Chapter 2 They made their way out through the courtyard and around the side of the house. Solan was pleased to see his camels eating their way through a mound of sweet smelling hay although he was puzzled by the old man in the dirty white robe who was flitting about behind the animals. "Thank you for taking such care of my camels, effendi, but may I ask, what is that fellow doing?" "You're welcome, Solan," smiled Hamman. "And don't worry about him. He is there to collect the dung." Solan shrugged. "Cleanliness is next to godliness, they say." he said, thinking,"But there is a limit." Brother and sister burst out laughing. "No, my friend, cleanliness has nothing to do with it. I will explain all later." Hamman found he was beginning to like this simple man. He was amusing. And they had so few visitors. They carried on until they came to a large flat roofed building with very wide doors that took up most of the frontage. At the moment they were open. Inside the workshop the remains of the flying machine were laid out neatly on tables or on the floor. A bearded man in olive green robes was examining the propellor blades. "Solan, this is Jorach, our invaluable assistant." Jorach placed his palms together and bowed curtly to Solan, who returned the courtesy. Solan watched as Asheera went over to Jorach and started talking to him, pointing to various parts of the wreckage. "May I ask another impertinent question, lord?" said Solan, in a whisper. "You always say "our" rather than "my" when you talk of all this. Is this just a figure of speech or am I to assume the Lady Asheera is involved in some way. The cleaning of the machines, perhaps?" "Asheera, cleaning? I'm afraid those two words do not have any meaning here." grinned Hamman. "No, she is an excellent innovator. Many of the ideas you see here are hers. She works as many hours in here as I do." "I had feared as much," Solan said glumly. "This is not seemly, sir. It is not my place to say so but this is not women's work. They are intended to look after their men, tend livestock and bear children. In my village this would not be allowed." "Perhaps you should be telling her this, not me," said Hamman. "You have children, I believe?" "Two, lord." Hamman pointed to Solan's crotch. "Well, you won't be needing those anymore anyway. As for me, I intend to spread a little more seed before I'm done. Better you tell her." Solan blanched. "She is violent, also? Toward men?" Hamman nodded, a wicked smile on his face. "By all the gods." said Solan, shocked. The young woman obviously ran a very good household and had been unusually pleasant to him but she had too many faults to make anyone a good wife. Also, while not unattractive, she would need to put on quite a few pounds to get a husband of any taste. She was far too slender to keep a man warm at night. A diet of goats cheese and camels milk would do it. It had for his wife. Asheera joined them and Solan moved behind Hamman. "Seems like the blades can be hammered out, the balloon isn't damaged as far as I can see and the controls are a little bent but won't be a problem. Take a week or so for the repairs. The gas is another thing, though." Hamman nodded. "Solan, you were asking about the dung. Look here." He went over to a large metal container, as high as a man. " All our dung is placed in here where it gives off gas which is collected here," He pointed to a smaller drum attached to the larger by pipes, "and that is what we use to lift the flying machine. The trouble is it takes so long to collect enough. That's the really annoying thing about today's crash. All that gas wasted." "Ah," said Solan. "The goats." "Our main source," nodded Hamman. "Your camels will help the next flight." he added, smiling. "But what is it for, sir. It cannot carry goods. It's too small." "I was out flying for an hour today," said Hamman. "How long did it take to get back? Over four hours, Solan. It is speed, my friend. Imagine the uses. Think what your wife would say if you landed in the middle of your village and stepped out of a flying machine." "I know what she would say," thought Solan." Where are the bloody camels?" "And if you just made everything larger, then yes, it could be used to transport goods." Hamman was enthusing now. Not so Solan. "And then who would need camels?" he thought. "But we need to find a better source of propulsion," added Asheera. "One man could not pedal enough for a goods balloon. Or two, come to that." Hamman grabbed Solan by the arm and guided him to a table at the side of he room. It was covered in strange drawings. "We thought we had that problem solved with this." Hamman held up a drawing which meant nothing to Solan "See here, we put a boiler just behind the basket, heated by this small burner. The water would turn to steam and when enough pressure had built up it could drive a shaft which would turn the propeller. Unfortunately in our excitement we forgot gas and naked flames do not go well together. Poor Abdul." Asheera placed her hand consolingly on her brothers shoulder. "Poor Abdul." she repeated. "Sod Abdul," thought Solan,"serves him right for getting mixed up with these two." His attention strayed around the workshop and alighted on what appeared to be a boat. He made towards it. "Ah, yes, another invention of ours. What do you think?" "I think you have a boat and you are about fifty miles from the sea." said Solan. "Look closely," said Asheera." It's no ordinary boat." Now he saw the boat had two long narrow hulls quite close together with a single mast fitted to one of the cross beams. As if this wasn't unusual enough Solan noticed that the boat had wheels. Two at the prow mounted on a beam and one larger one at the rear, attached to a tiller. "It is for sailing across sand." explained Hamman proudly. "it is very fast in a good wind." "Pity you weren't in the boat today instead of the flyer," said Asheera."when you met the great wind." Hamman pulled a face at his sister. "I'm thinking of calling it "The Ship of the Desert"," he said. "I think that name may already have been taken, lord." murmured Solan. "Really!? Damn. Quite liked that name." Solan looked around the workshop. Strange contraptions littered the floor and benches. Models of other flying machines, some with sails at the side of the balloon, replacing the blades. A four wheeled cart with a large copper cylinder at the rear and no shafts for a horse. More paper plans were pinned to the walls, indecipherable to Solan. "And you made all these wonderful things yourself, sir?" "Myself and Asheera. I don't need to work and I'm certainly not cut out for shifting sand, if you see what I mean, but I would like to leave the world something useful before I die. So I keep on inventing. I think the flying machine is the most likely to succeed. Just needs more work." "And more Abdul's, no doubt" thought Solan. They left the workshop and Solan made for his camels. "It has been a most interesting day, lord, and I thank you both for your hospitality but I must be going now. I have to continue on to the market." he bowed to them both, hands clasped together. "Nonsense, it will be dark in a couple of hours. You must stay here the night." said Hamman. Solan bowed again. "Too kind, lord but I wish to make a few miles before dark and I am used to sleeping under the stars. I think I prefer it." Asheera smiled at him. In that case," she said, "I will make you a basket of food for your journey. The figs in your pocket will not sustain you long. Has my brother paid you for your time and your losses?" "Most generously, I assure you. I thank you both for your kindnesses" How the hell had she known about the figs? "And I thank you for the use of your camels, Solan." said Hamman."You can find your way back?" "Oh yes, effendi," smiled Solan, tapping his forehead. "The map is still there" And so Solan took his leave of the kind but slightly mad brother and sister. He would have many tales to tell in the village and he would be invited to many a fine dinner to tell them. Bacha swayed gently beneath him, contentedly full of good sweet hay, the other camels strung out in line behind. "I hope their ideas come to nothing" he thought, popping the last of the figs in his mouth. "I am sorry to think this because they are fine people to have treated a poor camel trader so well but it would be a sad day when carpets and fine pottery flew through the skies under a bag filled with goats farts." The sun was going down rapidly and the stars were coming out. "Yes," he thought. "a sad time if evenings such as this should end.