Scan McMullen - The Pharaoh's Airship

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The Pharaoh's Airship

by Sean McMullen

other rights are reserved. Thank you for honoring the copyright.

Published by Seattle Book Company, www.seattlebook.com.

* * *

When we arrived at the Amberley Air Force base, the wreckage of his machine had been collected in

one of the hangars, along with the remains of the F/A-18 Hornet fighter that had killed him. My

companion was Adele Taylor from the CIA, and one of her agents waited in the car outside.

A guard checked our passes at the hangar door then sent for Dr. Richards, technical adviser to the

inquest into Stephen's death. I picked him for an academic as he hurried over to greet us, a short, greying

man, a civilian who coped badly with the guards' deference to his authority. I toyed with a small, black

rock in my pocket. It had jagged edges, but the surface was mirror smooth where one corner had been

sliced away.

"Welcome, welcome," Richards said excitedly as we shook hands. "I'm so glad to see such important

people taking an interest in Stephen's work."

The government of the United States was taking Stephen's work a lot more seriously than he could

ever have guessed. Taylor was posing as a propulsion engineer, while I represented the services. In a

sense both identities were technically correct.

"You preliminary report did cause some interest," said Taylor noncommittally.

In fact, the report on his report had my seniors gasping for breath and reaching for their 'TOP

SECRET' stamps. I fingered the rock in my pocket again.

"I suppose the military potential of Stephen's craft is what interests you most," said Richards as we

entered the hangar and approached the piles of wreckage.

"What military potential?" snapped Taylor, alert and alarmed.

"Why, a submarine with a limited flight capacity could have quite a number of applications, I should

imagine. Surprise attack, sabotage, even nuclear weapons delivery."

That had been a bad moment. Richards still had no idea what Stephen Cole had done. Any suspicions

at all would have been in his report, but there had been nothing.

The Pharaoh had been shattered by its collision with the jet fighter. All that had been recovered from

the sea bed was the cabin, a tangle of wires and tubes, some small gas tanks, a cheap industrial robot

arm, and a heavy metal container. The cabin was a modified propane gas tank, and it had been partly

split open by the impact.

Richards had built a mock-up based on what had been recovered. It resembled nothing more than a

small submersible, the type that is used for prospecting on the sea bed. An access hatch and a window

had been cut in the main tank, and a frame for the robot arm welded on just below the window. The

whole assembly rested on two steel tubes that served as skids.

"Welding marks on the original cabin indicate that quite a lot more was attached," Richards explained.

"That would have been the propulsion units and fuel tanks, of course. Those are indicated by the red

circles. A cylindrical container is bolted on the left skid, and this was found to contain rocks in the original

vehicle."

"Just a simple little machine for prospecting on the sea bed, except that it could also fly," I observed.

"Yes, yes, but there are several design faults, too," he said with that pedantic obsession that one sees

in some engineers. "See here? The access hatch hinges inwards, and the seals compress in the wrong

direction: dangerous under water, you know."

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