Grantville Gazette-Volume XIII

  "Fritz, where are you? You have been gone so long. Are you all right?"

  There was no answer. Ulrich checked the fire, and on J.D., snoring away in the pile of old leaves. Both could be alone for a few minutes. He stood for a moment outside the circle of firelight to let his eyes adjust, and then walked toward the bush.

  "Fritz?" Ulrich listened for a moment, and then heard leaves rustling and the soft crack of a twig. It was coming off to his left. "Fritz, are you there? Fritz?"

  Still he could hear nothing except rustling leaves. And he couldn't tell if it was Fritz, or a slight wind in the treetops.

  Then a terrified scream split the night. It was ahead of him, and a little more to the left. "Fritz, answer me!"

  "Ulrich? Can you hear me?"

  "Yes, Fritz. Where are you?"

  "I . . . I don't know."

  "Just keep talking, and I will find you." Ulrich thought that Fritz's voice sounded strained and frightened.

  "Ulrich, my leg really hurts. I thought I saw a light over here, but when I came toward it, the ground suddenly disappeared."

  Ulrich was inching forward with his hands feeling the dark ground in front of him. "Keep talking, Fritz. I am close. I will help."

  "I thought it was a lantern or something through the trees, and I thought I could find someone to help us. I guess it was a witch light, like in Tom Sawyer."

  Ulrich felt bare rock, then nothing. He laid down on his belly, and inched forward until his head was hanging out over a chasm. In the darkness, it was difficult to tell how large it was. Fritz had fallen into a sinkhole. "Fritz, where are you hurt?"

  "I don't know, Herr Scoutmeister. My arm isn't moving too well, and my leg really hurts." Ulrich could hear suppressed tears in the boy's voice.

  "Don't move! I will get a light."

  * * *

  Marlon rolled out of bed promptly at 4:30 a.m., as he had done every morning at any balloon rally he had attended. Balloonists know that in the hour right at dawn, the air is at it's coolest—which aids in hot-air inflation—and the wind was usually still. He didn't want to inflate this monster in anything more than a one- to two-knot ground breeze.

  "I'm going to go start breakfast," Reva said, a bit drowsily.

  "Woman, don't bother with food right now. I got too much on my mind for that."

  "I got something special planned for you, you old goat. I don't want no backtalk, either. You hear me?" The last was delivered with a stern expression, but the twinkling gray eyes and wry smile let Marlon know she was teasing him.

  He grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

  * * *

  Bernard and Helga were pulling on coats and work gloves. Marlon pulled his old leather gloves from his back pocket and did the same. "I'm kind of glad we don't have everyone in the neighborhood underfoot when we try to launch today."

  Bernard nodded. "Ja, it is better to fail without an audience."

  "What do you mean, fail? Don't you think we'll get it off the ground?" Marlon turned his grin on Helga. "Maybe I shoulda had you get that young man to help us today. We've still got a lot of work ahead to get this beast off the ground." Marlon's eyes twinkled as he teased her. "What was his name? Oh, yeah, Ulrich. Maybe he could come over and help out. We could use another strong back."

  "I think he does not like me now," Helga said. "He said he would call last night when he got back from the hike. But he didn't."

  "That's too bad. He'd have been a great help."

  Bernard frowned. "I think we can do this without that man."

  Marlon laughed out loud. "Well, Bernard, we're gonna have to, I guess."

  They proceeded out to the meadow. The morning was crisp and cold, just like the weather guessers said it would be. In the pre-dawn, the wind still hadn't risen and that argued for little or no wind at dawn.

  "We need to christen this ship before we launch," Marlon said. "And I think I know what to name her. Helga, go ask Reva for something fizzy to launch this with."

  Moments later, she returned carrying a beer bottle, and a strange paper contraption, followed by Reva and Agnes.

  Laughing, Marlon took the items. "Looks like Reva anticipated what I'd want again."

  They stood in a half-circle around the bow of the ship. Marlon didn't want to break a good bottle or leave glass in the meadow. So he opened the flip lid and said, "I hereby christen thee Upwind." He splashed about half the beer on the nose of the gondola, and then they shared sips of the rest of the brew.

  "Okay, time to get this show on the road. I need to know wind speeds in the upper levels of atmosphere."

  While Reva and Agnes went back to the house, Helga picked up the paper construction she had carried from the kitchen. It was a small handmade balloon with a cup on the bottom that held a candle stub. She held the paper form from a string in the top.

  Marlon went into the meadow to get a good clear view. From forty feet away, he shouted, "Light it up." Soon the paper balloon was filled with hot air, trying to escape sky ward. The balloon had a white ribbon hanging from the cup.

  "Let her go!" Marlon couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice.

  The balloon rose gracefully upward. drifting a little away from town. At about two thousand feet, the candle guttered out. Even the ribbon wasn't visible.

  "Almost no wind. It'll be a good flight," Marlon said. "Now be careful when we take up the tarps. The dew has settled, and we don't want the envelope wet. Pick the tarp up, and let the water pour off the side. And for heaven's sake, don't step on the envelope."

