

  ‘Ah… and this is Lolly.’ said Ginger. ‘Our chief engineer.’

  ‘Good morning Ginger,’ said Lolly, kissing him on the cheek, ’I’m glad you’re back. I waited for you last night... but… who is this charming fellow?’

  ‘This is Nate,’ said Ginger, ‘our new observer.’

  ‘Oh, I do like your flowers Nate,’ said Lolly, smiling at me sweetly. ‘It’s nice to see a touch of colour on a man, something a bit different from all the usual brown and black.’

  I smiled back as Ginger hauled open a riveted circular door in the opposite wall.

  ‘Mauve carnations.’ she said, leaning close to examine them. ‘Lovely! They’re my birth flower Nate.’

  The scent of her perfume was like fresh air among the culmiferous stench of coal dust and steam.

  ‘Mauve is such an unusual colour.’ she murmured. ‘I believe it symbolises fantastic dreams... do you have fantastic dreams, Nate?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ I said, shaking my head as the gold chained Dwayne came in and stood taking readings from the brass and glass dials on his hand held loxodograph.

  ‘Different colours have different meanings.’ whispered Lolly, looking deep into my eyes, ‘Red means love… it means “my heart aches for you!” The deeper the red, the deeper the love, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ I said feeling my cheeks redden under her adamant gaze. ‘Um…What about the colours of your pendant?’

  ‘Green - White - Violet.’ said Lolly, proudly, ‘Give - Women - Votes!’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ I said. ‘The Suffragettes.’

  ‘It was my understanding that women already had equal voting rights.’ said Ginger, still holding open the circular door.

  ‘Not everywhere.’ said Lolly, flashing him a fierce look. ‘There is still much for us women to do.’

  Ginger made a show of examining his pocket watch with his free hand.

  ‘And yellow carnations mean “YOU have disappointed me” and symbolise disdain.’ continued Lolly, giving Ginger another withering look. ‘And the sprigs of white delphinium among Nate’s carnations signify…’

  ‘Another time and place, perhaps.’ said Ginger, stroking his moustache with the back of his hand. ’ We need to get a move on, Lolly, Commander DeBlanc is expecting us.’

  ‘Go on up and see him on your own then.’ said Lolly, turning her back on him, ‘Nate is quite the congeniator. Tell daddy I’ll bring him up in a few minutes.’

  Ginger let the door clang shut as he walked away.

  ‘You’re the commander’s daughter.’ I gasped.

  ‘Yes, yes... Lolly DeBlanc. Don’t be too impressed… the rest of the crew aren’t. The iron steamchavs don’t like me.’ she whispered, looking over at Dwayne, ’and the command crew don’t speak to me because daddy’s the Commander of the Chronological Order. I’m doubly damned.’

  ‘By a Double Duke.’ I said, trying to be smart and then wishing I hadn‘t.

  ‘Yes, quite.’ said Lolly, with a wry smile. ’He’s related to Queen Victoria you know. You’ll have heard the joke about mummy being a double Duchess and speaking double Dutch, I suppose?’

  ‘Ginger may have mentioned it.’ I said, again wishing I hadn‘t opened my mouth.

  ‘Did he indeed.’ said Lolly, turning to young Dwayne ‘Listen iron! We’s goin’ top deck. The thrunge plate and the afterburner are off line so everything should be sorted for an hour or so, alright.’

  Dwayne nodded sullenly, his deathly white face hidden by his snidey Burberry baseball cap.

  ‘Keep the regulator below ten, no matter how much power he asks for.’ said Lolly, ’The Dilithium pistons won’t take it. Keep her on gas phase and remember to check your manometer.’

  Dwayne grunted without looking at her.

  See … he doesn’t like me.’ whispered Lolly, leading me out the circular door. ‘These steamchavs hate taking orders from a woman.’

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ I asked nervously, as we stepped through into a cavernous hall where massive pistons and geared wheels performed a polished mechanical ballet.

  ‘Don’t have a panic attack.’ said Lolly, taking my hand. ‘The ghost in the machine is only ever seen on Friday the thirteenth. The quickest way to the bridge is to get a free ride up on the pistons.’

  ‘What?’ I said, looking up at the mass of churning machinery.

