Boom! Boom! Boom!

Cannons fired, followed by the beating of drums.

Harris, lying on a mat in the workroom, jerked awake. He sat up, grabbed the gun always in his reach, and stood.

Albert, sleeping on another mat, asked in a sleepy voice, “Are we under attack?”

The door lock clicked.

“Protect yourself,” Harris growled. He rushed forward and flattened his body against the wall.

A servant entered carrying baskets of food. He stared in shock at the gun aimed at his head.

“What’s going on? We heard cannon fire.” Albert approached the man with an apologetic smile and took the baskets.

Harris stayed in position waiting for the man’s answer. He opened the door and peeked outside. “Guards are still here. Also, not even daylight.”

“Yes. Start early. It announces today is special. Prepare the people for the celebration. No work.” He lifted the baskets from Albert’s hands and carried them to the table.

Even the smell of food did not entice him. Albert yawned and collapsed on his mat. Muttering, “Stayed up too late, I need more sleep” he rolled on his side.

With Harris’s help, he went over the mechanical dragon and flying machine, piece by piece. They finished a couple of hours ago. Both were groggy from lack of sleep.

Harris dropped onto his mat and lay face up, with hand clutching his gun. “We will eat later. “Wake us when Haruto comes.”

Albert tried to get comfortable but was aware the man stood near and watched him. He rolled over to stare at him. “You can go now.”

“Emperor Meiji said watch over you. I stay,” the man answered in broken English.

“Well stand somewhere else.”

The man bowed in acknowledgment and stepped back. “You need cover?”

“No,” was Albert’s frustrated reply.

Sleep eluded him. His mind went over every scenario possible, all of which ended in disaster. He tried different positions, but nothing was comfortable. Next to him, Harris softly breathed. Albert shook his head in disgust. The man sensed when to sleep and when not to. A soft sound in the room indicated the servant stepped close to him. Stiff in anticipation, his hand reached for a knife in his pocket.

A blanket was carefully laid over him, and the man retreated.

The aroma of coffee penetrated his senses. He squinted his eyes open enough to see Harris crouched beside him waving a steaming cup.

“Glad you got a couple of hours more rest. The servant was worried. Said you had trouble going to sleep.”

Albert stretched and sat up cross-legged on the mat. Taking the cup from Harris’s hand, he sipped the hot coffee. When finally able to focus, he noticed the man was clean shaven and changed clothes. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight. You have time to clean up, eat some breakfast, and get ready for the day.”

They discussed the night before what they would leave behind. Harris was content to abandon his weapons, but Albert could not accept leaving his devices and research. Harris reassured him the plans would be fastened on the flying platform and go with him. But only devices that could be stuffed in their pockets were to go with them.

“You never told me how we meet up.”

Harris glanced away as if trying to give an answer that satisfied Albert’s curiosity. He sighed in resignation, “Truth. I will disappear among the crowds in disguise. Work my way to the ship and watch your progress. Be ready to help if the platform crashes, or in case some idiot tries to shoot it down. The captain knows I will arrive last and can wait a few minutes for me. But when you land on the deck, he plans to cast off.”

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“You could be trapped here.”

“Then I will have an extended visit with my relatives in the mountains. Time for discussion is over. I’m ready. You go and prepare. The plans are already fastened on the platform as are the bags of confetti and ribbons. Haruto should be here soon. We are on the emperor’s time, so we must be ready to leave with little notice.”

Albert returned to discover Harris lowering Haruto on the back of the mechanical dragon. He was dressed in his theatrical costume as a Samurai, black coiled wig on his head, and face painted white with dark eye makeup. Though, instead of a wood sword, a real one was tied to his back.

“Impressive,” he called up to him.

“The public will recognize me. Good for business. Watch out!” He untied the rope and harness-vest and threw them down.

Workmen arrived and removed the wall. Outside, drums pounded.

“Come watch. It is impressive,” Harris waved him over.

Soldiers beat on the drums and marched in perfect rhythm. Performers followed in colorful clothing doing rolls and leaps. More followed holding floating streamers. Next came a massive array of troops, marching in cadence.

