Skybreaker Read online

  “Do you know what all these things are?” I asked Kate.

  “No,” she said, “but I can’t wait to start dissecting some of them.”

  “Kate, you’re not going to cut them up!” exclaimed Miss Simpkins.

  “Oh yes, it’s quite necessary.”

  “You’ll not do it in our cabin.”

  “It’s unlikely any will escape.” Kate gave me a sly smile. “That one does have nasty-looking mandibles though, I must say.”

  “You’ll keep them in their bottles!” said Miss Simpkins.

  Kate ignored her. “This is very exciting. This could mean there’s a vast airborne zoology just waiting to be discovered.”

  “They’re just little bugs,” said Nadira.

  “Not just any bugs, though. Most bugs are very sensitive to cold temperatures, but lots of these are special. Look how active they are, even though it’s below freezing outside.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “They should all be frozen.”

  “I’m thinking they might have some chemical in their bodies that lowers their freezing point.”

  “Like ethylene glycol,” I said, delighted I remembered this detail from my studies. I could see Kate was impressed, because she stopped talking and her eyebrows lifted. “It was invented by a Frenchman, Charles Wurtz. A chemical that stops liquids from freezing.”

  “Then this would be the same, only produced biologically!” Kate said. “And here’s the other exciting thing about these little fellows. If they can live up high, so can bigger creatures. Predators.”

  “Really?” asked Nadira skeptically.

  “Think what the blue whale eats. Plankton. Krill. The tiniest creatures are enough to keep the biggest in the world alive.”

  Kate’s words sent a sudden thrill through me. I had to hand it to her, she had a way of spinning your thoughts in completely new directions. A creature as vast as a whale, sailing the sky.

  “Now,” Kate said, “I’ve got a lot of work to do. Classifying and so forth.”

  Nadira and I looked at each other, amused. We’d been dismissed. Kate was already busy making sketches and notes, oblivious to everything else.

  I glanced at the clock. It was still an hour before dinner. We went back to our reading. All was quiet. Occasionally Miss Simpkins, engrossed in her book, would give a little squeak or gasp and sit up very straight in her chair.

  “Is it an exciting bit, Marjorie?” Kate asked after the twentieth gasp. Miss Simpkins ignored Kate, or perhaps was too excited to hear her. She turned the page and squeaked again.

  “Is it a good novel, Marjorie?” Kate persisted in exasperation.

  “Hm? Oh yes, indeed it is.”

  “Really? What’s it about?”

  Miss Simpkins lowered the book to her lap and looked sternly at Kate.

  “An ill-advised romance between a headstrong young heiress and a stable boy.”

  “How riveting,” said Kate. “How does it all turn out?”

  “With heartbreak, disaster, and death.” She let her gaze drift across the room to settle on me.

  “I must read it after you, then,” said Kate breezily. “I adore stories about stable boys.”

  “It’s not at all appropriate for someone of your tender years,” said Miss Simpkins curtly and went back to reading.

  I’d barely returned my gaze to my wretched textbook when the door opened and Slater strode in.

  “My, what a studious lot we are today,” he said. I did not look up but watched him from the corner of my eye as he moved across the room toward me, chest thrown out, chin tilted high like the figurehead of some flamboyant ship. He bent to take a quick look at my textbook.

  “What a lot of rubbish,” he said with a chuckle.

  “It’s rubbish I need to learn.”

  “I can assure you, you don’t need it,” Slater said.

  “I do if I want to graduate from the Academy.”

  Slater gave a sniff. “They’re probably still teaching Morse code.”

  “They are, actually.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about. About as useful as a dead language. Dorje learned it back in Nepal when they still used telegraphs.”

  For some reason I was rather good at Morse code, but I had to admit Slater was right. Nowadays, I’d never known it to be used aboard ship.

  “Looks like you’ve done more erasing than anything,” Slater carried on. “I might be able to lend a hand.”

  “I’m fine, thanks.” I doubted he could make any more sense of the calculations than me, but I dared not run the risk of having him show me up in front of Kate.

