Read Online The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) by Giles, Lori Othen - Free Book Online
Authors: Giles, Lori Othen
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‘ealth Sir, you understand...”
Phillips certainly could understand. He knew first hand how politics and prejudices could blind the officer corps to the quality of their own men. So despite the man being unashamedly French he felt a twinge of empathy with him. “Damned shame Mr. D'Arcey, my sympathies. Let us hope this crew will be a new and favorable fresh start for us all.”
The young man next in line of the officers was visibly nervous to Jerard’s practiced eye, but his voice was clear and his salute passable. “Wallace Sir, William H.; ship’s Pilot” The man said managing to look Phillips directly in the eye as he did so.
Listening to the burr in the man’s voice Phillips replied. “Good to meet you Mr. Wallace. What part of Scotland do you hail from Sir?”
“Lothian Sir, me family’s lived in Linlithgow for as long as we canna figure.”
“Is that anywhere near Mr. Starblower’s estate then Mr. Wallace?”
“No Sir that’s t’ tha west nearer t’ Glasgow.”
“I see, how did you come to fly an airship then Mr. Wallace?” Phillips was curious as to how such an apparently young man came to be in such a key position.
“Well Sir I be from a nautical-like family. Was raised up on me Da’s fish’n boat an learned t’ pilot ‘bout the time I was outta short pants. I done well in me studies and earned a scholarship to Edinburgh University.
I studied the theories of Aeronautics there Sir, top o’ me class. An only one o’ four students given access t’ the University’s research blimp. From there I was offered a job at Beardmore’s factory as assistant pilot. Mr. Starblower offered me a position shortly after he purchased the Discretion from them Sir.”
“Indeed? So Beardmore & Co. were not upset at losing a promising pilot then.”
“I think Mr. Starblower made the supply o’ a trained pilot part o’ his purchase order Sir.” Wallace admitted a little sheepishly. “But it’s been a good experience for me as I’ve seen a lot more o’ the world in these few months than ever I would ‘ave waiting me turn as test pilot.”
“Very Good Mr. Wallace. We’ll talk more later.” Jerard concluded with a nod to the energetic younger man. I like him, Jerard thought, although he was holding further opinion until he could see the youth at the helm.
Stepping along the line, this time Jerard spoke first. “How do you do Sir?” He offered as introduction.
“Very well Sir, thank you. I am Aneurin Jones, assistant navigator Sir” The man replied in a clear voice.
“Good to meet you Mr. Jones. Is Mr. Pruette a demanding taskmaster?” Jerard half teased. A part of him was curious to see how they both reacted to this, and he chanced a look back at Pruette.
“Firm but fair Sir, he
is
exacting, but there’s no place for careless in navigation Sir.” Obviously, Jones had opted to play it safe and by the book, his reply was prompt and as expressionless as possible.
“Very true Mr. Jones. Our journeys depend on your diligence after all. Carry on Sir.” Phillips concluded as he stepped up to the last in the front line of senior crew.
This man was obviously not of British descent, his skin was a clear olive tone and his clean shaven cheeks had the faintest shadow of beard. “Greeting Captain, I am Paulo Vinnetti, Chef and Provisioner. And this Sir, is my assistant Donald McPherson behind me.”
An Italian with a Scottsman for an assistant, Jerard idly wondered how
that
worked out in the kitchen. He could picture some of those arguments and in doing so failed to keep the faint smile from his face. “Greetings to you Mr. Vinnetti, you too Mr. McPherson.” Jerard returned easily. “Now your profession is one I have not had the pleasure of in my former career, the best we could manage was packed rations when out on patrol. Have you managed to come up with a menu that compensates for air sickness my good Sir?”
“Eh! Captain that is dependent on the individual too much, but I try,
Phillips certainly could understand. He knew first hand how politics and prejudices could blind the officer corps to the quality of their own men. So despite the man being unashamedly French he felt a twinge of empathy with him. “Damned shame Mr. D'Arcey, my sympathies. Let us hope this crew will be a new and favorable fresh start for us all.”
The young man next in line of the officers was visibly nervous to Jerard’s practiced eye, but his voice was clear and his salute passable. “Wallace Sir, William H.; ship’s Pilot” The man said managing to look Phillips directly in the eye as he did so.
Listening to the burr in the man’s voice Phillips replied. “Good to meet you Mr. Wallace. What part of Scotland do you hail from Sir?”
“Lothian Sir, me family’s lived in Linlithgow for as long as we canna figure.”
“Is that anywhere near Mr. Starblower’s estate then Mr. Wallace?”
“No Sir that’s t’ tha west nearer t’ Glasgow.”
“I see, how did you come to fly an airship then Mr. Wallace?” Phillips was curious as to how such an apparently young man came to be in such a key position.
“Well Sir I be from a nautical-like family. Was raised up on me Da’s fish’n boat an learned t’ pilot ‘bout the time I was outta short pants. I done well in me studies and earned a scholarship to Edinburgh University.
I studied the theories of Aeronautics there Sir, top o’ me class. An only one o’ four students given access t’ the University’s research blimp. From there I was offered a job at Beardmore’s factory as assistant pilot. Mr. Starblower offered me a position shortly after he purchased the Discretion from them Sir.”
“Indeed? So Beardmore & Co. were not upset at losing a promising pilot then.”
“I think Mr. Starblower made the supply o’ a trained pilot part o’ his purchase order Sir.” Wallace admitted a little sheepishly. “But it’s been a good experience for me as I’ve seen a lot more o’ the world in these few months than ever I would ‘ave waiting me turn as test pilot.”
“Very Good Mr. Wallace. We’ll talk more later.” Jerard concluded with a nod to the energetic younger man. I like him, Jerard thought, although he was holding further opinion until he could see the youth at the helm.
Stepping along the line, this time Jerard spoke first. “How do you do Sir?” He offered as introduction.
“Very well Sir, thank you. I am Aneurin Jones, assistant navigator Sir” The man replied in a clear voice.
“Good to meet you Mr. Jones. Is Mr. Pruette a demanding taskmaster?” Jerard half teased. A part of him was curious to see how they both reacted to this, and he chanced a look back at Pruette.
“Firm but fair Sir, he
is
exacting, but there’s no place for careless in navigation Sir.” Obviously, Jones had opted to play it safe and by the book, his reply was prompt and as expressionless as possible.
“Very true Mr. Jones. Our journeys depend on your diligence after all. Carry on Sir.” Phillips concluded as he stepped up to the last in the front line of senior crew.
This man was obviously not of British descent, his skin was a clear olive tone and his clean shaven cheeks had the faintest shadow of beard. “Greeting Captain, I am Paulo Vinnetti, Chef and Provisioner. And this Sir, is my assistant Donald McPherson behind me.”
An Italian with a Scottsman for an assistant, Jerard idly wondered how
that
worked out in the kitchen. He could picture some of those arguments and in doing so failed to keep the faint smile from his face. “Greetings to you Mr. Vinnetti, you too Mr. McPherson.” Jerard returned easily. “Now your profession is one I have not had the pleasure of in my former career, the best we could manage was packed rations when out on patrol. Have you managed to come up with a menu that compensates for air sickness my good Sir?”
“Eh! Captain that is dependent on the individual too much, but I try,
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