day’s shipping news was posted. Here you could find the name of every vessel in port, her captain, cargo, berth, engine size. I knew what I was after. A powerful tug with plenty of engines that could haul the
Hyperion
back to earth. But none of the information posted on the boards would tell me if the ship was capable of high flight. I was doubtful we could even find such a ship.
“I’ve got an interesting lead,” Nadira said, suddenly beside me.
No hello, no sign of relief that I’d actually shown up. Gone were the trousers and leather overcoat. She was swathed in a beautiful orange sari, and I must say, she looked altogether dazzling in it.
“You’ve been busy,” I muttered.
“I saw no point waiting. I didn’t know if you’d come. There’s a ship at berth 32.”
“A tug?” I asked.
“Salvage ship. The clerk said it had set some sort of record for above-cloud flying.”
“Really?” I scarcely knew whether to believe it.
“According to the shipping news,” Nadira said, “she’s not going anywhere this week. And the name’s promising too.”
“What’s that?”
“The
Sagarmatha
,” she said. “It’s the Nepalese word for—”
“Everest. I know.”
“We should go look at her.”
She knew enough to call a ship a “she,” and I wondered if she’d spent a lot of time around harbours and airships. She certainly seemed to have no fear of rooftop acrobatics. I remembered the way she’d surfed down the slate, pirouetted round the weather vane, and launched herself through the garret window. It was quite something.
We left the swirling crowds of the harbourmaster’s office and set off for berth 32.
“How were you planning on paying for the charter?” I asked her.
“I wasn’t.”
I stopped. “Then what were you planning?”
“We offer the captain a cut.”
This was certainly preferable to spending all my savings.
“How big a cut?” I asked.
“I thought you weren’t interested in money,” she remarked.
“Oh, I’ve changed my tune.”
“I was thinking fifty percent,” she said.
That didn’t seem unreasonable, since he was putting up the ship and the fuel, and bearing a huge weight of the risk.
“And how were you planning on splitting the rest?” I asked.
“Half and half.”
“Fine.” If there were millions on board, as everyone seemed to think, there’d be enough for everyone. “But I want all the taxidermy.”
“The what?” she asked.
“Dead animals, stuffed.” I cleared my throat. “Apparently Grunel had quite a big collection aboard.”
“You’re welcome to it,” she said.
“Thank you. We need to be careful. We better make sure we trust the captain and crew. That key around your neck is easily stolen.”
“Only from my dead body,” she said.
“They might not have a problem with that,” I told her.
“What about you? Once you tell them the coordinates, what’s to stop them from tumbling you out the hatchway at ten thousand feet?”
I thought for a moment. “Well, it would be awfully poor manners.”
I think she smiled, but I wasn’t sure. “We need to find someone with impeccable manners then.”
Berth 32 was inside the new heliodrome, at the north end of the aeroport. All of Paris was buzzing about the heliodrome because it had just been officially named the largest man-made structure on earth. Its vast dome rose up over the aeroport like some enormous mosque, with minaret control towers soaring from its four corners. Within, it offered protected mooring for countless airships.
We stepped inside. The ceiling was so high you could be forgiven for thinking it was the vault of heaven itself. Enormous retractable doors on all sides allowed airships to enter and exit wherever the winds were most favourable. One was just coming in now, a mid-sized liner called the Pompeii, which was being walked in by the ground crew. The Pompeii was six hundred feet long, but within the heliodrome, she looked like a child’s toy.
A network of
Hyperion
back to earth. But none of the information posted on the boards would tell me if the ship was capable of high flight. I was doubtful we could even find such a ship.
“I’ve got an interesting lead,” Nadira said, suddenly beside me.
No hello, no sign of relief that I’d actually shown up. Gone were the trousers and leather overcoat. She was swathed in a beautiful orange sari, and I must say, she looked altogether dazzling in it.
“You’ve been busy,” I muttered.
“I saw no point waiting. I didn’t know if you’d come. There’s a ship at berth 32.”
“A tug?” I asked.
“Salvage ship. The clerk said it had set some sort of record for above-cloud flying.”
“Really?” I scarcely knew whether to believe it.
“According to the shipping news,” Nadira said, “she’s not going anywhere this week. And the name’s promising too.”
“What’s that?”
“The
Sagarmatha
,” she said. “It’s the Nepalese word for—”
“Everest. I know.”
“We should go look at her.”
She knew enough to call a ship a “she,” and I wondered if she’d spent a lot of time around harbours and airships. She certainly seemed to have no fear of rooftop acrobatics. I remembered the way she’d surfed down the slate, pirouetted round the weather vane, and launched herself through the garret window. It was quite something.
We left the swirling crowds of the harbourmaster’s office and set off for berth 32.
“How were you planning on paying for the charter?” I asked her.
“I wasn’t.”
I stopped. “Then what were you planning?”
“We offer the captain a cut.”
This was certainly preferable to spending all my savings.
“How big a cut?” I asked.
“I thought you weren’t interested in money,” she remarked.
“Oh, I’ve changed my tune.”
“I was thinking fifty percent,” she said.
That didn’t seem unreasonable, since he was putting up the ship and the fuel, and bearing a huge weight of the risk.
“And how were you planning on splitting the rest?” I asked.
“Half and half.”
“Fine.” If there were millions on board, as everyone seemed to think, there’d be enough for everyone. “But I want all the taxidermy.”
“The what?” she asked.
“Dead animals, stuffed.” I cleared my throat. “Apparently Grunel had quite a big collection aboard.”
“You’re welcome to it,” she said.
“Thank you. We need to be careful. We better make sure we trust the captain and crew. That key around your neck is easily stolen.”
“Only from my dead body,” she said.
“They might not have a problem with that,” I told her.
“What about you? Once you tell them the coordinates, what’s to stop them from tumbling you out the hatchway at ten thousand feet?”
I thought for a moment. “Well, it would be awfully poor manners.”
I think she smiled, but I wasn’t sure. “We need to find someone with impeccable manners then.”
Berth 32 was inside the new heliodrome, at the north end of the aeroport. All of Paris was buzzing about the heliodrome because it had just been officially named the largest man-made structure on earth. Its vast dome rose up over the aeroport like some enormous mosque, with minaret control towers soaring from its four corners. Within, it offered protected mooring for countless airships.
We stepped inside. The ceiling was so high you could be forgiven for thinking it was the vault of heaven itself. Enormous retractable doors on all sides allowed airships to enter and exit wherever the winds were most favourable. One was just coming in now, a mid-sized liner called the Pompeii, which was being walked in by the ground crew. The Pompeii was six hundred feet long, but within the heliodrome, she looked like a child’s toy.
A network of
Similar Books
