“One hundred twenty aeroknots, Miss de Vries.” I pointed at the odometer mounted on a nearby bulkhead. “And that tells us the distance we’ve traveled.”
“Almost four miles already!” Kate said. “That’s more than twenty thousand feet!”
Sir Hugh looked up at this, and I thought his brow seemed a bit shiny. He quickly looked back down at his papers.
In an airship such a swift ascent would have left us gasping on the floor. But here, in our pressurized, heated Starclimber, we noticed no changes at all. I looked at Kate, field glasses to her eyes, scanning the sky. I’d hardly seen her this past week, and I longed for her touch—even the brush of her fingertips against mine would be enough. But there was no chance of that here. With a sigh, she lowered her field glasses and moved to another window.
“I just don’t understand why I haven’t seen one by now.”
I knew she’d been hoping to sight a cloud cat, to prove to Sir Hugh they existed once and for all.
“Maybe it’s the wrong time of year, Miss de Vries,” I said. I’d become quite used to calling her Miss de Vries. “It was September when we saw them, remember?”
“You’re not still fretting over your flying cats, are you?” said Sir Hugh from his armchair.
Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry to disturb you, Sir Hugh. I thought you were napping.”
“Not napping, Miss de Vries, writing. I’m working on a scientific article refuting all this nonsense about mysterious life in our skies.”
“Surely you should wait awhile, Sir Hugh,” said Kate.
“I’ve seen all there is to see in the skies, believe me.”
“Maybe they’re frightened of the cable, or the ship,” I said, hoping to head off any angry words between them.
“When my grandfather first sighted them, they weren’t frightened of his balloon,” Kate replied. “Or the Aurora. They’re curious. They’d be drawn to us.”
“Who’s to say they haven’t cleared off?” I said. “There’s been an awful lot of activity around here over the last couple years. Machinery and noise and rockets.”
“I didn’t realize we’d be going so fast,” Kate said irritably. “I need more time. Can’t you ask the captain to slow down?”
“We’re bound for outer space, Miss de Vries,” I said firmly, practicing my own aloofness. “It was never Mr. Lunardi’s intent to linger down here.”
She looked at me as if she weren’t quite sure whether I was playacting. I felt pleased by her discomfort. Let her see what it’s like to feel bewildered and uncertain. Smiling to myself, I went to another window.
If I gazed straight down, I could just make out Ground Station—a series of gray rectangles amid the island’s startling green. The coastline was outlined by a beautiful turquoise. Farther away, the water became darker and darker blue until it was almost inky.
The Starclimber was approaching a bank of cumulus cloud, and I was looking forward to going through it. For a few moments the windows were enveloped in white mist, brilliant with the sun’s light above. Our ship gave a little shudder and then broke through into blue sky.
“Stop the ship!” Kate said suddenly.
“What’s wrong?” said Sir Hugh.
“I see one!” said Kate, staring through her field glasses. “Please stop the ship!”
“One what?” said Miss Karr.
“A cloud cat!”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“Yes, yes!”
I went to the ship’s phone and lifted it to my mouth. “Cruse here. Request we stop ship. Miss de Vries has made a sighting.”
“One moment, Matt,” came Tobias’s voice from the other end, and I could hear him conferring with Captain Walken. “It’ll take us a bit to make a full stop. Stand by.”
Through my feet and legs I felt the ship slow, and within thirty seconds we’d come to a complete stop. I checked the odometer: just a shade under six miles. Everyone was crowded around the windows now: Miss Karr and Sir Hugh; even Dr. Turgenev had limped up from his laboratory to see what was going on. Sir Hugh had his own pair of field glasses around his neck. He didn’t seem too steady on his feet, and I could tell he didn’t like looking out the window. He dabbed his forehead with his handkerchief and cleared his throat.
“Is that it?” said Miss Karr, pointing.
I spotted it too, a distant silhouette of wings against the cloud. “It’s coming closer! It’s huge!”
“It’s just like my grandfather described,” Kate said triumphantly. “He thought they were birds, but when he drew closer…Miss Karr, is your camera ready?”
