Seize the Reckless Wind. John Davis Gordon

hover, and off you go. When your iron or coal is ready, we come back, hover, load it, and take it away, direct to your factory. No roads needed, no trucks, no ships, no airports.’

      ‘But who will fly these airships?’ Miss Li interpreted.

      ‘We will! If China wanted to buy an airship we would provide the crew, and maintenance, for a fee. Or we would train your crews. Or you can contract with us to deliver your cargo in our airship – which will be much cheaper than any other means.’

      One Chinese said in English: ‘China has typhoons. Very dangerous.’

      Malcolm shook his head. Mahoney said: ‘Aeroplanes and ships have to avoid typhoons too. Typhoons move slowly. Airships would fly away from them, or around them. If necessary, the airship can stay up there for days to keep out of danger. Aeroplanes cannot do that.’

      ‘But where is your airship?’

      Mahoney groaned inwardly. ‘Now, if you look at page twelve of the brochure …’ It was an impressive, glossy booklet, in English and Chinese characters. ‘There I give actual tonnages of cargo China exported last year by air, and what it cost you.’

      He paused for Miss Li to translate.

      ‘How do you know these figures?’

      ‘From the Far East Economic Review. Now, on the opposite page, I show how much less it would have cost China if you had exported that cargo by my airship.’

      The Chinese studied the figures, spoke amongst themselves. Then looked at Mahoney inscrutably. He said, ‘And now, look at this.’ He produced a document. ‘Here is a Bill of Lading for cargo that Redcoat carried from Hong Kong to Europe only last month. You see what it cost for fifty tons. And whose cargo was it? China’s. Your government paid for it!’ He paused. ‘And here is another document. It shows how much less it would have cost you by airship.’

      They studied the documents.

      Mahoney took a breath. ‘Now, what we seek from China is a contract for us to fly her cargo at a guaranteed, attractive price for a specified period. Then I will build the airship to do the job.’ He held up another document. ‘Here is a specimen of that contract, Written in both English and Chinese.’

      The Chinese said: ‘But how can you do it without an airship yet?’ Mahoney groaned. The Chinese smiled: ‘We will consider everything.’ He added: ‘In Peking.’ Then: ‘Maybe it is better if you build your airships in China?’

      Mahoney was taken aback. In China? In a communist factory? The Chinese said, ‘Then we could see it.’

      Mahoney’s mind was racing. The ramifications were enormous. As if on cue all three stood up. ‘Thank you,’ the official said. ‘We will write. Ho choi, good luck.’

      Outside, the stone lions guarding the bank stood at revolutionary attention. Mahoney and Malcolm walked between them, then round the corner into Statue Square. Ahead was the mighty Hongkong & Shanghai Bank, the big black lions guarding its portals imperialistically recumbent.

      ‘What do you think, Malcolm?’

      ‘What is the sound of one hand clapping?’ Malcolm said.

       Maybe it wasn’t so easy for Onassis, either.

      In the British Natural History Museum you can find out everything about this plant. With their geological maps, books and atlases you can find out all the proven sites of precious minerals. In the Department of Mines of Canberra and in Ottawa, anybody can, on payment of a search-fee, and with patience, find out registered owners of the mining rights.

      ‘My doctor tol’ me I could only drink wine,’ Tank O’Sullivan mumbled through his big mouthful of curry. ‘So that’s all I drink.’

      ‘All day,’ his wife sighed.

      ‘Tol’ me to quit with the whisky,’ Tank explained reasonably to Mahoney and Malcolm, ‘so now I only drink wine.’

      ‘All day …’

      ‘Hey, what’s ’at?’ Tank jabbed with his fork at a passing waiter. ‘I wan’ some o’ that!’

      ‘That’s the sweet trolley, Tank,’ Malcolm said.

      ‘Waiter, c’mere!’ Tank shouted. His hand shot out and grabbed a chocolate eclair. He opened his mouth full of curry and chomped. (‘Tank, dear … ,’ his wife said.) ‘C’mere, waiter!’ Tank’s big hand grabbed a fruit salad, up-ended it over his curry. ‘An’ some more of this!’ He held up his wine tankard.