. . . your new editor accepts the suggestion of President Fircbrass that this journal temper the privilege of free speech with discretion.
… Mr. Arduino was released after promising that he would no longer settle grievances, justified or unjustified, by violent means. The newly created Board of Civil Disputes will handle such matters from now on with President Firebrass as the court of last appeal. Though we will miss S.C. Bagg, we must confess that . . .
. . . Metzing had been chief of the Naval Airship Division of Imperial Germany in 1913. He was Korvettenkapitan of the Zeppelin L-l when it went down on September 9, 1913, during maneuvers. This was the first naval Zeppelin to be lost. The crash was not due to any deficiency on the part of crew or vessel but to the ignorance at that time of meteorological conditions in the upper air. In other words, weather forecasting was then a primitive science. A violent line squall lifted the L-1 up past her pressure height and then dashed her down. With propellers still spinning and ballast ejecting, the ship smashed into the sea off Heligoland. Metzing died with most of his crew . . . We welcome this experienced officer and likable gentleman to Parolando but hope he brings no bad luck with him.
. . . Flash! Just arrived! Another airship veteran, Anna Karlovna Obrenova from up-River some 40,000 kilometers. In the brief interview allowed before Ms. Obrenova was taken to President Firebass’ HQ, we learned that she had been captain of the USSR freighter-dirigible Lermontov, logging 8584 hours of flight time in this and other airships. This exceeds Ms. Gulbirra’s 8342 hours and Mr. Thorn’s 8452 hours. A complete account of Obrenova should be in tomorrow’s issue. All we can say at the moment is that she is a peach, a real pipperoo!
37
It was funny, though not laughing-funny.
She had been worried that a man with more airtime than herself would show up. One had, but he had not been aggressive. His only ambition was to be on the ship, and he did not seem to care what rank he got.
Somehow, she had never thought of being displaced by a woman. There were so few female airship officers in her time. And so few people who had lived past 1983 had come by-only one, in fact- that she had not worried about dirigibilists of that era. From what Firebrass said, post-1983 had been the great age of the large rigid airships. But the odds against aeronauts of that era showing were high.
Chance had thrown its dice, andsohere was Obrenova, a woman who had 860 hours flight time as captain of a giant Soviet airship.
So far, the officers’ positions had not been announced. No matter. Jill knew that the little blonde newcomer would be first mate. Realistically, she should be. If Jill were in Firebrass’ place, she would have had to appoint Obrenova as first mate.
On the other hand, there were only two months left before the Parseval took off for the polar voyage. The Russian might need more retraining than that. After thirty-four years of ground life, she would be rusty. She would have a month reacquainting herself with gasbags in the Minerva. Then she would have a month of training in the big ship with everybody else.
Could she do it? Of course, she could. Jill would have been able to do it in that time.
She had been in the conference, room with the officer candidates when Anna Obrenova was brought in by Agatha. On seeing her, Jill’s heart had seemed to turn over like a sluggish motor. Before she heard Agatha’s excited announcement of the newcomer’s identity, she had known what it would be.
Anna Obrenova was short and slim but long legged and full breasted. She had long, shining yellow hair and large, dark blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, a cupid’s bow mouth, and a deep tan. She was, to quote another newspaper article, a “beaut.”
Disgustingly delicate and feminine. Unfairly so. Just the type that men simultaneously wanted to protect and to bed.
Firebrass was on his feet, advancing toward her, his face aglow, his eyes seeming to drip male hormones.