Oh, this is so exciting, the older woman cooed in an upper-class accent that Mercy thought might come from farther east, maybe on the coast, or maybe she only thought that because the womans companion was wearing a jacket that reminded Mercy of an ocean trade. But she wouldve made a bet that they hailed from Savannah, or Charleston.
Exciting! repeated the husband, who was entirely too thin for his clothing. He rattled around inside it when he took his wifes arm and let her lead him over to the accordion stairs.
Mercy couldnt shake the impression that the poor old gentleman wasnt all there. But his wife was still plenty sharp, and she guided him to the places where she wanted him.
One by one they filed aboard the craft, Mercy refusing to allow Mr. Rand to help hoist her baggage up the stairway, and the little old man babbling happily to his wife. The other two passengers, a pair of students from Atlanta named Larsen and Dennis, were working their way home to family after studying in Richmond for the year. On the way on board, the captain asked one of them if hed learned anything interesting, and the baby-faced lad said something about how very fascinating he found the war. Mercy assumed that he found the engagement fascinating because hed never be bound to fight it. A clubfoot interfered with walking, stair-climbing, and even settling into a seat. Hed never be drafted, even in the Confederacys darkest hours of desperation.
His seat was next to his scholarly friends, opposite the aisle from Mercys. He gave her a shy smile that might have been less earnest if shed removed her gloves.
Mr. Rand was forward a few rows, to the nurses idle relief. The elderly couple sat behind her. Two of the crew members fastened themselves to a belted rack built into the dirigibles interior walls, at the rear of the craft; the remaining donned another hat and joined the captain in the cockpit-presumably to serve as copilot, or first mate, or however these things worked. Mercys curiosity was dampened by her nervousness, and by the frittering patter of artillery fire she could swear she heard, even from
inside the ship.
Something about the look on her face prompted the lame student to ask, Maam?
And she replied, Do you hear that? Or is it only me?
Hear what?
That sound, like gunfire.
Mr. Rand turned around to meet her eyes, barely, over his shoulder and over his seat back. Dont worry about that sound, Mrs. Lynch. Its the sound of a pneumatic hammer working on rivets somewhere. Were miles from the nearest fighting, you know.
I know, she said without conviction.
Captain Gates made a rambling, chipper series of announcements over a speaking tube that was all but superfluous. The passenger cabin was so small, and so close to the cockpit, that he couldve simply turned around and given his announcements in an ordinary speaking voice and everyone wouldve heard him just fine.
He concluded by informing them that, The claws have been unlatched, the tanks are topped off, and our course is set. Were ready for takeoff. With that, the sounds of machinery aligning, clicking, adjusting, and correcting filled the chamber.
But then the lifting of the ship was accompanied by a strange silence, as if all that preparation had been for something imaginary. And now nothing was happening at all, except the belly-moving rise of the ship as it drifted vertically above the trees to dangle below the low-lying clouds.
Mercys stomach lunged in slow motion, along with the sway of the craft. She placed one hand there as if to hold her belly in place, and gripped the arm of the seat with her other hand. She wasnt going to vomit. That wasnt in the cards. But she could hardly bring herself to look out the round portal to her right, at least not for the first few minutes. She gave it only the barest glance until the ride seemed secure and steady and she was convinced that Captain Gates wouldnt kill everyone on board with an incorrectly pressed button or lever. Then her gaze slipped sideways to the reinforced glass and she peered down and out as far as the curve of the ship allowed. Below, the trees shivered in the breeze and the people at the airyard grew small, as small as mice, and then as small as beetles.
Were flying! declared the old man.
Indeed, love, said his wife.
The students tittered to each other, quietly whispering and pointing out landmarks below; and for a moment, Mercy wondered what was wrong with the one who appeared able-bodied. Why hadnt he been fighting? Why had he been studying in Richmond? Half the schools were more than half empty. The study of anything but war had become a tricky thing, almost a socially prohibited thing. Still, someone had to read the books, she figured. Shed never been much of a reader herself, but she wouldnt begrudge anyone else the privilege. God knew the Confederacy needed doctors and military tacticians as surely as it needed mechanics and oilmen, engineers and pilots. Rationally she knew that no one learned these things spontaneously, and that few people even learned them as apprentices. But still, all the young men shed known for the last few years had been soldiers, and rarely anything else before or after.