Skybreaker (16 page)

“It should have a name,” she said.

“Of course,” said Hal. “Would you do the honour?”

“Really the honour should be yours since you saw it first.”

“I insist.”

“That’s very gallant of you. Thank you.” She thought for a moment. “Aerozoan. Creature of the air.”

“Well done,” said Hal.

I wished I’d stayed away from the lounge altogether. Clearly in the two days I’d been working so hard aboard Hal’s ship, he and Kate had spent a lot of time together. Every look she gave him, every kind word, was poison to me. I could not bear it.

Nadira walked in from the lounge and sat down opposite me at the dining table.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked.

“No, not at all,” I said, though I could feel my mouth go dry. It was the first time we’d spoken since the crow’s nest incident. I liked thinking of it as an incident rather than a kiss. It made me feel less guilty.

“I was wondering,” she said, lowering her voice, “if you wanted to do some mathematics with me.”

I smiled when I saw she’d discreetly smuggled one of my textbooks into the dining room.

“It’s awfully nice of you,” I said. “Are you sure?”

She tapped the cover. “I took a look earlier. I found the page you were on.”

“Ugly stuff,” I said.

“Very ugly. But I think I’ve got the hang of it.”

“Really?”

“Took about two hours to figure it out, but what else is there to do around here?”

I returned my dinner plate and cutlery to the serving window, thanked Mrs. Ram, and sat down beside Nadira. From where we were, I couldn’t see Kate and Hal, and I was glad, for I’d had my fill of them chatting, and wasn’t eager for them to know I was getting help with my schoolwork. Miss Simpkins, though, had a clear view of us through the archway, and would peep over at us occasionally. Doubtless she would tell Kate I preferred the company of gypsies now.

Nadira pulled her chair closer, and we bent over my textbook. Our faces were very close together. She smelled nice. I forced myself to concentrate on the page.

She had not lied: she was good at math, and was a good teacher too, clear and patient. It was like she used the numbers to tell a story, with a beginning, middle, and end, and suddenly it all made sense to me.

“My professor couldn’t do that,” I told her gratefully. “Explain it so well. That was brilliant.”

She shrugged, but I could tell she was pleased. “Any time.”

We were still hunched over the book together, and for a moment, we just looked at each other, silent. The urge to
touch her was strong, so I scratched at my cheek and sat back in my chair. I tried to think up something to say.

“You must have plans,” I said, “for when this is all over.”

Her gaze fell to the table. “I don’t know yet. It was all very quick, my leaving home, coming to find you. I don’t know if I have a plan yet.” She nodded towards the lounge. “I’ve been looking at all the newspapers, reading up on the world, trying to figure out how I might fit in to it.”

“I think you could handle anything you turned your hand to.”

She smiled, and for the first time I saw she was scared. When you’ve seen someone jump rooftops and dodge bullets, it’s hard to imagine they could be afraid of anything. Maybe her home had not been a good one, but it was the only one she had, and she’d left it and launched herself on a very risky adventure. Anyone would be frightened, and lonely. I wanted to say something reassuring to her, but before I could figure out the words, Hal was standing in the archway.

“Cruse, come join us,” he said. “I’ve worked you like a galley slave today. Come take a break!”

I could not escape without seeming rude or sulky, so I returned to the lounge with Nadira and sat down.

“How are you faring, Miss Simpkins?” I inquired.

“I’m flaking away!” she lamented. “My skin’s terribly chapped from this dryness!”

Hour by hour, the air grew thinner and colder. Last I checked, the outside temperature was nearly negative twenty-three. And with the cold came a terrible desert dryness.

“What about all your moisturizing creams?” Kate said. “I hear you putting them on all through the night.” She made the sound of a jar lid being rapidly unscrewed.

“Only if I happen to wake up,” said Miss Simpkins defensively.

“After all that, I’d think you’d be soft as a slug by now.”

“But my creams are running low,” said Miss Simpkins. “Just look at my hands!”

Kate dutifully went over to see. “Gosh, you do look a bit mummified,” she said gravely.

Miss Simpkins withdrew her hands, affronted.

I did not care to admit it, after all Miss Simpkins’s whining, but I too felt the dryness. The skin around my thumbs had split from chafing, and I was surprised how painful it was. My eyes burned faintly in their sockets, and my elbows itched, especially at night.

