Voyage into the Unknown part 2

Story by Wip on SoFurry

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#2 of Voyage into the Unknown

Part 2... not nearly as confident about this one. Never thought I'd need to do a search for "blimp/airship schematics." Now I kind of know what the different parts of the things are called

At least it's a learning experience. Heck, by part 17 maybe I'll figure out how to write an action packed, suspenseful scene :-)

Thanks for reading! You peeps rock!!!


2.

To his credit, Hadros had still managed to draw a sizable crowd on the morning of the launch. Vernon Alexander once again found himself in front of a crowd. He was seated along with the other two members of the expedition while Hadros gave a rousing speech, hitting the topics of Lupine exceptionalism, the glory of discovery, and other populist rhetoric.

Vernon glanced at his companions. Neither seemed as bothered by the attention as Vernon felt. There was a snooty looking wolf that he'd been introduced to, but could not for the life of him recall the fellow's name. On Vernon's other side sat a hulking bear. Donner Bensven had never been formally introduced to the wolf, but the wolf was aware of what Hadros had hired the bear to do. As it was, Vernon thought if Donner was even half as tough as he looked, he was overqualified for the job of protecting the party.

The crowd itself looked less hostile than the one present when Hadros made his announcement. These furs looked more like they were here to have a good time. If it wasn't for the chill at the altitude atop Triumph Tower, Vernon was sure he might have tried harder to enjoy himself. He looked out at the well-to-do families with their pups and wondered if he made it back, if that could be his life. A low ranking surveyor could barely afford to live in the city on his own, much less find a mate and have children.

This adventure would set his life on a much brighter course. Hadros had full faith in Vernon's ability as cartographer and navigator and if they made it back alive, the Crown would have no choice but to recognize him also. There might even be a Title bestowed on him, Vernon dared to dream.

Vernon watched the back of Hadros as the gray wolf gesticulated to the cheering crowd. He could be quite the messianic figure if it wasn't for the massive ego that blinded him to all other views but his own. With a final deafening roar, the crowd went wild as Hadros turned his back on them and walked toward his crew. The furs on either side of Vernon stood. Vernon hastily joined them, eager to get underway.

Hadros smiled, "well, chaps, shall we make history?"

Suddenly caught up in the enormity of what the four of them were going to accomplish, Vernon let loose a giddy howl, choked off the moment he realized the others weren't joining in. His white fur did nothing to hide the blush.

Hadros laughed good naturedly and clapped Vernon on the shoulder. "That's the spirit!" He motioned them to the ship, following after a theatrical moment where he shook hands with the city's mayor, slow enough for the photographers to set their flash powder, thus capturing the moment for posterity and the evening papers.

Vernon thought guiltily of the stack of early editions he'd picked up on impulse and stowed in his cabin before the ceremony started. He knew most of the articles regarding Hadros' Folly, as it was being dubbed, were less than flattering. He dreaded what the few lines he was given would say. Probably something about a lowly surveyor was press-ganged into a suicide mission, Vernon thought ruefully.

From inside the forward hatch, Vernon and his crewmates peered through the portholes, taking their last looks at civilization for a long time, maybe their last ever. They were brought out of their respective reflections by the resounding cheer as Hadros opened the door, leaning back to give the crowd one more wave and a salute.

The door slammed, cutting off much of the noise. "Nathin, would take your position, please," Hadros said as he breezed past his crew and into the control room.

Vernon followed them. Hadros took hold of a wheel, much like one that would control a ship's rudder. Next to him was a lever labeled altimeter flaps, used to control the airship's ascent and descent. Hadros' assistant took up a position at a bank of dials and circuit breakers. The mess of controls operated the Occulator's four propellers.

"Brace yourselves, chaps," Hadros announced. Vernon froze still grappling with the reality of what he was embarking on. There was no going back now. Nathin threw a breaker, releasing the smell of ozone and a snap like a sapling overtaken by a strong wind. The Occulator was brought to life, shaking like a newborn pup as the anchoring lines were released and the hangar roof opened. Vernon could feel the ship rising.

