George Mann - The Affinity Bridge

It only took Chapman a moment to realise what had happened, and he swept in on Newbury, taking full advantage of the other man's wretched condition. He struck the Crown investigator with a brutal backhand across the face, sending him sprawling to the floor, his cheek smarting from the impact.

Newbury coughed blood onto the floorboards in a sickly stream. Chapman laughed. He drove a booted foot hard into Newbury's stomach, taking the wind out of him and leaving him gasping in pain and shock. Newbury tried to roll away, to find a means to get himself upright again, but the passageway was too tight and his body protested. He simply couldn't muster the energy to move, no matter how much his mind screamed at his legs and arms to react. He was trapped in the narrow passage, with nowhere left to escape the other man's assault.

Chapman circled him, taking the opportunity to gloat. He stepped over Newbury's prone form, turning him over with his boot like some common animal found dead by the roadside. He spat at Newbury, and then set about pummelling him with a series of vicious kicks, punctuating his words with powerful outbursts of violence. "You insolent bastard! Did you really think that you'd be able to stop me? What you need to understand is that the sort of people who would benefit from the work Villiers and I were doing couldn't give a hoot about the loss of a few peasant lives, especially if it ends up making their own lives more comfortable. There'll be no public outcry. There'll be no noose. Her Majesty herself will probably give me a medal for my services to the Empire!"

Newbury groaned, but couldn't find enough of a pause in the beating to emit a response. He brought his knees up to his chest in an effort to protect himself from the constant rain of blows. His side felt warm with spilling blood.

"I suppose I'd better throw you-"

There was a dull thud, followed by a loud clanging sound, and the kicking ceased. Newbury peeled open his eyes to see Chapman crumple to the floor. He banged his head against the wall as he fell, landing in a pile beside Newbury on the floorboards. Newbury looked up through one bruised eyelid.

Veronica stood in the passageway, a large copper fire extinguisher clutched in her hands. She looked bedraggled, her dress torn and wet, her hair flung back messily over one shoulder. To Newbury, however, she looked like a vision of Heaven itself.

"Thank you." His voice was a wet, warbling croak. He coughed and vomited more blood onto the floor beside him.

"Don't thank me, Maurice. Just get up and help me fly this thing. If you hadn't realised, we're tumbling out of the sky like a dead weight. If we can't find a way to land the ship, all of this will have been in vain anyway." She dropped the fire extinguisher noisily to the floor. Newbury groaned and put his hand against the wall in an effort to raise himself up. His hand slipped, leaving a dark smear of blood across its pristine white surface.

"I'm going to need a little help getting up."

Veronica looked pained, but her resolve was steely. She bent low over Chapman's unconscious body and grasped hold of Newbury's hands. Placing her feet against the far wall, she heaved him up into a sitting position. From there he was able to use the doorframe as leverage to pull himself upright. He staggered to the controls, unsteady on his feet.

Veronica followed behind him. "Where do we start?"

"I have no idea." He slumped into the chair and grabbed hold of two levers that he hoped controlled the steering paddles on the underside of the vessel. He looked out through the viewing port.

The city was coming up fast to meet them. They were set into a dangerous spiral, blown from side to side by the sharp winds, and he wondered if he was already too late to make a difference. The best option he could see at this stage was to try to steer the vessel towards the dark smear of the Thames. At least that way they'd be able to ditch it in the water without turning the whole ship into a blazing inferno. At least he hoped that would be the case. He'd never even been on an airship before, let alone tried to land one in a river.

Driven on by the image of the burnt cadavers he had seen in the wreck of The Lady Armitage, Newbury tugged hard on the levers, throwing his weight behind them as he attempted to right the vessel from its dangerous collision course. The engines coughed with the strain and the dials on the dashboard were all flickering in the red. If the engines were to get too hot they would run the risk of explosion, which in turn would ignite the balloon of hydrogen above them. He glanced out of the viewing port to see the city screaming towards them. He knew the engines would be no good to them now anyway. He reached over and flicked the switch on his right, cutting the engines. Immediately, the whine from below them ceased.

Veronica rushed forward. "What are you doing?"

"Trust me." He stood, leaning as hard as he could on the steering levers. Through the viewing port he could see the nose of the vessel edging up against the harsh wind, but his ministrations were having little effect on the terrifying rate of their descent. He hoped beyond hope that the water would help to cushion the blow.

The airship dove into the Thames, spinning onto its side as it came down, first glancing off the surface like a skipping stone and then dipping down into the water, sending a vast wave ahead of itself as it slowed to a halt. The balloon bobbed on the surface of the river, whilst the gondola, not designed with any buoyancy in mind, quickly began to take on water, pulling slowly towards the bottom of the river.

Newbury, powering on through adrenaline alone, scrambled up from the controls, frantically searching to ensure Veronica was unhurt. He found her draped over the back of the pilot's chair, where she'd braced herself during the landing. He put a hand to her cheek, tenderly. "Come on. I hope you can swim?"

She nodded. "Help me with Chapman."

Newbury looked down at the industrialist, still unconscious, even with the stirrings of river water beginning to lap at his upturned face. He nodded. "If we must."

Groaning, he reached down and hooked an arm under Chapman's shoulder. Veronica did the same, and together they hauled him towards the exit. The passageway was taking on water more quickly than either of them could have imagined, and by the time they reached the gondola's main exit they found it was easier to swim, dragging Chapman along behind them. Thankfully, the door had buckled and sprung open during the landing, so it was a simple matter to navigate their way out of it one at a time, passing Chapman through between them. The river water was ice cold, and with the loss of blood Newbury was beginning to feel faint, his muscles starting to seize up. He kicked furiously, resolved that he wasn't going to fail Veronica now, not when they were so close to safety.

The wind and rain were still pounding when he eventually got free of the airship. Linking arms with Veronica to form a platform for Chapman, they made for the riverbank as quickly as they could. It was only a matter of minutes before they were pulling themselves up onto the slick mud of the bank, hauling Chapman up behind them. They laid the industrialist out on his back, and Veronica leaned over him to check that he was still breathing. Newbury collapsed back into the mud, the rain pounding his face. Stars were dancing before: his eyes, and in the distance, out in the river, he could see the outline of the airship, drifting with the current and blown about by the wind. He heard the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. He didn't bother to look round.

"My God, Newbury!" Bainbridge had little else to say. "Here, Miss Hobbes, take my coat." Newbury heard her accept the garment gratefully. He looked up. Bainbridge was standing over him, his face partly obscured by the drizzly veil of precipitation.