Julius and the Watchmaker by Tim Hehir Page A

disturbing the delicate balance of the flying contraption.
    The sun was showing a narrow band of fiery red on the horizon, which, along with the stormy clouds, lit the Grackack city with an eerie amber hue. For miles ahead Julius saw closely huddled buildings. There did not seem to be any plan to the streets and there were no parks or trees. Large buildings of stone and steel rose out of the confusion of the smaller buildings like monsters ready to devour everything around them.
    As they flew closer to the vortex, the machine cannons below started firing at them. They could hear the projectiles whistling past.
    â€˜Let’s make this quick, Professor,’ shouted Mr Flynn above the din.
    â€˜Good idea,’ said the professor, drawing the gyro-flyer to a halt just below the whirlpool of cloud. ‘Danny, Julius, your assistance is required. Hold the control-arm to keep us in position while I prepare the watch.’
    Julius and Mr Flynn leaned in and gripped the control-arm. ‘That’s it, steady, steady. Don’t allow any movement. We must be as still as a rock in the desert if I am to make this work.’
    Julius felt like anything but a rock in the desert as he gripped the control-arm. For thousands of feet below there was nothing but air holding him up. All around was useless open sky. Above them was a maelstrom involving not one but two realms, and, to cap things off, the very creatures they were trying to help were intent on shooting them out of the sky. If you get out of this, Higgins, you’ll never complain about anything ever again as long as you live , thought Julius.
    The professor tapped the pocketwatch, which was still hovering above his hand. A tiny drawer opened from its side. The front of this drawer lowered and another drawer extended from that. Then the sides of this drawer opened out like a napkin being unfolded to reveal rows and rows of tiny buttons. The professor pressed various buttons with the tip of his forefinger. He then sat back in his seat and took a deep breath before tapping the watch again.
    The watch began to vibrate violently. ‘Hold tight, gentlemen,’ the professor said as a ray of orange light shot from the top of the timepiece. It went through the dome of blue light and into the centre of the maelstrom. ‘If my calculations are correct the optical oscillation of the orange light particles will cause a disruption in the dual vibration field and we will be back to two separate and happy realms before breakfast time.’
    â€˜Excellent,’ said Mr Flynn.
    â€˜What’s that dial for, Professor?’ said Julius, as he held tightly to the control-arm and studied the levers and buttons that were holding him in the air.
    â€˜That tells us how much time we have before we need to rewind the gyroflyer.’
    â€˜If the hand is near the left of the dial does that mean it is a lot of time or a little time?’
    The professor and Mr Flynn peered at the dial. ‘Good gracious. It mustn’t have been fully wound when we started. Well spotted, Julius. Usually you could count on a few hours in the air, depending on the model.’
    â€˜So how much time do we have before…?’
    â€˜Before the blades slow down?’ said Mr Flynn. ‘Not much more than ten minutes, I’d say, and then it’s a rapid descent into the river, young fella.’
    â€˜Not to worry, gentlemen,’ said the professor, looking worried. ‘We’ll have done our work here in a few minutes. If our friends below don’t shoot us out of the sky first, we will have enough time to make our escape.’
    Julius looked up at the clouds. The orange light beam seemed to be doing the trick. The clouds were slowing and settling into more normal, albeit amber, clouds once more.
    â€˜I think that should do it,’ said the professor, and he tapped the pocketwatch. The light faded and the drawers folded themselves up and slipped back into the