The Derring-Do Club and the Empire of the Dead (29 page)

“Sounds painful.”

“They are dead, they feel nothing, and the last regiment of our troops will be en route soon.”

They finished their hot chocolate.

“Mein Liebchen, do you have any more questions?”

“Oh yes,” said Charlotte. “Can I get to fly the Zeppelin again?”

“Of course, you would be in charge of a fleet of Zeppelins. Princess, my Liebchen, I have such plans.”

There it was: Her Royal Highness, Admiral of the Air; she’d have a uniform and wear trousers and be someone other than the youngest of three.

“Yes,” she said.

The Graf stood, clicked his heels and bowed: “I must check on progress. We are coming in to land.”

The deck had shifted, the schnapps flowing up the side of the bottle showing the true angle of the deck. They had been descending for a while.

“Of course, can I…” and then Charlotte remembered her sister hiding under the bunk. “I shall rest here if I may.”

“Of course, until later then.”

He bowed again, ever the officer and gentleman, and left.

Charlotte considered him: his handsome features, the aquiline nose, his pointed beard, his piercing eyes and his funny, but charming, accent. Most of all, she thought about his uniform with its black epaulettes and–

“Ow!”

Earnestine hit her heel again and struggled out from under the bunk.

“Charlotte! Charlotte! Words utterly fail me.”

“He was nice and we are related.”

“He’s planning to conquer the British Empire.”

“Oh that.”

“Yes, that.”

“I’m sure not… I didn’t really… do you like my uniform?”

“You are a silly girl, a stupid, silly girl.”

“You can’t talk to me like that, I’m royalty.”

“Do you know what happened to the Princess?”

“I’m the Princess.”

“The real Princess.”

“I’m a real Princess, I’m married to a Prince.”

“The real Princess with whom you exchanged places.”

“No… yes, she went back to elope with her Hauptmann.”

“She was thrown off the battlements of the Eagle’s Claw castle. In your coat, your best coat. Georgina thought it was you. You really upset her. And that’s what will happen to you. And you’ll deserve it. They’ll throw you out and it’s a lot further down to the ground from a Zeppelin.”

Earnestine was angry, blinking and tightening her lips.

“Did you listen to what that dreadful man said?” Earnestine demanded.

Always about the listening, Charlotte thought: “Of course I listened.”

“And?”

“I get to wear a uniform and fly a Zeppelin.”

“And the rest of it, the military strategy and his tactical plans.”

“Oh, that. It sounded like a History lesson. Do you remember Miss Green and her interminable–”

“Charlotte!”

“Did he really kill the Princess?”

“Yes, and everyone at the college.”

“What college?”

“The Eden College for Young Ladies.”

“Oh.”

Earnestine checked her strange rubber mask, fussing and angry. Charlotte thought about her own uniform, the tight cut and the wonderful trousers and suddenly realised what it represented. The badges weren’t mere brooches and jewellery, they had meaning: the Sky Navy had real bombs, real guns, real…

“We shot at people on a train.”

“I know.”

“It was… far away.”

“It wasn’t far away for me.”

“They were like dolls. It didn’t seem to count. It was like a game. I didn’t think–”

“No, Charlotte, you didn’t think. You were shooting at Georgina and me, and people died, quite horribly.”

“Oh, bally hell.”

“Don’t swear!”

“Sorry.”

Earnestine looked out of the window: trees tops were visible: “It’s bad enough with you being on the wrong side,” she said, “a traitor no less–”

“I am not.”

Earnestine turned on her: “Don’t lie! You’re a traitor.”

Charlotte felt tears welling in her eyes. Earnestine never valued her and always had an angry word. It wasn’t fair: “I’m not, I’m just… playing the double game like… this is an adventure, isn’t it?”

“Charlotte Deering–Dolittle, this is not an adventure.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” said Earnestine, emphatically. “Now, I’m going to disguise myself as a soldier and escape, and you will find a way to escape too. We have to warn Whitehall and the War Office and save the British Empire.”

“If you say so.”

“Yes, I do say so.”

Earnestine pulled on her rubber mask, straightened her coat and marched out.

