Chapter 7

Rebecca remained out of work for another several weeks. She haunted Phileas's home hoping to convince him to take a trip for a diversion, but her cousin seemed just as restless, but not interested in a jaunt.

He and Passepartout were caught up in some design changes on the Aurora's controls. Thus far, the changes were not satisfying either man. In frustration over their lack of progress, Phileas called Jules Verne to join them from Paris. Upon arrival, Jules saw right away the problem they needed to correct and dove into the project. With his fresh look at the matter, the men spent days together making drawings and fiddling about under the steering ball. That is until Jules came up with an idea that captured everyone's imagination.

It started with one of Verne's steering designs. It did not work for the Aurora, but it could have applied to an earlier drawing of a different flying machine. That vehicle wasn't a balloon. It looked like a one-man carriage with wings. He had pulled it out of a stack of old drawings to show Passepartout for his opinion. He explained the air machine, in detail, starting with the design elements that would allow it to glide in the air. He had originally thought the machine would sport a steam engine to create propulsion. Later, he considered using rocket fuel. After the incident with rockets and vampires, he gave that up as too volatile.

Passepartout said, "Flying machine not needing an engine; it could be a glider let go from air. Steering could be simple and… Yes, these could work together. And, if wings are long enough, carriage flying like albatross."

Phileas had been asked to look it over too. While he winced at the albatross comparison, he thought it might be useful. "This could be an excellent way for Rebecca to travel from the Aurora to points on the ground without the Aurora giving her coming and goings away. Never liked the parachute for that," he said. "Its fine for emergencies, but one would prefer more control over where one landed."

"You really think this would be controllable, Passepartout?"

"Steering simple and wings should work like this," he said as he picked up some paper and did a bit of folding. When he was done, he had a rough approximation of Jules's glider. The paper was folded, with a V-shaped trench in the middle with a narrow but long wingspan. He gave it a fling. Instead of flying straight, it tumbled end over end, straight down to the floor.

"Not good," he said, and gulped.

Jules and Phileas stood back with slightly green tints to their faces at the thought of the barrel rolls the glider had done on the way down.

"It needs the weight of a passenger, you think?" Jules said?

"And some ballast for stability," Passepartout said. He put a pencil inside the paper and clipped it in place with a length of it sticking out the back. "Like a kite's tail," he said before giving it a fling.

The glider again did not fly straight. Its tail caused the nose to pull up straight, which caused the paper glider to fall straight to the floor on its rear.

"You might try your bird example in that, Passepartout," Phileas said, getting over a second wince. "Make a longer neck in front, rather than a tail."

"Yes, yes," the Frenchmen said.

He repositioned the pencil. "Third time charmed?"

He tossed the paper glider, and this time, to everyone's relief, it flew. Not exactly straight and not too far, but it glided across the room for about five feet.

All three men smiled and gave a sigh of relief.

Freshly inspired, Jules spent hours and long nights on the idea. Finally, he had completed the steering mechanism, and the required wingspan for Passepartout to declare it doable. The three men took off to Shillingsworth Magna to build it.

Rebecca stayed in London. This had been the men's endeavor and didn't require her input.

They are like boys with a new plaything.

She smiled to herself and went about her day.

Without their project to distract her, Rebecca bobbed about aimlessly. She paid visits to relatives, haunted the offices until Chatsworth ordered her away. She tried to lose herself in sewing, but two designs later and no enthusiasm, she caught a train to the country to see how the men were coming along.

Rebecca didn't send a message about her arrival, so had to make her own way to the house. A maid directed them to the west barn, where the men spent most of their time.

She walked in. Passepartout happily hummed a naughty jaunt while piecing together what looked like a pair of wings. Phileas and Jules were elsewhere. A broad worktable held drawings, covering every inch with various versions of the carriage section.

"Welcome home, Miss Rebecca," he said when he saw her. "Master and Master Jules not here. They–differing." He said no more, going back to his work.