“I’m always ready,” snapped Miss Karr, quickly positioning one of her cameras and peering through the viewfinder.
“It should pass right by us!” said Kate breathlessly. “Take as many pictures as you can! Sir Hugh, I think you’ll find this exceedingly interesting.”
An electric tingle worked its way down my back. I remembered that first incredible time I’d beheld one of these creatures, on board the Aurora. They seemed impossible, part bird, part panther, as dangerous as they were beautiful.
With my naked eye I could still see only its silhouette against the bright sky.
Miss Karr took one picture, then another.
“Wonderful,” said Sir Hugh, peering through his field glasses.
“You see it?” Kate said, delighted.
“Very clearly,” he said. “It’s a wonderful whopper swan.”
“What?” Kate seized her own binoculars and stared.
“Take a good look, my dear,” said Sir Hugh. “I think you’ll find your cloud cat has feathers, and a rather prominent bill.”
As Kate stared, all the rest of us strained to see the winged creature as it passed within fifty feet of us. I exhaled. It was indeed a very large swan.
“Unusual to see them so far out over the sea,” said Sir Hugh smugly, “but not unheard of. They’re high flyers too. However, twenty-nine thousand feet is certainly the highest altitude I’ve heard recorded. I shall write a note for the Royal Zoological Journal.”
“Sorry for the false alarm, everyone,” said Kate with admirable composure.
“You see, my dear,” Sir Hugh said, “it’s not enough just to see something once; one has to look again, and again, to be sure. That’s good science.”
Kate said nothing, her face rigid, her cheek so red you might have fried an egg on it. I felt a wrenching sympathy for her, but I couldn’t do anything to comfort her without seeming too familiar.
I went to the ship’s phone. “Cruse here. It was a whopper swan.”
I heard Tobias chuckle. “All right, thanks, Matt. Let us know if you see any budgies or woodpeckers.”
With scarcely a shudder the Starclimber resumed its silken ascent, accelerating into the sky. We all stayed at the windows, even Sir Hugh, staring out in amazement, for the view seemed to change by the second.
“You can see the curve of earth now!” said Miss Karr.
Sure enough, the blue horizon of the Pacificus was starting to slope gently away on either side.
I checked the odometer. “Seven miles!” I said. “No one’s ever been this high!”
“And no one’s ever seen a view like this,” murmured Miss Karr, taking several pictures.
Our speed was mind-boggling. Every thirty seconds we were another mile higher. Our island became smaller and smaller. The upper dome of the sky began to lose its color, the blue giving way to whiteness.
“Stars!” Kate said, pointing.
Beyond the gauzy veil of the morning sky I could just make out the pinpricks of stars. They became brighter with every breath I took. Then, before my eyes, the upper sky began to dissolve into darkness. It was as though we’d stolen into night and left earth still in daylight. Below, the bright blue curve of the ocean; and above, the stars, beckoning us toward outer space.
THE END OF THE SKY
Sir Hugh was in high spirits during lunch, droning on about famous zoological frauds. Ka
te spooned soup into her mouth, her eyes on the table. I could tell she was still humiliated by her mistake this morning. There was nothing I could do to comfort her properly, so I kept quietly offering her food.
“Some more bread, Miss de Vries?”
“No, thank you, Mr. Cruse.”
“Perhaps some salt for your soup?”
“Thank you, I’m fine.”
“Some pepper?”
“No, Mr. Cruse, not at this time, but thank you for asking.”
“My pleasure. Can I offer anyone else some pepper?”
Captain Walken and Tobias were still on duty on the bridge. My shift would start after lunch. I wasn’t looking forward to being paired with Shepherd, but I’d have to get used to it.
“…the poor fool spent five years insisting that dragons lived on Borneo,” Sir Hugh was saying.
Miss Karr was listening to the zoologist, but her dark eyes smoldered with dislike; Shepherd actually looked interested. Haiku had jumped up into the chandelier above the table, and would occasionally shake a tiny fist at Sir Hugh as he yammered on.
