Skybreaker

  “Does the Saga have a landing rig?”

  “Dorje can rig one amidships, from the cargo bay doors!”

  I told this to Kate, and she nodded without looking back. I felt sick. An aerial hook-on landing was one of the trickiest maneuvers. It was one thing to do it at the Eiffel Tower in light winds, but up here the sky was powerful and unforgiving.

  “Can I help?” I shouted to her.

  “Just pedal!”

  And then we did not talk anymore, for we were making our approach. The Sagarmatha was before us, and Dorje had slowed her down and put her on our altitude and heading. We flapped toward the stern. I was about to tell Kate to watch out for the fins, but she beat me to it, veering nimbly around the tail. We skimmed beneath the Saga’s belly. Fifty feet ahead I could see a makeshift docking rig suspended from the open cargo bay doors. Kate throttled back; the propellers’ drone deepened. Time seemed to slow. We rocked crazily from side to side as Kate tried to line us up with the rig. A gust of wind shook us, and we were suddenly too low.

  “Pedal!” Kate bellowed.

  I gave it my all, and Hal and the others must have done the same, for the wings thrashed, and the ornithopter jumped. I watched the Saga’s landing rig and the ornithopter’s trapeze nearing each other and willed them to connect. They did.

  With a jerk the ornithopter was hooked on. Kate killed the clockwork engine, and the wings went limp; the propellers sputtered to a standstill.

  “Welcome aboard!” Dorje roared down at us through the bay doors, and he and Kami pulled lines and started to winch us up inside.

  I took off my mask, leaned forward, and pressed my frozen lips against Kate’s hood.

  “Couldn’t have done it better myself,” I said.

  She turned to me, beaming. “You couldn’t have done it at all,” she replied.

  “You’re right,” I said. “You’re absolutely right.”

  Dorje, Kami, Mrs. Ram, and Miss Simpkins were all on hand to help us off the ornithopter, for we were so cold and stiff we could not bend our legs to climb out.

  “Marjorie!” Kate cried, and threw her arms around her chaperone.

  “Goodness! Yes, there, there,” said Miss Simpkins, giving Kate little pats on the back, and trying to look impatient. But there was a smile hiding in the corners of her mouth.

  “We saw the Saga get hit,” Kate said, “and I worried you’d all gone down.”

  “Your chaperone,” Dorje said, “is a very accomplished seamstress, and fast too.”

  “You helped patch the gas cells?” I asked in amazement.

  “Oh, it was nothing,” she said. “They hauled me up into the rigging on a little swing and I just sewed up the holes. It was perfectly straightforward.”

  “It was a very close thing,” said Dorje.

  Kate looked at her chaperone, shaking her head. “Well done, Marjorie. You’re a hero.”

  There was no more talking, for Nadira and Hal both needed tending to, and Kate and I could scarcely stand. Miss Simpkins helped escort Kate to their stateroom. Mrs. Ram took charge of Nadira and led her off. Dorje was looking at Hal’s shoulder. I leaned on Kami, and he helped me back to my cabin. At the doorway I thanked him, but he had no intention of leaving. He seated me on the lower bunk and proceeded to strip off my sky suit. I protested, telling him I could undress myself, but he just ignored me, knowing as well as I did that I couldn’t.

  “You saved my life,” he said. “This is the least I can do.”

  My hands were stiff and curled, and I felt as bent and stooped as an old man. When I was down to my underwear I started shivering uncontrollably, and Kami told me to lie down. He pulled thick blankets over me. He examined my hands and face with a studied eye. I didn’t know what happened next, for moments after my head touched the pillow, I began falling asleep. I was vaguely aware that Kami Sherpa was tending to me and putting a bed warmer under the sheets beside me and applying ointments and bandages to my skin. But nothing could keep me awake, and my last feeling was of warmth and tremendous well-being.

  When I woke, I had no notion what time it was. The light beyond the porthole was dim; it might have been dusk or dawn. I just lay there, my mind windswept. I was alive. I was also ravenously hungry, and my throat felt dry as Skyberia.

