Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8 THE NEXT DAY WEDNESDAY, MAY 5 All morning, Hugo and Marty kept their ears pricked up for whispers about the spy. They watched for Colonel Kohl. But the hours passed calmly with no sign of the Nazi.

After lunch, Mom took Gertie back to the cabin for a nap, and Mr. Singer announced that he had a surprise for Hugo and Dad — a tour of the zeppelin. Of course, Marty came along. They started in the front of the zeppelin, in the Hindenburg's control car. The airship's command center was just a quick walk from the passenger area, through a short tunnel and then up a few stairs. When Hugo walked in, he had no idea where to look first — at the five men in crisp blue uniforms, at the rows of spinning dials and gauges and levers and buttons, or at the dazzling view of the ocean stretched out as far as he could see. They shook hands with the Hindenburg's commander, Captain Pruss, a short man who looked more like a kindly science teacher than a famous zeppelin captain. The captain showed them a large map hanging on the wall. He traced the Hindenburg's route across the North Atlantic

with his finger, and showed them exactly where they were now. They were close to land, Hugo could see. In just a few hours, they'd reach Canada's coast. From there they'd turn south and fly along the beaches of New England, over New York City, and finally to the Hindenburg's American airfield, in Lakehurst, New Jersey.

Hugo realized that the voyage was nearly over. Tomorrow morning they'd be landing. He should have felt happy that they were almost back in New York. But part of him didn't want this journey to end. Maybe Marty was right, and there was something magical about the Hindenburg. It was almost as though the zeppelin had transported them to another universe, one where Gertie was well and Mom and Dad were happy. And what about Marty? Would he ever see her again? They said good-bye to Captain Pruss and the others and headed back into the passenger area. But the tour wasn't over. Now Mr. Singer led them down a hallway to a door that was guarded by a young member of the Hindenburg's crew. The man greeted Mr. Singer with a smile and stepped aside to let them through. "Passengers aren't allowed into this part of the airship on their own," Mr. Singer said. As they climbed up into the zeppelin's enormous main body, Hugo had the feeling he'd

been swallowed up by a giant animal, with bones and guts made out of bright metal. Thousands of metal beams and girders and wires jutted in every direction. And all around them were huge tan bags — the gas cells filled with hydrogen. They billowed softly, as if they were breathing. If the metal beams were the Hindenburg's bones, these bags of gas were its lungs. Mr. Singer led them along a narrow walkway that ran straight through the entire body of the airship. He pointed out a row of large tanks. They were filled with water, Mr. Singer explained. The water was used as ballast, extra weight to keep the ship on the ground. When the ship took off, thousands of gallons of water would splash out through the bottom. This made the ship lighter, so it would rise up. "Remind me not to stand under a zeppelin without an umbrella," Dad laughed. As they walked farther back, the roar of the engines got louder and louder. Up front in the

passenger area, they could barely hear the engines. But back here, the clattering roar hammered against Hugo's eardrums. And then there was a new sound, a strange growling noise that rose up above the engines. "What on earth is that?" Mr. Singer said, looking around with worried eyes. "Could that be one of the engines?" Hugo felt a stab of fear. "Father, is something wrong?" Marty asked worriedly. Mr. Singer stood very still. "I've never heard anything like this on a zeppelin. And it doesn't sound right at all." Mr. Singer turned and hurried over to a big wooden telephone that was mounted to the wall. He picked up the handle and pushed a button. "I must notify Captain Pruss immediately!"