Charlotte followed, utterly cowed. A soldier stopped Earnestine after they’d gone through the dining room. They struggled for a moment by the exit with the open air behind them, both dangerously close to the edge.

“She’s… He’s with me,” Charlotte shouted.

The soldier saluted.

Without looking back, Earnestine swung herself out into the open air and disappeared.

Other soldiers came past too.

The airship had docked and the rope ladder descended to an open field. The soldiers hesitated at the end before they dropped the last few feet and rolled in the grass. Soon there were enough men deployed to handle the ropes and tie the massive vehicle to the ground.

“Liebchen?” the Graf asked.

Charlotte jumped in shock.

The Graf put a concerned hand upon her shoulder. His touch was heavy.

With the dexterity of long practice, the men off–loaded their equipment and then the ropes were released again. The Zeppelin took to the air, the ground below dropped away leaving her in this metal and canvas prison in the sky.

“Mein Liebchen, are you all right?”

“The wind in my eyes, that’s all.”

“Ja, of course.”

Below, one of the soldiers, masked, stared up at the rising Zeppelin with big, blank, but nonetheless accusing eyes.

Chapter XIV

Miss Deering-Dolittle

Earnestine’s plan had failed at the first hurdle. There was far too much security and the fences were formidable. She was also still dressed as a Bug Eye, so she ended up helping with large canvas bags that required two people to carry. They sagged awkwardly in the middle, making them tricky to move. The man opposite had shouted some instructions in German, so Earnestine had replied with “Jawohl”? and then added some deep grunts.

The bags went into wooden crates clearly marked in German, French and English for delivery to an address in London via the West India Docks. This immediately suggested another plan: she’d simply stow away in the crate and wait until she heard cockney voices unloading the crates upon arrival.

She carried three bags in all. They arrived by horse drawn cart and the crates were being loaded into cattle trucks on a train. The rail line terminated here and went out through some woods beyond going presumably to a port. Thankfully the whole operation was performed with great efficiency, the carts being reversed as close to the train as possible, so that it could all be completed quickly.

When the moment came, when the men were looking away, Earnestine put her leg over the crate and hopped in, quickly lying down and shuffling the last bag over herself. Another weight landed on top of her, before the crate lid was placed over and nailed down with awful finality.

Panic!

If the crate would be airtight, then she’d suffocate, but moving the bag aside she saw light streaming in from various knot holes and the gaps between the planks. The crates were well made, but from cheap materials.

The crate was hoisted onto the train; she felt the giddy moment of flight and the unceremonious landing.

She waited.

Her bed, such as it was, was comfortable once she’d shifted it around. Whatever was in the bags was sharp and soft in varying degrees.

Finally, she heard the carriages door clattered shut. It was dark now.

After what seemed like an eternity, while they loaded the other cattle trucks, there came whistles, shouts and the familiar hiss of a steam engine. The crate jerked and then, in fits and starts at first, the train went on its way.

Should she fall asleep?

The clattering start of the journey had shifted her position, so she shuffled and jiggled until she was comfortable again… except for this sharp… what was this? It was awkward to reach her pocket, but eventually she eased out her flashlight and moved it up her body to her face.

She couldn’t turn it on for too long.

Flash: the bags were still sealed.

Flash: the stitching could be pulled. She did this in the dark, feeling the rough cord with her fingers, finally she yanked it open.

Flash: there was something dark, difficult to make out. She pulled the canvas apart again and it ripped coming open.

Flash: it was some round object, dark and made of fur. She turned it.

Flash: oh, it was a man’s face and
I must not explore, I must not
… Earnestine dropped the flashlight and retched. It was a body, a man’s body, and all the bags contained cadavers. She was trapped in a crate of corpses. Panic rose, utter terror, and she flailed about to escape, but all she did was cause the bodies to shift and so she sank between them.

It was a train of the dead.

Miss Georgina

She asked only how Arthur had escaped; it seemed incredible that he was just here.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always keep you safe,” he said.

“But how?”

“I caught the next train,” he said, sipping his whiskey. They’d all gathered in the smoking room once Georgina had freshened up. “Although there was something of a delay due to some problem on the line.”

“The next train?”

“It is the steam age, they have timetables on the continent too.”

