The 39 Clues: Book 8 (17 page)

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the thunderstruck Holts. His face was clearly visible through the Plexiglas of his helmet. Ian Kabra.

* * *

The Lhasa airport was only a fraction the size of Beijing's, and certainly not state of the art. It was even a lot smaller than Chengdu's, where Amy and Nellie had spent a miserable night trying to sleep on rows of benches, waiting for their travel papers for Tibet.

There was no jet bridge. The passengers exited the aircraft down portable stairs directly onto the tarmac. By the time they reached the terminal building, Nellie was out of breath, puffing from the effort of lugging her backpack and Saladin's pet carrier.

"Man, when this contest (is) over, I've got to get back to the gym. I'm way out of shape!"

"That's not it," Amy told her, a little breathless herself. "It's the altitude. Lhasa's over eleven thousand feet. And Tingri is even higher than that. It's not deadly like Everest, but we're going to feel the effects."

Nellie looked worried. "Couldn't we still get--you know-- really sick?"

"Hopefully, we won't be here long enough for that to happen. The guidebook said it helps to drink a lot of water. Dehydration is a big part of it."

"I'll do my best," Nellie said sourly. "But good luck explaining all this to Saladin. He's such a crab

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anyway. This'll probably put him over the edge."

Their only stop was at a pay phone--no new message from Dan--before they trudged to the taxi line to ask about a very nonaverage ride.

Amy had been afraid it would be hard to find transportation to the village of Tingri, about three hours away. But the airport was crawling with taxis in search of business. When Nellie offered three hundred US dollars for the trip, it ignited a price war among the drivers, which brought the fare down to two hundred twenty-five.

Soon they were off with the lowest bidder, a perpetually smiling young man who spoke a little English. According to the ID certificate on the dashboard, his name was thirty-one letters long, but he introduced himself as Chip.

"Tingri. No problem. Near Chomolungma. You call Everest. Go climbing?"

"I hope not!" Nellie mumbled fervently. She turned to Amy. "You have a plan, right? We're not going all the way to Everest so we can stare at the top where the clue is, but not get there?"

"It's kind of a long shot," Amy admitted.

"That's not what I wanted to hear," the au pair put in.

"One of the reasons Everest is so dangerous is because most of the mountain is too high to be reached by rescue helicopter. The air is so thin that the rotor blades can't get any lift. But in 2005, the French developed an ultralight chopper, the A-Star, that landed for

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a few minutes on the summit. That helicopter is parked at an airfield outside Tingri."

Nellie regarded her with a mixture of admiration and wonder. "You're crazy--even for a Cahill! Who's going to fly the thing?"

"You have a pilot's license. I was thinking that, between the two of us, we could figure it out."

"I fly airplanes!" Nellie exploded. "Not some experimental Star Wars helicopter up Mount Everest!"

"I know it sounds nuts," Amy pleaded, "but I think this was meant to happen. Back in 2005, when the French landed that chopper on the summit, Grace made a huge deal out of it. She took Dan and me for the weekend, and we spent the whole time talking about the A-Star, reading about the A-Star, and watching the clips on YouTube. She
knew
we might have to do this one day. And when it came to the thirty-nine clues, Grace was never wrong."

"Except once," Nellie amended in a sober tone. "She thought she'd live longer so you poor kids wouldn't have to go through this alone."

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CHAPTER 22

The yak cart creaked down the dirt lane on the outskirts of the village of Tingri in Xigaze Prefecture. It contained twigs for kindling, dried yak manure for heating fuel, and Dan Cahill.

He got out of the cart and handed over his last few coins to the driver. He was puffing on the thin air; his legs were so stiff they would barely support him; and he was flat broke in the middle of nowhere.

But he had made it! After a thirty-hour train ride, four hours on a smelly bus, and twenty minutes in the company of sticks and yak poop, he was actually at the helipad his grandmother had told him about.

The hangar was just an old barn. Only the French flag that doubled as a windsock hinted that this remote field was the home of the Ecureuil/A-Star 350, the helicopter that had landed on top of the world.

Everest. The peak towered over Dan as he approached the barn. Here it was only one feature in a titanic skyline, but it was the mightiest, the lord and master. The sight of it took his breath away--and

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breath was hard to come by at this altitude.

He peered in the window of the barn, knowing a brief moment of panic. What if it wasn't there? He'd come an awfully long way to find out that the helicopter was --God forbid --in the shop or something.

But no --there it was, looking just like the pictures Grace had shown him, futuristic and spare. The bubble was up, and someone was peering in at the instrument panel.

Why is it so dark in there? Why doesn't he just turn on a light?

Dan was about to knock on the door when he spotted the smashed padlock dangling from the hasp.

That guy's stealing my ultralight!

Without a moment's hesitation, Dan burst into the barn and brought down the intruder with a flying tackle. The two fell to the concrete floor in a struggling heap. A flailing elbow hit Dan in the mouth, and he tasted blood. Enraged, he reached around and pressed the heel of his hand into his opponent's face. He was encouraged to note that the intruder was not much bigger than he was, and about equal in strength.

Suddenly, pain shot through his hand, and he howled in shock.
He bit me!

They wrestled, rolling one over the other, until Dan found his face pressed against a metal grill, eyes staring in at--

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"Saladin?"

His opponent's grip disintegrated.
"Dan?"

"Amy?"

"Oh, God!" Nellie dropped the crowbar she was just about to bring down on Dan's head.

The two Cahills scrambled up, each one goggling as if the sight of the other was a mirage. Then they were together in an ecstatic bear hug.

