Adele knew the handsome young industrialist craved congratulations for his tale of overcoming political missteps and miscalculations. However, his comment about the loss of American assistance, clearly referring to her refusal to marry the American Senator Clark, irked her, even though it was true. “When can we expect the first new ship to fly?”
Aden pursed his lips in disappointment at the lack of praise. “We have an air battleship and two sail frigates weeks away from a fitting-out cruise.”
“What about our ironclad program? Where are we on that?”
The tycoon nodded sadly. “Progress has been slow unfortunately. The former HMS Culloden, now rechristened HMS Constantine, has experienced performance difficulties. There is a full report in your hands, Majesty. I expect the issues to be resolved soon and for our first ironclad airship to be in theater by summer.”
Adele was warmed by the sound of her father's name on a new warship, but was undistracted from the delays. “The Americans have two of their steamnaughts in combat. Why are we behind?”
The jowly Admiral Romanski, chief of the Air Corps, began to speak, but Lord Aden interrupted smoothly, “The Americans use a different technology, as I'm sure you know, Majesty. Their aluminum-burst engines are simpler than our coal burners, but I hasten to add, far less powerful. Constantine will be nearly twice as fast as the Americans' Bolivar or Hamilton.”
“I'm surprised you're able to judge its capabilities with it shackled in the shipyard,” Adele said bluntly.
Aden chuckled and twisted his heavy gold signet ring. “Have no fear. Constantine is only the first. We are preparing to erect the frame of our second and third ironclads in my yards in Suez even as we speak. We may be slightly behind the Americans for now, but once we put our feet under us, our airships will be the finest in the world.”
Admiral Romanski said with an irritable glance at Lord Aden, “The aluminum-burst engines are marvels. I saw Hamilton in Havana last year. Its fuel requirements are less than our coal—”
Aden interrupted again. “I agree that the American ships are impressive, for simple technology. We have studied their feasibility for our purposes, but we are committed to our route, and there is no sense in debating fancies now. We certainly have more important issues in the near future.”
Adele tapped her fingernail on the table for silence. “I agree. Telegraphs. Gentlemen, where do we stand?”
Prime Minister Kemal cleared his throat and flipped pages. “Um. We have experienced difficulties with telegraph lines from both Marseilles to Valence, and to our forward posts in Grenoble or St. Etienne. Likewise there is no progress to be made from Trieste toward the Danube front. The vampires seem quite aware of the purpose of the apparatus, and have interrupted or destroyed numerous attempts to string wires. With great loss of life among our signal corps.” He scanned the report for further information, which annoyed Adele. She expected her people to have command of their material.
Kemal's pause gave the opportunity for a voice in the rear of the chamber to rise. “Telegraphs are fascinating, I agree, but I have another issue to address which I feel is significant to the public support for the war.”
Adele eyed the man—Murad Garang. He was the whisper-thin leader of the loyal opposition in Commons, a skillful politician from the southern Sudan. He had cobbled together a formidable political coalition during the late Lord Kelvin's premiership which had only grown stronger under the milquetoast Prime Minister Kemal. Garang was not a member of the official Privy Council; he was one of Adele's extended War Council. She valued hearing his contrary opinions, but he could grow tiresome when action was called for. His white linen suit shone against the dim interior of the chamber.
She said quietly, “I wasn't aware the public support for the war was in jeopardy, Mr. Garang.”
“It isn't, Your Majesty. Yet. However, I believe the people across the Empire want a clear statement of our war aims.”
“Which they haven't had?”
“With respect, no. We certainly understand the goal is to remove the vampires' control of the north, but beyond that…what?”
Admiral Romanski barked, “Let's accomplish that first, shall we?”
Garang glared at the admiral. “We are throwing enormous numbers of young men into Europe to die in the snow. We are spending vast amounts of money to do so. I don't believe it is unreasonable to know the ultimate goal. Liberation of the northern humans is the point, you say?” The man paused, then added, “I ask, why?”
The military professionals and many of the regime politicians broke into mocking dismissals, which were short of accusations of treason, but not by much.