Rebecca did some asking about and found the division in the ranks. Jules was now working on an engine design. He had drawn it out and built a large lead acid storage battery on the design of a French physicist, Gaston Plante, with Passepartout's help. Jules intended to use that as a source of energy to power his engine, and he wanted to attach it to the glider.

Passepartout wasn't hopeful. "It too big, too heavy. Heaviness dropping glider like stone. Bird machine won't take off from running start, either. Too much weight, better to leave as glider, but Master Jules thinks it allowing driver more control."

Phileas was set against it. He had been hiding in there for the last few days, doing estate accounts so as not to argue with Jules.

"I was all for it when we were in London," he said, lounging in the study. "Verne expanded the original idea into something I don't believe is possible. As a glider, it could be of use to you and wouldn't be too difficult to build. Actually, I have given Passepartout leave to do just that. Verne is out to build a powered flying machine."

"Rebecca, have you any idea how many people are trying to do that these days? I hear of someone testing a design all the time and they get nothing out of it but broken bones. Jules's brilliance aside, I won't back any hair-brained ideas for a battery powered air machine."

Emphasizing his words, he pounded his pencil on the desk with every syllable. His face set in a mulish, cold-heartedly in Rebecca's mind, unmovable expression. Chin up, eyes frowning and mouth thin.

Jules would not be deterred by any nay saying. He continued to mull over ideas for days.

Observing it all, Rebecca's sympathies were with Jules. Miffed with Phileas for shutting the young man down so, she lent him an ear and asked Jules all about the machine and what he was planning. Jules had always garnered her cousin's respect and full support. More times than she could count, some small helpful gadget had been their salvation in a tight spot.

Thinking that, she asked him again to explain it to her more fully one evening. Jules was glad to do it and showed her drawings and talked of engine ideas for nearly an hour. It had almost made sense, or at least the possibilities did. She did not know how close he really was to making any of it a working fact, but it was intriguing.

Rebecca later asked Passepartout what he thought of it. She caught him in the barn as he was attaching the wings he had been making to the carriage.

"I thinking Master Jules is great genius," the valet said. "It could be a very useful thing, very fine thing; maybe even making Jules a very, very rich man. But master is right." Passepartout said that last part regretfully, turning his head down. "It far off, and being very expensive. When Baron and I building Aurora, we working years. We experiencing much unsuccessfulness before success."

"But you made it a reality," Rebecca said.

"True; but Baron very, very rich man with much backing. These things–they take too much time and money. Jules has no money, needing to go back to studies. He staying away from France too long. Papa angry when Jules going away. Jules telling me father cuts funding, making him stay put."

Rebecca had not known that. No wonder the boy is nearly starving.

She and Phileas had kept Jules near them. The League of Darkness had carried him off nearly every time their backs were turned. Sometimes it happened right under their nose. It was a full-time job keeping the young man safe. But now, Rebecca faced the fact he was not the independent entity they had been treating him. He had a family, one that had plans for him and may not know what danger he was in all this time over his visions. Every time they had interfered with those plans, Jules had paid for it.

"But if he made this electromagnetic engine real—"

Jules Verne came to Rebecca a week later with a request to be with him at a meeting. It was a business meeting with a possible backer for his engine research. He had discovered this businessman by accident when Phileas had taken him to his club for dinner before leaving London. The man brokered grants and loans for inventors and was very interested in what Jules was doing.

"Oh, that would be wonderful for you, Jules," Rebecca said. "But wouldn't it be better if Phileas went with you?"

Verne's face fell. "Fogg refuses to discuss it," he said. "He and Passepartout have even dropped the idea of the glider, as of yesterday. Fogg says it will be nothing but an interesting toy. I know this would work if I had the means to do it. I just need someone from here in England to vouch for me."

Rebecca had heard that Passepartout had stopped working on the glider. He had tested the original design out of the hayloft, expecting that it would glide about twenty to thirty feet out and then land on its wheels to a rolling stop. Instead, it had fallen like a rock. The wings had not been strong enough and had come apart within moments. Thankfully, Passepartout had only minor injuries. He had expected problems, so had strewn the flight path with a thick layer of straw.