The thick paw of his ursine companion gently landed on his arm. "Might be time for us to have a seat, eh?"

"Thank you," Vernon managed, as the dark bear guided him to a secured chair, bolted to the deck at the rear of the control room next to a spiralling staircase leading to the upper deck. He strapped himself in, fingers shaking.

"The name's Donner Bensven. First time flying?" the bear asked.

Vernon tried to pull his hand off the armrest to shake hands but it wouldn't budge. He settled on nodding his greeting. "Vernon Alexander. Pleasure," he sucked down a deep breath to calm himself. "Y-yes- I mean sort of. It's my first time in a powered airship. I've done some surveying in tethered balloons before." The ship shuddered as the engine kicked in. "I did not care for that experience either."

Donner laughed. "You'll get used to it." He leaned over, conspiratorially. "Wanna know a secret? Nathin, the wolf who helped design our fair ship, he's petrified of heights."

Vernon's eyes went wide as he observed the dark wolf tending to the engine controls.

"Yup," said Donner, "I'm damn near certain Hadros had to bribe him with dibs on naming the first new creature they discover after him to get him on the crew."

Vernon chuckled nervously, trying to ignore the new wave of shuddering as the Occulator picked up speed and gained altitude.

Hadros had explained, or tried too anyways, to Vernon how the ship's simplified control scheme was revolutionary and made it possible to crew the entire ship with just the four of them. He went on to explain the downside of it. The way Vernon understood it, if the pilot and engine furs were not in perfect sync, the ship could be sent into a death spiral, or stall hundreds of feet over the ocean, or... Vernon tried not to think about that. Hadros and Nathin literally designed the system. If anyone could fly flawlessly, it was them.

Less than an hour later, when the ship listed violently to one side, and began an unplanned descent, Vernon reassessed his high opinion of his pilots in between his own screams.

***

Hours earlier.

Roe woke up shivering. He was still in darkness under a tarp in the cargo hold and had no idea what time it was. The fact that it wasn't a guard that woke him was a good start to any day as far as he was concerned. Roe slid off of the crate he'd slept on. He listened. There was the sound of a gathering crowd but being in a skyport, he assumed it was normal.

Even with his vulpine night vision it was too dark to see more than the vaguest of shapes. He tried to remember what he'd seen yesterday when there was a dim light. Nothing useful came to mind. After a time spent groping for a way to open the lock on door he'd entered he gave up and decided to look for another way out.

The noise of the crowd outside grew steadily, making the fox grow uneasy. His fingers were numb from the chill by the time he found a door handle that led out of the hold and into the ship's interior. He blinked at the light from portholes. When his eyes adjusted he gasped. There was some sort of ceremony taking place right outside. He ducked down before he could be seen.

Roe bit his lip. He was still trapped. His options were limited. If he left the airship now, he was guaranteed to be spotted, and when they processed him for trespassing at least one constable would be sure to recognize him as the wanted thief he was. If he waited, maybe he could make his escape when the crowd departed.

Wait it was, he decided. His fingers tapped on his knee. "I'm cold," he said to himself. "And hungry." As much as he hated to steal, he decided anyone who could own such a machine as an airship could surely spare a bite to eat from the the galley, and perhaps a coat if one could be located. Keeping below the portholes, Roe crept about the ship, gradually forming an impression of the place.

It wasn't a passenger ship from what he could tell. There weren't the rows of seats he expected to find. And from the decorative touches, such as the thick, patterned carpet, he was sure it wasn't military or cargo. Perhaps a private craft, owned by a wealthy wolf. That thought made him feel much less guilty as he discovered the galley.

Making sure not to leave evidence of his being there, Roe opened various cupboards and only picked items from the backs of the shelves. Hard breads, a bundle of carrots and, for the novelty of it, one of the latest inventions to make it's way into a few of the higher end stalls down in the market. He picked up the metallic cylinder and sniffed. It didn't smell like there was food in it, but when he shook the can it sounded like it could have been holding a soup, or something watery. As Roe wandered about the ship, he wondered if could sell the canned food to a merchant. There was always a race to stock the newest fads, no matter how impractical the fox thought them.

