Chapter 41 - The Man of Warped Iron
Island X, October 2nd

Robur went with a dozen men when it was time to move Nyctalope and his companions from the Island to the Albatross. He was not going to have any mistakes or escape attempts. Although, he hoped that Degain's condition would be enough to prevent any such attempts. They were loyal to one another, he gave them that much. They might have betrayed France and the Mysterious Men, but never each other. He liked that- it made them predictable.

The four were locked in a single room, or basement rather, with adequate light and warmth but no windows. It was another risk he was not willing to take. He gave the order for the sturdy door to be unlocked. Half of the men were armed with guns, and so Robur sent them in first. There was a small exclamation of alarm from Coqui but otherwise, all was still. Robur went inside with the other half of his men.

He could see the four near one of the corners. Nyctalope and Rene Coqui raised their arms in the air, Jean was asleep and Champeau was rebandaging the wound on his head. He did not stop in his work for the gunmen. He kept carefully adding layer after layer. Until he was satisfied with it. He tied it off carefully and only then did he raise his hands.

"Will he wake soon?" Robur asked Champeau flatly, looking at Degains.
"I doubt it, and he should not walk yet," he answered.
Robur called for a stretcher. Two of the unarmed men left the room and went to retrieve one.
"Will you let my father continue to treat him when we arrive?" Champeau asked.
"That depends on your compliance on the journey there. Any escape attempts and I'll be inclined to say no."

Champeau turned to look at Nyctalope and Coqui, to be sure they understood and agreed.

Robur nodded. His unarmed men moved forward, binding Nyctalope and Coqui's hands tightly before marching them out. Nyctalope paused near the door, only to quietly ask, "Is there any news of Lupin?"
For a moment he didn't answer, he pondered keeping silence to spite them, but he was mature and there was nothing to raise Saint-Clairs spirits either way. "No."

Neither of them said anything else and Nyctalope kept his head down. He gave the impression of the fight being out of him, but that was not an illusion Robur was willing to believe. Once the two had a head start, the men lifted Degains onto the stretcher, with Champeau taking great care to protect his head.

"You never told me his wounds," Robur observed as Champeau's hands were now also tied in front of him.
"A bad head injury, at the back. I'm sure he cracked his skull. There doesn't seem to be any brain damage from what I've been able to tell, but he lost a lot of blood from it, and a bad wound in his back. His body is very badly bruised and scraped, but he's lucky he didn't break his spine. He'll need time to heal."

Robur nodded. He was surprised by the seriousness of his condition. "Take them away. They can supper once they're on board."

Champeau frowned in confusion but could only allow the men to guide him away, with Jean following soon after on the stretcher. Robur left the room. How had he gotten into this mess? He should never have allowed Nyctalope to join, but then, the Government never did give him much choice in matters.

Paris, France, 1892

"Are you sure about this, Mr Robur?" Tom Turner, Robur's first mate asked from the deck of the Albatross. "It's a big stage you'll be going on. Could be dangerous."
"I'm well aware, Turner It's a risk I'm confident to take. Stand by for my return and keep a close eye on Armand for me."
"Understood, Captain," he replied.

Robur used a rope ladder to lower himself down onto the back streets of Paris. Once his feet touched the ground, the ladder was pulled up and the Albatross gained altitude, hiding in the mist. The weather couldn't have been better for Robur. It was time for him to ruffle more feathers in another lighter than air aviation society. They were all the same fundamentally: wrong.

But his suspicions had been confirmed in America some time ago that people could take great offence to learn that everything they were working for was going to be useless. They wouldn't accept that others, that he, was right and they simply were not. Heavier-than-air aircraft was superior to lighter-than-air. He enjoyed walking into crowds of people and correcting their ill-informed opinions.

And that was why he was stood at the doors of the building leading to a conference between over a hundred lighter-than-air engineers. How could he resist announcing the fact he was the first in the world to unlock the mystery of flight?

He knocked loudly and waited. The door opened promptly, revealing a butler. Robur introduced himself and asked for an audience with the group. There was some reluctance, but Robur's assertive nature prompted him to open the door and allow him inside.

Robur waited at the door as the butler went forward to announce him. Robur discreetly touched his sleeves, making sure his two small guns were still inside each. He was prepared for any conflict.

"Show him in!" he heard the group shout in French and he grinned to himself, raised his head just that little bit higher and entered without waiting for the butler.

Only when he walked in he met with a dozen men, not the hundred or so he had been promised. He could see they were armed, but they did not utilise their weapons. Robur turned his head slightly when he heard the door shut and lock behind him.

"I'm glad to see you heard of our meeting, Monsieur Robur," one of the men said. Robur felt he was most likely to be the leader.
"I cannot help but feel this meeting is no longer about airships," he said.
"Sadly not, though you have nothing to prove in this building. You're a difficult man to get hold of, Monsieur."
"That is usually my intention," Robur answered, raising his chin.

The man smiled. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Horace LeBlanc. I work for the Government-"
Robur raised a hand to silence him. "Say no more. My ship and her designs are not for sale."
"We do not wish to buy," LeBlanc corrected him. "Please, follow me to a quieter room where we can speak in private."

