Airship City

Chapter 34

IONE

As they made their way towards the stairwell, Ione began to have second thoughts about her bravado, but she couldn’t turn around now, not in front of Harry, who was forging ahead eagerly, and looking back over his shoulder periodically to be sure that she was following.

They entered the stairwell, and began to descend. “Where does this lead to?” she asked.

“It goes right the way down through all the decks. Ends up between the outer and inner lifting cells.”

She frowned. Maybe whoever had kidnapped Joseph— probably Black Rose— was intending to do something to the lifting cells. Cause a gas leak, maybe, so that Aeropolis would have to be evacuated. “We should go down there.”

Harry looked at her uncertainly. “It’s a long way down, miss.”

“Let’s get going, then.” She pushed past him and began to clatter down the stairs as fast as her legs could move.

The succession of identical flights of stairs seemed endless, and after a while Ione began to feel as if she were in some nightmare, where the stairs did in fact go on forever, and she felt slightly panicky. She rushed on faster, taking the stairs two at a time, and racing around each landing to look down the stairs at the next flight, hoping against hope it would be the last. 

 Eventually it was. They had reached the bottom. Harry cautiously opened the door that led out of the stairwell. “No-one there,” he said, and moved quietly through it. She followed him into a curved corridor. The inner wall was covered in a silvery fabric. “That’s the inner lifting cell ring,” said Harry.

Ione nodded, looking to the left and right, trying to decide which way to go. “I suppose we’d cover more ground if we split up. But if you see or hear anything, turn around and come find me, OK?”

Harry nodded, and set off to the left, as she started walking to the right. After about fifty yards, she came to an opening in the right-hand wall. It was the mouth of a short passageway, at the end of which was another corridor running at right angles to it. She walked along it cautiously, emerging into the second corridor facing another fabric-covered wall, which seemed to bulge outwards. This time she turned left, and walked along the new corridor, which was less tightly curved, trying to see as far ahead as possible.

Presently she saw what looked like a steel chair, with a dark figure seated upon it. She stopped, then crept forward as silently as she could, hugging the inside wall. But as she got closer, she saw that what had looked like a person was actually just a pile of paint-stained drop cloths. There were some tins of paint, and a couple of boxes of paint rollers, rags, thinners, and small paintbrushes standing next to the chair.

Leaning against the chair was a long metal rod, with a grip on one end. She inspected it more closely. It was hollow, with a fitting on the other end that would take a paint roller. By picking it up and hefting it she discovered that its weight was not much more than that of a sabre. It felt good in her hand, and she decided to carry it. She felt a little better now that she was armed, even if it was only with a rod.

She resumed her progress along the curved corridor, and soon she heard voices up ahead. Moving ahead more cautiously, she tried to make out what they were saying. Her heart leapt when she recognised Joseph’s voice, but a moment later she was stunned to hear Blake’s voice as well. She listened carefully, but there was no doubt about it.

What in the world is Blake doing here with Joseph? Have they both been kidnapped by Black Rose? But she hadn’t heard a third voice. She stopped, crouching down, and concentrated on what was being said.

“Look, I can help you. We could do this thing together.” Joseph’s voice sounded strained, and there was a wheedling tone in it that made her uncomfortable. But what thing was he talking about?

“Don’t need any help, thanks.” Blake’s tone was clipped, and slightly derisive. “Even if there was something you could do, why would I trust you?”

Ione frowned. Why was Blake speaking so oddly to Joseph? She listened carefully to Joseph’s reply.

“You can trust me if you’re working against Howard Hughes, because I hate him!”

Ione had to stifle a gasp. What on earth was going on? Why would Joseph say such a thing? 

“Oh, you hate him, do you?” Blake’s reply was almost bored. “I suppose you’re going to tell me why, too.”

“He was rude to me.” Joseph’s tone was defensive.

Blake gave a mocking laugh. “Lord have mercy! Rude to you? Say it isn’t so. No wonder you hate him.” There was a pause, and then Blake’s voice continued. “So tell me, Joseph, do you think everyone that Howard has been rude to hates him? Hell, is there even anyone he hasn’t been rude to?”

The shock of what she had heard was wearing off, and in its place, anger was building as she listened to the disrespectful way the two of them were speaking about her father.

“Come on, Joseph,” he continued, his tone becoming more and more mocking. “Haven’t you got anything else to tell me, to show me how much you hate Howard? How you’ve been itching to join a plot against him? How you’re just the man for the job? Hmm? Come on. Don’t be so modest!”

Ione was seething as she waited for Joseph’s reply. What would he say to that?

When it came, it was an angry shout. “You know damn well why I hate Hughes. He killed my father!”

It was too much for Ione. She got to her feet in a blaze of anger and charged around the corner, screaming like a madwoman.