  “Suit yourself. Just remember, you don’t need a scrap of paper from the Academy to fly.” He held his arms out. “Look at me. No scrap, and I’m a captain, my boy.”

  I hated it when he called me “my boy.” I sensed there was nothing affectionate about it; it was meant only to keep me in my place. What made it more galling was that he was not much older than me.

  “Well,” Slater said, “I came to let you all know we’ve just crossed the equator, and that always puts me in a celebratory mood.” He went to the gramophone, sorted through the ample collection of records, and placed one on the turntable. He cranked the handle. “Miss Simpkins, would you do me the honor of a dance?”

  Kate’s chaperone flushed from her collar to her hair. For a moment I thought she would decline and mutter some excuse, but she said, “Very well, a bit of exercise would do me good.”

  “Well, if I’m only a bit of exercise to you, Miss Simpkins, perhaps I should find a more eager partner.” Grinning, he took her hand and led her to the room’s center.

  From the gramophone’s horn soared a rousing waltz.

  Hal Slater, I had to admit, was a very good dancer. And so was Miss Simpkins. Watching her in Slater’s arms, I saw her for the first time not as Kate’s irritating chaperone, but as a young woman. She was only a little older than Slater. Dancing made her graceful and attractive. She smiled. Her hair caught the light. I felt I was watching a miraculous transformation.

  “Delightful,” said Kate, clapping as the dance ended. “Well done, Marjorie. Well done, Hal!” As another waltz started up on the gramophone, she turned to me. “Come on, Matt!”

  “You’ll have to teach me,” I said quietly as she walked over, hands outstretched.

  “You’ll get the hang of it instantly.”

  I was glad of the excuse to hold her.

  “It’s called the box step. Feet together. Here we go. Take a step with your left foot. Now step out and over with your right, and now bring your left over. Good. Now the reverse: back with your right, back and over with the left, and bring your right over so your feet are together again. You see? One, two, three. One, two, three. All there is to it.”

  We danced—or tried to at least. As Slater swirled Miss Simpkins effortlessly around the lounge, I staggered and lurched and stepped on Kate and bashed her into furniture. I felt like an imbecile automaton with rusted limbs.

  “Ow,” Kate said again.

  “Sorry.”

  “Would you mind stepping on my other foot next time?”

  “Shouldn’t I be leading?”

  “Then lead.”

  “I’m trying.”

  I gripped her more tightly, counting in my head. I watched Slater, trying to copy him. The music didn’t seem to be cooperating with my counting. There were more beats than I had footsteps.

  “Well, that was very…vigorous,” said Kate when the waltz ended. “Thank you.”

  “I think I’m starting to get the hang of it,” I lied.

  “Mmm,” Kate said.

  “I’m quite puffed,” said Miss Simpkins, her eyes shining happily.

  “It’s just the altitude,” Slater told her. “Let’s turn up the oxygen a bit, so we can all dance some more. Three fine ladies aboard my ship. I can’t let this opportunity pass.” He went to a small brass tap above the door and gave it a half turn. I heard a faint hiss as valves opened
and oxygen slipped invisibly through the grates.

  “A little treat! Don’t get used to it!” Slater warned us jovially. “Miss de Vries, may I have this dance?”

  I did not like to see him hold her. Had our bodies been so close when we danced? In his arms, she looked suddenly older, someone I didn’t quite recognize. Slater led confidently and Kate’s movements surrendered to his as they glided around the lounge. They fit together perfectly. She laughed, she smiled up at him, and I felt desperately, desperately unhappy. I could not look away. It was as if I’d touched something viciously cold, and my fingers had fused with it—I could not pull free, so it kept on burning with its coldness.

  I asked Nadira to dance.

  “Promise you won’t kill me,” she said.

  “That bad, was I?”

  “You just need a little more practice,” she said, and placed her hand inside mine. I held her waist. It was a completely different feeling than holding Kate. With Kate I was aware of a stiff layer of clothing; with Nadira, I was aware of her skin beneath the clothing. I cleared my throat and concentrated on my dancing. I looked over her shoulder and tried not to think about her throat and face and hair being so close to me. I tried not to think about the warm, supple curve of her waist. One, two, three. One, two, three. Kate and Slater swished across our path, chatting and laughing, and I felt like a small boat swamped in their wake.