The noise from outside died down. Roe froze. His ears pricked up. It would have been a shame to have to drop his armful of food. He sighed deeply when it was clear there was a speech being given to a receptive audience. No more time to waste he decided and left the galley, gnawing a crust of bread as he went.

Roe began trying doors, skipping any that were locked. All he needed was a coat, preferably with deep pockets. He wasn't keen on cause more damage than he had too. The first open door was to another storeroom, so was the second. But by the third room, Roe had found the cabin of one of the crew. Roe dropped his load of food on the cot. He rummaged through the trunk and the chest of drawers. He took a shirt and pair of pants. He was pleasantly surprised to find that they fit quite nicely. In the cabin's closet, concealed behind its ornate sliding door, Roe found the coat he was looking for. It was one of six identical coats, hopefully it would not be missed.

"Yes!" Roe found several pairs of shoes. This was turning out to be a damn fine day so far, he decided. The speech was still going on, so Roe turned his old threadbare clothes into a bindle stuffed with food and continued to explore.

The first cabin seemed to belong to an artist, thought Roe as he stood in the second open cabin he found. This one was the room of an academic. Any spare wall space was fitted with shelving, buckling under the weight of strapped in books. Roe looked around, flipped through a few of the books, but did not take anything. He had what he needed, and unless something was irresistible, he was determined not to live up to the reputation the local constabulary had bestowed on him.

He'd just opened the door to the third cabin when he realized the noise of the crowd had changed. The ceremony was concluding. He scrambled to the nearest porthole and surveyed the scene.

"Fuck!" he yelped. The speaker was gesticulating toward the airship and three other furs on the stage were heading closer.

Roe ran, not sure where he was heading but continuing his way forward in search of an exit. Unfortunately Roe ran out of ship. He began swearing, looking out the forward windows at far horizon. His string of obscenities silenced when the unmistakable sound of a door opening let in a burst of noise. Sure of being found, the frantic fox ran to the window intending to smash it a hope to become lost in the crowd before anyone could grab him.

He got to the window only to reconsider his desperate plan once hearing the door shut, locking out the noise of the cheering crowd once again. His eyes searched for any alternatives to the loud exit he'd planned. In the back of the control room were a group of chairs. Further back was a staircase spiraling up. Roe took his chances with the unknown, bolting up the stairs just as the crew entered the control room.

Roe pressed himself to the floor, breathing hard and peering over the lip of the second floor. He watched as four furs took up positions. Three wolves, one short with mostly white fur. Roe guessed it was his clothes he'd borrowed. Then he zeroed in on a bear. The huge fellow carried himself with an air of military precision.

Roe rolled away from the stairs, springing to his feet and looking for a place to hide. This deck was disappointing. Large rooms packed with supplies, a machine room and several large empty rooms labeled with brass plaques bearing the word "samples" engraved upon them. And rats. Roe counted four of the little devils in one room alone.

Deciding to try his luck further up, Roe scaled a ladder, pushing open a narrow hatch. He gawked at the surreal sight he beheld. The hatch lead from the gondola into the attached canvas cage that contained the huge buoyant gas bags. It was like being surrounded by giant jellyfish, each the size of a house. And the yellow light that passed through the canvas shell made it all the more eerie. Never the less, Roe guessed this would be the best place to wait until he could make his escape.

Plans changed again. Once the fox had time to place the pieces together, he became painfully aware this wasn't just a pleasure craft en route to a coastal resort town. This had all the hallmarks of a scientific mission. The ship rocked as its tethers were loosed.

Roe was struck by the thought of being whisked away to the Northlands, to spend God knows how long hiding on the airship as it hovered over a barren ice field. Or maybe to spend a season anchored off one of the disease ridden, uninhabited, rat infested Spice Isles. That would be about as pleasant as getting caught by a constable.

