Journey to the Heart of Luna - Andy Frankham-Allen [56]
As K’chuk obeyed, and Professor Stone resumed shovelling coal into the chamber, Folkard turned to their prisoner. “Just what is your game here?” The man ignored him, merely glaring in response, his jaw firm and determined. Folkard narrowed his eyes. He did not much care for Russians as a rule, but if that man had been one of his own men Folkard knew he would immediately respect such resolve. “Professor,” he said sharply, spinning on his heels, “just how close to the gorge would you say we are?”
“Hard to ascertain. I was keeping a rather good mental map of our journey through the tunnels, but since we commandeered this Mole Drill, well, I am afraid shovelling coal has taken precedence.”
Folkard could not help but smile at that. Although he hardly imagined the professor taking up the calling of a locomotive fireman, he did seem to be fitting into the role quite snugly. Folkard supposed when you spent your entire life trying to impress others, a position with little expectations had to be rather refreshing. “What would be your best guess?”
“I suspect close. Those flyers transporting the coal must be going somewhere…”
“Yes, I suspect to an aether flyer that is berthed nearby. No doubt transporting the coal to Earth, making someone in Russia quite wealthy.”
Stone nodded. “That seems reasonable. Coupled with the presence of Doctors Grant and Tereshkov, we can safely assume we are in close proximity to the source of the glow, and thus the mouth of the gorge.” For a moment Folkard was silent, as he digested this information, until the professor interrupted his thoughts. “What are you thinking, Captain?”
“I was thinking about the small team I sent to investigate the bottom of the gorge.”
“The men in the cutter? Oh, I see. I do not suppose they would have fared well against an ironclad.”
“Succinctly put, Professor. Although that is not to say they were all killed.”
“Taken captive?”
Folkard nodded.
Professor Stone’s expression turned grim. It was a look that did not suit the usually open young man. He indicated their own captive. “Perhaps we can trade?”
It was an option Folkard had not considered. With reason. “Out of the question, Professor. Even if the Russians were willing to trade, I will not barter for a man’s life, be it one of mine or theirs. No, we shall proceed with my plan.”
“And just what is that plan, Captain?”
5.
THE PLAN seemed simple enough, but Nathanial was not so sure he cared for it. K’chuk had been helpful to them, trusted them, not to mention he had saved Captain Folkard’s life. It seemed a rum thing to do, to put K’chuk in the line of fire like this. Folkard had explained to K’chuk exactly what he wanted, and why, and K’chuk had agreed readily. Yet still the plan did not sit well with Nathanial. Nonetheless, the door of the Mole Drill was now open and they were committed to its success.
Nathanial stood back as far as he could, keeping to the shadows, but still not so far from the door that he could not see. Folkard stood on the ramp formed by the lowered door, safe for now in his disguise. They both watched as K’chuk shuffled over to the nearest detail of Selenites. For now none of the Russians seemed to notice, although Nathanial was not entirely sure how, after all K’chuk was taller than most of the Selenites, not to mention a different colour. Maybe the Russians had got so used to seeing them that now it was a case of an ant was an ant.
Slowly a kind of buzzing sound started to spread around; it was the same stridulous sound Nathanial had heard before he saw the first Selenite in the tunnel. It started quietly, barely noticeable, as K’chuk, now picking up coal from the area around the bore drill, began talking to his fellows. Already prepared for his arrival, the response was quick. One by one the drone slaves lowered their coal buckets, and those hefting coal into the buckets merely stopped, stood to their full heights and turned to face their Russian guards.
“Vernutsya k rabote!” yelled one Russian, a phrase