With the doors locked behind him, what choice did he have? He followed him as he walked away with care, making sure the remaining men weren't up to anything. He was guided to an office where he was offered a seat. He declined.
"Don't waste my time."

LeBlanc inclined his head. "We know about your Island."
Robur paused for a moment, reading his face. That was no assumption, but a cold hard fact. He wasn't going to try and deny it. "And?"
"There are many members of parliament who would like to remove you from it."
"You would find doing such a thing to be very regrettable," he growled.
LeBlanc raised a hand to calm him. "However, in recent events, I do believe I have an option more agreeable to all of us."

Robur clenched his jaw. "And what might that be?"

"I believe you could be of great service to France. We have agents around the world who are trying to escape their relevant country safely with crucial information. Your Albatross could give them the safe passage they need."
"Then hail them down a horse and carriage. I'm no ferryman."
LeBlanc raised an eyebrow, "Even if it meant losing your Island stronghold? It's a simple request, Monsieur. I'll better the deal, you can have full amnesty, supplies and protection, all for saving the occasional agent on the field."

Robur thought for a while, he had a young son to think about. Armand loved his home, surely a simple enough job like this was worth keeping his son happy? Housed? Safe?
"And do I get the option to say no to a task?"
"Occasionally."

More quiet, more thoughts. Robur studied the man in front of him, looking for even the slightest sign of deceit. "I want paperwork to prove all of this. I'm not having you think you can take advantage of me."

LeBlanc nodded. "Very well, here's a fair idea. Go to Dahomey and bring us back a certain individual- you can drop off supplies while you're there- and when you return, you shall have your binding paperwork."
Robur nodded, but really what choice did he have? "Fine. Who is it you ask me to collect exactly?"

"His name is Arsène Lupin. We would very much like to hire him as an agent, although we have been informed that he is injured and does not have long to live. You're his only chance. Get him back to France, to a Doctor Champeau. I will give you the address and meet you there."
"I know the name of Arsène Lupin," Robur said.
"As I hoped you would. He's a world-famous thief. He goes by Romain Alphonse there so you may have to do some digging to find him. Bring him to us, alive, and we shall confirm our deal."

LeBlanc offered out a hand to shake.
"I do not expect to be double-crossed, Monsieur," Robur warned.
LeBlanc inclined his head. "I'm an honourable man, what I tell you is the truth with no hidden clauses."
Robur shook his hand strongly. Time could only tell.

Island X, October 2nd

With Nyctalope and his four companions locked aboard, Robur went straight to Armand's cabin. The room was small but warm and comfortable. Armand seemed to be asleep, curled up on his side with a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. There was a small click as he closed the door. Armand lifted up his head quickly to see who it was.

"It's just me, it's alright," Robur soothed.

Armand let his head drop back down on the pillow with a heavy sigh. He curled up a little more.

Robur came to sit down on the edge of the mattress beside him, with Armand facing him, although at the far side of the single bed. "Are you alright?" He reached across the mattress and put his hand on his forehead, feeling the gentle heat that hovered over him. He looked exhausted, with dark droopy eyes, but he was fighting it.

"I just… can't relax, if. if I go to sleep..." he mumbled.
"Nothing will happen," Robur promised him. "You're safe."
But those words didn't reassure him anywhere near as much as Robur wanted them to.

"Here." Robur took his coat and boots off and carefully moved further onto the bed, lying on top of the blankets. Armand inched closer and leaned into him, resting his head on his chest. Robur used his arm like a blanket, covering the top of Armand's back. He used his hand to stroke his hair, hoping he felt safer and less exposed. "Go to sleep, my boy. I'm right here."
"The… the nightmares will come back. I don't want to be in the room again..."
Robur sighed, he refused to let himself get angry. That wasn't what Armand needed. "Well if I'm here, perhaps they won't. Even if they do, I'll be here when you wake up."

The Robur heard the engines of the Albatross start up with their gentle purring noise and felt the ship rise into the air. Turner had his orders to start the ship on her journey so he was not concerned about that. They were on their way to get his boy some help.

Armand seemed willing to try sleeping. The noise helped put him at ease. He buried his face into his father's body, focusing on the feeling of Robur's chest rising and falling; his heartbeat. Robur kept stroking his hair, hushing him into rest. Slowly, Armand's body relaxed and went limp as he drifted off into sleep. Robur made no attempt to get up. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of his son's head. At that moment, nothing else mattered. He held him close and never wanted to leave.

Soon, Armand began to whimper in his sleep. Robur hushed him quietly, mumbling reassurances. He started stroking his hair again, doing all he could to comfort him. Armand got louder, murmuring for his father, twitching in his sleep. Robur wrapped his arm around him. "Shh, I'm here."

Slowly, Armand eased into a quiet sleep again. Robur eased out a breath of relief. He tried not to embrace his anger but this wasn't fair on Armand! Why was he suffering? Robur had only ever joined this damned group to protect his son, and look where it had gotten him! He was a child! He didn't deserve this, he'd had no part in this mess and yet he'd suffered most. Robur needed to do better, protect him. Everything else was ruined, The mission? Pointless. But he would not let his son go through this alone.

"I'm here, my dear boy. Shhh."