“The locals called it the Komodo dragon, you see, and had all sorts of outlandish stories about how it breathed fire. Now, this fellow made some sightings and was certain he had a major discovery on his hands. Do you know what his dragon turned out to be, Mr. Shepherd? Nothing more than a very large lizard, a rather slothful thing too. That’s why—and I stress this with my students every year—one must look very long and hard at nature, or it can trick you.”
It was obvious this story was meant for Kate’s benefit. She said nothing, but I couldn’t stand his arrogance any longer.
“You know, Sir Hugh,” I said, “Miss de Vries isn’t the only one who’s seen the cloud cats. I’ve seen them too. They’re very real.”
“I have no doubt you saw something,” the zoologist said dismissively. “But I’d wager it wasn’t what you thought, dear boy.”
Dear boy. There was nothing I hated more than being talked down to. I wanted to hurl a bun at his fat head but held back. I caught Shepherd looking at me with a hint of amusement in his cool eyes, as if wondering how I’d react.
“I know what I saw, Sir Hugh,” I said, as calmly as I could. Miss Karr, I noticed, had started taking notes in her book. I hoped she was writing down things like “boastful ass” and “insufferable nitwit.”
Seeing that he was being quoted by a journalist, Sir Hugh carried on enthusiastically. “That’s why amateurs must be discouraged,” he said. “They lack the proper knowledge and powers of observation. And I must say, in my long experience, women are not the equal of men in this regard.”
“This is despicable talk, Sir Hugh,” Kate said.
“There’s no sense railing against the natural order of things,” said Sir Hugh calmly. “Mrs. Pankhurst and her suffragettes might as well try to stop the rotation of earth. Men are simply better suited to scientific investigation. Now, there’s nothing wrong with women because they don’t excel at these things; I daresay they have skills we men lack. Why, threading a needle, for instance, is a very difficult business, and I’ve never met a man who could do it better than a woman.”
There was a loud splashing sound as a narrow stream of yellowish liquid curved down from the chandelier into Sir Hugh’s soup. Everyone watched, mute with amazement. The last few drops of liquid splashed into the soup—then silence.
“The monkey has urinated in my soup!” cried Sir Hugh.
“It might’ve been worse,” remarked Miss Karr.
Shepherd had pushed back from the table and was doubled over laughing. I don’t think I’d ever seen him laugh before, but a monkey peeing into someone’s soup was obviously his kind of humor. I couldn’t stop my own smile.
“Is it impossible for you to control that beast?” Sir Hugh roared. “This isn’t the first time he’s harassed me. He needs to be locked up.”
“Barbaric!” said Miss Karr. “Haiku isn’t some specimen, nor is he a pet. He is a person—not a human person, thank God, but a person nonetheless—and if there were any justice in the world, he’d have the same rights as you.”
“Do I have the right to go urinating in people’s soup?” demanded Sir Hugh.
“I really don’t see what all the fuss is about, Sir Hugh,” said Kate with a polite smile. “As a man of science you should know that urine is sterile. It’s only when it’s left to stand that it accumulates bacteria. So, if I were you, Sir Hugh, I’d eat my soup quickly.”
Before the furious Sir Hugh could make a response to this, Dr. Turgenev appeared at the top of the stairs, his spectacles askew.
“I am very excited,” he said glumly as he walked toward the table. He didn’t seem to be leaning as heavily as usual on his cane. “I have momentous news.”
“What is it, Dr. Turgenev?” I asked.
He sighed deeply, then said, “Sky has ended.”
“How do you mean?” Shepherd wanted to know.
Dr. Turgenev sat down. “I have all morning been studying atmosphere. Up to sixty miles, relative composition is unchanged. Oxygen, nitrogen, hydrium. But after sixty miles big change occurs.”
“What happens?” Kate asked.
“All gone.” Dr. Turgenev nodded twice, which, for him, was a sign of huge excitement.
“Nothing at all?” Kate said, and she looked quite upset. “No gases of any kind?”