Gently, by tiny degrees, the trio extracted as much information as they could. Georgina wanted to help: she described the Zeppelin attack, the bomb that released the yellow smoke, the soldiers in their frightening masks with snouts like those doctors in plague times.

Caruthers and Merryweather exchanged a worried glance: “Gas?” they said together.

Georgina corrected them: “Smoke. It killed, choking death and their skin blistered, it smelt like cooking or mustard or beef: it was… horrible.”

Arthur put his hand on hers.

“We separated the engine from the coaches to get more speed and to keep – they boarded the train from the air – and Earnestine… she was on the other side when it came apart.”

Arthur squeezed her hand: “Perhaps she survived.”

“No, I saw her fall, fighting one of those Bug Eyes, and there was smoke everywhere. It’s all right, she would want me to be brave.”

McKendry and Caruthers stepped aside to talk privately. It was so quiet that Georgina could hear every word.

“Pyro?” McKendry asked.

“Sulphur mustard from Zeppelins, it’s an horrific thought.”

“And the silver iodide?”

“I don’t think that reacts usefully.”

“Perhaps it’s another weapon?”

“It’s used to make daguerreotypes, Merry said.”

“I said,” Georgina interrupted. “But they have far, far too much of it according to what Earnestine saw.”

“Perhaps she was mistaken?” Caruthers suggested.

“Earnestine, mistaken? No, never.”

“Daguerreotypes? Galvanic processes? They are up to something. Mac, I think you should take the first train to England. Now. Don’t pack, go. The sooner you get word to the Club, the Admiralty and St John Brodrick, the better.”

“Yes, Sir.”

McKendry turned on his heel and his long strides took him quickly away.

“And I have arrangements to make too – Merry, Miss Deering–Dolittle,” Caruthers said, turning to take his leave.

Georgina wanted to correct him. She was only Miss Georgina. The eldest sister was Miss Deering–Dolittle, Earnestine, who was… so now she was the eldest, and perhaps even the only one of them left. Arthur held out a handkerchief, which seemed a very strange gesture.

“You are a remarkable girl,” he said.

“I don’t feel so, but thank you.”

“Georgina?”

“Yes?”

“I was w– w– wondering…”

“Yes?”

“Nothing, n– never mind, it’ll wait.”

Caruthers, Merryweather and Georgina caught a cab to Gard du Nord station and then they boarded an express to Calais. Suddenly, speed was of the essence. There had been reports of Zeppelins manoeuvring north and Caruthers complained about the low cloud. Whole fleets of airships could be crossing the Channel utterly unseen. What could the Royal Navy do? There was nothing in Plymouth to stop this armada. Considering Caruthers and Merryweather’s fears, Georgina despaired: what could they do?

The bustle of French gentlemen and Parisian ladies was too much for Georgina and the sight of the trains was a nightmare, but she steeled herself and climbed aboard: get back on the horse, she thought.

The train was a step down from the Orient Express, but, after they’d settled, they made their way to the restaurant coach to find the menu quite tolerable, once it was translated from French. Georgina ordered coffee with croissants and then stared out of the window letting the blur of scenery defocus her eyes and empty her head.

The journey seemed interminable and then Calais came all too quickly.

Caruthers saw them through border control with their passports and a ten franc note. The
Mary
was already boarding, so they went straight up the narrow gangways and onto the black and white vessel, which had been decked out in colourful bunting.

“I’m sure we were seen,” Merryweather said.

“Yes, I saw them too,” Caruthers said.

“Where? I didn’t see anyone,” Georgina said.

“We’ve been observed at Gard du Nord and here at Calais,” said Merryweather. “Spies.”

“Where?”

Georgina looked round: suddenly all the men looked sinister, dressed as they were in black.

“It’s all right,” said Merry. “We’re on the ferry now, there’s little they can do. They’ll hardly get an ironclad down the Channel in time.”

They went to the restaurant to consider lunch or dinner with menus that couldn’t decide whether they were French or English, and fell between two shores. They ordered fish: plaice in lemon sauce with potatoes fried in the French manner, which turned out to be thin chips. Caruthers and Merryweather had bottled beer, whereas Georgina ordered lemonade so strong it stung her eyes from the inside.