  It was no easy thing to sit up and swing my legs over the bed, my bones and muscles were so sore. Getting dressed would be a challenge. Several of my fingers were bandaged, and my left foot too. I stood before the mirror. My face was badly burned by the cold and wind, my lips chapped, one of my eyes swollen half shut. There were dark bruises all over my chest and arms. I didn’t know if I was looking at a man or a boy, but it was me.

  It took fifteen minutes to get my clothes on and do up my zipper and buttons. The ship was silent as I limped my way to the lounge. I wondered if everyone else was still sleeping. I opened the door, and the delicious smell of fresh bread wafted over me. My mouth started to water. I didn’t expect to find anyone here, but the electric hearth was on and, sitting beside it, all by herself, was Kate.

  “Hello,” she said, “how are you feeling?”

  “Fantastic,” I said.

  “Me too. Mrs. Ram’s preparing breakfast. Are you starving?”

  “Thirsty too.”

  Beside her was a jug of water, and she poured a glass and handed it to me. For several seconds I was lost to the sheer pleasure of the water filling my mouth and sliding down my throat. At that moment I could not imagine a more satisfying experience. Kate took the glass and filled it up again for me.

  “Thank you. What time is it?” I asked her.

  “About seven in the morning. We slept eighteen hours, you know. I ran into Dorje. He took out Hal’s bullet and set his arm last night; and he said Nadira’s already much better.”

  “Good.”

  For a moment we didn’t say anything. Then I started laughing.

  “I can’t believe you flew off without me!”

  “That ornithopter had a mind of its own! I couldn’t stop it. I was trying to circle back for you, and then I just saw you throw yourself out the hatch.” She looked at me, shaking her head. “It was the most idiotic thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “What did you expect me to do? Go down with the ship?”

  “Only you would throw yourself into thin air.”

  “Well, I did have wings on.”

  “Sometimes I think you’ve always got wings on,” she said and gave me the nicest smile. “Of course, angels don’t usually molt. But it was very lucky you did. I only spotted you because of all those feathers in your wake.”

  “You were amazing,” I told her.

  “So were you, coming back to get me in the engineerium. That was quite ingenious, freeing the aerozoans. Of course, I might easily have been electrocuted.”

  “It wasn’t the greatest plan,” I admitted.

  “It did the trick, though.” She paused. “We saved each other. I like that.”

  I took a deep breath. The air seemed so rich now. “We’re much lower,” I said.

  Kate nodded. “Dorje said eight thousand feet. We’re headed back to Paris.”

  “I suppose I’ve made my fortune,” I said.

  “I should think Grunel’s blueprints will make you quite wealthy.”

  I grinned, wondering how much it would be. I imagined the house I could buy for my mother and sisters, the thick stacks of money I could lay aside for them in a bank. I thought of the future I would build for myself, high and magnificent as a skyscraper.

  “Will you even bother going back to the Academy?” Kate asked.

  “Yes,” I said at once, surprised by my own certainty. But I knew it was true. For most of my life, I had longed to attend the Airship Academy. It was one of the dreams that had kept me aloft, and I would not abandon it now. I’d been very lucky to get my chance, and if I did not complete my studies and master all their challenges, I would be a lesser person somehow.

  “I intend to graduate,” I told Kate.

>   She nodded. “Good. You’re a finisher. And after that, your options are endless, really. You’ll have an Academy diploma and be very wealthy to boot.”

  I looked at her carefully. “Am I better wealthy?”

  Before she could answer, Hal came into the room. His right arm was in a sling. His hair was mussed, and he seemed decidedly flustered.

  “Cruse, you’ve got the blueprints, yes?”

  “You put them in your rucksack, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but I can’t find my rucksack,” he said.

  “Didn’t we just leave them all aboard the ornithopter? After we landed?”

  “I was just there,” Hal said impatiently. “I checked all the cockpits and found everyone else’s rucksack but mine. You sure you didn’t take it to your cabin last night?”

  “No,” I said. “I didn’t.”

  “Nor I,” said Kate.

  Hal rubbed at his head. “If it’s that wretched gypsy girl—”

  “Hal,” said Kate severely, “you can’t honestly still think—”

  I let out a sudden gust of breath. “No,” I whispered.

