The answer was Lee Renaud himself. After making the necessary arrangements for the care of his Great-uncle Gem, Lee had caught the first train north.
As they taxied across Adron, the busy rush of trucks and cars, the clang and clatter of this factory metropolis, and the loom of skyscrapers furnished a thrill for the visitor—but it was as nothing to the thrill of his first sight of a dirigible.
Captain Bartlot had wirelessed Renaud that an airship, the dirigible Nardak, was to be their mode of travel. But Renaud had not dreamed how immense this ship would be. Even before he saw the monster of the air, the unique building that housed it loomed before his eyes like some magic growth.
There it stood—a master structure in dun-colored steel, semi-paraboloid in shape, like a mastodonic egg cut in half lengthwise. A one-story structure eleven hundred feet long, and tall enough to take a twenty-two story skyscraper under its roof, with room to spare!
While their taxi was still some miles from the airport, its enormous bulk dominated its surroundings.
Men in impressive uniforms patrolling outside the building seemed like minute toys in comparison. Small wonder, when the doors behind them weighed six hundred tons each and stood two hundred feet high.
As the two got out of the taxi and came up the paved way, Bartlot motioned to a couple of officials. “Commander Millard, Chief Engineer Goode,” he called out, “here’s another of our staff, second in command at the radio—my friend Renaud.”
“Glad to meet you! Ah—a word with you, Captain?” and Millard, briefly acknowledging the introduction, went aside with Bartlot.
A heated argument ensued. Voices, lowered at first, rose now and then. “A mistake—too young, country bumpkin—risk to expedition.”
Lee had the uncomfortable feeling that he was the subject of discussion.