“Thank you, sire,” said Gorman, unperturbed. He turned and snapped out an order to the helmsmen. There was an increase of sound from the thrusters. The Lord Pangloth’s descent slowed. Jan saw that the summits of the surrounding hills were now level with the control room.
“Take us up, fast,” ordered Gorman.
But it was too late. The three new ‘water tanks’ were opening up like vast, wooden flowers, revealing that they contained not water, but something very different.
Chapter Seventeen
“All units to battle stations!” yelled Gorman into the microphone connected to loudspeakers throughout the airship. “We are under attack!”
“What are they?” asked the Prince as he stared wide-eyed at the three rapidly rising objects.
“Balloons,” said Gorman. “Hot-air balloons. And damn big ones.”
Two of the balloons were rising on the Lord Pangloth’s port side, the third was to starboard. The ‘water tanks’, it was obvious now, had been flimsy wooden constructs concealing the large balloons, which Jan estimated were about eighty feet from top to bottom. They were level with the airship’s lower hull and she could see plainly the structures hanging beneath each balloon. They were big wooden cages filled with men, ropes, boxes and objects that were presumably weapons. At the centre of the cage sat a huge stove that men were furiously feeding with pieces of coal and wood. The stack of each stove disappeared into the open neck of the towering balloon above.
“Shoot them down!” cried the Prince. “Blow them out of the sky with the cannon! They have no right to be up here! They are breaking the first law of the Sky Lords!” He had risen to his feet and his face had gone very red.
“They are moving too fast for the cannon,” said Gorman. This was true. The three balloons were ascending much faster than the Lord Pangloth and would soon be out of sight to those in the control room. Gorman leaned over the microphone again. “All units of riflemen—open fire!”
Instantly Jan heard the crackling of gunfire. She saw a man in one of the wooden cages fall backwards. The others took cover where they could. Jan saw puffs of smoke along the side of the cage. The Bandalans were firing back, but then came flashes of light. The Lord Pangloth’s automatic defences—the lasers—were designed to destroy threatening objects even as small as bullets.
“Can’t we rise any faster?” cried the Prince.
“No, sire,” answered Gorman. “The thrusters are at full power. We’re raising the temperature of the gas in the cells which will give us extra lift but it will be some time before that takes effect.”
The three balloons had now passed out of sight. The sound of rifle-fire continued.
“What do those stupid earthworms think they’re doing, Gorman?” demanded the Prince.
“I don’t know, yet,” confessed Gorman. Jan had never seen him looking so concerned. She realized he was now helpless, with no way of knowing what was going on outside. Everything had been designed to deal with events happening on the ground; Gorman and his men were not prepared for dealing with threats that came from above. Nor was the loudspeaker system any help. Gorman could issue orders to the rest of the ship but communication worked one way only. The original system had long since fallen into disrepair and the only way to get a message into the control room was to have it physically delivered. And by the time any messenger arrived the Bandalans would have no doubt already done whatever they planned to do.
“Sire, I’m going to order full ahead. It’s too dangerous to stay in the area,” Gorman told the prince.
“What?” Casper looked astonished. “You mean flee? No, out of the question, Gorman. The Lord Pangloth will never run away from a bunch of earthworms. …”
“Consider it a temporary retreat, sire,” said Gorman with strained formality. “We shall return when we are in a safe altitude and suitably punish the Bandalans.”
“No,” said Caspar, his voice cracking with anger. “A Sky Lord would never. …”
His words were drowned out by a large explosion. There were cries of alarm from some of the Engineers as the deck began to sway back and forth. Then Jan saw pieces of wreckage dropping from the sky on the starboard side of the airship. Fragments of charred and burning wood … bits of rope … blackened objects that she realized were parts of bodies. Then, more slowly, the burning, twisting balloon canopy of one of the hot-air balloons. Ripped apart, it flapped downwards like a giant piece of burning rag.
The Engineers began to cheer. The Prince rounded on Gorman with a triumphant grin. “See, Gorman! So much for the earthworms! You said our cannons couldn’t hit them but they have!”
Gorman was still watching the falling canopy, his expression grim. He said, “Sire, one of our shells could not have produced such a massive explosion. The only other explanation is that the Bandalans were carrying explosives of their own. And that means the other two balloons are similarly equipped. I repeat, sire, we must leave the area immediately.”
Prince Caspar’s look of triumph drained away. “You think there is a chance the Bandalans could harm us?”
“I do, sire. Let me give the order to proceed full ahead.”
Caspar chewed his lower lip worriedly, then nodded. “Very well, Gorman, but I’m holding you responsible.”
“Full ahead!” Gorman snapped to the helmsmen.
They pushed levers. The control room juddered as the Lord Pangloth’s thrusters changed direction and started to drive the mile-long vessel forward.
Then came another explosion. Seconds later the deck again began to tilt, but so violently this time that several of the Engineers lost their balance. Jan would have fallen too if she hadn’t been holding on to the back of the throne. Caspar wasn’t so fortunate and was pitched off the dais to land on his hands and knees behind Gorman. Gorman helped him up as one of the Engineers yelled, “Sir, we’re losing altitude! Instruments show a major rupture in Cell number Seven!”
White-faced, the Prince clung on to Gorman and cried at him, “My God, they’ve blown us up! We’re on fire!”
“Cell Seven contains helium, sire! Or rather it did. …” Gorman tried to pull free of the Prince’s convulsive grip. “Everyone remain calm!” he yelled, more for the Prince’s benefit than anyone else. “How fast are we losing altitude?”
“Just over a foot every second!” called back the Engineer who was monitoring a row of altimeters. “Seventy feet a minute.”
“Sir!” cried one of the helmsmen. “If we keep descending at this rate we’re going to hit that next range of hills ahead of us.”
“Gorman, do something!” cried the Prince, still gripping his arms. “I order you to do something!”
What Gorman did was to give the Prince such a violent shove that he fell backwards and landed heavily on the deck. Caspar’s first reaction was one of stunned amazement, then his expression changed to one of naked fury. “Kill him!” he ordered Dalwyn, who was already moving towards Gorman. “He dared to lay hands upon me.”
Dalwyn grabbed Gorman by the throat but seemed unsure of what to do. He looked enquiringly to the Prince. “Kill him!” yelled Caspar again, getting to his feet and reaching for his ceremonial sword. “Or I will myself!”
The scene formed a bizarre tableau within the control room, with everyone frozen except the Prince, who was drawing his sword and advancing on Gorman. Then Jan saw that Gorman was giving her a pleading look. …