  “What’s wrong?” Kate asked.

  Seconds ago I’d felt my life to be a gleaming, glorious thing. Now, all of a sudden, it seemed shriveled and joyless.

  “I know where your rucksack is, Hal,” I said.

  “Where?” he demanded.

  “At the bottom of the Antarctic Sea,” I told him.

  I had dined once with Vikram Szpirglas and his murderous pirates, in fear for my life and Kate’s the entire time, but the morning meal aboard the Sagarmatha was by far the more unpleasant. Nadira, Hal, Kate, and I sat around the table, touching our food with our forks, eating little. Hal had a bottle of whiskey open beside him. He did not offer it to anyone else. He filled his glass, emptied it, and refilled it.

  “When we reach Paris they’ll seize my ship,” he said. “What’s left of it.”

  “Hal, I’m sorry,” I said yet again.

  I could not remember ever feeling such shamefaced dismay. And it wasn’t just Hal I was sorry for; it was Nadira and myself too. Not a cent would we see from Grunel’s blueprints—nor would his beautiful aerial cities ever sail the skies. All our dreams had dissolved at the ocean’s icy bottom.

  The door opened, and Miss Simpkins bustled into the dining room.

  “I’m very sorry I’m late,” she said brightly, and took her seat. “I slept in, you see, quite unlike me, and had some trouble getting enough hot water from that wretched shower, so it was rather an ordeal to wash my hair properly.” She looked around the table. “What on earth’s the matter?”

  I closed my eyes and exhaled.

  “Ah, Miss Simpkins,” said Hal, pouring himself another whiskey. “You haven’t heard our little tale of woe, have you. Perhaps Matt Cruse can enlighten you.”

  I stared at him, amazed at his appetite for torture.

  “Very well,” Hal went on, “since Cruse can’t bear owning up to it. We were aboard the Hyperion, about to escape in an ornithopter. I threw my rucksack down to Cruse so he could get my explosives and blow apart the hangar doors. Inside that rucksack, Miss Simpkins, were the blueprints to Grunel’s machine.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Miss Simpkins, “Kate mentioned those last night. Worth a fortune, she said.”

  “Indeed,” replied Hal, looking balefully at me. “Except that Mr. Cruse here decided to leave my rucksack and all its contents on the hangar floor.”

  “No!” said Miss Simpkins, staring at me, aghast.

  I was almost too weary and despondent to reply, but I could not let Hal go unchallenged. “It was chaos,” I insisted. “The ship was sinking. Time was scarce. I was trying to get back on the ornithopter before it flapped off. And then there was the explosion. The rucksack was not uppermost in my mind! And, Hal, I didn’t hear you reminding me.”

  “That’s because I assumed you had it,” he countered. “I assumed you were a man and not a child. And that you’d remember our fortune was inside!”

  “It might be a mercy in disguise,” said Kate.

  “Might it now?” Hal asked. “Do tell.”

  “Trying to sell Grunel’s plans,” she said, “could have been very difficult. First of all, would anyone believe such a machine actually worked? Second, and most important, if the Aruba Consortium found out you had the blueprints, your lives might be in grave danger.”

  Hal said nothing for a moment. “I’d rather have the blueprints and take my chances.”

  “Me too,” said Nadira.

  I was glad to see she was looking so much better, and only hoped she did not loathe me forever for this terrible turn of events.

  “We’re alive,” Kate insisted. “We should be jolly grateful for that.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s brimming with jolliness right now,” I said. “And I can’t blame them. I’m really very sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing,” said Nadira irritably. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  I stared at her in amazement and gratitude. “Well, technically—”

  “Whose fault was it then?” Hal demanded.

  “Anyone would have forgotten the rucksack,” Nadira said.

  “Absolutely,” Kate agreed.

  Hal shook his head in disgust. Pouring himself another drink, he slopped whiskey outside his glass. “Let’s not add insult to injury,” he said, his words thick. “I’ve just been ruined by a boy’s stupidity. Let’s call it what it is!”

  “I’ve heard quite enough of this nonsense,” said Kate.

  “How is it nonsense?” Hal said, slapping the table. “He’s paupered me.”