Rebecca was flattered to be asked. Under the circumstances, she could not possibly deny him.

It may irritate Phileas if I helped Jules, but I don't conduct my life to please my cousin.

Verne's meeting with the financier took place in one of the best restaurants in London. Phileas had taken Rebecca there on her birthday once. They charged the earth for meals, but the food was without doubt the best.

The man they met at the door was a handsome, fine-looking gentleman, with thick dark hair, dark eyes, and a well-tanned, strong physic. He could not help but be appealing. And the sly smile he wore gave him a rakish expression. Rebecca had met plenty in her years and inwardly gave proper appreciation.

"Monsieur Verne, it's good to see you again. And who is your enchanting companion?" He said as he turned to Rebecca.

Rebecca kept the smirk off her mouth, hearing that–charming devil.

"Mr. Isaac Jordan, this is Miss Rebecca Fogg, a friend here in England. Rebecca, this is Isaac Jordan," Jules said.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Fogg," Mr. Jordan said. He took Rebecca's offered hand and lightly kissed it in greeting.

They were quickly shown to a table where the men conversed about the project Jules was proposing. Verne explained the matter well in careful language in between courses, pulling out drawings to illustrate his words.

Mr. Jordan seemed to have the background knowledge to understand the concepts of the battery and the design Jules showed him.

"This is all very new," he said. "The lead battery was just introduced three or four years ago. The idea of creating an engine powered by one is fantastic, to be sure. It would revolutionize transportation anew as steam power already has. I am very impressed, sir."

"What do you think of this, Miss Fogg?"

Taken aback by the request for her input on business and technology, Rebecca smiled. "I have always been impressed with what Verne comes up with. My cousin and I have watched him discard more ideas in a day than some would have in a lifetime. This one has caught him up. Jules has made many things he has designed into reality. This one, I believe, he can make real as well."

"That is high praise," he said. "Praise, I believe. Can you show me some of these other things you have designed? With that, I could better convince others to back you. I will, of course, be your major financier, if you agree to my contract, but spreading the risk and wealth is the wisest thing. I want to show some other men this to see if we can build you a good start."

"I can bring a few things for you on another day," Jules said. "Could you give me a little time to get it all together?"

"Of course," Mr. Jordan said.

Mr. Jordan reached into a pocket and took out a calling card. "Send me a note to this address when you are ready. I will be at your disposal."

Mr. Jordan pulled his watch from his pocket for a moment. "Now, I really have to go. I have another meeting in an hour. Thank you very much for the opportunity to speak again and for the gracious company of your friend."

Mr. Jordan took Verne's hand and Rebecca's, giving hers a parting kiss. "I do hope we did not bore you with all this business talk, Miss Fogg." His eyes were on hers as he said it, giving her a very direct and appreciative smile.

"Not at all, sir," Rebecca said, giving the man a shy, miss-ish smile. "I have always found Jules's work fascinating."

After the man was out of the restaurant, Rebecca said, "you seem to have impressed him, Jules, I didn't need to be here. You handled this meeting perfectly."

Jules thought she impressed him too, but did not voice the observation. It had been just as Phileas had wanted it to happen. The man had talked to Jules and kept up with the conversation, but had given most of his attention to Rebecca.

Jules thanked her for the compliment and ordered them more tea. Mr. Jordan had already paid for their meals. "Dessert, my treat?"

"Don't count your chickens before they are hatched," Rebecca said. "My treat, and we won't tell Phileas a thing yet. Wait until you get a copy of the contract."

Over the next few weeks, details were ironed out between Verne and Mr. Jordan.

Phileas relented and lent his hand, seeing to it the less business minded Verne was dealt with fairly. He had his own man of business look over the contract. A few points were negotiated and then agreed to and signed.

All the research and work were to be done in Paris. Jules would be given a living allowance and rent for a workshop and all the materials he needed. He had to keep detailed logs of his experiments and expenses, but it looked as if he would be well set up to devote himself to his work. Their friend left England at the end of two months to start the endeavor with great enthusiasm.