“It’s devilishly dry at these altitudes, Miss Simpkins,” Hal said. “There’s not much to be done, I’m afraid. Drink lots of water. More important, keep walking. I know you’re all feeling listless with the thin air, but you’ll acclimatize faster if you stay active.”

“It’s all I can do to walk across the room without wheezing,” Miss Simpkins complained.

“Make sure to take at least two walks a day, for at least twenty minutes each. Don’t let yourselves get weak. On this journey, the sky itself will prove to be our greatest adversary.”

Miss Simpkins, I’d noticed, had developed a dry cough,
and several times Kate and Nadira had complained of headaches. There would be no more dancing. Yesterday morning, when we’d passed fourteen thousand feet, I noticed the climb to the crow’s nest ladder left me out of breath. My heart beat harder and faster than usual. Throughout the day I’d occasionally felt light-headed. And that night I’d slept fitfully. But upon waking this morning, even though we continued to climb, I was myself once more. My body seemed to have acclimatized to these new heights, and I was hugely relieved.

“Do you feel the thin air at all?” Kate asked Hal.

“I’m used to it,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I should have been born a Sherpa. Two thousand feet or twenty thousand, it makes no difference to me.” As if to prove his point, he added, “You know, I fancy a cigar.”

“Oh, must you?” protested Miss Simpkins, giving a little cough.

“Afraid so, Miss Simpkins. Cigar, Cruse?”

“Yes, thanks,” I said.

“Matt, honestly,” said Kate. “You don’t smoke.”

“You’ve just never seen me.” I gave her what I hoped was a roguish wink.

“Good man,” Hal said, cutting off the tip and handing me a cigar.

Since I’d started working aboard the ship, I’d noticed that Hal was less likely to call me lad or boy. For my part, I’d started calling him Hal, though he hadn’t invited me. If Kate was calling him Hal, I refused to call him mister and play schoolboy to his master.

I think he was satisfied with my work, and Dorje had told me that Hal had been impressed with how I’d helped save Kami Sherpa on the ship’s back. Of course, all Hal had said on the matter was “Good work up there, Cruse.” Much as he vexed me, I had to admit he was a good captain and a good leader. And he carried it off with such verve. I had to confess, I rather liked him. Hated him too. For though he seemed to hold me in higher esteem now, it wasn’t stopping him from flirting with Kate.

I made a big show of rolling the cigar and sniffing it appraisingly so I could watch how Hal lit his. I got mine fired up and sat back with a contented sigh. Kate was right of course, I’d never smoked a cigar in my life. I’d tried a cigarette once and had not enjoyed it. The cigar was worse. After a few moments my mouth felt like it had been sprayed by a skunk, and then the skunk had decided to curl up with a bunch of friends and spend the night. I wondered how long I’d have to carry on with this. I did enjoy the feel of the cigar poised between my thumb and fingers, and wondered if I looked terrifically suave.

“Ladies?” said Hal, humorously offering his cigar box to them.

To my surprise, Nadira stood and took one. She accepted Hal’s lighter, flicked a flame from it, and ignited her cigar. Miss Simpkins watched, horrified. Hal and I watched, mesmerized. Nadira puffed meditatively a few times, and then blew out a series of perfect smoke rings.

“I think I’m going to be ill,” said Miss Simpkins.

“Have you been smoking long?” Kate asked with keen interest.

“Mmm,” Nadira said.

“Is it … traditional?”

“You mean is it a gypsy thing?” said Nadira. “No. It’s just the men make it look like so much fun. Want a puff?”

“All right,” said Kate with scarcely a moment’s hesitation.

“Kate, no!” exclaimed Miss Simpkins. “What would your mother say?”

“Someone would have to tell her first,” said Kate. She took Nadira’s cigar and had a puff. She winced. “You know, I rather like it.”

“You don’t,” Nadira said.

“It’s a very interesting taste,” Kate said bravely, taking another pull.

“Give it back before you’re sick,” said Nadira. Kate surrendered the cigar.

“This is all most diverting,” said Hal.

Kate’s cheeks, I noticed, had turned a rather minty shade of green.

“Excuse me,” she said, standing abruptly and leaving the lounge.

I stood to go after her, but Miss Simpkins stopped me. “I’ll see to her. Such foolishness, honestly.”

As she bustled out after Kate, Hal gave Nadira and me a conspiratorial wink. “Cigars are best left to vagabonds like us, eh?”

