For half an hour the Goliath sped through the heavy night. Rain beat against its silvered sides and flashes of lightning cast their glare over the boiling clouds. If the big airship returned to Bellevue without mishap it would certainly have won its laurels on its maiden flight.
The weather was getting thicker and Captain Harkins ordered Andy and Serge into the observation cockpits on top of the big bag.
“Keep in constant touch with me,” he ordered. “If you see a break in the storm let me know and we’ll try and run through it.”
From their lonely posts atop the dirigible Andy and Serge, clad in oilskins, braced themselves against the heat of the rain and the rush of the wind. With headsets on their ears and transmitters slung across their chests, they kept in touch with the main control room. All around them was a sea of churning clouds, rolling thunder, bolts of glittering blue and through it all the steady beat of the powerful engines as they drove the Goliath on through the night.
They were at the seven thousand foot level and Captain Harkins warned them he was going to attempt to get above the storm. The nose shot skyward and they pushed their way up through the clouds. Eight, nine and ten thousand feet dropped away, but even at that level the storm raged. There was no escape. Flickers of static played along the runway atop the Goliath and Andy was grateful that the gas cells were filled with the non-explosive helium.
At ten thousand feet the Goliath was making the fight for its life. Grim-faced engineers watched over their engines while in the control room Captain Harkins and Andy’s father stood side by side as they guided the great airship through the storm. The army officers, grouped close behind, watched every move for their lives hung in the balance that fateful night. Would the storm rip the Goliath asunder and drop it, a broken, lifeless thing, like it had the Shenandoah? Would their fate be the same? Those questions were in the mind of every man.
The storm increased in violence and Andy, atop the dirigible, felt the frame trembling under the terrific blows from the wind. He looked about desperately for some break in the clouds that would let them through to safety. The Goliath was making a brave battle but it was only a question of how long it could stand such a battering.
Bert, down in the control room, was on the other end of the phone, and the news he gave Andy was none too encouraging. No. 5 engine had cut out. The crew reported a burned out bearing, which meant that the engine was disabled for the remainder of the trip. Ten minutes later No. 9 on the opposite side developed trouble and had to be shut down. They were cruising with 10 motors running, ample power for any average storm but this spring disturbance of the weather was anything but usual.
An occasional brilliant glare of lightning would reveal Serge at his observation post further back along the top and Andy wondered how the young Rubanian was faring. If they could only locate a break in the clouds. Andy’s eyes swept the darkness again but it was to no avail.
The Goliath heeled savagely and he clung to the edge of the cockpit. They were knifing off to the right. The speed of the motors had increased. Could the men in the control room have sighted a break or had Serge’s eyes been keener than his own?