"Cut it out!" Dan complained. "You're strangling me!" But he didn't loosen his grip on his sister.

Amy had been so worried for so long that the sudden evaporation of tension left her boneless. If she let go, she probably would have collapsed in a heap. "I thought I'd lost you! Just like we lost Mom and Dad!"

"Why didn't you look for me?" Dan babbled.

"We did! We never stopped!"

"Oh, yeah? Then what are you doing here?"

"Well, it must have been exactly the right place!" Amy snapped. "You showed up, didn't you?"

"I caught the Holts on TV!" Dan pulled away. "Stop yelling at me! I missed you
so
much! I thought I'd never see you again!" He scanned the hangar. "And if you lost my computer--"

Amy struggled to regain her composure. "You look taller," she said finally, devouring him with her eyes.

"Don't be an idiot. It was only five days."

"I know ..." There was a tremor in her voice. "But it was a very
long
five days. Dan, I'm so sorry--" And

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then his words percolated down to her. "Wait a minute! The Holts were on TV?"

"They're climbing Mount Everest!" Dan exclaimed. "Like,
right
now! There has to be a clue up there!"

Amy turned back to the A-Star. "We can beat them to the top. Right, Nellie?"

"Wrong," the au pair said sadly. "I'm sorry, you guys, but there's no way I can fly this thing. It looks more like a cat's cradle than an aircraft. I'd get us all killed for sure."

Amy and Dan regarded each other with anguish. Had fate brought them to the same spot in this tiny village in Everest's shadow only to stymie them now?

At that moment, the lights flashed on and a sharp voice rang out:
"Que
faites-vous ici?
What are you doing here?"

Startled, the three turned to face the newcomer, a short, gaunt, middle-aged man in pilot's coveralls.

Shy Amy was tongue-tied. Not so Dan. "We need to go up Mount Everest," he blurted.

The man laughed out loud. "I do not run a tourist service. If it is pretty pictures you want, they sell postcards in the village."

Amy found her voice. "No, he means we have to go to the summit. Right away."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Ah, so you know what the A-Star is capable of.
Alors,
this is impossible. Leave the property at once."

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"We'll pay," said Nellie.

The man scowled. "The A-Star is a piece of technology unique in all the world. You do not rent it like a Jet Ski for one hour at the beach."

The Cahills' despair was palpable. Up until now, they'd succeeded by thinking on their feet, improvising, and overcoming obstacles. This was different. There was only one quick way up Mount Everest--one that avoided the months of training, provisioning, acclimatizing, and climbing. It was this helicopter, period. The laws of science and nature provided no plan B. If the pilot refused to take them, what then?

Nellie indicated the satellite phone on the corner of the workbench. "Let me call my boss. Maybe we can work something out."

Amy and Dan exchanged bewildered glances. As far as they knew, Nellie's boss was their Aunt Beatrice, Grace's sister, technically their guardian. Aunt Beatrice was so cheap that she wouldn't spring for cable TV, much less a helicopter to the earth's pinnacle.

The pilot was disgusted. "You Americans think everything can be bought with your
money!"

"One call," Nellie persisted.

There was a confidence and authority in her voice that Amy and Dan hadn't heard before. Their au pair had always been helpful -- occasionally a lifesaver. But she'd always taken a backseat in the Clue hunt. Something was different now.

"Listen to what my boss has to say," Nellie went

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on. "I really think it'll be worth your while."

He looked aggrieved but gestured toward the sat phone.

She punched in the numbers and waited for the satellite connection to be made.

"Sorry to wake you up, sir. Yes, I do know what time it is there." Quickly, she outlined their situation and then passed the handset to the Frenchman. "He wants to talk to you."

Amy and Dan watched intently as the pilot listened to the voice many thousands of miles away. His eyes widened; his expression grew increasingly awed. He did not say a single word; just handed the phone back to Nellie and announced, "We depart in ten minutes!"

As the man set about the preflight preparations, Amy sidled up to the au pair. "Who did you call?"

Nellie shrugged. "My uncle. He's a pretty persuasive person."

"But what did he say? Did he bribe the guy?"

"How should I know?" the au pair retorted. "I wasn't part of the conversation." She glared at them, as if daring them to question her further.

The Cahills knew better than to second-guess the person who finagled them a ride up Everest. Yet Amy couldn't hold back. "Are you ever going to tell us who you really are?"

Nellie hesitated. "I'm your babysitter--"

"Au pair," Dan corrected automatically.

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She gathered them into her arms.
"And
your friend," she finished. But the expression on her face was strangely guilty. "You'd better get ready. This is your one shot."

The pilot helped brother and sister into GORE-TEX wind suits and provided them with boots and gloves. The temperature at the Everest summit could reach triple digits below zero, even without factoring in the wind, which averaged 120 miles per hour.

Breathing apparatus was next --face masks connected to cylinders that were harnessed to their backs. The rigs were awkward and uncomfortable. Dan couldn't escape the feeling of a mild yet never-ending asthma attack, and Amy was unnerved by the sound of her own breath reverberating in her ears. But the equipment was absolutely necessary. At 29,035 feet, the air contained only one-third as much oxygen as at sea level. Without supplemental Os, they would not last thirty seconds.

Finally, the pilot carefully weighed them on a scale. In the impossibly thin air and low pressure, every ounce was critical. A few extra pounds could make the difference between a clean takeoff and being stranded in a place where no one could survive for long.

Nellie stepped forward. "My turn."

"This is the famous American sense of humor, no?" the Frenchman exclaimed in disbelief. "We cannot accommodate another milligram. It is only because these two are children that I can take them both without risking all our lives."