Airborn by Kenneth Oppel

there were mermaids. They were just porpoises and narwhals and such.”
    I could see she didn’t like this much. I was insulting her. But what else could I say? I was just telling her the facts.
    “Maybe you should talk to the captain about it,” I suggested. “I’m sure he’d talk with you, miss.”
    Captain Walken surely must have read the journal last year when we took the gondola on board. I wondered that he’d never spoken of the strange things it contained—but of course he wouldn’t have. He would never have divulged the contents ofanother captain’s log to any but the relevant officers and authorities.
    “I don’t need to talk to the captain about it. I expect I’d get much the same as what I’ve just heard from you.”
    “It’s not that I haven’t looked,” I blurted out as she turned to leave. “I’ve looked, for all sorts of things, you can take my word on it. Every flicker in the sky.” I shook my head. “I’ve never seen anything. But I’d love to. What your grandpa described is amazing. It sent shivers across my belly and then up into my armpits.”
    “Me too!” she said, nodding with a frown. “That tingly feeling. I get it every time I read it, and I’ve read it a hundred times now.”
    All the passengers in the lounge, including Miss Simpkins luckily, were still crowded around the windows, riveted by the eruption. The volcano was putting on quite a show. Half the island was aflame now, lava crackling and steaming as it poured into the water.
    “Have you shown the journal to anyone else?” I asked her. “Your parents surely.”
    I saw her nostrils narrow as she sucked in an angry breath. “They’re embarrassed by the whole business. Mother always thought he was odd. Thetraveling, the balloons. Just silly. They always thought he was a bit of a nutter. Hallucinations, that’s what they said. ‘Let’s just forget the whole thing.’ That’s why I had to send the letter to the Zoological Society myself!”
    I blinked.
    “I couldn’t let my parents stop this from getting out to the world! This is a major discovery—a new animal! I wrote them a letter describing more or less what my grandfather saw and asked them if they’d care to see a facsimile of his journal.”
    “Did they reply?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    From her handbag she produced a letter. It was folded square, the creases so worn you could tell she’d folded and unfolded it many times. I could imagine her face when she read it, getting mad all over again. It wasn’t a long letter, and I read it quickly:
     
    Dear Miss de Vries,
    Thank you for your letter. Firstly, let us say how sorry we are to hear of the death of your grandfather. We wish you and your family the best in this trying time. We appreciate your taking the time to tell usabout your grandfather’s observations on his balloon voyage, namely the sighting of “some kind of winged mammal.”
    We feel strongly that should such a creature exist it would surely have been sighted and documented long ago. Every year there are hundreds of unsubstantiated sightings of monstrous creatures in land, air, and sea and we feel it is our duty as men of science to gently remind you that your grandfather was not trained, and in his state of health, he may have suffered additional deficiencies of observation.
     
    “Additional deficiencies of observation,’” Kate scoffed, reading over my shoulder. “They mean he was seeing things. Why don’t they call him a senile old goat!”
    I turned away a bit so I could finish the letter.
     
    Our suggestion to you would be to put your grandfather’s writings out of your mind and turn your interests elsewhere, to more comfortable young ladies’ pursuits.
     
    “Did you get to the ‘young ladies’ pursuits’ part?” she demanded.
    “Just now, yes.”
    “I suppose they mean darning socks and needlepoint or making iced butter balls for the dinner table.”
    “Most likely,” I said. “Can I just finish—”
    “You’re