  Bernard and Helga lifted the tarps and poured the little rivulets of water to the side. Marlon stood for a moment, admiring the ship.

  Reva came out of the house with a tray. Agnes followed behind her with a steaming pot of tea and four cups. "Marlon, before you go too far, it's time to eat."

  "Woman, I don't have time for that. We need to get this thing off the ground!"

  "Now, none of that, Swordfish." She motioned to Bernard, who took the small TV table from under her elbow and set it up. She set the tray on the table, whisked off the towel, and there, steaming invitingly, was a collection of bundles wrapped in napkins.

  "What is it?" Marlon stepped closer, and got a whiff of beans and chili. "My favorite. When did you make breakfast burritos?"

  "I put them together this morning. Went over to Monica's yesterday, and we made up a batch of refried beans and some of her carne adovada. What do you think I was doing all day, lollygagging?"

  * * *

  The envelope was inflated, and the engines were running. Helga and Bernard had taken their seats in the gondola, and Marlon was doing final checks.

  Reva nodded. "Nothing to worry about, Swordfish. Do everything by the numbers, and you'll be a winner."

  Marlon wrapped his arms around his wife and leaned his cheek against the top of her head. "Woman, how could I have ever done anything without you?"

  "You couldn't, of course." With that, Reva released Marlon, and then stepped back to the truck next to the bow line.

  Marlon grinned and climbed into the gondola. He throttled up and looked to where his wife was waiting, next to the truck.

  "Reva!" Marlon chopped his hand down, and she pulled the link. The bow line fell away from the truck. With another pull at full burner, the ground fell away just as the sun broke over the horizon.

  Helga let out a long sigh and stared at the ground. "Herr Pridmore, this is marvelous!"

  "Yes, it is. I remember my first flight. Today's flight will be special for all of us. Where should we go first?"

  Helga shrugged and giggled like a little girl. "Oh, Herr Pridmore. Wherever you take us is fine. I just love the trip."

  Leveling off at five hundred feet above ground level, Marlon gave the controls a work-out. He steered the airship to the left, then right, all the time drifting slowly backwards. This was definitely not something you could do in a balloon. He maneuvered the controls up and down, watching as small movements of the pitch wheel easily changed the at
titude of the ship.

  He looked over his shoulder at Bernard and Helga. "So, what do you think?" He had to shout to make himself heard over the fan and the burners.

  Bernard was gripping the back of Marlon's seat so hard that his knuckles were white. Helga, on the other hand, was leaning across the edge of the gondola, and waving down at her mother and Reva. "Hello Mutti, hello Reva! Oh, Poppi, everything looks so small!"

  Bernard nodded, and forced himself to look down at his wife, then closed his eyes, and continued holding on. Marlon hid a smile and remembered his first trip above the ground. There were a few moments of terror, but he couldn't even remember what that felt like.

  The radio, popped a short shot of static. "This is Sweetpea. Ya having fun?" Reva's voice had the same smile in it that he had heard on other balloon flights. She had gone up a couple of times, but enjoyed the chase crew more.

  "Swordfish back at ya. This is great! Did you see me steer it in a circle? I've wanted to do this most of my life. For now, I'm gonna take her out about a mile or so. I'll stay in line of sight and radio range."

  "Sounds about right to me. If you have to put it down, I'll run the truck out to find you."

  "Roger. Swordfish out."

  * * *

  Ulrich sat at the top of the sinkhole and tried to comfort Fritz through the coldest part of the early morning. The darkness was easier for Fritz to bear when he knew he wasn't alone. Just before dawn, J.D. woke up alone and cold. Ulrich brought him over by the sinkhole and built another fire. They tossed the blanket down to Fritz, but could do nothing else.

  Ulrich was still grateful for small miracles. He was certain that if it had really gotten cold last night, they would all be in very bad shape. Something nagged at the back of his brain, something about emergency situations. He couldn't remember what it might be. First, he decided, he would get the boys warm, attend to Fritz's wounds, and then try to remember.

  * * *

  Reva was changing into her Sunday best when the phone rang. "Hello?"

  "Mrs. Pridmore?"

  "Yes. Who is this?"

  "Ma'am, this is Matt Prickett, from the police department."

  "Oh, yes. I remember. Is there a problem, Officer Prickett?"

  "Yes, ma'am, there is. Is Marlon around?"

  "Oh, dear. I'm afraid he's out right now. Is there something I can do for you?"

  "Well, Mrs. Pridmore, we got us a search and rescue situation here. The boy scouts had an activity yesterday out there at the duke's preserve, and three of the troop didn't come home last night. They searched as well as they could with torches and such most of the night, but didn't find any trace of them. So we need all the volunteers to report to their teams."

  "Oh, my goodness. Which boys are they?"

  There was a rustling as Officer Prickett turned pages. "I have the names Ulrich Schwarz, Fritz Metzger, and J.D. Cunningham. The first one is the assistant scout leader, and the other two are both eleven year olds."

