Ulrik Prepares

Schöneluft Log, 1900.07.01

Ulrik Manfred Adler, acting Captain

I have made all the preparations I can think of, and checked them over and over again. I told Chef his galley was off limits until we are safely out of China. As it is suspended beneath the dirigible it is more vulnerable to attack. If it is taken or set alight I must not hesitate to jettison it. He was already angry with me for making my own sandwiches, now he is furious. He sulks in the billiard room, preening his mustache and drinking brandy.

I allowed the boiler crew to take shifts flying the Schöneluft, so they are somewhat mollified. I wonder if they have seen combat before. They have been with the von Hedwigs longer than I. Certainly they prepare. They look serious, and have stopped sneering and waving their spanners at me, for now.

I tried to talk to the grandmothers, but they waved me away from their encampment. I stood on the ladder that passes their tents and announced how long before we reach Pekin, and asked them to secure their things in case of turbulence. Mrs. Wei gave me a sharp look, so I bowed and retreated. They are quiet; they mutter. I hope they will stay put. I hope they will not intervene if I must fight their countrymen.

I have assembled what weapons I can find and placed them where I hope they will be useful. For myself, I have no side arm. I have many notes and ideas. I have been tinkering with electricity, of all the ridiculous, far-fetched notions. I realize now I have been playing, building toys! Why must I be so damned clever that I don’t own a pistol?

I have a rifle for hunting and a shotgun for fowling, and I have cleaned and armed them. I have taken a sword that was mounted on the wall of the billiard room. I believe it belonged to Madame von Hedwig’s father. She never speaks of him. I sharpened the blade; it has seen combat. I wonder if he died in the war he carried it in.

This is ridiculous. I have never done anything to harm the Chinese. I am only here for a girl! I wish there were someone on board to speak to. Just to talk out what might happen, and what cannot possibly happen. No one here speaks my language. Despite the hum of preparation, I feel quite alone.