The Flying Stages of London were collected together in an irregular crescent on the southern side of the river.  They formed three groups of two each and retained the names of ancient suburban hills or villages.  They were named in order, Roehampton, Wimbledon Park, Streatham, Norwood, Blackheath, and Shooter’s Hill.  They were uniform structures rising high above the general roof surfaces.  Each was about four thousand yards long and a thousand broad, and constructed of the compound of aluminum and iron that had replaced iron in architecture.  Their higher tiers formed an openwork of girders through which lifts and staircases ascended.  The upper surface was a uniform expanse, with portions—­the starting carriers—­that could be raised and were then able to run on very slightly inclined rails to the end of the fabric.

Graham went to the flying stages by the public ways.  He was accompanied by Asano, his Japanese attendant.  Lincoln was called away by Ostrog, who was busy with his administrative concerns.  A strong guard of the Wind-Vane police awaited the Master outside the Wind-Vane offices, and they cleared a space for him on the upper moving platform.  His passage to the flying stages was unexpected, nevertheless a considerable crowd gathered and followed him to his destination.  As he went along, he could hear the people shouting his name, and saw numberless men and women and children in blue come swarming up the staircases in the central path, gesticulating and shouting.  He could not hear what they shouted.  He was struck again by the evident existence of a vulgar dialect among the poor of the city.  When at last he descended, his guards were immediately surrounded by a dense excited crowd.  Afterwards it occurred to him that some had attempted to reach him with petitions.  His guards cleared a passage for him with difficulty.

He found a monoplane in charge of an aeronaut awaiting him on the westward stage.  Seen close this mechanism was no longer small.  As it lay on its launching carrier upon the wide expanse of the flying stage, its aluminum body skeleton was as big as the hull of a twenty-ton yacht.  Its lateral supporting sails braced and stayed with metal nerves almost like the nerves of a bee’s wing, and made of some sort of glassy artificial membrane, cast their shadow over many hundreds of square yards.  The chairs for the engineer and his passenger hung free to swing by a complex tackle, within the protecting ribs of the frame and well abaft the middle.  The passenger’s chair was protected by a wind-guard and guarded about with metallic rods carrying air cushions.  It could, if desired, be completely closed in, but Graham was anxious for novel experiences, and desired that it should be left open.  The aeronaut sat behind a glass that sheltered his face.  The passenger could secure himself firmly in his seat, and this was almost unavoidable on landing, or he could move along by means of a little rail and rod to a locker at the stem of the machine, where his personal luggage, his wraps and restoratives were placed, and which also with the seats, served as a makeweight to the parts of the central engine that projected to the propeller at the stern.