“We are next!” Haruto flipped switches and let out a loud whoop. The mechanical dragon snorted red steam and moved with a lumbering motion through the wall. As it exited, the tail slapped the wood frame and shook the building.

Albert and Harris rushed to the door and watched the dragon’s progress. At the sudden quietness outside, they feared the worst. But instead of a catastrophe, the townspeople stood silent with their mouths dropped open. The dragon slithered its way down the road past them, one metal step at a time. Haruto let out a burst of red steam and the more nervous watchers backed up with fear. It looked like a real flame. Not wanting to go unnoticed, he stood on the dragon’s back and took a bow. People on the roofs applauded and waved flags.

Men dressed as ancient warriors danced around in a pretend attack. A swish of the dragon’s tail sent them scurrying. They reformed and continued to dance, thrusting wood swords toward it. A second group of performers followed them pounding on more drums.

A servant approached Albert and bowed. In a memorized speech, he said. “You next, sir.”

They wheeled the flying platform outside on a cart. After lowering it to the ground, Albert hopped on and pulsed a spark to ignite the reaction. He strapped himself onto the seat and started pedaling. The blades overhead swirled. Adjusting the levers, the steam pressure built and pushed the already moving blades faster. Engulfed in a cloud of steam as the platform lifted, Albert continued pedaling to boost the propeller speed. The flying machine rose above the building’s roof. He turned levers and moved forward joining the parade.

His machine was not silent. People heard the motor chugging overhead. They glanced up and pointed. He waved and grabbed a handful of ribbons to throw out. The colorful pieces showered down on them. Soon the streets were covered in a rainbow of colors.

This was the first time he tested his machine outside. Flying above everything, Albert experienced a surge of joy. My idea worked! Sure, at home it flew for a short distance, but nothing like this. He spread his arms out in celebration and released more ribbons.

A clank from the steam engine brought him back to reality. Losing power, the platform started sinking. He pedaled faster while trying to diagnose the problem.

As the engine failed, he looked down for a place to land and discovered the emperor riding in a carriage below him. Surrounded by his royal guard, he sat stiff and regal, as his status dictated, never glancing at the cheering people.

Flipping switches, in one last frantic action, Albert used the pulser again to start the steam reaction. He felt the motor building up steam again and pedaled fast. Just when his legs were about to give out, the engine sputtered, connected again, and took over spinning the rotors.

The noise caught Emperor Meiji’s attention. He glanced up and waved.

Dumping out the last bag of ribbons, most of which landed on the emperor, Albert turned the flying machine in the direction Harris indicated. He had to pedal harder and use extra steam to get above the tall buildings lining the docks. Seeing the steamship to his right, he turned the rudder to fly toward it. When the crew spotted him, they stood on the deck and waved.

Only maybe a hundred yards away, the motor clanked again and quit. He pedaled hard; his leg muscles burned from the effort. When it looked like the flying machine would crash onto the ship’s side, a sudden gust of wind lifted him high enough to clear the railing. The machine landed hard on the deck. Wood supports cracked. The platform toppled on its side; the propellers came loose. Men dropped flat on the deck to avoid the knife-like blades swirling toward them. They sighed in relief as the spinning metal went high off the ship’s side, dipped down, and was swallowed by a wave.

Eager hands untied him from the broken seat. Albert stood on wobbly legs and looked around. He was surrounded by men eager to pound him on the back. With a grin, he raised his arms in a victory sign. And then for some reason, his legs gave way, and he collapsed.

“Step aside! Step aside!” The ship’s doctor shoved past the men. He took out a bottle of smelling salt and waved it under his nose.

Albert shoved his hand away. He said as crew members helped him stand, “I’m alright.”

The captain called from the bridge, “The last load of supplies is onboard. Remove the plank, and cast off the ropes.”

Albert pushed his way up the steps to the captain. “Harris, have you seen him.”

“No, but he said not to wait if the emperor’s troops charge us. Here they come and are too many for us to repel. Don’t want a confrontation. Those dock hands are taking too much time. Shove the plank off and cut the ropes. Get this ship underway!” the captain bellowed.

The steamship pulled away from the dock. Workers on land caught the plank before it fell into the water. Albert watched with concern as the coastline of Japan grew smaller and smaller.