The next morning, he woke to a loud knock. Lights burst out from overhead fixtures and blinded him. A small horizontal panel slid down and then out flat. Clean clothes were thrust in, followed by a breakfast tray with a pot of steaming coffee.

He downed the first cup of hot liquid in three gulps and poured out more from the pot. Now able to focus, he glanced around. His new quarters were an improvement from the last, but still a prison. A sliding wall panel revealed an attached water closet. He cleaned up and tried on the clothes. They were a joke. The red striped pants sagged down to the floor, and a seaman’s shirt fell to his knees.

Even with the shirt tucked in, the sleeves flapped like wings. The pants were rolled up to his waist and held tight with a rope. Fastening his belt over it, he studied his reflection in the mirror. His mouth twisted with annoyance at the hazy image. Still no shoes. My dignity and style have been destroyed.

A shrill whistle echoed through his room. The lock clicked, and his cabin door swung open. Tattoo appeared and indicated for him to follow. At the lift, they descended to another floor and proceeded past darkened cells. Again, the only light came from his lantern. In the shadows, he heard scratches as if something or someone tried to get his attention. Tattoo growled and the noises ceased. At the end of the hall, they stepped through a door onto a metal platform. The vast area below them was maybe two stories high.

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His first impression, as Albert descended barefoot down the metal rungs, was of confusion. Devices hung from the ceiling; more were stacked against the walls. Machinery covered all the tables. Two men sat hunched over discussing a piece of equipment in their hands.

Stepping on to the floor, he cleared his throat. "Ahem."

They looked around. "Doctor Timmons, you made it." The men hurried over.

"I didn't have much choice in the matter." He touched the bump on his head. At their questioning look, he asked, "I take you were hired and not kidnapped?"

The two engineers nervously glanced up. Ignoring the question, one volunteered, "Oh yes, the pay is exceptional. But come over here and tell us what's wrong. We are so glad you are here. The device stalls and crashes. Take a look."

A giant mechanical bird set at a crooked angle on the worktable behind them.

Albert groaned. "I couldn't get this device to work. It flew a short distance until the wind pushed it into a tree.

“We know. We’ve also tried to compensate by attaching a man to steer it.” The shorter of the two scientists responded.

"I tried that too. That didn't work, either." He fingered the scar on his face.

"Our experiments were also disastrous. The device crashed twice in the sea, each time with a man attached. We thought for sure you would have an answer. Your mechanical devices are famous."

“This was my old design; I replaced the wings with a propeller on top. Still, the bird is a little cranky.”

“Oh, no one told us.”

Albert knew the captain had to be listening and shouted, “Propellers. Captain, would that work for you?”

A voice yelled through the vents. "Just get the dam thing flying!”