The Warlord of the Air (24 page)

“But can such a world ever exist, Vladimir Ilyitch?” I sighed. “You’re describing the Garden of Eden, you know. A familiar dream—but a reality? I wonder...”

“There are an infinite number of possible societies. In an infinite universe, all may become real sooner or later. Yet it is always up to mankind to make real what it really wishes to be real. Man is a creature capable of building almost anything he pleases—or destroying anything he pleases. Sometimes, as old as I am, I am astonished by him!” He chuckled.

I smiled back, reflecting that he would really be astonished if he knew that, in effect, I was older than he!

It was soon dark and I drew a deep breath. Our only light came from the illuminated instrument panels. I intended to get the ship up to three thousand feet and remain at that height for as long as possible. The wind was blowing in roughly a north-easterly direction and would take us the way we needed to go if we were to leave the valley without recourse to our engines.

“Let slip,” I said.

Our mooring lines fell away and we began to rise. I heard the wind whistling about our hull. I saw the lights of Dawn City dropping down below us.

“Three thousand feet, height coxswain,” I said. “Take it slowly. Forty-five degrees elevation. Turn her port-side on to the wind, steering cox.” I checked our compass. “Keep her steady.”

Everyone was silent. Von Bek and Una Persson stood at the window, staring down. Shaw and Ulianov stood near me, peering at instruments which meant next to nothing to them. Shaw was dressed in a blue cotton suit and was puffing on a cigarette. On his head was tilted a coolie hat of woven reeds. There was a holstered revolver at his belt. After a while he began to pace back and forth across the bridge.

We were drifting slowly over the hills. Within minutes we should be upon the main enemy camp and in range of their artillery. If we were sighted they could swiftly send up several ships and there would be little doubt of the outcome. We should be blown from the sky, along with Project NFB. With Shaw dead, I doubted if Dawn City would have the will to carry on the fight much longer.

But at last the camp was behind us and we relaxed slightly.

“Can we start the engines yet?” Shaw asked.

I shook my head. “Not yet. Another twenty minutes, perhaps. Maybe longer.”

“We must get to Hiroshima before it is light.”

“I understand.”

“With those yards destroyed they will have almost as much difficulty replenishing their ammunition as we have. It will make it more of an equal fight.”

“I agree,” I said. “And now, General Shaw, can you tell me what you hope to use to accomplish that destruction?”

“It is in the lower hold,” he said. “You saw the scientists bring it aboard.”

“But what is it, this Project NFB?”

“I’m told it’s a powerful bomb. I know very little more—it is
extremely
scientific—but it has been a dream of some scientists to make it since, I suppose, the beginnings of the century. It has cost us a lot of money and several years of research just to build one—the one in the lower hold.”

“How do you know it will work?”

“I do not. But if it does work, it should, in a
single explosion,
devastate the best part of the airship yards. The scientists tell me that when it is detonated the explosion will be equal to several hundred tons of TNT.”

“Good God!”

“I was equally incredulous, but they convinced me—particularly when three years ago they almost destroyed their entire laboratory with a very minor experiment along these lines. It is something to do with the atomic structure of matter, I believe. They had the theory for the bomb for a long time, but it took years to make the thing workable.”

“Well, let’s hope they’re right,” I smiled. “If we drop it and it turns out to have the explosive power of a firecracker we are going to look very foolish.”

“Agreed.”

“And if it is as powerful as you say, we had better keep high enough up—blasts rise as well as spread. We should be at least a thousand feet above ground-level when it goes off.”

Shaw nodded absently.

S
oon I was able to start the engines and the
Shan-tien’
s bridge trembled slightly as we surged through the night at one hundred and fifty miles an hour with the wind behind us! The roar of her engines going full-out was music to my ears. I began to cheer up and checked our position. We had not much time to spare. By my calculations we should reach the Hiroshima airship yards about half-an-hour before the first intimation of dawn.

F
or a while we were all lost in our own thoughts, standing on the bridge and listening to the rapid note of the engines.

It was Shaw who broke the silence.

“If I die now,” he said suddenly, expressing a notion not far from the minds of any of us, “I think that I have sown the seeds for a successful revolution throughout the world. The scientists at Dawn City will perfect Project NFB even if
this
bomb is not successful. More of the
Fei-chi
will be built and distributed amongst other revolutionists. I will give power to the people. Power to decide their own fate. I have already shown them that the Great Powers are not invincible, that they can be overthrown. You see, Uncle Vladimir, it
is
hope and not despair which breeds successful revolution!”

“Perhaps,” Ulianov admitted. “Yet hope alone is not sufficient.”

“No—political power grows out of the erupting casing of a bomb like the bomb we are carrying. With such bombs at their disposal, the oppressed will be able to dictate any terms they choose to their oppressors.”

“If the bomb works,” Una Persson said. “I am not sure it can. Nuclear fission, eh? All very well—but how do you achieve it? I fear you may have been deceived, Mr. Shaw.”

“We’ll see.”

I
remember the feeling of anticipation as the dark coast of Japan was sighted against the gleam of the moonlit ocean and once again we cut out the engines and began to drift on the wind.

I readied the controls which would release the safety bolts on the loading doors (the main bolts had to be drawn by hand) and let the bomb fall onto the unsuspecting airship yards. I saw ribbons of myriad coloured lights. The city of Hiroshima. Beyond it lay the yards themselves—miles of sheds, of mooring masts and repair docks, an installation almost entirely given over to military airships, particularly at this time. If we could destroy only a part of it, we should succeed in delaying the assault on Dawn City.

