At 07:00, Sam would make an inspection of the boat. He hated to walk, but he insisted on this because he needed the exercise. Also, it helped keep up the appearance of a naval vessel. Without the drills and the inspections, the crew were likely to become sloppy civilians. They would get too off-hand, too familiar with their superiors when on duty.
“I run a tight boat,” Sam had often boasted. “At least, the crew is tight, though no one has ever been found drunk on duty.”
The inspection did not take place that morning. Sam was called to the pilothouse because the radio operator had gotten a message from the Minerva. Before Sam could get off the elevator, the radar scope had blipped an object coming over the mountain to port side.
51
The blimp came down out of the brightness as if it were a silver egg just laid by the sun. To the startled people on the ground, few of whom had ever seen or even heard of an airship before, it was a frightening monster. No doubt some believed that it was a vessel carrying the mysterious beings who had raised them from the dead. A few may even have hailed it with a mixture of dread and joy, sure that a revelation was at hand.
How had the Minerva found the Mark Twain so easily? The great boat was towing a large kite-shaped balloon which was above the top of the mountains and which carried a transmitter sending powerful dots and dashes. Hardy, the Minerva’s navigator, knew the boat’s general location from the map of The River on his table. During the years of its voyaging, the Mark Twain had sent out data by radio which had enabled the Parolanders to trace its route. Furthermore, on spotting the boat, the navigator of the Parseval had sent a message which gave the Minerva a rough location.
Having also been given the location of the Rex, the captain of the Minerva knew that John Lackland’s boat was almost on a straight line with Sam’s due east. The Rex was only 140 kilometers away if a line as straight as a Prussian officer’s back was followed. To follow The River, however, Sam’s boat would have to go perhaps 571,195 kilometers or 355,000 miles before it arrived where the Rex was now.
Greystock, speaking over the transceiver in the control nacelle, asked permission to pass over the Mark Twain.
Sam’s voice was flat over the transceiver. “Why?”
“To salute you,” the Englishman said. “Also, I think that you and your crew might like to get a close look at the vessel that is going to destroy King John. And, to tell the truth, my men and I would like to see your splendid boat at close range.”
He paused, and men said, “It may be our last chance.”
It was Sam who paused this time. Then, sounding as if he were choking back tears, he said, “Okay, Greystock, You may pass by us, but not over us. Call me paranoid. But it makes me uneasy to have an airship carrying four big bombs directly over me. What if they were accidentally released?”
Greystock rolled his eyes in disgust and grinned savagely at the other men in the nacelle.
“Nothing could possibly go wrong,” he said.
“Yeah? That’s what the commander of the Maine said just before he went to bed. No, Greystock, you do as I say.”
Greystock, obviously unhappy, replied that he would obey.
“We’ll circle you once and then get to the job.”
“Good luck on that,” Sam’s voice said. “I know that you fine fellows might not be …”
He seemed unable to complete his sentence.
“We know we might not get back,” Greystock said. “But I think we have an excellent chance of taking the Rex by surprise.”
“I hope so. But remember that the Rex has two airplanes. You’ll have to hit the flight deck first so they can’t get off.” “I don’t need advice,” Greystock said coldly.
There was another pause, longer than the others.
Sam’s voice came over the speaker loudly. “Lothar von Richthofen is coming up to greet you. He wants to fly alongside and give you his personal blessing. That’s the least lean do for him. I’ve had a hell of a time keeping him from convoying you. He’d like to be in on the attack, too.