As the engines started up, Roe knew if he wanted to avoid a hellish vacation he needed to force a landing before they were over the sea.

***

"What the hell was that!" Vernon shrieked for the hundredth time.

Donner waited for Hadros to stabilize the ship. "Stay here," he advised Vernon, "I'll go sort this out." The bear unbuckled himself from his seat and walk cautiously across the listing deck.

"We've come unbalanced," Hadros informed him without being asked.

"Can you fix it?" Donner felt a little dull for bringing up the obvious.

"Let us hope so. I don't think we can afford to land." The grey wolf pulled a lever and removed his suit jacket. "Nathin! Be so kind as to fetch a portable winch and escort Donner into the envelope. I believe one of the gas cells has come undone."

To his credit, Nathin was neither panicking, nor freezing up. Donner followed the lanky fellow into a hold, watching as Nathin knew exactly which crate to open and where in ti to find a complicated contraption of gears and straps. Before the bear could ask if Nathin knew how it worked, the airship's gradually increasing tilt made itself known as one on the heavier crates snapped its bonds and came tumbling towards the two.

Donner grabbed Nathin's arm and leapt out of the errant cargo's path just in time. The two furs exchanged looks. The wolf's eyes wide as saucers and the bear with a smirk of smug satisfaction.

"You're faster than you look," Nathin said.

"An' you're a mite bit slower. Now quick, what do we need to do to stop this beast from rollin' over an' playing dead?"

"That isn't what will-" Nathin shook his head. "Up. Go up. We need to secure a gas cell that has come loose."

"I could teach you how to tie a few knots," Donner said, thinking about the loose gas cell and glancing at the broken lines that failed to contain the crate.

Nathin glared and brushed passed him.

Despite the situation, Donner found it difficult not to chuckle. He was no stranger to death, and this wasn't close to the most danger he'd been in.

Nathin led the duo up the galley stairs. Donner had been to the small third level that served as the rear observation deck, but Nathin took them to a ladder, near the middle of the ship. He started up, his task of holding the portable winch made easier by the tilting of the Occulator turning the ladder nearly into another flight of stairs.

"Wait a second, Nathin. What if it's not a loose cell but a leak? Wouldn't we suffocate?"

The wolf looked down. "The loss of equilibrium occurred too quickly for it to have been a rupture. Leave the diagnostics to me."

Maybe I should leave the heavy lifting to you also, Donner thought. He waited until Nathin was through the hatch, just in case the wolf was wrong.

"Hurry up," Nathin called.

Donner started up the ladder. Reaching the hatch, he realized how snug a fit it would be. "Nathin, did you give any thought to a bear's size when you designed this deathtrap?"

"Oh course I thought of ursine proportions," Nathin snapped as Donner wedged himself out of the gondola. "At the time construction started, I thought I'd be able to talk Hadros out of hiring you and your 'services.'"

"And yet here we are with my 'services' about to save the day."

Nathin ignored him and began looking for the loose gas cell. It wasn't hard to find. One line had come undone, allowing the large bubble to displace several others. It was just a matter of getting the two ends of the frayed rope attached to the winch, and cranking them back together. While Donner tied the lower break in the rope to the winch, he watched the wolf scale the envelope's frame to retrieve the other end.

"Y'know," remarked Donner, "this rope looks gnawed on."

"Rats," Nathin shouted back. "Damned things are everywhere."

Donner looked around. A slightly uneasy feeling fell over him that had nothing to do with the tiny vermin.

"I'll coat the lower lines with poison when we finish," Nathin said as he got a hold of the other end of the rope. "Throw me the winch straps."

Donner did, making another gibe at the wolf's knot tying ability. The strange feeling did not leave him. Even as he went to work cranking the spliced rope back together, it remained. Donner grunted as the gears turned with every rotation of the winch handle. It was no easy task, realigning a gas cell bigger than many pub's he'd visited, but it got done with no further damage to the Occulator.

Before leaving, Donner took one last look around, now he was sure he felt a pair of eyes watching him.