Aubrey didn't feel as if he wanted to be Gabriel's friend, but he did want to learn more about Gallian politics. 'Tell us more.'
For the next hour, as they wound their way north-west through the city, Gabriel spoke at length about the Marchmaine cause and how just it was. He was particularly strident about how weak the leaders of the Marchmaine Independence League had become, and how it was time for the Sons of Victor – as the true upholders of Marchmaine independence – to assume control of the struggle.
'Through proper democratic processes,' he said, grinning with cold eyes. 'Of course.'
'Of course,' Aubrey echoed.
Eventually, the surroundings became less residential and more industrial, with street lights much less frequent. A large complex with the heady tang of a brewery stood on the edge of what appeared to be open fields and Aubrey realised they were on the edge of the city, where it gave way to countryside. The air was cleaner, fresher, altogether more wholesome.
They turned left off the main road, travelling for another fifteen minutes through dark and flat lands with few signs of habitation. Then they rejoined the main road where the countryside became more thickly wooded, with a dense forest of conifers bordering the road. Ahead, Aubrey could see lights.
'Blockade ahead,' Gabriel said, noticing Aubrey's interest. 'Not to worry. We turn off before it.'
True to his word, the cart almost immediately turned left, through a gate. A well-laid road led to a tall fence, another gate and a guard house. Beyond the fence lay a flat, cleared expanse, surrounded by forest, with buildings in the distance. A number of them showed lights. On the other side of the buildings, enormous cigar shapes bobbed in the light breeze.
Aubrey stared. They were at an airfield.
Gabriel grunted to his colleagues. 'Saltin has scored himself a fine job here. His promotion has made him chief of the engineers.'
'You know Captain Saltin?' Aubrey said.
'Why?'
'He was in Albion recently. George and I saved his life.' Caroline raised an eyebrow. 'You didn't tell me about this.'
'Err. I meant to.'
'Enough,' Gabriel said. 'We'll see if Saltin remembers you.'
They were marched to the guard house. George leaned close. 'Are we safe enough?'
'For the time being.' Aubrey rubbed his hands together. Slipping away from these ruffians would seem to be the best course of action, but this was an opportunity to gather information – and he couldn't ignore that. 'Be ready. We may have to move quickly.'
George gave a surreptitious wink. Then he leaned against the fence and did his best to look like a harmless Albionish buffoon, smiling cheerfully and gazing about with benign interest. It was a guise he sometimes used, and Aubrey knew that it made people take him too lightly – often to their detriment.
Gabriel spent some time with the guards, finally leaving them with laughter and encouraging slaps on the back.
He rejoined Aubrey and the others. 'We go to the main hangar. Saltin is there.'
They left the wagon at the gate. The Sons of Victor fell in around Aubrey and his friends. Aubrey had the impression that while they weren't exactly being guarded, the Marchmainers didn't fully trust them, either.
Aubrey counted six dirigibles on the far side of the airfield, moored to their masts. Five were the regular VT model, and showed no running lights, but one was different. It had a distinctively shaped gondola, while the tail array was one he'd never seen before.
They skirted a cluster of smaller buildings and rounded a number of large, domed fuel stores. Gabriel led them to the third of four enormous buildings, both ends of which were made up entirely of immense doors. The doors were closed, so Gabriel took them to a smaller, humansized entrance. It rolled back with a screech of metal.
Inside, the space was gargantuan, large enough to build mountains. It was lit by huge electric lights dangling from the far-off ceiling like upside-down mushrooms. The place was still, tense with the thunderstorm tang of ozone.
Gabriel herded them toward a workbench, but Aubrey had no eyes for it. In the middle of the hangar, surrounded by an immense scaffold, was the beginnings of an airship.
He'd never seen a partially constructed dirigible before. It looked like the skeleton of a creature from the dawn of time. Giant ribs that would one day be covered by a skin of aluminium were evenly spaced along the central keel. The supports for the enormous gasbags that would give the ship its lift were in place. Nothing had been done on the control car or the motors.
Aubrey was in awe of the grace of the thing. While some people found airships ponderous, he always thought of them as stately, unhurried in a time where speed was a god.
Gabriel condescended to notice Aubrey's admiration. 'You like our dirigibles?'
'I do. The Gallian service has come up with some remarkable advances.'
'Gallian? It is Marchmainers who are the core of the Dirigible Corps. We are the best pilots, the best navigators, the best engineers. And here is the best of the best.'
A uniformed figure strode toward them.
'Ah, Saltin!' Gabriel called.
Aubrey saw that Saltin's left hand was still bandaged, but his eyebrows and hair were well on the way to growing back. He gripped Gabriel's hand. 'My friend!' he said to Gabriel. 'I have an airship ready for your departure as you requested. One hour and you will be in Marchmaine.'
Gabriel glowered. 'We cannot go. We do not have the treasure yet.'
Saltin opened his mouth to speak, but then he saw Aubrey. His eyes widened. 'No, this cannot be!'
'What is it?' Gabriel asked.
'This is my saviour! Gabriel, I would not be here today without him.' He took a pace and embraced Aubrey, then kissed him on both cheeks. 'Fitzwilliam, I'm glad you're finally here,' he said in Albionish. 'Have you come to see our revolutionary new 200 design?' He saw George. 'And your friend!' This led to another bout of embracing and cheek kissing.
Saltin was a Marchmainer, but he was still a Gallian. When he saw Caroline, he was overcome. 'And who is this wondrous creature? Another friend of yours, Fitzwilliam? If so, you are fortunate indeed.'
Aubrey made the introductions. Saltin bowed. 'I am delighted to meet you, Miss Hepworth.'
'I am not a creature,' she said.
'I beg your pardon?' Saltin wrinkled his brow.
'I am a human being, as much as anyone. Not a creature.'
'Ah, please excuse my boorishness! I do not know what I am saying.' Saltin put his hand on Aubrey's shoulder. 'I am glad you are here. I did not have the chance to thank you in true fashion, with a toast. I have a bottle or two from the family cellars in my office.'
'No time for that now,' Gabriel said sourly. 'Is he who he says he is? An Albionite?'
'Of course he is. How could the son of their Prime Minister be anything but?'
While Aubrey watched Gabriel's expression change from suspicion to astonishment, he tried to think how he could turn this revelation to his advantage.