Just a little further and we’ll be out of their range.
“Okay, we’ve reached 25 mph. Let’s switch the ship to flight configuration and see if we can increase our speed some more.”
“Copy that,” Franck said, as he pulled the levers before him, to a horizontal level. Now, the Magdalena was using its fins, not its engines, to control the ship's motion.
Like a ship in water, the Magdalena’s steering wheel felt as though it was having more of an effect on their direction now that their speed had increased.
The ship now flew more like a yacht with a rudder. As such, Peter had to contend with other factors, such as air currents and thermals. It had taken years of experience, but he had learned to make minor adjustments early for expected changes.
“Good, our speed is picking up. It’s now at 30 mph.” Peter then noticed that his left hand was struggling to keep the pitch of the nose straight and level. “Can you check the helium again, she seems to be sinking?”
Franck ran his hands over each of the gauges and then he stopped at number fourteen. It was the one that was placed in the nose of the ship.
“It’s already down to 3.5millibars. We’re quickly leaking gas from compartment number fourteen,” Franck said.
“Okay, we’re going to have to re-route some of the helium from the other tanks.”
“Copy that.” Franck started to make the adjustments on the valves to move helium from the remaining thirteen compartments to the front. “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“How long can we keep her in the air by doing this?”
“I don’t know. Four, perhaps five hours?” Peter said. Then, tapping on the pressure gauge to make certain the swivel stick hadn’t become stuck, he said, “It will be close, but we might just make it. We’re going to lose some gas as we fly over the mountains. I’ll get up into the canopy shortly and see if I can repair the helium bladder by myself.”
After a couple of minutes the Magdalena seemed to return to her normal flying capabilities, and, with the exception of a faulty compass, they were on their normal route for the night. They might still make it.
Their planned route was going to take them east, over Lake Constance at the base of the Alps. Then, by maintaining a more northerly route, they would avoid the Alps and enter Switzerland over Mount Uetliberg. At the entrance to Zurich, in northeast Switzerland, Mount Uetliberg rose to an elevation of 2850 feet above sea level.
A zeppelin had a maximum ceiling height of 650 feet. The Magdalena was not a zeppelin, and Peter had specifically engineered her for travel through Europe which has a number of high mountains. As the airship rises, the helium expands, and contracts when it descends. In order to maintain a constant pressure within, a ballonet is installed, which is simply a bag of air, which is inflated or deflated in order to maintain a constant pressure inside the envelope despite changing air pressures. This, in turn, allows the helium to expand and contract. When the ballonet is completely empty, the airship is said to be at its "pressure height."
The initial design of the ballonet size determines an individual airship's maximum change of altitude capability. The Magdalena had a maximum change in altitude of 4000 feet, but it could, in theory, continue to rise indefinitely if the expanding helium was constantly released. The problem was that by doing so, you would waste a lot of helium.
Peter set his course at a dead reckoning.
“Okay, Franck. I’d better get back there and make sure our guests are all right. Keep the nose between those two stars there,” he said, pointing in front of him.
“Copy that.” Franck said, as he gripped the steering wheel and then added, “Don’t take too long. I might need you up here.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Peter opened the door of the forward pilot gondola and stepped out onto the open air gangway to the primary gondola. The cool air was refreshing. He looked at the trees, which looked more like grass, scattered over the hills far below. There were no lights on. Concerns over British air raids still prohibited the use of lights during night time hours. Behind him, he could just make out the center of Berlin.
He loved it up there.
Many of the people he studied with were interested in building faster and more powerful planes. They said that after the Hindenburg disaster, airships would become antiquated. It was a shame, he thought, since this was the way he wanted to see the world.
He wondered if he’d built the last airship.
Like all engineers, Peter inspected the frame of his precious canopy first, before checking on his human cargo. From the outside it appeared intact, although he dared not shine a flashlight on any of it in case he exposed the Magdalena to attack. He was certain that some of the bullets had placed little holes inside her canopy, and the subsequent loss of helium would be insurmountable. He opened the hatch above his head and climbed inside the canopy.
He shined his flashlight through each helium bladder, one by one, listening for the telltale hissing of a gas leak.
Peter barely prevented himself from crying out when he first saw it.
If there was a small hole in the helium bladder in compartment number fourteen, at the bow of the Magdalena, he could fix it, but there was no way he could possibly repair the three foot tear he saw before him.
Without wasting more time, he climbed back down to the air gangway and then opened the door to the primary gondola and his guests.
Everyone inside the gondola was so quiet that, at first, he didn’t even realize what had happened. Then he saw her. It was young Sarah. Her skin was so white, that he wondered whether she might be dead. Then, he noticed that the professor had torn part of his shirt and used it as a tourniquet to wrap around her arm.
She was still breathing.
“Is she going to be all right?”
“Yes. She’s been shot in her arm, and has lost a lot of blood, but I believe she will make it — so long as we get her to a doctor before morning.”
“Peter, what happened?” Margaret, Sarah’s mother, asked as she accosted him.
“We were fired upon.” To Peter, it seemed like such an obvious answer to a question that barely required one.
“But of course we all realize that. What I want to know is, are we okay? I mean, will we make it?”
“One of the bullets tore a hole in compartment number fourteen, and we’re venting large amounts helium. Also, our magnetic gyroscope has been shot to pieces, so we’re flying somewhat blind, but yes, I believe we will indeed make it.”
Peter looked at Margaret.
The edge of her lip curled as though she had just bitten something pungent, “This is your fault for waiting so long before taking off!”
There was nothing he could say in response. It was true, if he’d left earlier, Sarah wouldn’t have been shot. “I’m very sorry. Now, I must continue making inspections of my ship.”
He then walked to the back of the gondola and stepped out of the door and into the open air gangway to check on the motors in the rear gondola. Ordinarily, he would have a team of at least five mechanics and an engineer on board, to constantly assess the engines. Tonight, they would simply have to make it on their own.
Before Peter shut the door, Fritz followed him through it and said, “Thank you for waiting for me. Let me assure you, it was important.”
Peter imagined that every passenger aboard thought that their life was important. He knew damn well that they would have made a clean getaway if he hadn’t waited for Ribbentrop. “Let’s just hope we make it, Fritz. If we don’t, their deaths will be on your head.”
“Of course, they will,” Fritz replied with a shrug of his shoulders, seemingly comfortable accepting such responsibility.
Again, Peter wondered how it was possible that such a senior member of Hitler’s regime to feel the need to escape tonight, and hoped that he hadn’t misjudged his old friend. Peter didn’t consider it for long. He still had a job to do, if any of them were going to make it out of Germany safely.