  ‘Come on, we do it all the time.’ said Lolly, pulling me on to a rising column of brass. Together we rode up towards the luminous roof of the chamber.

  ‘Jump over when we get to the top.’ said Lolly, pointing to a slowly rotating wheel above us.’ You have to time it properly so you don’t fall between the sp
okes.’

  Lolly jumped first, hopping from rising piston to gyratory wheel in one graceful move.

  ‘Hurry up.’ she shouted, holding her gloved hands out to me, ’You’ll lose me if I go round into the tunnel.’

  I jumped quickly, landed on one foot, caught her hand and spun round in an arabesque before finding my balance.

  ‘You move well Nate.’ said Lolly, gently taking my other hand. ‘Do you dance?’

  ‘I have been known to take to the floor.’ I said.

  ‘Were holding the annual St Arwar’s ball on Saturday night… tomorrow.’ said Lolly, as the slow moving wheel conduced us into the dark tunnel, ‘It’s usually on May the fourth but daddy rescheduled it to the nearest weekend You must come along and meet everyone.’

  ‘Thanks for the invite.’ I said, smelling her wonderful perfume close to me again. ‘I’ll do that.’

  ‘This is where the ghost of Holon, the mad monk, is seen.’ whispered Lolly, as clouds of blue vapour surrounded us. ‘Stay close to me.’

  In the hidden depths of the tunnel she pulled me across to a huge geared wheel turning in the opposite direction.

  ’This one’s a bit fast.’ she said, squeezing my hand in the dark, ‘but the bridge is just up there.’

  Face to face, with our arms round each other, the geared wheel conveyed us smoothly out of the narrow tunnel and slid us on to the upper deck.

  Ginger was standing in a mahogany doorway still making a show of examining his black Spider pocket watch.

  ’What’s happening down below then?’ said Lolly, leaving me and linking her arm in to Ginger’s.

  I looked around, unsure where to go.

