Zimmer
came over to the stove smiling and rubbing his hands together before
extending them to the fire. “It's all set. We have three sleds and
we'll try my arctic transport devices as well. Charles, you will take
one sled, sharing with food and tents, because we need the rest for
cargo.”
“Apparently,
I'm supercargo,” Nigel grumbled, taking his turn at the stove. “You
get a nice passenger sled and I get to ride atop a disassembled
contraption.”
Zimmer
shrugged. “You can always ride the mechanized cargo transport with
me. However, given there is still a small chance of explosion, I
thought you'd prefer the safer method.” He looked at Edward. “Your
lordship will be testing a personalized arctic transport. It's based
on existing snow fliers and diesel powered, so it should be capable
of speeds up to thirty-five miles an hour, about twice as fast as the
sleds.” He looked around. “I propose a hot meal before we head
into the wastes.”
Charlie
had no quarrel with the idea but the food put before him was as
strange as any he'd faced in Egypt or Turkey. The salted herring with
onion gravy was nothing like the golden fried cod in London. Fresh
rye bread with real butter and peasoup rounded the meal out and puffy
pancake balls finished out the meal. Edward ate heartily, clearly
dreading another adventure spent on bully beef and machanochie.
They
were finishing the last of the pancakes when the head of the crew
came to report they had off-loaded everything and loaded the
dogsleds. The mushers were waiting.
“Splendid,”
Zimmer said. “You and the men help yourself to lunch. We'll be back
in a week or so.”
“We're
not taking them with us?” Charlie asked.
“We
shouldn't need them. The machinery is entirely designed to be
assembled and operated by two to three man crews. This will be a full
field test. The mushers will handle the transport, but the testing is
all on us.”
Zimmer
took them out to where three dogsleds with their teams of ten dogs
waited in harness. An odd looking machine, looking a bit like a
motorcycle on skiis with a large five-bladed propeller behind it,
stood with bulging saddlebags draped over the comfortable looking
seat. Beside it, a blocky thing on treads, with skiis instead of the
front wheels, looked ready to rumble its way across the ice all the
way to Canada.
“The
cargo transport, and the personal transport. You'll be testing the
gear in the saddlebags as well, your lordship. It should carry two
soldiers, their weapons and gear much quicker than most forms of ice
transport we have now. I based it on Alexander Graham Bell's airboat
design. Had old Napoleon used a few hundred of these, the Bolsheviks
would all be speaking French.”
Charlie
give a thin smile at the joke. He watched, shifting from foot to
foot, as Edward straddled the personal transport. He looked at the
dogsled waiting for him, packed with gear and a Charlie-sized gap in
the middle. The tarp meant to go over it tempted him. He could bundle
in, safe and warm, while Zimmer drove the heated truck and Edward
froze on the personal transport.
“Load
the sled,” he said. “I'll ride with Edward. It's a two-man
transport, after all. Let's test it properly.”
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