Starclimber (13 page)

“Cruse, go!” shouted Eriksson.

I jumped, shaping myself to the wind as I fell, nose to my target. I had ten seconds of free fall before I deployed my wings. Below me I could see Tobias. I watched for his wings to burst from his pack. They didn’t. I counted one second, then two.

Something was wrong.

I saw his hand reach back, fumbling with his pack.

I folded back my arms, angled my body and streaked down toward him. I collided hard against him, but managed to hold tight. His eyes were huge with fear.

“Won’t open!” he shouted.

I pulled myself around to his front and looked for his ripcord. It must have torn clean off, for I couldn’t see it anywhere. That cord triggered a spring-loaded pilot chute that would fly up and drag out the parawings.

The ground was coming up fast. Tobias was clinging to me with all his might. I had to make a decision. I could open my wings and hope they were strong enough to carry both of us—but I knew there was almost no chance Tobias could hold on to me, especially during the violent deceleration. Only one other choice.

“I’m going to try to trigger your chute!” I shouted at him. I needed to get around to his back, but he wouldn’t release his grip on me. “Tobias, let go!”

He clung to me like a drowning man.

I punched him in the face. I hated doing it, but there was no other way. His grip loosened and I dragged him around in midair so I could get at his pack. I tore it open. I saw the cylinder that contained the pilot chute. The spring mechanism was missing altogether. I clawed open the cylinder’s hatch, reached in with two fingers, and yanked out the top of the pilot chute.

Still holding on to it, I kicked myself free of Tobias and opened my arms and legs wide to slow myself down. Tobias fell faster, drawing out the pilot chute to its proper length. I tumbled out of the way as the chute opened and, a split second later, dragged the wings out of Tobias’s pack. There! He was flying!

I pulled my own ripcord now, and my harness straps bit into me as the wings soared. Without the free-fall wind, it was suddenly very quiet. But I got a shock when I looked down and saw how close the ground was. Tobias and I had fallen too far too fast. We needed to lose a lot of speed if we didn’t want to break our legs—or worse. Our only hope was to steer ourselves through a series of sharp turns.

I looked up and signaled to Tobias. He wasn’t very good at turns, and I could only hope he’d be able to follow my lead. Desperately I looked all around for our landing site. We weren’t going to make it. But with a bit of luck we’d get a soft landing in a bordering field.

I started my turns, pulling hard on my lines, willing myself to lose speed. It was all happening too quickly. Below me, trees were coming up fast; then I was soaring over a fence into a field and corn was crackling beneath me as I landed, dumping the air from my wings before tripping and rolling over and over. I heard the rustle of Tobias’s wings as he careened into the field, cutting a swath through the cornstalks.

I scrambled up, jubilant I had no broken bones, and staggered over to Tobias. He’d pushed himself up on his hands and knees, his face ashen. But he was alive, and he didn’t seem to be injured, aside from the bruise I’d made on his face.

He got to his feet and grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me, his eyes blazing with disbelief.

“I thought I was going to die!” he shouted.

“Me too,” I said. “I thought we both might. Those were good turns you made up there.”

“You saved my life!” he said, and hugged me with surprising strength for someone who’d nearly died. “When you first knocked into me, I thought you were some enormous bird! Lighter than air, isn’t that what they used to say about you?”

I nodded, laughing. “They did. They did say that.”

Someone had sabotaged Tobias’s parawing pack. There was no question. When we examined it later, it turned out the ripcord had been snipped and the pilot chute’s spring mechanism torn out.

Grendel Eriksson had not returned to the training facility. Our airship had returned to its airfield, and the pilots said they’d seen Eriksson get into a motorcar and drive off. Mr. Lunardi was furious. He vowed Eriksson would be swiftly caught and brought to justice.

Three of the other candidates dropped out that evening, Tim Douglas and another two fellows. They’d had enough. I didn’t blame them. Tobias had nearly died, and who knew what might happen next. I just hoped Mr. Lunardi was right—that Eriksson was acting alone and that he’d soon be behind bars. That night on the terrace, everyone was pretty quiet, stunned that we’d had a Babelite in our midst the entire time.

“I knew he was a bit sadistic,” said Reg Perry, “but I never thought he was a killer.”

