CHAPTER 45 - FOREST PRIMEVAL

The landing was going to be tricky and dangerous, thought Punky Pugilist struggling to keep the dirigible under control, as rain pelting the windscreen made visibility uncertain. Ice was building up on both the flight surfaces and on the upper skin. The wind howled and bright flashes of lightening, the nemesis of all airship captains, rattled the cabin.

“I should have made some sandwiches and tea while I had the chance,” mumbled Punky under her breath, “perhaps turkey and cheese, or ham and cucumber,…”

A flash of brilliant light illuminated the cabin, the instruments sharply outlined in harsh luminance and sharp edges of black shadow. The ship shuddered. Punky flinched, that was close she thought, thank the gods I have a hydrogen filled blimp which provides extra lift, rather than the more expensive and weaker helium. A small yellow light suddenly glowed red and began flashing drawing her attention from food and tea back toward the stark reality of the responsibility and danger of her mission. The red light went out, followed by a distinct click and thud, as a slice of rye toast flew from the toaster into the air next to the captain’s chair. With the fast trained reflexes of an experienced pilot Punky grabbed the toast in mid air and bringing it to her mouth, she took a tiny bite.

“There, that will settle my tummy a bit,” she uttered to herself. Why did I ever agree with this really stupid and futile gesture she wondered, but in her heart she knew that she was committed regardless of the glorious fame of success, or the iniquity of failure followed by a trial, conviction, and sentencing to the ultimate penalty, or perhaps only death? Checking the instruments, noting the falling air speed as the howling gale increased in furry, Punky looked behind her at Daggy. Daggy was desperately trying to determine their exact location. The lightening and ice was interfering with the navigation system that Daggy held tightly in her hand.

Tek had gone up to the engineering section to see why the number three engine’s boiler was loosing steam pressure at an alarming rate. They were burning coal at a frightful rate to stay aloft, heat the flight surfaces to melt the ice, and keep the cabin interior from freezing.

A flash of blinding light appeared outside the left window and a white hot tongue of lightening struck the number one engine. A huge deafening explosion of sound followed. Thunder had combined with an exploding boiler. Daggy immediately stood and scanned the gages and instruments in the Engineers station.

Punky threw open the port side sliding window at the pilot’s station and stuck her head out the window and looked up. It was bad. The entire nacelle of number 1 was gone. The engine had been blown off the Dread by the combination of a direct lightening hit and the high pressure steam explosion. Ice and hail pummeled Punky’s head and her cap flew off into the downpour of freezing water. She had seen enough. She slammed the little window closed and scanned her instruments. They were loosing altitude.

Tek came sliding down the ladder from the engineering section above. He looked tired and worried as he ran to Punky’s pilot’s seat. “We’ve been breached.” He yelled.

Punky winced, but her training took over. “How bad?”

“It’s about a meter wide breach. Kees is trying to slow down the leak with bubble patches, but we don’t have much time.”

Punky spun the UP&DOWN wheel and felt the ship rise slightly. “We still have some lift,” Punky yelled at Daggy, “I’m going for the maximum altitude I can get. Perhaps we can make it to the rendezvous by a controlled glide.” She failed to mention what both Daggy and Tek new followed a ‘controlled glide’ – an ugly crash and possible fire ball of burning hydrogen, flaming aluminum spars, and glowing coal.

Daggy nodded to Punky. Daggy was still trying to determine their heading not to mention their location. The howling wind increased in intensity and their forward ground speed could not be more than 10 knots Daggy guessed. But in this hail and sleet she really had no idea where they were. The ‘street walker’ navigation lifted from Blurts had stopped working hours ago.

As the ship shuddered and lurched in the angry sky Punky fought to gain altitude. Mount Sodom was 7000 meters in altitude and Punky knew they could never make that height. Not in a ship this badly damaged. The altimeter slowly ever so slowly rose to about 5000 meters then the altimeter stopped moving. Punky felt a sickening feeling in the seat of her pants. The ship had begun an ever so slow descent. She tapped the altimeter with her finger and it wiggled and began falling. Time to consider alternatives thought Punky, but there were not any.

On the deck lay a soaked yellow sheet of paper, its ink running and flowing from the paper and onto the decking. The note was their orders from the Second Sea Lord should they fail to deliver Little Ben to Clissa. The Dread had succeeded in its commitment to reach Clissa, but to their surprise Clissa was not there to receive Little Ben. Punky knew enough about this stupid and futile gesture that the crew knew was a suicide mission to know that the goal had been to place Little Ben in the only Sim where Adel’s order had no influence. All religions were banned in Clissa, except of course for the worship of the Great Leader and Glorious Leader. The Blue Navy wanted Little Ben safe, and isolated for at least a few days, and they had rushed the completion of the Dread to both rescue her and remove her from any influence by The Order. Punky knew they would do anything to snatch Little Ben. Punky just didn’t know why Adel wanted Little Ben so desperately.

