The Corseted Domme
was suspended over the wheat fields. The rigger-men tied more guy lines to secure her into position. By the time they'd finished the task it was turning dark and, given the airship was perfectly safe, the captain left investigation of the causes of the engines cutting out until the next morning.
They had landed on a huge estate in the Russian Steppes, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. There was no house or village in sight, just miles and miles of wheat, though it was hard to imagine nobody had noticed the plight of the giant airship as it made its enforced descent and landing.
In the morning, Captain Wyndham went to the engine room to discover the fault and what work might be needed, if indeed it was going to be possible to repair
The Corseted Domme
in situ. They were supplied with tools and spare parts, but there was a limit depending on the extent of the damage he found.
Meanwhile, Lady Sally was left with a leisurely playtime with her slaves whilst the airship was safely moored by the anchors and wires.
The engine room was eerily silent. Normally, this was the hub that drove the airship, powered the huge propeller blades, distributed the gas around the air bags and circulated the dimethyl aether that propelled the engine. It was a labyrinth of shiny copper pipes, pressure gauges and steam engines. It was usually a throbbing, steaming mass of activity, full of deafening noise: the hissing of steam, a constant thud of pistons, and the whirring of propeller blades. Captain Wyndham stood amidst this complex maze of pipes and machinery.
At the heart of the engine room were two giant cylindrical boilers. These were huge orbs of shining brass with gaskets at the top and two outlet valves at the front. Captain Wyndham ran his hand along the smooth, beautifully rounded surface of the brass. They were magnificent, two wonderfully rounded objects without a single blemish. He caressed the shiny brass. He gripped one of the valves between his fingers and tweaked it to see if it expressed any residue of steam or water.
He was trained and knew enough about the design of the engine to investigate the cause of the crash. His eyes were drawn to a pipe hanging loosely from one of the engines with drips of oil falling from it. He went over to take a closer look. He knelt down and dipped his finger into the pool of thick, slimy engine-oil which had accumulated on the floor.
He examined the pipe carrying the oil more closely. It powered the flow of aether to the engines and to cut off this supply would cause the airship to lose altitude dramatically. It was strange. He might have expected a split like this to occur at a joint where the metal had been welded or where there was a point of stress, but what he saw was a clean break. This was unusual, after all
The Corseted Domme
