Ron Goulart - The Curse of the Obelisk

58 RON GOULART
CHAPTER 13
"I wonder," requested Belphoebe, "if you gentlemen might refrain from smoking those odorous
cigars."
The Great Lorenzo was sitting opposite her in the plush-lined coach. "Ah, but of course.
Forgive me for assaulting your delicate nostrils." He passed his plump hand in front of the
smoldering stogie and it vanished.
Harry, who was sharing a seat with the blonde young woman, got rid of his cigar by tossing it
out the open window of the borrowed coach that was carrying them through the afternoon to the
town of Lowen.
"One's nostrils do not have to be especially sensitive to be offended by such a vile stench."
"Suppose," said Harry, "you give us a few more details about your father."
"My father is a brilliant experimenter in the field of heavier-than-air flight," she said. "He is, as
well, a profligate and totally unbridled old reprobate."
Harry nodded, watching the woodlands they were rushing through. "How did Max Orchardson
come to kidnap him in the first place?"
"Initially my lamentable father made the acquaintance of Orchardson at some disreputable
soirée in some foul backwater of London," she replied. "Father, along with his multitude of other
faults and foibles, believes himself to be interested in things occult and supernatural. An interest
that is, as you know, shared by the awful Orchardson. He made the mistake of confiding the results
of his work with flying machines to that loathsome man. My father really has made incredible
strides in the designing and building of such mechanisms. He is far and away ahead of such men as
Professor S. P. Langley of your own country."
"These giant bats are really your father's aerodromes?"
"I am afraid they are, Mr. Challenge." She sighed, unbuttoning the lace-trimmed blouse she had
changed into before they'd commenced their journey. She reached inside. "If you will but peruse
these plans you will note all the modifications called for by Orchardson."
Accepting the three sheets of flimsy paper, Harry unfolded them and spread them out on his
knee. "How'd you come by these?"
"They are copies I made unbeknowst to my misguided father," she answered. "Originally, you
see, Orchardson pretended he was only interested in financing the building of more aerodromes."
She twisted the topmost button of her blouse. "My gullible, and not always sober, father willingly
moved into an estate of Orchardson's, a dreary pile in the wilds of Barsetshire. After a few scant
months it became all too evident the man had other things in mind."
The Great Lorenzo leaned, scanning the plans upside down. "The demonstration we had, my
dear, gave us the impression these mechanical creatures can be controlled."
She nodded. "That is another of my father's inventions," Belphoebe said. "By utilizing an
advanced electrical system, one I confess I do not fully understand, he has been able to make an
aerodrome do his bidding. Goaded by Orchardson, my detestable father developed a flying
machine that could be made to do any number of vile things."