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gratified to discover that there was not even a trace of unsteadiness in
her voice as she told Clive what had happened.
'Malcolm's unconscious!' he repeated, cutting in before she could
make any reference to the lightning strike they'd received. 'What
happened?'
'He just slumped over the controls. I'm now in charge,' she
added and would dearly have loved to see the detestable man's
expression. 'I'm endeavouring to break through this front. Until I have
there's nothing we can do for Malcolm.'
Clive agreed at once. With the aircraft being tossed about by the
violent currents it was impossible either for him or the steward to
discard their harness and come forward.
Under Faun's expert hands the aircraft was gradually brought from
the turbulence into clear air, and at last Clive came forward,
accompanied by Tommy.
'Is he ... dead?' asked Tommy in an awed voice. Clive, whose hand
had slid to Malcolm's heart, announced that he was still breathing.
'We'll get the harness off and then take him to the -passenger cabin.
Tommy, move as quickly as you can; I'll do my best with my one
good arm.' Clive spoke with quiet authority and Faun realised he had
taken full command. She bit her lip, angry at the arrogance of "his
approach, yet at the same time she had to admit that this was certainly
not the time to begin arguing out the point that she was the captain of
the aircraft and, therefore, in full control. The lightning strike had
been severe and Faun began at once to make a complete handling
check in order to discover the extent of the damage to the aircraft. She
was soon breathing freely, the machine's performance being
satisfactory, much to her surprise.
Clive, although appearing to be giving his full attention to the
stricken pilot, did refer to the lightning strike, asking what damage
had been done to the machine.
'None that I can find. I've made the handling check and haven't come
across any major faults but I've no compass at this time.' She spoke
in grave and quiet tones, wondering if his opinion of women pilots
was undergoing any change as a result of what was happening, and
the efficient manner in which she was carrying out her duties as
captain of the aircraft. She cast him a sideways glance as he stood, at
Malcolm's back, attempting to make some contribution to the
loosening of the harness. Tommy was at the front, making good
progress. Clive caught Faun's glance and said,
'So the performance is satisfactory?' His tone of authority riled her;
she could have had some considerable difficulty with her temper had
the situation not been so serious.
'Yes, from what I can see.'
Clive's mouth curved sardonically.
'Being cautious, eh?' His eyes laughed. 'Not committing yourself
fully?'
'Would you commit yourself fully?' she challenged.
'Of course,' with egotistical confidence. 'I'd know for sure whether or
not damage had been sustained.'
Faun counted ten, and then breathed out slowly.
'Unfortunately we're not all as clever as you, Mr Tarrant.'
A silence followed and then, curtly and authoritatively,
'If the performance satisfies you then put the power on--'
'I know what to do, Mr Tarrant!' she retorted. 'If I didn't I should not
be sitting here, should I?'
'Nor would you be sitting there if I myself were able to pilot this
aircraft--' Clive stopped, interrupted by the pettish, complaining
voice of his girl-friend, who, having come to the door, was asking
what was going on.
'Can't you keep this thing steady?' she added, glaring at the back of
Faun's head. 'I've never had such a terrible flight!'
'The aircraft is steady,' snapped Faun. 'It might interest you to know
that you've been brought safely out of a region of violent turbulence.'
'Have you put the power on?' from Clive impatiently. 'It's time we
were climbing.'
'I'm just putting it on.' Her hand moved to the throttles and she pushed
them forward, glancing at the instrument panel as she did so. When
full power was made she set the aircraft into a climb and for several
seconds everything appeared to be proceeding smoothly. But
suddenly the aircraft swerved to the right as Number Two engine
flamed out. Faun, her heart giving a great lurch, riveted her eyes to
the instrument panel and watched all the instruments for Number
Two engine die down.
Clive spoke before she could, saying that Number Two engine was
lost.
'Lost!' cried Ingrid, what little colour she still had instantly draining
from her face. 'What--'
'Be quiet!' ordered Faun, aware that the 'fire attention getter' had
begun to flash, and that she must immediately take the necessary fire
drill for that engine. Clive was standing stock still now, and so was
Tommy. Faun displayed no fear, even though her heartbeats were like
sledgehammers in her chest. Outwardly she was calm, efficient,
acting with all the confidence and ability which Clive himself would
have shown in a similar emergency.
'I now suspect that the lightning strike ruptured the fuel line of
Number Two engine,' she said. The fault had not come to light during
the handling check; it was the increased pressure put on for the climb
that had weakened the pipe.
Clive was nodding in agreement.
'And fuel probably spilled on to the hot engine hence the fire--'
'Fire!' screamed Ingrid, ready to faint. 'Is the aircraft on fire?' Without
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