Julius and the Watchmaker by Tim Hehir

ask me, Professor,’ said Mr Flynn.
    â€˜Anyway, Julius, there’s no time to lose; it is wound and ready to go. Sit yourselves down, strap yourselves in and I’ll release the stopper.’
    â€˜Well, hop in, young fella,’ said Mr Flynn, as he scooped Julius up and into a seat. He buckled him in and tossed the carpetbag on his lap. The professor strapped himself into the middle seat and, finally, Mr Flynn squeezed in and held the professor’s cane for him. The watch remained spinning above the professor’s hand and the blue glow grew to surround the flying machine.
    The professor leaned forward and reached under the seat with his other hand. He pulled on a lever and straightened up again as a brass arm rose up in front of them. At the top of the arm was a small barrel made of polished wood with many small levers and buttons arranged on it and a small brass plate with an insignia of two wings stretching out from a cog. There was a single dial at its centre.
    â€˜That’s the stopper,’ said the professor, pointing at a small, red-handled lever. He rubbed his hands together and then placed his right hand around a hand-grip in the brass arm just below the barrel. Carefully positioning the whole apparatus so that it fitted comfortably between his knees, the professor tried to suppress a chuckle.
    â€˜Are we ready, gentlemen? Chocks away!’ he said as he pulled on the red-handled lever.
    The assortment of gears and wheels behind their seats whirred into action. The whole contraption shook violently; the noise was deafening as the blades above their heads spun so fast that Julius could not see them anymore. He strained to look over his shoulder. The cogs and wheels behind him were spinning so fast that they too were a blur.
    â€˜Needs a little adjustment,’ said the professor, fiddling with the levers and buttons while keeping an eye on the several bemused Grackacks approaching.
    â€˜We’d better take off soon, Icarus,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘They can’t see us yet, but if we sit still for much longer they will.’
    â€˜Nearly there, Danny,’ replied the professor. ‘Hold onto your hats. We have lift off !’
    The professor pulled back on the brass arm and the whole apparatus lifted into the air. The Grackacks in the area rushed to what they thought was a malfunctioning gyroflyer lifting off of its own accord. Julius screamed and fought the urge to be sick as the gyroflyer lurched and bobbed about thirty feet above the ground.
    â€˜It’s all in the wrist,’ said the professor as he moved the arm to the left. The gyroflyer lurched and dived back towards the ground. The three passengers let out the cries of people facing imminent death, until the professor pulled back on the arm and the machine shot up towards the zettmalins and the steel cables securing them to the ground.
    â€˜Turn left. Left,’ shouted Julius.
    A steel cable loomed ahead of them. It would cut then in two in a moment.
    Julius covered his face with his hands and screamed.
    The professor laughed as the craft swerved to the left. ‘Ha, ha. I’m getting the hang of it now,’ he said, nearly tipping his passengers out of their seats.
    â€˜Don’t do that again, Professor,’ called out Mr Flynn, as they flew towards the river.
    Julius peeked out between his fingers. He felt a warm liquid on his upper legs and was thankful for the carpetbag covering his lap.
    â€˜Fear not, Danny, I have it now. It’s steady as she goes all the way to the vortex. We’ll chart a course up the river, I think,’ said the professor, as the gyroflyer lurched an erratic path away from the zettmalin cables.
    The river and the steel ships were far below and getting smaller. Julius gripped his seat tight. The wind seemed to be trying to prise him from the machine, and he did not completely trust the leather strap that was holding him in. He dared not move for fear of