The contingency orders were clear. Get Little Ben to Mount Sodom and into the hands of the Yellow Knights who could be found there. Punky didn’t know who the Yellow Knights were so she asked Daggy.

‘The Yellow Knights?” said Daggy. She thought for a while and said, “If I remember correctly the Yellow Knights were key in the Battle of Coronation Grove and in bringing down the stupid monarchy.” Then Daggy thought a bit more. “I think that Mofo the Brave and Very Dead had almost been prematurely killed by the Druid Priestess at the Ceremony to install the last Monforte King. That’s about all I can remember from grade school legends and civics class.”

The ship shuddered hard and a great sheet of ice slid off the nose and passed by the cockpit windows like a thundering waterfall. The nose rose sharply and Punky struggled to keep the ship level.

Daggy quickly scanned the meters and gages. “Steam pressure is nil in number 3, and were they were loosing pressure in 2 and 4. Daggy said nothing about number one. The engine lost to lightening and a boiler explosion moments ago.

“How many mules can you get me from 2 and 4,” shouted Punky as the airship lurched sharply to port in an enormous surge of wind and hail from the starboard side.

Daggy watched in horror as the pressure gages fell to 0. “Cant give you any Punkster, there gone.”

Punky thought hard. They still had two engines working but it was not enough to maintain much forward headway in this weather on a pitch black night. There was no out. “We can jump, which in this weather will probably get most of us killed or frozen regardless of the strength of the chutes. Or we can do as all good Blimp girls do and that is to ride her down.”

Daggy thought and realized Punky was correct. Besides Little Ben would never survive a parachute jump, even if the weather was fair.

The Daggy had an idea. “Which way is north Punky?” she yelled above the howling wind.

Punky knew that their survival may depend on her “dead reckoning” skills. She closed her eyes for a moment. The she shouted and pointed, “That way, to starboard, 150 degrees, that way!”

Daggy shouted, “Bring her around to 210.”

Tek suck his head into the gondola from the engineering section above. “Its not holding, the bubble wrap.”

Daggy said, “Stoke the remaining engines with all the coal they will take, then get the crew down here. Were gonna ditch.”

“Yes, Mam,” replied Tek.

‘Yes Mam’ thought Daggy, Tek never said that, never. He must be really frightened.

Daggy could hear fast and furious shoveling from above.

Kees came sliding down the ladder from above. Followed by Macboy. They were dressed warm and in the Omega team’s combat gear. Both were armed. Daggy looked at Kees and Macboy. “Take care of Little Ben, above all she must live. If either of you survive make sure …”

The Dread shuddered hard and the deck tilted 40 degrees and the crew gabbed for handholds to stay on their feet. Then she leveled out a bit.

“We hit something big,” yelled Punky. “Time to ditch. Out! Out! Out!”

Daggy grabbed the lower deck hatch and pulled it open. It was pitch black below. Daggy reached for the belaying line on the descent real and then opened the left storage bay and pulled out a grappling hook. He tossed a hundred feet o the rope and grappling hook out the hatch where it hung loosely. Kees had grabbed Little Ben and had wrapped her up in a scratchy navy blanket.

Something scraped along the starboard side of the dirigible. A scraping sound like the swishing of a giant feather against the ridged airships side. The line went taught. The grappling hook had caught something below. Perhaps a rock or some patch of ground.

“Go yelled!” Punky “Go.”

Kees grabbed the line and was gone. The Macboy followed immediately. Tek came sliding down the ladder, looked at Daggy and Punky. Then he too was gone. The line began to shudder as if it was catching and letting go and catching again.

Punky jumped up from her seat and joined Daggy at the hatch. Daggy looked hard at Punky.

“I’m captain Daggy, it’s your turn,” said Punky with a weak smile.

Daggy saluted Punky and then was gone.

Punky grabbed the line and then she paused. Punky looked around at the instruments, the gages, her toaster, at all the bits of tin and aluminum that was alive in Punky’s hands. The Dread, her ship, was going down. She stood at attention, then gave a snappy salute to the nose. “Permission to leave?” she asked to the empty ship. The ship shuddered just a bit as if to say ‘permission granted’. Then Punky was gone. The line broke and the ship, now a bit lighter, rose into the dark stormy sky.