Powell smiled as he approached the two airships. They were close enough now that he could see the damaged propeller stumps, the blades shot off by the girls.

“I’m out of bullets, Mr. Powell!” Abigail yelled.

“Me too!”

“No worries, girls. They’re stranded now.”

“Let’s fill ’em full of lead, Mr. Powell! Just find us some more ammo!”

“It won’t work, Abigail. Sad to say, but those ships are enhanced, just like this one.”

“Then how were the girls able to shoot off the propellers?” Helen said, a hint of wonder in her voice.

“Ah, well you see, propellers are spinning, and they’re thinner and the 9-50 bullet is big and heavy. So that combination . . . I don’t understand all the physics, mind you, but you can clearly see the results.”

“That’s our girls! They’re truly quite remarkable.”

“Yes. Yes, that is so. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to mark these two airships for the peelers.”

“Mark them, Mr. Powell?” O’Reilly’s deep voice rumbled through the cabin.

Powell stood and moved to the passenger compartment, making his way past O’Reilly and his wife at the steps.

“Yes. The Royal Air Warden asked all pilots to keep an eye out for any black airships and mark them if we could. Mind you, nobody’s seen many, much less gotten close enough to mark one, but there’s a first time for everything.”

And, I might get some reward money out of this, he thought.

He unlocked a cabinet to the right of the steps and pulled out a rifle with a thick barrel.

O’Reilly said, “What is that thing? Do you intend to shoot them down?”

From her turret, Allison said, “Is Mr. Powell shooting a different type of gun? Can I try it?”

“Me first!” Abigail said from her side.

“I already called it!”

“No fair!”

“Girls!” Olivia said, the strain evident in her voice. “Mr. Powell will be shooting his own gun!”

“Aye, this won’t take but a minute,” Powell said, hefting the weapon in one hand and opening the door to the cabin with the other.

Wind filled the interior as the door clunked open, just as the Steel Comet slowly passed the two stranded airships.

“That thing won’t explode will it?” O’Reilly said, moving to stand behind Powell’s shoulder.

“No, the canisters are filled with phosphorous paint. I’m just going to mark their position for the peelers.”

He broke the barrel with a slap and loaded a four-inch long cylinder. Then he closed the barrel and aimed at the nearest ship.

He fired the gun and its canister sailed through night, splattering against the side of the dirigible. It lit up with a splotch of glowing paint.

“I say! That’s rather brilliant.”

“The second one might be a tad trickier,” Powell said while reloading the paint gun.

He aimed high. The other airship floated along at a slightly elevated position above the first one.

He shot and the canister arced over the first airship, landing on the top and side of the second one. It too lit up in a phosphorous paint, although with more on top than the side.

Powell grunted.

“Might be hard to see from below. I’ll try again.”

He loaded a third paint cylinder when someone opened fire from the first airship. Bullets smattered against the side windows, and a couple made it through the open door.

Both men jumped back.

“I suppose that’ll have to do.”

“They’re shooting at us!” Olivia said, her voice filled with exasperation and astonishment. “The very idea!”

“Yes, dear. They are rather evil, sad to say.”

“Well don’t just stand there, Garrison! Do something about.”

“I’m trying to help Mr. Powell, dear. I—”

Another round of bullets pattering against the windows cut him off.

“Don’t worry, the Steel Comet is enhanced, too.” Powell said, pulling a rope attached to the door.

It slammed shut, blocking out the wind and noise as even more bullets sprayed against the side.

“Aye, I think we’re done here.”

Powell hurriedly put the gun back in the cabinet and relocked it. Then he made his way back to the bridge.

“Out! Out of my chair!”

“But Mr. Powell! I want to fly the Steel Comet!”

“Me too!”

“Both of you, get out! I thank you for the shooting the enemy ships, but you may not fly this one!”

“Get up, girls,” Beatrice said. “Let Mr. Powell resume his position. What have we said about boundaries?”

Both the girls pouted, and slowly stood up from the control seats, heads bowed in defiance. They crept out of the way as Powell struggled to make it his seat without bumping into either one of them.

Powell opened up the throttles again, speeding past the ships. He did not want to take any more gunfire than absolutely necessary.

Squinting into the nighttime gloom as the last rays from the setting sun rapidly faded, he could make out the gargantuan ship ahead.

“Right. They have bigger engines, but a lot more mass to push along. We should be evenly matched, I’ll wager.”

“Do we have any hope of slowing them down, or stranding them like the others?”

O’Reilly once again hovered above his shoulder.

“I’m afraid not, sir. For one thing, I really am out of ammunition up here. But they were slow in getting started. I’m going to try to close in and mark them with the paint. Then we’ll head to the Carlyle Aerodrome, and pray we’ve enough fuel to make it.”

He pulled the throttle out to the absolute maximum and steered his nose toward the massive airship in front of them. It blocked out everything else in the night.

Powell heard the front guns of both ships open on his rear, but they quickly faded in the distance. He was not too worried about bullets hitting them. The Steel Comet had taken shots in the past. And, they likely would not have the same opportunity to work on his propellers as he had given Allison and Abigail..

Slowly they gained on the big airship.

“What’s that, Mr. Powell?” Allison said, pointing. “Is something trailing from the back of the ship?”

He pulled up his binoculars and tried squinting through them, but it was truly too dark now to see much.

Muttering something about “the eyes of youth,” he flipped a toggle switch on the dash for the front lantern mounted below the Steel Comet’s nose.

“I hate to give away my position,” he said. “But they can see us at night anyway. We’re not painted black like they are.”

Light flooded the air between the two ships.

O’Reilly said, “I say! Is that a man?”

Sure enough, Powell saw a man holding on tight to a rope strung along behind the air ship, bouncing in the wind stream.

Powell steered closer and the man looked over his shoulder, squinting into the light.

“Great Scott! I know that man. It’s the otherworlder Bixby’s team pulled from Gretna Green.”

“Is that the sergeant everyone’s talking about?” O’Reilly said. “Are you sure?”

“I brought him back to Ethinium! It’s him, sir!”

“Oh! Can we meet him? He’s from another world!” Abigail said.

“Boundaries, girls. It’s impolite to introduce yourself to someone in mixed company.”

“He’s hanging from a rope off a black airship, Helen!”

“Abigail! Be nice to the nursemaids.”

“Yes, mother.”