Indy looked carefully at Chino. "Could you tell when they planned to leave?"
"Two nights from now. My new friend, you do not have much time to do whatever it is you plan."
"Joe, can we count on you to help us?"
"Yes."
"It would be a great help if you flew with us."
"You want me in the sky?"
"Yes. You know that area. We don't."
"I will go. Until this moment I was always convinced it was the white man who was really crazy. Now, so am I."
"Harry, will you check on Will and Rene and see if all the special equipment is loaded on our plane?"
Henshaw nodded to an aide standing nearby. No command was needed. "Yes, sir," the officer said. "I'll take care of it immediately."
Henshaw turned back to Indy. "If they go above thirty thousand feet, we don't have any combat planes—in service, I mean, ready to go—that can handle them. Your Ford has those special superchargers and weapons. Indy, it's going to be up to you and your people to stop that zeppelin now. Or we're really in for it."
18
They flew most of the night and well into daylight to reach Las Vegas, New Mexico, a sprawling collection of buildings out of an old western novel. The isolation was perfect for them. Several miles east of the town, near the Conchas River, was a huge open desert area the army used for field trials and training exercises. One large hangar stood at the end of the field, surrounded by tents and basic living facilities for the infantry and ground personnel who serviced the fighters and bombers that flew in for exercises. The isolation was better than they expected. An artillery and a bombing range nearby made it clear the area wasn't healthy for uninvited guests. As many bombs tumbled awry as struck their bull'seyes, marked in the desert with whitewashed stones.
"Everybody get some food," Indy told his group. "Find out where the latrines are because I suggest we all use them just before we take off later tonight. You've got one hour to take this break. Meet by the plane then and we'll go over all our equipment and weapons, and see if anything new has come up."
"What time do you plan for takeoff?" Cromwell asked.
"How long will it take us to climb to thirtytwo thousand feet?"
"Good God, Indy, I've never been anywhere near that high!" Cromwell exclaimed.
"Will, how long?"
Cromwell worked some figures in his head. "We'll be lighter than usual," he said finally, "and—"
"Just the numbers, Will," Indy pressed.
"No, Indy. It's going to be very tricky up there, and I think it's best if you understand what we're up against. Since we've never climbed that high, I can't tell you what our rate of climb will be. We've got a highlift wing, and those superchargers, well, I've got great faith in them. But the higher we go, the slower will be our rate of ascent. Do you see?"
Indy waited patiently. No use arguing with Cromwell; in this case he was right. At the altitude they were going for, what you didn't know could hurt you.
"Judging we may have some problems, and all that," Cromwell went on, "I'd say we ought to give ourselves at least two to three hours just to get to the altitude you want. We'll be on oxygen above twelve thousand and we want to be sure that doesn't freeze up on us. I've checked the charts. Figure on a hundred and fifty miles to this Acoma place.
That area, anyway. We'll cover the distance while we're climbing."
"Okay," Indy said.
"Maybe not so much okay," Foulois broke in. "Indy, you must consider something I have not heard anyone speak about."
"Which is?"
"Everything we have heard about this airship, no? It is very fast. It may be faster than we are when we reach upstairs."
"It could be," Indy admitted. "We'll have to find out when we get there."
"Ah, then consider," Foulois said quickly. "If this is the way it is to be, then I urge you and my corpulent English friend, here, to attempt to reach perhaps another two thousand feet or so. We can gain speed in a shallow dive. At that altitude, we will become very fast."
Cromwell laughed, but without a trace of humor. "Don't forget, Indy, we'll likely have company."
Chino listened with amazement to the conversation. He turned to Gale.
"Company? What kind of company is higher than even the eagles fly?"
"Discs."
"Discs?"
"Well, more like scimitars in shape. But discs will do. They have jet engines and they're very fast, and they're likely to do everything they can to shoot us down.
So we'll be ready to give them the works, of course. That's why we've got those machine guns on the airplane."
"This all sounds, like, well, like the wild tales our ancients tell the children."
"It's a gas, isn't it?" Gale said.
Captain Hans Ulrich Guenther, master of the super airship Asgard, listened to the intercom reports as they came in steadily to the control bridge of the great zeppelin. His second in command, Richard Atkins, marked each item on a long checklist. The Asgard was half again as long as the greatest oceangoing vessel ever built, and there existed no room for errors. The airship had to be balanced perfectly, the center of gravity always known. The three men who shifted ballast and coordinated airship attitudes in flight functioned like orchestra leaders. So huge was the Asgard, and so sensitive in balance and inertia, it took several men to operate the vessel safely and smoothly.
By two o'clock in the morning all prelift requirements had been completed.
Guenther, looking straight ahead through the thick glass panels of the bridge gondola, watched the ground crew in position to begin ascent. From this height, even tethered in the tightfitting canyon of these American savages, the men appeared like toys. Guenther, without turning his head, spoke to Atkins. "All flight crew aboard. Confirm."
Atkins's answer came immediately. "Three to go, sir. They are boarding now.
Two minutes."
Soon Atkins approached Guenther. He held the checklist before the captain.
Guenther waved it aside. He had absolute confidence in his second. "Mister Burgess!" Guenther announced with raised voice. Andrew Burgess, the most experienced pilot aboard, stepped forward. "Sir!"
"Start all engines, Mister."
"Start all engines, sir," Burgess repeated. He went to the control position.
Three banks of instruments were spread out before him. To each side of the position where he would stand were several wheels for raising and lowering the nose, for operating through an elaborate system of hydraulics and cables the elevators and the rudder, and for dumping ballast when necessary. Burgess secured the standing harness about his body; were the vessel to shift to a steep angle of any kind he would be able to remain in the precise position he required to reach and operate the controls.
Standing behind and to his right were three more of his control team, who would relay commands and information from and to the pilot. They would also keep an eye on their own instrument panels. Backup for backup for backup; it was the only proper way to manage the greatest aerial vessel the earth had ever known.