  Ginger pushed open the polished wooden door. ‘Enter and be judged.’ he said, walking away with Lolly. ‘See you next Tuesday.’

  ~~~~~~~~~

  My heart sank as I entered the humming, clicking control room alone. Sunlight flooded the whole room from above, revealing that it had been furnished in the most severe taste. It was all brass, mirrors and polished rosewood inlaid with copper; it smelt of hot steam and charcoal.

  At a neat central console, beside a rare Angrec orchid in a spherical pot, Commander DeBlanc sat in red and gold military tunic, his arms folded on his enormous stomach.

  He was dual screening.

  A large viewing screen towered above him and a smaller one nestled in his left hand. His gold monocled eye surveyed me with profound attention as I entered his domain.

  At that moment the numerous clocks chimed nine o‘clock.

  After a full minutes silence, which I would not have dreamed of breaking, he spoke.

  ‘Come in lad,’ he said, with perfect ease, ‘you must be Nate.’

  I stood to attention and saluted him. ‘Sir! Yes sir.’

  ‘Stand at ease, lad.’ he boomed, a half smile curling his mouth. ‘Ginger’s had to leave but he’ll be back on Monday night. He tells me you’ve been told that I am a bit of a tyrant.’

  ‘Sir.’ I said regarding him with fear, mingled with interest; not sure what to say.

  ‘Look at this.’ he said, leaning over a steaming dome on his console and pointing to an engraved bar of gold nestling among the diverse medals on his broad chest.

  Commander of the Chronological Order -Tirant DeBlanc

  ‘We run a tight ship here.’ he said, with laughter twinkling in his brown eyes, ’But not so tight that we can’t have a little fun now and then.’

  I nodded, silently miscalling the crew of the Hindenburg. My so called chumrades.

  ‘The Uchronie is the only ship of its type in the skies.’ he said, leaning back and lifting the bell shaped dome to reveal a heated food tray. ‘The normal rules do not apply here.’

  The smell of grilled sausages, scrambled eggs and hot muffins made my stomach rumble as I eyed the sumptuous spread. No wonder he was fat.

  ‘Ah, Nate, you must be hungry.’ he said, offering me a napkin. ‘Sit down.’

  ‘Yes sir.’ I said, again feeling rather sheepish.

  ‘And no doubt thirsty.’ said DeBlanc, turning off his big screen. ‘How about a stout cup of Darjeeling, strong enough to reinvigorate Her Majesties economies?’

  He poured two cups and handed me one. ‘Help yourself to milk, Nate.’

  ‘You do me a great honour sir.’ I said, accepting the Victorian cup and saucer.

  ‘Eat, Nate.’ he boomed, looking at me sternly. ‘I can recommend these sausages for their moral rectitude and the scrambled eggs have been well beaten!! It’s the only way they’ll learn discipline!!!’

  I looked at him, realised that he was joking, and smiled.

  ‘Eggcelsior.’ he roared with laughter, slapping the golden hilt of his sword. ‘You will do well aboard the Uchronie, Nate.’

  ‘May I be permitted to ask a question?’

  ‘You just did. lad.’ he said, typing something into his hand held screen.

  ‘Ah, you have the advantage of me, sir.’ I said, taking a muffin. ‘Ahem… You say the Uchronie is the only aether ship of its type in the world, but that single gun mounted on your prow will not protect you against the scores of fixed wing aircraft, rockets and guns that are currently being developed down below. There are hand pistols out there now that are more powerful than your tiny harpoon gun.’

  ‘I doubt that.’ said the commander, piling sausages and scrambled eggs on to his plate. ’You call it a single gun but it is, in fact, a sole gun… S.O.L.E. gun.’

  ‘What does that stand for?’ I asked, spreading marmalade on my muffin. ‘Steam Operated Lance Ejector.’

  ‘I must remember that one.’ he said, regarding me from beneath an amused brow. ‘No lad! It means Speed Of Light Engagement. It is the fastest, newest, most classified weapon yet designed by Wells and Verne. The firing of the weapon and destruction of its target are simultaneous … at the speed of light.’

  I chewed on my muffin.

  ‘The Uchronie wants for no means of destruction,’ he said, looking down at my Nerf pistol, ‘and her gunner is world class. W@ve …Wells and Verne… are standard issue aboard the Uchronie. I will request that our armourer, Captain Wright, brings you a Duellist.’

  As we ate and talked I realised that Commander Tirant DeBlanc and his flying ironclad were not as old fashioned and out of date as they first appeared.

  He was indeed a worthy airman. He sat easily at the heart of his aether ship issuing commands on his hand held device… and he was the very soul of it.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Once we had breakfasted he turned to more serious matters.

  ‘So the Hindenburg didn’t crash and burn.’ he said, pouring his tea leaves into the budding Comet orchid on his desk. ‘You can never trust these hydrogen filled airships.’

  ‘One of the passengers seems to have placed the bomb.’ I said, taking the newspaper sheet from my bag.

  ‘I know the press are blaming the passengers,’ said DeBlanc, ‘but we have advance information that connects the attempted bombing to Adolf Hitler.’

  ‘Adolf Hitler, the German Chancellor?’ I said. ‘The Hindenburg crew spoke very highly of him as an orator; they say he is revitalising Germany.’

  ‘That man is destabilising World Order.’ said DeBlanc. ‘There is a battle raging between two political super powers in Europe and it is my task to make Great Britain’s position more secure.’

  ‘How will you achieve that?’ I asked.

  Well… you may be the key to that.’ said DeBlanc, pushing a button that caused iron plates to slide over the windows set in the plaster scrollwork ceiling. ‘As our new Observer you should see this. I’m going to switch the

  Tachyscreen back on and show you something you will soon be trained in.’

  As the room darkened, I sat back in my comfortable chair and watched him closely.

  ‘We’re going upstream,’ said DeBlanc, ‘so you may experience some pulsations.’

  Friday May 7 1937 HINDENBURG LANDS SAFELY appeared on the big Tachyscreen.

>   ‘Now, I don’t know how familiar you are with the workings of the Tachyscreen but you’ll soon pick it up.’ he said, typing in numbers. ‘The next time May 7 falls on a Friday is 1943, so let’s add six years and have a look.’

  The year on the Tachyscreen changed to 1943 and another headline swam into focus

  Friday, May 7 1943: VICTORY IN EUROPE. NAZI’S WIN WORLD WAR 2.

  ‘Hmm, that’s what we were afraid off.’ said DeBlanc, scrolling the years forward as the room rumbled and vibrated. ‘Let’s see what else is predicted.’