The Russian scientist shook his head. “Maybe few stray atoms of oxygen or hydrogen. But mostly nothing. Zero air pressure. This is outer space now.”
“Already?” I said, jumping to my feet and rushing to the windows. Everyone else followed.
I was almost disappointed, for we’d been watching the view all morning, and it was not so different now. The distant islands of the Pacificus were small brown wrinkles against the ocean. Earth’s curve was a bit deeper now, and ringed in luminous blue light. And beyond that was the great star-speckled blackness of outer space.
But we weren’t just looking up at it anymore.
We were in it.
I peered up and saw the sun, almost directly over the Starclimber, blazing away in the blackness. It was a strange and thrilling sight.
“Look at the stars!” said Kate. “They’re not twinkling.”
I stared in amazement, for she was right. Their searing light was unwavering.
“Earth’s atmosphere distorts light,” explained Dr. Turgenev. “That is twinkle. No twinkle in outer space.”
“I did like the twinkle,” said Kate.
“But if we’re really in outer space,” said Miss Karr suspiciously, “shouldn’t we all be floating around?”
Dr. Turgenev shook his head. “Not yet. Gravity does not disappear all at once. It weakens every mile from earth. Right now we have only seventy-five percent gravity.”
We all looked about at each other, surprised.
“I haven’t even noticed,” I said.
“I have,” Dr. Turgenev said, taking a few steps. “My limp is not so bad.”
“I do feel lighter, now that I think about it,” said Miss Karr, giving a few experimental hops. “And Haiku has been extremely bouncy.”
“When do we lose gravity completely?” Shepherd asked.
“I am predicting five days,” said the Russian scientist, and then he gave a weary sigh. “This is momentous trip. Already we make great discoveries. I have lunch now.”
He walked back to the dining table and glanced at Sir Hugh’s bowl with a frown.
“Soup is very yellow,” he said.
The moon was bigger and brighter than I’d ever seen.
It hung directly above us, and through the glass dome of the bridge I watched as the astral cable stretched silver and sparkling toward it, as if anchored there. I knew it wasn’t, of course, but somehow I found it a reassuring thought. It still made me nervous, thinking that the only thing keeping the Starclimber aloft was a metal counterweight, spinning through outer space.
“Wouldn’t mind going there one day,” Tob
ias said, nodding up at the moon.
“What about your fear of heights?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Well, you know what Dr. Turgenev said. There’s no up or down in space anyway.”
It was close to midnight. All day we’d been working short, staggered shifts on the bridge, but this was the first time Tobias and I had been paired up together. We were the junior officers, and I think we both felt a bit nervous without Captain Walken around—or even Shepherd, who seemed so confident that you automatically assumed he’d never make a mistake.
At the very beginning of our shift, Tobias and I had looked quickly at each other, as if to say, “They’re putting us in command?” But we didn’t say anything. We just got straight to work.
It wasn’t that the Starclimber was difficult to fly. Once in motion it almost flew itself. But the ship needed constant minding, to make sure all her systems were functioning properly: the motors and cooling fans, the pumps and valves. We checked regularly on the temperature and pressure, the level of carbon dioxide in the air. We scanned the heavens for anything dangerous, especially moving lights. We were pilots and lookouts and mechanics all.
We didn’t talk much, except to pass along necessary information. Everything was new enough that it still took almost all our attention. I didn’t know about Tobias, but I had a nervous, excited feeling in my stomach the whole time. I was on the very first space ship, and one of her pilots too.
Traveling at night toward the stars, I thought yet again how very far away they were, and how you could travel your whole lifetime and never reach even the closest one. But even if you knew you couldn’t have something, it didn’t stop you wanting it. I wondered if Kate was to be my star, and I’d spend my life gazing upon her but never reaching her.
“There’s something between you and Kate de Vries, isn’t there?” Tobias said.
I checked some gauges. “We’re just acquaintances.”
He snorted. “You’re sweethearts.”
“We’re not,” I said, startled. I’d thought my playacting was getting pretty good.