After the hospital we were taken to the Cairo Ritz, where Mr. Lunardi had reserved the entire top floor for us. He didn’t want us disturbed. We were disturbed anyway, by a swelling army of reporters and photographers from newspapers around the world, all wanting our stories and pictures. Mr. Lunardi instructed us not to talk to anyone. The story was ours to tell, and he wanted Miss Karr to be the one to write it. She spent the next three days in a darkroom, developing all the photographs she’d taken during our trip.
As Miss Karr and I sipped our tea, and Haiku ate all the biscuits, Kate and Sir Hugh walked into the courtyard, followed by Captain Walken and Dr. Turgenev. The Russian scientist was leaning on his cane more heavily than usual. I knew they’d just come from the warehouse where the wreckage of the Starclimber was being stored before being shipped back to Lionsgate City. Kate and Sir Hugh had wanted to see what could be salvaged from the laboratory. Not much, judging by their downcast faces. They all sat down with Miss Karr and me, and we ordered more tea from the waiter.
“There’s no sign of the etherian specimen,” Sir Hugh said with a deep sigh. “Crushed to dust in the wreckage.”
Kate nodded solemnly. “It was very brittle.”
“It’s tragic,” said Sir Hugh.
“Tragic,” echoed Kate. “But we do have some excellent photographs, and we discovered a great deal about it. Our article will shake the scientific world.”
“I do wish we had something to show, though,” said Sir Hugh. “Sometimes scientists are infuriatingly hard to convince unless you waggle the thing in their faces.”
“Yes,” Kate said drily. “And sometimes even if you waggle the thing in their faces and it electrocutes them, they still don’t believe you.”
“Hmmm,” said Sir Hugh vaguely. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a nap. This heat is quite enervating. I’ll see you all at dinner.”
As the zoologist strode across the courtyard, an exotic bird managed to poop on his shoulder.
“That’s really too bad about your etherian specimen,” I said.
“Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” Kate said. “I sneaked it up to my cabin before reentry.”
“You’re joking!”
“Not at all. I wanted to keep it safe.”
I looked at the other astounded faces around the table. “But why didn’t you tell Sir Hugh?”
“I will—in a bit. Don’t look at me like that! This is my insurance.”
“Insurance for what, Miss de Vries?” the captain asked.
“In case he tries not to give me equal credit for the article. I still don’t trust him. When the article’s published, I’ll produce the specimen.”
“It’s devious,” I said, shaking my head.
“But ingenious,” said Miss Karr. “Good thinking, Miss de Vries.”
Through the courtyard arches I caught sight of Tobias. He was dressed in a flowing white robe and carried two large shopping bags. I waved to him and he came over.
“What is this you wear?” Dr. Turgenev asked him.
“A galabia,” he said. “It’s a traditional Egyptian robe. I needed some more clothes.”
“It looks cool,” I said.
Tobias nodded. “Probably won’t wear it much back home, though.”
“Have some tea,” said Captain Walken, pouring him a cup.
Kate stepped around behind Miss Karr’s easel. “Gosh, what a brilliant painting!” she said.
“It’s coming along,” said Miss Karr, her eyes twinkling.
Dr. Turgenev craned his neck to take a look. “Sky is not accurate,” he said with a frown. “And tree is too thick. You improve with time.”
“Thank you, Dr. Turgenev,” said Miss Karr.
“It’s like a little piece of home,” said Tobias, having a peek. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Speaking of home,” said Captain Walken, “Mr. Lunardi should be here tomorrow. He’ll take us all back aboard the Bluenose after he inspects the Starclimber.” He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a sheaf of letters. “We’ve had telegrams today from Sir John, and the Prime Minister, full of bravos and patriotic hurrahs. Apparently we’re to be given a ticker tape parade when we return.”
“I don’t mind that,’” Tobias said.
“Not a bad send-off for retirement,” chuckled the captain, sifting through the telegrams. “Let’s see. The king also sends his congratulations and best wishes to all. And, oh, yes, the president of France sent his sympathies for our failed mission.”
“Cheeky!” said Kate indignantly. “We reached outer space first and discovered life beyond the sky! I hardly call that a failure. The last bit didn’t go smoothly, I’ll admit.”
I thought of Shepherd—as did everyone else, judging by the brief silence that followed.
“What happened to the astral cable?” Tobias asked finally. “The part attached to Ground Station?”
“Mostly burned up on reentry,” said Dr. Turgenev. “Lowest bit drifted down into ocean.”
The captain nodded. “Mr. Lunardi said it fell slow as a ribbon.”
“Will this mean an end to space exploration, do you think?” I asked.
Captain Walken shook his head. “Mr. Lunardi’s disappointed, but I’ve never known him to turn away from an idea he loves.”
“We build new rocket, new cable,” Dr. Turgenev said.
“The last one got eaten,” Miss Karr pointed out tartly.
“You’d have to figure out some way of keeping the astral flora and fauna off it,” Kate said.
“Of course,” said Dr. Turgenev. “Protective coating, maybe. This is not big problem. We go up again.”
I was amazed at his confidence, considering all the disasters we’d faced.
“I hope we do go back,” said Tobias.
I turned to him. “After all that?”