I remember staring at Una Persson and wondering if she were still thinking of her father’s death. And what was von Bek brooding about? He had begun by hating Shaw but now he was bound to admit that the Warlord of the Air was a genius and that he had achieved what many another revolutionists had hoped to achieve. Ulianov, for instance. It seemed that the old man hardly realized that his dream was coming true. He had waited so long. I suppose I sympathize with Ulianov more than most now. He had waited all his life for revolution, for the rise of the proletariat, and he was never to see it actually taking place. Perhaps it never did...

S
haw was leaning forward eagerly as we drifted high above the airship yards. He had one hand on the holster, a cigarette in his other hand. His yellow coolie hat was pushed back off his head and with his handsome Eurasian features he looked every bit a hero of popular romance.

The yards were ablaze with light as men worked on the battleships which were to be ready for the big invasion on Dawn City next day. I saw the black outlines of the hulls, saw the flare of acetylene torches.

“Are we there?” Once again the warlord who had changed history looked like an excited schoolboy. “Are those the yards, Captain Bastable?”

“That’s them,” I said.

“The poor men,” said Ulianov, shaking his white head. “They are only workers, like the others.”

Von Bek jerked his thumb back towards the city. “Their children will thank us when they grow up.”

I wondered. There would be many orphans and widows in Hiroshima tomorrow.

Una Persson looked nervously at me. It seems she had lost her doubts about the efficacy of the bomb. “Mr. Bastable, as I understand it a bomb of this type can, in theory, produce incalculable destruction. Parts of the city might be harmed.”

I smiled. “The city’s nearly two miles away, Mrs. Persson.”

She nodded “I suppose you’re right.” She stroked her neat, dark hair, looking down at the yards again.

“Take her down to a thousand feet, height cox,” I said. “Easy as she goes.”

We could see individual people now. Men moved across the concrete carrying tools, climbing the scaffolding around the huge ironclads.

“There are the main fitting yards.” Shaw pointed. “Can we get the ship over there without power?”

“We’ll be spotted soon. But I’ll try. Five degrees, steering cox.”

“Five degrees, sir,” said the pale young man at the wheel. The ship creaked slightly as she turned.

“Be ready to take her up fast, height cox,” I warned.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

We were over the fitting yards. I picked up my speaking tube.

“Captain to lower hold. Are the main loading doors ready?”

“Ready sir.”

I pressed the lever which would release the safety bolts.

“Safety bolts gone, sir.”

“Stand by to release cargo.”

“Standing by, sir.”

I was using a procedure normally used to lighten the ship in an emergency.

The huge ship sank down and down through the night. I heard a sighing breeze sliding about her nose. A melancholy breeze.

“Gunners make ready to fire. Return fire if fired upon.” This was in case we were recognized and attacked. I was relying on the surprise of the big explosion to give us time to get away.

“All guns ready, sir.”

Shaw winked at me and chuckled.

“Stand by all engines,” I said. “Full ahead as soon as you hear the bang.”

“Standing by, sir.”

“Ready cargo doors.”

“Ready, sir.”

“Let her go.”

“She’s gone, sir.”

“Elevation sixty degrees,” I said. “Up to three thousand, height cox. We’ve made it.”

The ship tilted and we gripped the handrails as the bridge sloped steeply.

Shaw and the others were peering down. I remember their faces so well. Von Bek pursing his lips and frowning. Una Persson apparently thinking of something else altogether. Ulianov smiling slightly to himself. Shaw turned to me. He grinned. “She’s just about to hit. The bomb...”

I remember his face full of joy as the blinding white light flooded up behind him, framing the four of them in black silhouette. There was a strange noise, like a single, loud heartbeat. There was darkness and I knew I was blind. I burned with unbearable heat. I remember wondering at the intensity of the explosion. It must have destroyed the whole city, perhaps the island. The enormity of what had happened dawned on me.

“Oh my God,” I remember thinking, “I wish the damned airship had never been invented.”

A
nd that’s about it.” Bastable’s voice was harsh and cracked. He had been talking for the best part of three days.

I laid down my pencil and looked wearily back through the pages and pages of shorthand notes which recorded his fantastic story.

“You really believe you experienced all that!” I said. “But how do you explain getting back to our own time?”

“Well, I was picked up in the sea, apparently; I was unconscious, temporarily blinded and quite badly burned. The Japanese fishermen who found me thought I was a seaman who’d been caught in an engine-room accident. I was taken to Hiroshima and put into the Sailors’ Hospital there. I was quite astonished to be told it
was
Hiroshima, I don’t mind admitting, since I was convinced the place had been blown to smithereens. Of course, it was some time before I realized I was back in 1902.”

“And what did you do then?” I helped myself to a drink and offered him one, which he refused.

“Well, as soon as I came out of hospital I went to the British Embassy, of course. They were decent. I claimed I had amnesia again. I gave my name, rank and serial number and said that the last thing I remembered was being pursued by Sharan Kang’s priests in the Temple of the Future Buddha. They telegraphed my regiment and, naturally, they confirmed that the particulars I had given were correct. I had my passage and train fare paid to Lucknow, where my regiment was then stationed. Six months had passed since the affair at Teku Benga.”

“And your commanding officer recognized you, of course.”

Bastable gave another of his short, bitter laughs. “He said that I had died at Teku Benga, that I could not have lived. He said that although I resembled Bastable in some ways I was an imposter. I was older, for one thing, and my voice was different.”

“You reminded him of things only you could remember?”

“Yes. He congratulated me on my homework and told me that if I tried anything like that again he would have me arrested.”

“And you accepted that? What about your relatives? Didn’t you try to get in touch with them?”