“I hope he took his bloody clipboard with him,” Tobias muttered.

I slipped away to call Kate from the pay telephone, but it was Miss Simpkins who answered, and she told me Kate was not at home, and I’d best not call again. I wanted to shout at her, but she hung up too quickly. I needed to talk to Kate. I needed to tell her what had happened to me today. And I needed to hear what had happened to her after the jail incident. Were her parents going to let her go on the expedition?

As for me, I had no idea whether I’d be going. Mr. Lunardi and Captain Walken had congratulated me heartily for saving Tobias’s life, but I wasn’t at all sure that would help me.

I wouldn’t find out till tomorrow night.

T
he grand ballroom of the Hotel Lionsgate was packed. Reporters jostled with photographers and newsreel cameramen, and the toast of the town was there in their evening finery. Mr. Lunardi had wanted a big event, and he’d got one. Tonight he would announce the first voyage into outer space, and introduce the first astralnauts.

I’d arrived with Tobias and we meandered about, tongue-tied, eyes skittering around the room.

“This is agony,” I said. “Lunardi might’ve told us beforehand.”

“Maybe he only told the people who got chosen,” Tobias said.

This was a terrible thought. I looked around for the other finalists, trying to see if they looked happy and relaxed. I spotted Shepherd and Bronfman, together as usual, but even Bronfman seemed subdued.

“I don’t think anyone knows,” I said.

“It’s more than a bit cruel,” said Tobias, and he wandered off to find a drink.

I could barely stand still. The mayor was here, and various magnates, and the chancellor of the university. Across the room I caught sight of the French ambassador. He was smiling and chatting, but when he snapped at his assistant, I could tell he was anxious, no doubt worried that his Celestial Tower was under threat.

I’d been keeping an eye out for Kate, and when I saw her enter with her parents, I felt a double jolt of joy and nervousness. I didn’t know whether I should go to her. Fortunately, she spotted me and left her parents to move through the crowd. She was looking very fine, in a burgundy evening dress with white opera gloves.

“Hello,” she said. She looked ill at ease and didn’t even offer me her hand. I looked past her and saw Mr. and Mrs. de Vries watching us with severe expressions.

“I tried to telephone,” I said. “Is everything all right?”

She gave a nod. “My parents are still letting me go. Sir John wrote me a blistering letter, though. Sounded like he came close to cutting me.”

“He wasn’t happy. Lunardi and Captain Walken spoke up for you.”

“And you?”

“Of course I did!”

She gave me an apologetic smile. “I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble.”

“They knew I was just the innocent victim of a criminal mastermind.”

“Do you know yet if you’re going?”

I shook my head. “We all find out at the same time.”

From deep within the room came the sound of an animal shrieking. I peered into the crowd and saw a small furry shape dancing about on someone’s shoulder.

“Is that Haiku?” I asked.

Kate squinted. “I think you’re right, but…he’s not on Miss Karr’s shoulder.”

Haiku’s screeching grew all the louder now as the crowd fell silent, trying to see what the commotion was.

“Somebody get this bloody monkey off me!” roared a man.

“Leave him alone!” came a powerful voice that I recognized instantly as Miss Evelyn Karr’s. “What are you doing to the poor animal?”

Finally the crowd parted and I could see that Haiku was having a temper tantrum, beating his little fists against a gentleman’s head.

“Isn’t that—” I began.

“Yes,” Kate said, aghast, “it’s Sir Hugh Snuffler.”

“Why is Haiku attacking him?”

“Animals despise Sir Hugh,” Kate explained.

“But he’s a zoologist!”

Kate shrugged. “He can’t walk down a street without a dog biting him or a bird defecating on his head. Even indoors he’s not safe. I’ve seen it myself. He was giving a lecture once, and a skinny little rat ran across the stage, stopped, and then ran back and
hurled
itself at his pant leg. One of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. But what on earth is Sir Hugh doing
here
?”

Miss Karr reached Sir Hugh and plucked Haiku off his shoulder. The moment the monkey was in her arms, he became very meek and quiet, his brown eyes huge, as if he’d been the one beaten about the head.

“Madam,” bellowed Sir Hugh, “your monkey has mussed me!”