“I think so. I want to walk on the moon, remember? What about you?”
I thought of the counterweight, sailing deeper into outer space, its Canadian flag shimmering. Our little piece of earth in the ether. Maybe humans would come across it again one day, but not me. I shook my head.
“I missed the sky,” I said.
Tobias chuckled. “Fair enough. Right now I just want to go home.”
The captain and Dr. Turgenev went off to attend to business, and not long after, Tobias headed off to have a swim.
Miss Karr looked up from her easel with mischief in her eyes. “And what about you, Miss de Vries? You must be anxious to rush home into the arms of your fiancé.”
Kate raised an eyebrow. “You knew from the start, didn’t you?” she said.
Miss Karr cackled. “From the second I set eyes on you two. You belonged to each other. That’s exactly what I thought.”
I felt my face flush. Belonged to each other. I loved that.
“Well, there’s no point putting it off any longer,” Kate said. “I’m off to send some telegrams.” She gave a little shudder. “If you hear screaming, that’s my mother in Lionsgate City.”
“Good luck,” I said.
Just as Kate stood, a porter from the hotel crossed the courtyard toward us.
“Miss de Vries?” he said. “Telegram for you.”
“Thank you.” She opened it. “It’s from Mummy.”
Kate read it with intense concentration, her cheeks quite red by the end.
“This is horrible,” she muttered.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“My fiancé, George—”
“James.”
“Apparently he went for a midnight walk in the Point Grey cemetery. He was found inside a crypt with a shovel and a wheel-barrow—and in a very indecent embrace with Mimsy Rogers. Can you believe it?”
I shook my head in amazement. “Mimsy Rogers really gets around.”
Kate was in full tirade. “I can’t believe what a wretch he is!”
“Why are you so angry?” I said, laughing.
“That’s not all,” Kate said. “They?
??ve eloped!”
From behind her easel, Miss Karr said, “Maybe Mimsy liked graveyards more than you.”
“He pledged his undying love to me!” Kate complained. “And he didn’t even last three weeks!”
“Kate,” I said, “you didn’t care one bit about him! You couldn’t even remember his name.”
She glared at me. “That has nothing to do with it. I’ve been completely humiliated! Rejected! And by the likes of George Sanderson, too!
Miss Karr looked at Kate severely. “Enough, Miss de Vries! The fellow’s done you a huge favor.”
Kate took a deep breath and beamed. “I know. The timing’s perfect.”
She signaled the porter over to the table. “Could you take a return telegram, please? Let’s see…‘Devastated by the news. Utterly heartbroken. Am considering becoming nun. Your loving daughter, Kate.’” She looked up at the porter with a smile. “Did you get everything?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Maybe take out that last line about becoming a nun,” Kate said.
“Best not to give your parents any ideas,” I agreed.
“Please send it right away,” Kate told the porter. “Thank you so much.”
She lifted her tea to her lips. “This really is a delightful courtyard.”
Miss Karr stood. “I think I’ll take a walk in the garden. Come along, Haiku.”
Kate and I sat in silence for a few moments.
“I’m sorry your wedding’s canceled,” I said.
“Terrible business.” She took a sip of her tea and looked at me. “I’m very, very sorry I hurt you, Matt. If I had it to do over again—”
“You’d do exactly the same thing,” I told her.
She was about to protest, but then she laughed. Her cheeks were flushed. “Yes, you’re right. But I always knew I’d be able to make it right in the end. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise, honestly. I’m not the horrible person you think.”
“Marry me,” I said.
She lowered her teacup, shaking slightly, to the saucer. “Aren’t you going to get down on one knee?”
I got down on one knee and took her hand.
“Will you marry me, Kate?”
“You can’t propose properly without a ring,” she said.
I reached into my pocket and took out James Sanderson’s ring, which I’d picked up off the floor of the Starclimber after we’d crash-landed.
“That’s a nice-looking ring,” said Kate with a grin.
“Cost a fortune,” I said. “And now, for the third time. Kate de Vries, will you marry me?”
She leaned forward and took my face in her hands and kissed me.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, and yes, and yes. But it will be terrible.”
“Probably,” I agreed.
“Honestly,” she sighed, “I don’t know what kind of life we’ll have together, with me always flying off in one direction and you in the other.”
I smiled. “It’s a good thing the world’s round,” I said.
About the Author
KENNETH OPPEL is the author of many books, including AIRBORN, a Michael L. Printz Honor Book and winner of Canada’s 2004 Governor General’s Award; the New York Times bestselling SKYBREAKER; and the internationally bestselling Silverwing trilogy and its prequel, DARKWING. A native of Canada, Kenneth Oppel lives with his wife and children in Toronto.
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ALSO BY KENNETH OPPEL
Airborn
Skybreaker
THE SILVERWING BOOKS
Darkwing
Silverwing
Sunwing
Firewing
Dead Water Zone
Credits
Jacket art © 2009 by Shane Rebenschied
Jacket design by Joel Tippie
Copyright
STARCLIMBER. Copyright © 2009 by Firewing Productions Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Mobipocket Reader January 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-177389-1
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About the Publisher
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Table of Contents
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About the Author
Other Books by Kenneth Oppel
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Kenneth Oppel, Starclimber
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