  “You’re doing very well for a beginner,” Nadira told me, when my feet found the rhythm again.

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “After jumping rooftops, dancing’s a breeze.”

  I smiled back. When another waltz started up, Kate and Slater just kept going, so I did too with Nadira. Maybe it was just the giddy rush of the extra oxygen, but I thought I really was getting the hang of dancing.

  We swirled, and all my sensations swirled too. I breathed the sandalwood of Nadira’s hair; I saw Kate in Slater’s embrace, and felt the icy burn of my jealousy. The music quickened, and so did our steps. Mr. Dalkey and Kami came in, and now Miss Simpkins was dancing again. Slater roared for Mrs. Ram to come out from the kitchen. Dalkey, though heavyset, was an amazingly nimble dancer. We pushed back the furniture so we had more room. We all switched partners, though I never seemed close enough to Kate to claim her before the next song started up. I danced with Mrs. Ram. I even danced with Miss Simpkins. I danced again with Nadira. I felt my feet lighten and become swift and sure. All of us were flushed and laughing, barely having time to catch our breaths between songs as Slater cranked the gramophone.

  “Ah, here’s something,” Slater said, putting on a new record. An altogether different sound flooded the room. There were guitars and clapping hands and a wild keening woodwind whirling through it. “You’ll like this,” Slater called out to Nadira.

  He was right, for her eyes lit up at once, and she began a dance of her own. I had seen flamenco in Sevilla and belly dancing in Constantinople, and this was like an exotic gypsy blend of both. Her arms lifted, graceful as stripling branches. Her fingers stroked and caressed the air, her feet stamped, and her body slowly swirled. Her bracelets flashed and jangled. She held her neck proudly, and her eyes and teeth flashed as she smiled. Her hips circled and swayed.

  “Oh, this is quite inappropriate,” said Miss Simpkins, but she kept watching—as did we all. No one could turn away. It was hypnotic. For just a moment I worried Kate might catch me staring but then I thought, Let her. All the time Nadira’s eyes were on me as she danced. Music filled the room, as heady as incense.

  And then Slater was on his feet trying out the dance for himself, and Kate too, and Nadira was teaching them as she swayed. Kami and Mrs. Ram joined in. Nadira turned to me and crooked her finger, summoning me like a mesmerist. I came, and tried to match my movements to hers. The music seemed to be speeding up, and then I realized the gramophone was skipping. At first I thought it was just the stomping of all our feet, but then I felt the ship give a strange shrug.

  I sought out Slater’s eyes. He was too enthralled with the dance to notice. The gramophone’s needle righted itself and the music careened on, but I felt a second shudder pass through the ship. Had it been a bigger shake I would have known it was just a gust, but it was the very slyness of the movement that put me on alert.

  “What’s wrong?” said Nadira, for I had stopped dancing.

  “Did you feel that?” I asked Slater.

  He shook his head.

  “There’s something not right,” I said.

  “Nothing’s amiss, Cruse. Don’t be a spoilsport.”

  The door opened and Dorje approached Slater and spoke close to his ear. Slater gave a quick nod.

  “Please excuse me,” he said. “Mr. Dalkey, Kami Sherpa.”

  As they all left the lounge I followed.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as Slater strode aft along the keel catwalk. He scowled when he saw me.

  “Go back to the lounge, please.”

  “It’s the rudder, isn’t it.”

  “It appears to be jammed. It’s not serious right now, but it will be when we need more turning power. I’m sending Dalkey and Kami out to deal with it.”

  “I’ll go too,” I said.

  “There’s no need.”

  But there was for me. I had no doubt his two crewmen were competent. But I badly wanted to prove I wasn’t just a useless boy. It shouldn’t have mattered so much to me, but it did.

  “I’ve no fear of heights,” I told him. “They might need an extra hand.”

  “You’ll only slow us down.”

  “I can handle myself on the ship’s back.”

