The Secrets of the Lazarus Club by Tony Pollard

Author:Tony Pollard
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141955209
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2009-07-16T04:00:00+00:00

22

Following our experience on the last excursion of the Lazarus Club, when a close encounter with a dead body had curtailed the proceedings, and also caused me grief with Tarlow, it was a wonder that such a thing was ever tried again. But here we were, standing on a hillside in the North Downs in Kent. The object of our attentions sat above us on the summit, its nose tipped to the earth and the fan splay of its tail turned up towards the sky. Stringfellow had at last decided to move from the safe environment of his mill and the indoor tests to try to release a large-scale model into the open air. Not only that, this craft was to carry a man, or a pilot, as he described the slightly built youth who had volunteered for the task. Listening to Stringfellow talk about what he hoped to achieve with his flying machines was one thing – nobody ever got hurt looking at a picture of a machine flying over India – but this was a different basket of birds entirely.

‘I notice Stringfellow’s not intending to go up in that thing himself,’ noted Hawes cheerily as he watched the inventor issuing instructions to the scrawny youth. ‘But if these things do work,’ he went on, ‘they will change the world for ever.’ He turned to Lord Catchpole, who was standing beside him. ‘Imagine, they could even drop bombs from them. It would change the way wars were fought at a stroke.’

‘You may have something there, Mr Hawes. Has the War Department sent you along to observe proceedings?’

Hawes let out a snort. ‘Good grief, no. There’s not a hope of that thing getting ten feet, at least not without killing the pilot in it.’

‘We shall soon see,’ said a dispassionate Catchpole as the pilot struggled into the machine. Stringfellow held up the lightweight, fabric-covered frame while the young man clambered beneath it and pushed his head and shoulders through an opening into which he was strapped.

‘My God, he’s wearing the damned thing,’ said Hawes.

With his legs and feet now appearing to be part of the machine, the pilot struggled in the breeze to keep the wings level while Stringfellow and an assistant manhandled the buffeting device and its occupant into a position just behind the edge of the ridge.

At a shout from Stringfellow the pilot began to run forward, with his attendants trotting alongside, continuing to support the wing tips. By the time he cleared the edge of the ridge the pilot’s feet were free of the ground and with the machine beginning to lift the handlers had no option but to let go of their charge. The pilot let out a yell – whether through exhilaration or fear it was impossible to say. The nose of the craft rose up, the tail clipping the ground before it too rose up into the air. With legs dangling the pilot was carried upwards. In the excitement Hawes took off his hat and waved it in salute.

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