“How dare you!” Miss Karr bellowed back. “You’ve obviously frightened him. Poor Haiku,” she said soothingly to her monkey. “There, now, that disagreeable man’s gone.”

“I hope Haiku’s better behaved on the ship,” Kate said.

Mr. Lunardi had not been happy when Kate told him the monkey was coming, but even he hadn’t dared argue with Miss Karr.

“Ladies and gentlemen!”

We all turned to the stage as Mr. Lunardi strode out, arms held wide like a circus ringmaster.

“Welcome, and thank you for coming at such short notice. For weeks the newspapers have carried rumors about an astralnaut training program in our city. I am happy to tell you the rumors are all true. The Lunardi Corporation, in partnership with the government of Canada, has created a vessel that will take us into the heavens. And we have just selected the astralnauts who will embark on the first-ever voyage to outer space!”

There was a moment’s stunned silence, and then the ballroom erupted into thunderous applause.

“This is history in the making, ladies and gentlemen,” said Lunardi. “And I don’t think I need remind you that others, all over the world, have been striving to do the same, so far without success. We Canadians shall be the first!”

There was another burst of applause from the audience. I found the French ambassador in the crowd, his face pale with outrage. He hissed something at his assistant, and the two turned and walked toward the exit.

“Aboard our ship,” Mr. Lunardi continued, “we will be carrying some of the world’s most eminent experts, whom I would like to introduce to you now. To chronicle our maiden voyage in words and pictures is the celebrated photographer and writer Miss Evelyn Karr. Miss Karr, please join us.”

The crowd parted, keeping well clear of Haiku’s reach, as Miss Karr stomped across the ballroom. She took her place onstage, towering over Mr. Lunardi. The applause grew all the more enthusiastic when Haiku leapt onto the airship magnate’s shoulder and gave him a vigorous handshake.

“Now then,” Mr. Lunardi continued, “this expedition would have been quite impossible without the phenomenal scientific knowledge of Dr. Sergei Turgenev. He has, shall we say, paved the road to outer space for us, and he will serve aboard our ship as chief science officer. Dr. Turgenev, please.”

Leaning on his cane, the Russian scientist walked onto the stage and wearily raised his hand to the crowd, in a gesture more of resignation than triumph.

I could see that Kate was getting agitated, clearing her throat and rustling her gloved hands against her dress, waiting for her name to be called.

“Of course,” Mr. Lunardi went on from the stage, “we have little idea of what awaits us in outer space, but we must be prepared for extraterrestrial life.”

I looked over at Kate and smiled. Her cheeks were very flushed, her eyes bright.

“And so,” said Mr. Lunardi, “to observe the flora and fauna of the heavenly ether, our expedition will be joined by the illustrious zoologist Sir Hugh Snuffler.”

My breath snagged in my throat. I turned to Kate, whose face was suddenly quite pale.

“Mr. Lunardi never mentioned anything about this,” she hissed to me over the applause. “If I’d known, I’d have…”

“Gone anyway,” I said.

“I’m furious,” she muttered.

“And working with Sir Hugh,” Mr. Lunardi was saying now, “will be Lionsgate City’s very own Miss Kate de Vries, who specializes in high-altitude life-forms. Sir Hugh, Miss de Vries, if you’d be so good as to join our team onstage!”

Kate was breathing again, and began making her way to the front, wearing a smile that might have looked more at home on a wax dummy. I caught a glimpse of Sir Hugh as he passed, still patting his mussed hair and not looking at all pleased. I wondered if he was as surprised as Kate.

They made it to the stage and stood on opposite sides of Mr. Lunardi. Haiku had spotted Sir Hugh and, even from a distance, was shaking his tiny fist and making threatening swipes at him.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” announced Mr. Lunardi, “I present to you the specialist team aboard the first voyage to outer space!”

I watched Kate onstage as she waved and smiled at the audience. Cameras flashed. She seemed so far away, and I felt like I was peering through a telescope, at stars I had no hope of ever reaching.

“And who,” said Lunardi, “you’re now wondering, will pilot these brilliant minds to outer space?”

The whir of newsreel cameras was the only noise to be heard as a hush fell over the audience.

“It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you the commander of the expedition, as fine a pilot as ever sailed the skies, Captain Samuel Walken.”