Slumped back in our chairs, a hard day’s work behind us, we suddenly seemed equals. Hal exhaled and sang:

Come all ye young fellers that follows the sky.

Way! Hey! Blow the man down!

I’ll sing ye a song and I’ll tell you why.

Give us the time and we’ll blow the man down!

Hal looked at me expectantly. I knew the sky shanty well enough and was glad of the excuse to stop puffng on my cigar, so I carried on:

‘Twas in a Sky Trawler I first served my time.

Way! Hey! Blow the man down!

And in a Sky Trawler I wasted my prime.

Give us the time and we’ll blow the man down!

Hal gave me an approving nod, and as we both careened on into the third stanza, Nadira chimed in with the way heys and the blow the man downs. Hal started stamping his boot heel against the floor. Nadira and I clapped to keep time. We were risk takers, rule breakers, all three of us, bushwhacking our way through the obstacles thrust in our paths by polite society. This morning Nadira had kissed me. And I’d kissed back. Had it really happened? Hal stood and, still singing lustily, made his way to the bar, where he poured three glasses of port. He was just bringing them over when Jangbu Sherpa stepped into the lounge.

“Everything all right?” Hal asked above our singing.

“We’ve picked up a strange transmission,” Jangbu said.

“Distress call?”

Nadira and I stopped.

“No. It’s on the wrong frequency. It’s almost off the dial. We only came across it by accident. There’s no message. It’s
a single pulse, repeated every two seconds.”

Hal took another puff of his cigar, unconcerned. “Cruse, what do you think?”

“It’s not a distress call. Sounds more like a homing beacon.”

“We’re probably picking up something from down below, Australia way,” Hal remarked.

“It’s too strong,” said Jangbu.

“From another ship, then.”

“Our ship,” said Jangbu.

Hal said nothing.

“There’s no other vessel in sight,” Jangbu continued. “The signal’s very strong. It could only be coming from our ship.”

For a moment Hal stood perfectly still, his face a mask. Then he carefully ground out his cigar. He turned to Nadira. His voice was dreadful in its calmness.

“Where’s the transmitter?”

“What do you mean?” she said, startled.

“Where the hell is it?” he shouted.

“You think she brought it aboard?” I said, only now understanding Hal’s lightning line of thinking.

“Of course she did,” Hal said. “So John Rath could follow us.”

“I didn’t!” Nadira cried.

“I never should have let you aboard my ship! Tell me where it is!”

Nadira’s eyes were wide with fear. “I don’t know anything about this, I swear.”

“You’re a gypsy liar.” He grabbed her roughly by the arm.

“Hal!” I said, rising to my feet. “You can’t be sure of this!”

“Of course I am. She’s cozier with those rascals than she lets on.” He began pulling Nadira towards the door. “You’re coming with me. If you won’t tell us where it is, we’ll search your room and everything you brought aboard.”

“This can’t be right, Hal!” I said.

“Get out of the way,” he said, pushing me to one side as he marched Nadira out of the room.

I stood there in the lounge, frozen. A part of me knew that Hal might be right. I’d trusted Nadira on a gut feeling, but we knew very little about her. She obviously had secrets, and maybe some of the darker kind. In league with pirates? It seemed far too nefarious. But who else could have brought the homing beacon aboard the
Sagarmatha
?

They’d been inside my room.

Back in Paris, standing in the Academy quadrangle, I had seen something shift behind my window. It had not been my imagination.

I ran out of the lounge, down the passageway, and threw open the door to my cabin. I dragged my duffle bag out from beneath the bunk and loosed the drawstrings. Dumping all of the contents onto the floor, I handled everything, opening the books, patting clothing for suspicious bumps.

I lifted the duffle bag to see if I’d missed anything, but it was empty.

Still, it felt heavy. And I remembered how oddly heavy it had seemed when I’d first hefted it over my back in Paris.
Feeling sick, I took my jackknife and slit the padded bottom. When I pushed my hand between the layers of fabric, I felt some kind of thin metal lozenge. I yanked it out. Despite its smallish size, it was weighty in my hands. From one end sprouted a long, whip-thin antenna whose end was still somewhere in the bag. I tugged out more, and more, and more still, for it was very long and ingeniously woven into the lining of my duffle bag, making it one enormous transmitter, and giving its infernal signal enough power to travel miles through the sky. The antenna’s tail end was snagged deep in the fabric, and I could not wrench it free, so I left the whole lot on the floor. I ran out of my room and down the passageway.