And so it was that Joseph found himself aboard Hughes’s famous airship H-1. Feeling swept up by events, he had followed the group across to the Royal Exchange, into the large elevator, and up to the rooftop landing pad. The majestic airship sat in the centre, dominating the view. When Joseph had watched it flying in earlier, it had seemed small and sleek, but up close, it was imposingly large, the curve of the gas envelope looming out overhead, and blocking the early morning sun. The elegant gondola sat neatly under this bulk, like a bus under a whale. Once again, Joseph found himself guiltily admiring what he saw. He followed the others across the landing pad to the entry hatch. Pausing to run a hand in wonder over the lustrously shined wood of the doorframe, he caught himself irritatedly and hurried aboard.
Inside were dark wood panels, polished brass fittings and instruments, and soft burgundy leather seats. A pretty blonde stewardess welcomed him aboard, and directed him to his seat. As he sat down he noticed that Hughes had taken the right-hand command seat at the front of the cabin, where he was going through the pre-flight checklist with the co-pilot. So Hughes flies his own airship, does he? Joseph felt simultaneously impressed and annoyed by this.
After closing the door, the stewardess turned and took the seat next to him, buckling herself in with quick, efficient movements. Joseph immediately felt awkward as he fumbled with his own seatbelt. I’m going to do something stupid, I just know I am. The stewardess turned to help him, and he mumbled his thanks, feeling his cheeks burn.
“I’m Betty, by the way,” said the stewardess in a soft American accent, turning on a dazzling smile. “I’m the stewardess on H-1.”
Joseph’s mouth went dry. Why am I getting so nervous? His brain seemed to be stuck as he looked down and away from her bright blue eyes. He forced himself to return her gaze. “I am Joseph Samson, and I work for Mr Churchill. At the bank. Do you live on Aeropolis? Well you must do, silly question really, how else could you always be available to work on H-1?” He became aware that he was speaking too quickly, and he stopped himself, blushing and dropping his gaze again.
When he looked back up again, Betty was smiling gently. “Well, you’re right, I do live on Aeropolis. Will this be your first visit?”
Joseph smiled and nodded as she launched into a spirited description of what Aeropolis was like, but inwardly he was seized with the sudden fancy that she knew what Monmouth had asked him to do. It was a ridiculous thought, but he couldn’t quite shake it. It must be because he felt guilty about his decision to spy on Hughes. How do real spies stand it, pretending to be something they’re not?
The whine of starter motors drew Joseph’s attention to the engine pod visible just forward of his porthole window, and he was hit with a sudden strong smell of aviation fuel as the engine roared into life, then throttled back to a rough idle. Joseph hadn’t flown for more than a year, but the old familiar excitement came fluttering up inside him as Hughes motioned for the mooring lines to be released, and then swivelled the engine pods upwards with a practiced twist on the brass control levers. The agile ship fairly sprang off the deck, the roar of aero engines rising to a crescendo. As soon as they had cleared the roof structures, Hughes rotated the great engines forwards, and the ship accelerated into a sweeping, climbing turn that brought them up over the City and pointed towards Aeropolis.
Joseph’s seat had an excellent view out of the forward-most port window. He didn’t know what to look at first. From this new perspective on the City, the old stone seemed to glow in the soft golden light, the sky pale blue fading to peach. The imposing bulk of the Bank of England dwindled rapidly, and then the Monument came into view, the gilded flames on its top already below them. They slipped smoothly across the north bank of the Thames and over the great river itself. Joseph imagined that the ship must look like a silver rugby ball flying towards Tower Bridge, as if it were an immense set of goalposts. They cleared the crossbar easily.
Turning to look out of the front windscreen, his eye was caught by Aeropolis, gleaming silver in the clear morning light. He watched it grow rapidly larger as H-1’s powerful engines closed the gap.
From below the main visible features were the two torus-shaped gas envelopes, one inside the other, that kept the vast city aloft. Betty pointed at them.
“Do you see those huge doughnut-shaped rings? Beneath the silver-painted fabric, there are great hoop-like girders of aluminium, holding immense gas cells. They contain more helium than exists in any other single structure anywhere on Earth.”
Joseph turned to look at her in surprise. But Betty was oblivious, staring at the enormous structure with rapt fascination.
“Those giant buttresses, now. The huge holes in them save weight, you know.” Joseph glanced at them, curving out from the girders. “But they’re still strong enough to support the deck.” Joseph supposed she meant the flat circular bit that sat on top of the toruses like a beer mat on a doughnut. He sighed and shook his head ruefully. As much as he tried not to be, he was fascinated and excited by what he was seeing.
“Do you get paid to talk about Aeropolis, like a tour guide?” he said, and then immediately felt bad. But Betty just smiled good-naturedly.
“I’m sorry if I seem a bit obsessed with Aeropolis. I guess I just love her so much!” She looked back at the object of her affection. Joseph felt slightly bemused by her attitude. And a tiny bit jealous, as well.
As H-1 gained altitude, more and more of the superstructure of the air city became visible above the great curved edge of the deck. First the central spike atop the control tower; and then the control tower itself, its panoramic windows facing out in all directions. Below the tower, the central structure of Aeropolis thickened and broadened, until at its base it took up about a third of the area of the main deck. As Betty continued her narration, he learned that it was composed of offices, private dwelling units, dormitories, barracks, bars, and restaurants. He could also see gun emplacements, communications arrays, balconies, promenades, viewing decks, and other structures whose purpose Joseph couldn’t even begin to guess at.
At last H-1 rose above the level of the deck, bringing into view the landing pads, flight offices, and refuelling stations that occupied the rest of the main deck space. The circumference of the deck was punctuated with gun emplacements and rocket launchers. As they drew nearer, Joseph realised, with a thrill of fear, that some of the guns were tracking them. Hughes reached up for the microphone, contacting the tower for permission to approach and land. After a brief pause, permission and approach instructions were given, and the guns swivelled away.
But not aimlessly. By watching where they aimed, Joseph could see that they were tracking about a dozen other airships and aircraft converging on Aeropolis. There were ponderous freighters, zippy pleasure cruisers, and enormous passenger liners. All were moving purposefully towards one or another of the many landing pads.
Joseph’s eye was suddenly caught by a small airship that was not following the pattern. As he stared out of his window, he could see that the craft was not moving towards Aeropolis at all, but was instead heading directly towards H-1, and at high speed!
He tore his gaze away from the approaching airship, and touched Betty’s arm. “What is that airship doing?”
She looked at Joseph slightly blankly, but when her gaze followed where Joseph’s shaking hand was pointing, her demeanour changed instantly. “Mr Hughes, sir!” she shouted. “Incoming at nine o’clock!”
Hughes glanced to his left, and instantly put the airship into a steep dive. Joseph gasped as his stomach seemed to float up inside him, and he heard cries of alarm from Churchill and the others in Hughes’s entourage. He turned to look out the window again: they had now descended below the level of the other airship, but it was still alarmingly close to them, and getting closer.
Joseph watched its nose, craning his head up as far as he could to follow it, until it moved beyond his field of view. He held his breath. Just as he started to think that the other airship had missed them, there was an impact which shook the entire airframe, followed by horrendous grinding and tearing noises — and then a high-pitched hissing sound, accompanied by periodic rapid flapping noises. “We’re losing lift gas!” someone shouted, panic in his voice.
The nose of H-1 pitched forward in a steep dive, and Joseph had to grab on to his seat arms to stay upright as his stomach seemed to do a somersault from the sudden drop. Ahead he saw, through the windshield, the green hills of south London, growing larger at horrifying speed. H-1 was heading straight for the ground, and a certain crash!
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