  "I'll go out and find Marlon, and call you back."

  "Call the department and the dispatcher will know where we are. Let's just hope that they just got lost, and haven't run into some dangerous individuals."

  "Okay, Officer. I'll have Marlon call back soon."

  Agnes asked, "Something is wrong? What has happened?"

  "I think Helga's sweetheart, Ulrich, is in trouble. We've got to radio Marlon and Bernard."

  * * *

  Marlon didn't even notice the cold. The burners inside the envelope were keeping a lot of heat close, and it was almost uncomfortably hot when he pulled the burner controls.

  Bernard was still clinging to the back of Marlon's seat, and had not quite gotten his eyes open. Helga was reveling in the experience. When she saw Marlon looking, she laughed.

  "Oh, Herr Pridmore, this is glorious! This is how I think that angels fly to the heavens."

  "Yeah, Helga. I think you got that just about right. Just like an angel." His musings were cut short by a static burst on the radio.

  "Marlon, do you read me?"

  "You're four by four. Are we late for church or something?"

  "Now you quit your teasing and listen to me for a minute. The police department just called. Helga's friend Ulrich is missing. He went out with two eleven-year-old boy scouts yesterday, and they haven't come back. They're putting together a search and rescue, and you need to get back down here and help."

  "Don't you think that it would help if the search and rescue team had an eye in the sky? This is the perfect rescue machine."

  There was silence from the radio. Marlon knew from long experience that Reva was thinking about what he had said before answering.

  "Maybe you're right. I'll find out where they think the boys might be."

  * * *

  Things were a little more cheerful in the daylight. Ulrich dug out the oatmeal cookies and they divided them for breakfast. Fritz didn't look good. He couldn't speak much, and his leg bent at an odd angle. Ulrich had not climbed down into the hole because the sides were narrow and unstable. Ulrich was afraid crumbling debris would fall on the boy. They could see that Fritz was pale and sweating, though. It was high time to find a way to get him home.

  "J.D., you stay here and keep this fire going. Maybe someone will see the smoke and come to help. I will go back to the top of the hill. That reminds me of something." He had finally remembered what had been bothering him. It was from his army training. They told him that three of anything meant emergency, like three gunshots. Or three smoky fires.

  At the top of the cliff, he carefully cleared and piled three bonfires. It would not be possible for him to carry Fritz home in his condition. They needed to be found.

  Soon, three smoky fires were burning in the open glade. Ulrich went back to the sinkhole. "J.D., look there. Do you see those fires?"

  J.D. stood up, and looked at the cliff. "Yeah, I see them."

  "Okay. It is your job to take care of them. Don't let them go out, and don't let them get away from you. We don't want a brush fire, just a rescue signal. Keep putting wood on each one. This will help them find us, so they must keep burning and smoking. Can you do that?"

  J.D. brightened at being given such a responsibility. "I sure can, Herr Schwarz." He hurried off to watch the fires.

  Ulrich peered over the edge of the hole. Fritz still looked a little grey, and his eyes were not open. This wasn't good. "Fritz, can you hear me?"

  The boy groaned and mumbled, but didn't open his eyes. Ulrich got the canteen, tied a cord to it, and lowered it to Fritz. The boy roused a little and sipped from the canteen. He seemed to come more awake, and drank a couple of sips of the water. Ulrich settled down to wait.

  * * *

  Matt Prickett was just getting ready to assign grid squares to the twenty or thirty men in front of him when another officer stepped up and got his attention.

  "Matt, I just got word from the dispatcher that Marlon Pridmore is on his way over and should be here in a minute or two."

  "That was quick. Reva must have had a good idea where he was."

  The other officer hesitated, and scratched his head. "Yeah, Matt, but you ain't heard the rest of it. The dispatcher said that Reva said to tell you that he's coming over here in a blimp."

  "A what?"

  "Matt, all I can tell you is what the dispatcher said to me. She said that Reva said that Marlon is coming over here in a blimp.

  "I heard a rumor that he was working on a balloon. But I didn't believe it. We'll just have to see what he's got when he gets here."

  * * *

  With the engines running, it wasn't silent like a hot air balloon would be. Two motorcycle engines put out more noise than Marlon had thought they would. He watched the ground flow away underneath him. He didn't have radar, but he had a stopwatch and estimated they were doing about twenty-six knots. He was concentrating on where the boys might be and making contact with the search and rescue team. He hadn't even considered how the ground troops might react whe
n they caught sight of him. His attention was pulled away from his instruments when he heard shouts from the ground.

  Helga was practically standing up in her seat, waving like a maniac. Bernard wasn't. "Helga, sit down this instant, before you fall to your death," he said through clenched teeth.

  "Oh Poppi, I'll be all right." A blazing smile lit her dark features, and her hazel eyes gleamed with enjoyment.

  Down below, men and boys were running and pointing, and the babble of their voices wafted up to the airship in the eerie way they always do. Marlon spotted Matt Prickett standing in the bed of a pickup with his mouth open.