  “At twelve thousand feet?”

  “I’ve worked at such heights,” I lied.

  “Looking to impress Miss de Vries, are you?”

  “She’s seen me do more difficult things than inspect a rudder.”

  We’d reached an equipment locker, and Dalkey and Kami were already slipping on coats, strapping on tool belts.

  “She’s certainly a fine young lady,” Slater said. “And a woman’s eye will always stray to the man of accomplishment and means.”

  He said it with a lift of his eyebrow, and I knew he wanted me to think Kate was interested in him. And for all I knew, maybe she was.

  “I’m happy to help you out,” Slater said. “Grab a coat. Gloves and goggles in there. Boots too. And get a safety harness on.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered, reaching into the locker and suiting up.

  “A word to the wise, though,” Slater said. “That Kate of yours, I look at her, and you know what I see? A pretty face and a heart of steel. She knows what she wants. She’ll take it, and I pity the poor wretch that stands in the way.”

  “Try not to get in the way, then,” I told him. He gave a hearty laugh and clapped me on the shoulder.

  My skin felt hot and my fingers trembled with anger as I clipped my harness around my chest. Hurriedly I climbed after Mr. Dalkey and Kami up the ladder to the crow’s nest. Slater’s words were nonsense, but they wormed their way into my brain. I was eager for the cold cleansing wind that would greet me on the ship’s back.

  Out I went, pulling the goggles over my eyes. I glanced at the thermometer fixed to the domed hatch. The mercury hovered just above freezing. Bright sun reflected off the Sagarmatha’s silvered skin. In the fleece-lined coat I did not feel the cold, and the wind was lighter than I’d expected. Crouching, I clipped my line to the safety rail that ran along the ship’s spine. Ahead of me, Dalkey and Kami made their way back toward the upper tail fin, which rose ten feet above the hull.

  I’d never been outside at such a height, and when I glanced down over the side, I saw glimpses of the Indian Ocean through the clouds. It sparked in me no vertigo or feeling of danger. As always when I was aloft, the vista of sky and cloud seemed completely natural. This was more home to me than any place on earth.

  The rudder was hinged at the rear of the fin, and to reach it we had to make our way single-file alongside the fin then dow
n the slope to the stern. Dalkey and Kami proceeded more cautiously now. I paid out my safety line as I went, my rubber-soled boots giving me sure footing.

  Not far from the stern, I saw a long wire slapping against the hull, and my first thought was that something must have ripped free—a landing line, or worse, part of the rudder assembly. The wire lifted in the wind, wavered, and then lashed against the ship’s skin.

  Dalkey waited till the wire was still, then drew closer, meaning to grab it and tie it off. Before he could lay hands on it, though, it snapped high in the air, circled wildly, and whipped Dalkey across the face and torso. Above the wind, I could hear Dalkey’s cry of pain. The blow brought him to his knees. He began to slide but grabbed hold of the rail with his hand. It was then I realized he had not secured his safety line.

  Kami hurried forward to help his crewmate, but Dalkey was already rising to his feet and waving his hand to show he was all right. I caught sight of the livid welt running across the left side of his face.

  “Your line!” I shouted out to him. “Fasten your safety line!”

  He ignored me, or maybe he did not hear me above the wind. It was possible that Dalkey never used safety lines, so confident was he of his skills. Intent on securing the loose wire, he stepped forward, hand outstretched.

  Suddenly there was not one wire, but three.

  They swirled briefly in the air, then, as if coordinating an attack, drew back like bullwhips and struck. Dalkey’s arm flew up to shield himself. One wire hit his back, the other his stomach. Dalkey’s coat and shirt exploded off him. Flames leapt from his eyes through the goggles, melting them. His body, as though viciously tugged by puppet strings, jerked ten feet in the air. It all happened in a single beat of my heart. Then Dalkey fell, past the ship’s stern, and was gone.

  I realized with horror that he’d been electrocuted. The wires must be high voltage lines, severed somehow from the ship’s circuitry. But as they arched high in the air, near the rudder’s tip, I finally saw their source. These were not wires.