  “I think it’s pathetic of you to blame Matt for this. He’s man enough to admit he forgot the rucksack and apologize, even when he needn’t. Nadira’s right. It’s no one’s fault.”

  “Why don’t you go off and pet your taxidermy, Miss de Vries,” said Hal.

  “I believe I will, thank you.” She stood to go.

  “You are drunk, Mr. Slater,” said Miss Simpkins, standing. “It is breakfast, and you are drunk. I think it unmanly—and completely beneath you.”

  She followed Kate out of the dining room. Hal stared sullenly at his glass.

  “The rich,” he muttered darkly. “Kate de Vries doesn’t have a clue what this means to us. She’s never taken a risk in her life.”

  “That’s not true,” I said indignantly. “She’s from a wealthy family, yes. But if she played by the rules, she’d be sitting in a parlor, doing needlework, waiting for someone rich to marry her. Her parents don’t seem to care much about her. She’s set herself against her family and all they expect, because she’s different and wants to study and travel and learn.”

  “A moving speech,” Hal said. “But if she fails, she has a very soft landing.”

  “She risked her life aboard the Hyperion like the rest of us,” I reminded him.

  “But what about the rest of us?” He jabbed a finger at Nadira. “What have you got to look forward to now? Work in a sweatshop? Life on the street?”

  “I’m not going to any sweatshop,” Nadira said with a regal sniff.

  “Ah, you have grand plans, do you?” Hal asked mockingly.

  I truly hoped she did.

  “I’ve got a few ideas,” she said.

  “Will you go home?” I asked her.

  “That would mean marriage, or utter disgrace.” She shook her head. “I think I can do better.”

  “I’m sure you can,” I said, but my smile faltered, for I knew her future was anything but certain, despite her many talents. I felt I’d betrayed her, blighted her prospects for happiness.

  “I’m a pretty good dancer,” she said.

  “You certainly are.” I almost blushed, remembering the mesmerizing dance she’d done for us in the lounge not so long ago.

  “I could get a job at the Moulin Rouge,” she said. “I hear they’re always looking for new faces.”

  “Not just new faces,” smirked Hal. “They l
ike to see a bit more than that.”

  The music hall was famous, and infamous too, for its raucous parties and flamboyant dancers. I did not like to think of Nadira there.

  “I’m not saying it’s perfect,” Nadira said, “but it’s better than performing on the street. I’ve heard belly dancers can make a lot of money at the Moulin Rouge. I can save my wages and figure out what I really want to do.”

  “It’s a good plan,” I said, hoping it was.

  “And if it’s not,” she said, “I’ll get a new one. I’m going to make a dent in this world.”

  “I think it’ll be more than a dent.” I grinned, feeling suddenly that she really would be all right. And I felt a twinge of regret too, for I knew we soon would be taking different paths.

  “You’ll go back to the Academy, I suppose,” Nadira said.

  “Yes.”

  Hal gave a dyspeptic grunt. “How inspiring. You’re destined to become a chauffeur to the rich.”

  “I don’t see it that way,” I said.

  “Ah, who am I to talk?” Hal replied morosely, taking another snort of his whiskey. “I’ll likely end up serving as second mate on someone else’s ship to pay off my debts.”

  “I can’t believe you’ll be down for long,” I told him. “You’ll have some great scheme and buy the Saga back. I once heard someone say that the man who is dealt bad luck, but makes good despite it, is the most noble of men.”

  “Pretty talk,” Hal scoffed.

  “It was you who said it,” I reminded him. “In Kate de Vries’s library. I remembered your exact words. Because I agreed with them.”

  “Make good,” he muttered. “How can I make good? With what?” Hal slammed the table. “I risked my life and my ship and everything I owned for this salvage. There was treasure within my grasp.” He looked at me, and his features were saggy and mean with drink. “But you came between us. Go back to your Academy, Cruse. You’ll not amount to much. You’ve not got the wits. The blueprints gone—and not even an ingot of the gold you promised!”

  “Oh, there was gold,” I said vehemently. I hadn’t meant to tell anyone, but I was finally fed up with his bullying accusations and insults.

  “What?” Hal said, squinting at me.