Seize the Reckless Wind. John Davis Gordon
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and bang their thick heads together.’
‘Malcolm, explain it to me, and I’ll say it for you.’
‘It’s all written down there! Self-explanatory! Clearly!’
‘Clear as mud. Even I can’t understand it, and I’m pretty smart about airships, now.’
‘Listen to Joe, darling,’ Anne called from the kitchen.
‘Will you’, Malcolm said, ‘tell that woman in there to shut up?’
‘Malcolm, start at the beginning.’
‘You tell him, Joe,’ Anne called. ‘I couldn’t understand that essay, and I’m pretty smart about airships too, now. Boy!’ – she rolled her eyes – ‘have I heard all about airships …’
One advantage of being boss of an airline, perhaps the only one, is that you can give your captains orders, even if you’re only the co-pilot. And, definitely, the only advantage of being a pilot at all, in Mahoney’s view, was that it gave you plenty of time to think. Being a pilot, in Mahoney’s view, was about the most stultifying job an intelligent man could have: flying is vast stretches of intense boredom punctuated only with moments of intense crisis. The more he learned about aeroplanes the more he considered them a dangerous business. As managing director, Mahoney insisted on doing take-offs, even though he hated take-offs, because he wanted his two hours and the nasty congestion of Europe over with, so he could go aft and work: as soon as his two hours were up he said, ‘O.K., Captain, I’m off,’ and he went to his folding table. He was reworking the screeds of brochures that Malcolm was writing to precondition the public for the launching of his company on the stock market. Mahoney thought he knew everything about airships now, but every time he went back to Malcolm there were new drawings and notes. Then one day he found Malcolm busily reworking designs for small, non-rigid airships, with Admiral Pike. That really worried him.
‘We have to have designs of several different ships available to show to potential buyers,’ Malcolm explained.
‘But these small blimps hardly carry any cargo, Malcolm.’
‘Two tons, plus seven people!’ Admiral Pike said. ‘It’s an ideal machine for naval surveillance. Patrolling fishing grounds, for example. Stays aloft thirty-six hours cruising at sixty miles an hour! No aeroplane or naval vessel can match that performance – and it’s much cheaper. I’m sure old Ocker Anderson will go for it.’
‘Who’s Ocker Anderson?’
‘Admiral Anderson, Australian Navy, chum of mine. Dinkum Aussie, rough as they come, but a good egg. Can’t sail ships, of course, without pranging them into each other, but he’s got a lot of clout with the government.’
Mahoney smiled despite himself. He had never met a real, live admiral. The old boy was as ramrod straight with a bristly beard, exactly as an admiral should be. ‘Ocker will go for it,’ the Admiral insisted, ‘save risking his precious ships at sea, old Ocker will love that. Those vast coastlines patrolled for him by airships? And the government, you know how jumpy they are about those yellow fellahs in Asia – if there’s one thing that makes an Aussie uptight more than suggesting that Donald Bradman wasn’t the world’s greatest cricketer, it’s those Japs and yeller fellahs. Little Johnny Johnson will go for it too.’
‘Is he another admiral?’
‘New Zealand Navy, nice little chap. I’ll buzz down there and bang some sense into them.’
Mahoney was very impressed by all these admirals but he was worried about Malcolm being sidetracked. ‘Those are wonderful contacts, but think this through …’
‘I know,’ Malcolm said, ‘I don’t like these blimps either, Mickey Mouse little things —’
‘Mickey Mouse? …’ the Admiral said indignantly.
‘– but we’ve got to get a name for ourselves and the navy wallahs are our most likely first customers. Then, we’ll be in good shape to tackle the big rigids.’
‘What about China?’ the Admiral said, ‘their vast coastline, and borders with Russia? It would be an ideal patrol vehicle for those fellahs.’
‘Do you know Admiral Wong too? Listen,’ Mahoney said worriedly, ‘no government will buy airships until they’ve actually seen one. Demonstrated. That means you’re going to have to build one. Then they might not buy! And we’re stuck with a white elephant. Stick with the big cargo rigids, Malcolm.’
‘Have you’, Admiral Pike said frostily to Mahoney, ‘got fifteen million pounds?’
Mahoney took a worried breath. ‘O.K. … I’m only a shareholder; it’s your company, not mine. But please don’t go off half-cocked. Let me rework your brochures. Redcoat will print them up.’
The Admiral slapped him on the back. ‘That’s it, young fellah! Good to have you aboard! And I’ll buzz Down Under to talk some sense into old Ocker and Johnny Johnson.’
‘Wait.’ Mahoney said. ‘Until our literature’s perfect and you’re properly briefed, Admiral.’
‘Right-oh, good thinking! Meanwhile, what can I do? I’ll go and see those RAF fellahs, shall I, and talk them into giving us those hangars at Cardington. I know old Air-Marshal Thompson, used to play rugger against him. Hopeless at rugger, he was, couldn’t catch a pig in a passage, but he knows a bit about aeroplanes, I suppose.’
‘Excellent,’ Malcolm said.
When the Admiral had gone Mahoney said: ‘Malcolm, be careful of him. Don’t get talked into building a blimp unless a government has actually ordered it.’
‘We may have to.’
Mahoney shook his head. ‘Malcolm, it’s time we started on the Onassis principle. Go to places like China and Brazil to talk them into giving us a contract to carry their cargo, then go back to the banks.’ He added soberly: ‘Redcoat will finance the trips, by buying some of your shares. Buy yourself a new suit too.’
‘The pot calling the kettle black!’ Malcolm said.
Except it was much easier for Onassis. Tankers existed. Onassis could contract with the Arabs to deliver their oil and, armed with the contracts, go to the banks to borrow money to buy the tanker to carry the oil to earn the money to repay the bank.
‘But there are no airships,’ the Chinese girl interpreted.
‘There soon will be!’ Malcolm said. ‘I’m going to build them! Tell them that.’
They were in a panelled office in the Bank of China. Outside were the jampacked streets of Hong Kong, the teeming harbour, hazy in the heat. Mahoney watched the three communist officials. He suspected they understood English. Before they could reply he interrupted: ‘Gentlemen, we are not necessarily trying to sell China an airship. Interpret that please, Miss Li.’ She did. ‘We’re selling the service of our airships to China.’
Miss Li interpreted. The three solemnly smiling Chinese nodded. One spoke. ‘There are no airships,’ Miss Li interpreted.
Mahoney soldiered on. ‘China needs airships because its the size of the whole of Europe, with inadequate droads, railways, ports, insufficent ships and aircraft. With one thousand million people. You could be exporting more than the whole of Europe!’
Malcolm interrupted: ‘Near Mongolia, you have huge deposits of coal and iron. But you can’t mine it, because it’s so mountainous and you have no roads! You can’t afford to mine it, my dear fellow!’
‘Wait, please,’ Miss Li said, ‘I cannot remember everything.’ She interpreted. One Chinese spoke and Miss Li said: ‘How do you know this?’