And so they did. They watched the liner pass, leaning over the railing above the bank of windows and waving, though Cannon doubted the passengers below could see them. Later, they found half of a game of bridge and joined … Continue reading
“Did you two have a nice chat?” “Besides tha’ the conversation was pleasant, I found out how we migh’ go abou’ gettin’ an invitation tae the cap’n’s table,” Iseabail replied archly. Cannon sat up, suddenly interested. Iseabail continued. “He’ll aye … Continue reading
Opening the book, Cannon took a moment to reacquaint himself with an alphabet he knew by heart. Fred Jane’s men had cobbled together a deck plan of Red Banner. The passenger spaces matched the diagram in the official history. The … Continue reading
Cannon hardly noticed. He turned the page, and found what he was looking for. Or so he thought: on closer inspection, the detailed deck plan he’d just laid eyes on only showed the passenger spaces. It wasn’t a bust altogether, … Continue reading
Cannon made his way through the zep’s corridors to a large, wooden double door. It had less weight to it than Cannon expected: panels, then, and not solid wood, but the latter was a luxury zeppelin architects could rarely afford. … Continue reading
Bleary-eyed, Cannon reached for his pocket watch. He sat bolt upright on seeing that it read nine o’clock. Then he remembered, spinning the dial on its side until it read seven, then winding it for the day. Iseabail still slept … Continue reading
Dinner passed pleasantly. Stewards served black bread, borscht, potatoes, and fish, whisking away dishes and refilling glasses with speed and efficiency entirely out of keeping with Cannon’s expectations. Later, the stewards deposited a tea tray in the Russian style on … Continue reading
Cannon looked into the distance at the ostentatious red banner hanging at the forward end of the dining room, as though he were deep in remembrance. “When I was a mere boy,” he began, “before the war, I had occasion … Continue reading
Somewhere in the middle of the stream of passengers, Cannon and Iseabail entered the room on the balcony level. In two rows, one on each side of the door, stewards in gleaming white uniforms stood to define a passage to … Continue reading
Iseabail pulled the cabin door closed. “Three-time heavyweight champion, eh? I dinnae think ye can take him anymore.” Cannon paced, or tried to. The narrow confines of the cabin, along with the baggage still sitting on the deck—evidently, it was … Continue reading