Captain Walken strolled onstage and let the applause die down. “These past two weeks,” he said, “a group of one hundred truly exceptional gentlemen have been undergoing rigorous trials. What they endured would make your blood run cold! By the end we’d narrowed the candidates to twenty. But only three will be joining this first expedition.”

Three! I’d never thought it would be so few. What chance could I have? Across the silent ballroom Tobias and I caught sight of each other and moved together. My insides were roiling.

“There’s no way,” Tobias whispered to me. “The underwater stuff’s all I was good at.”

“These, then,” announced Captain Walken, “are the astralnauts who will form our crew. From Halifax, Mr. Chuck Shepherd!”

Shepherd gave no whoop of joy, just strode purposefully toward the stage as if he’d never had any doubt he’d be called. The crowd parted around him, applauding wildly.

“I’d have chosen him too,” I murmured.

“Makes perfect sense,” Tobias said, his eyes fixed on the stage, where Mr. Lunardi was shaking Shepherd’s hand. Camera bulbs exploded with enough light for a fireworks display.

One down, two to go.

“From Victoria,” Captain Walken said, “Mr. Tobias Blanchard!”

It was my shout of pleasure that drew everyone’s eyes, for Tobias himself was mute. I grabbed him by the shoulders. “You did it!” I said.

He nodded, dazed.

“You’re an astralnaut!” I said. “Go on!” And I gave him a little shove.

Even though it meant there was one less place for me, I was still glad for him. The way he moved weightlessly underwater was a marvel. He had the fire too, kindled by that bit of space rock he kept in his pocket. Maybe I’d be searingly jealous of him later, but right now I felt only delight to see him walking up onto the stage and shaking everyone’s hand.

“And finally,” Captain Walken called out, “the last member of our crew—”

I took a deep breath.

“From Saskatoon, Mr. Joshua Bronfman!”

As the applause rang out, I had to remind myself to let out my breath, and smile, and clap. Bronfman was whooping and hollering and pumping his fist in the air as he jogged up onto the stage. I felt ashamed. I was glad I’d not asked my mother and sisters to be here tonight. I didn’t look at Kate, in case she was watching me with pity in her eyes. I’d failed, and she’d think less of me now. I thought less of myself.

I’d tried to be sensible, and realize that my chances were slim. I was still clumsy in the suit, I fought claustrophobia. I was the youngest, and not as strong as some of the other men. But I was good in the air, and I’d hoped that would be enough to see me through.

As the photographers and reporters pressed closer to the stage, bombarding the astralnauts with flashbulbs and questions, I made my way toward the exit. I knew I should stay and congratulate everyone, but I just couldn’t face it. I passed Kate’s parents, and they scarcely acknowledged me.

I was crossing the lobby when someone grabbed my arm from behind.

“I don’t understand!” said Kate as I turned to face her. “How could you not be chosen!”

“I wasn’t good enough,” I said simply.

People were beginning to exit the ballroom, and Kate took me by the hand and led me down a quiet hallway.

“They made a mistake,” she said. “I’ll talk to Mr. Lunardi—”

“You’ll do no such thing. Those three will make excellent astralnauts.”

“But…” She looked completely dispirited. “I’d never imagined you wouldn’t be on the ship with me!”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I tried as hard as I could.”

All my life, I’d been used to trying my best, knowing that determination and hard work were my only ladder to a loftier life. It had worked so far. I’d done well aboard the
Aurora
; I’d been accepted into the Academy; I’d fought pirates and salvaged ghost ships, and survived. But this was the first time I’d met with total failure. I felt stunned and…
lesser
.

She took my hands. “You’d be every bit as good as those three,” she said.

I smiled at her loyalty, grateful, knowing in my heart she was wrong. I’d been bested, and that was all there was to it.

Through her left glove I felt something hard.

I touched it and looked up at Kate’s eyes. She stared back, silent, guilty. I didn’t care that there was a couple walking down the corridor, I seized her glove and peeled it off her hand. On her finger was an engagement ring.

“What have you done?” I whispered.

She swallowed, and the guilt in her eyes was extinguished by a flare of defiance.

“This,” she said, “is my ticket to outer space.”