Skybreaker (24 page)

“We’re leaving!” he called out.

We reached the forward ladder at the same time as Hal and Kate.

“Blowing a bit hard,” said Hal.

“Did you find anything?” I asked.

He shook his head and grunted. I didn’t care. I was looking at Kate. I half expected her to announce an engagement.

“Lead the way, Cruse,” Hal said. “We’ll wait this out on the
Saga
.”

I started climbing for the crow’s nest, the ladder swaying like a metronome as the ship pitched and fell. Beneath the observation dome I peered out at the sky and did not like what I saw.

As the wind pummelled the two ships, the
Saga
’s four coupling arms were stretching and compressing like springs. They managed to keep the two ships from colliding, but they were being sorely tested. The sky shrieked. The
Hyperion
was like a wild thing thrashing for its freedom.

Overhead I could see Kami Sherpa peering down from the
Saga
’s hatch, starting to lower the winch. The line came down askew, blown by the wind. A sudden gust cracked it like a lion tamer’s whip.

“Get the girls on first,” Hal said from the ladder. “Let’s be quick about this.”

“Make sure your harnesses are snug,” Dorje said. “I’ll take you out one at a time. Oxygen. Goggles. Get them on. Kate, you’re first.”

I made room for Kate beside me. She looked out at the maelstrom as she fumbled with her goggles.

“It’s going to be bumpy,” I said.

“I can see that.”

“Be careful,” I said, adjusting her mask for her.

She looked at me, a million miles away behind her goggles, and then Dorje opened the hatch. I crouched instinctively as the glacial sky hit us.

Dorje hooked his safety line to the rail, and Kate’s too. Side by side, hunched low, they made their way along the ship’s back. The wind was full of malice, beating at the ships. Dorje caught the winch cable and was about to hook Kate to it, when I saw one of the forward coupling arms jerk free of the
Hyperion
’s back. It had slipped its mooring cleat.

I pulled my mask from my mouth and shouted to Dorje with all my might, but the wind stole my words. I clipped my line to the safety rail and hurried out. The other forward coupling arm was bearing a double load now, and it could not last long.

I reached Dorje and pointed. Without saying a word, he left Kate in my care, and scuttled across to the loose coupling arm. As he pulled it back towards the mooring cleat, there was a snap loud enough to beat the wind’s howl, and the second forward coupling arm ripped its cleat right off the
Hyperion
’s back. Dorje held tight as he was lifted high into the air.

I could not leave Kate. We grasped the safety rail, terrified. There was another wrenching shudder, and I looked aft to see the two remaining coupling arms tear loose. We were free of the
Saga
now, and I saw her slide off into the sky
above us. Dorje, clinging to the mechanical arm, was carried away from us.

There was nothing to do but get back to the crow’s nest. With the ship rolling, we flattened ourselves against her back and crawled, praying the safety rail did not tear loose. Hal and Nadira were waiting to haul us inside.

The wind tearing at our faces, we peered up at the
Sagarmatha
.

“He’s all right,” Hal shouted, watching Dorje. “They’re bringing him in.”

I saw that the coupling arm carrying Dorje was slowly being retracted, and when it was alongside the Control Car, a window opened, and Dorje nimbly leapt inside.

The
Saga
dipped closer, but Hal started bellowing and waving his arm.

“No! Take her up! Take her up!”

They could not have heard his words, but they must have realized the same dreadful fact. It was far too windy to attempt another docking.

The four of us were marooned aboard the
Hyperion
.

W
E SLAMMED THE HATCH SHUT
and climbed back down to the axial catwalk.

“They’ll be back for us as soon as the gale blows itself out,” Hal said.

I said nothing. Nadira and Kate were breathing hard, struggling to keep their balance as the
Hyperion
heaved and trembled. We’d taken her captive only briefly, and now she was free once more and appeared to be revelling in the storm winds. She’s been through worse, I told myself. She’s spent forty years aloft, pummelled by the sky, and she’s survived. Ominous shrieks and groans wafted through the ship like the cries of a tortured man.

“When will the wind die down, do you think?” Kate asked Hal, trying to sound like she was just making polite conversation.

“Could be an hour …”

“Oh, that’s not so bad.”

“… or twelve. Dorje will keep us in sight, but he won’t try to dock unless it’s safe. If the
Saga
gets wrecked, we’re all finished. Is anyone hungry? I think Mrs. Ram packed us some sugared almonds and dried fruit.”

The ship lurched to port, and Kate staggered against me.

“We should find somewhere safer to wait this out,” I said.
“What about Grunel’s apartments? There are blankets if we get cold.”

“I’d rather not go back there,” Kate said with surprising firmness.

I looked from her to Hal. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Hal said, sounding exasperated. “Remember the sheet I threw over Grunel? When Kate and I went in, it fell off and gave her a bit of a fright.”

“It didn’t just fall off,” Kate objected. “My back was turned, and I heard a sound like someone ripping off the sheet. When I looked around, it was on the floor.”

I felt my scalp prickle.

“Things move aboard a ship,” Hal said. “Especially in storm conditions.”

“He’ll be tap dancing next,” said Nadira.

“Surely there’s somewhere else,” Kate insisted. “Preferably without dead people.”

Had it been left up to me, I would have stayed perched in the crow’s nest. It would be viciously cold, but at least there, I could see the open sky. I dreaded descending farther into the ship’s darkness.

“Somewhere with windows would be good,” I said. “That way we can save our torches for night. If it comes to that,” I added, seeing the alarm in Kate’s eyes.

“Why not his engineerium?” Nadira said. “We can finish searching it while we wait.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I said. “There’s a lot of
heavy equipment in there. I wouldn’t want any of that ripping free in the storm and crushing us.”

“It looked pretty well tethered to me,” Hal said. “Nadira’s right. We can put our time to good use and check it thoroughly. Seems Grunel spent most of his time squirrelled in there; that’s where he’d hide his riches. So far I’ve found nothing but the contents of the captain’s safe. Petty cash and the crew’s wages for three months.”

“That’s something at least,” I said.

“It’s not enough to repair even one of my engines.”

We climbed down the swaying ladder to the keel and worked our way aft, the catwalk pitching beneath us. We entered Grunel’s apartment to take as many blankets as we could carry from the linen cupboard. Though we did not go into the actual bedroom, I felt clammy just imagining him sitting on his reclining chair with his hollow cheeks and watchful eyes. I wondered if his sheet was on or off him.

Back on the catwalk, we stopped near one of the fresh water tanks and managed to chip away some icicles to suck. We were all very thirsty. But the icicles were so bitterly cold against my lips and tongue, it felt hardly worthwhile. We entered the engineerium and turned off our torches. I gazed up worriedly at Grunel’s immense telescope-like machine. Though it vibrated slightly in the bad gusts, it seemed anchored solidly to the floor—like every other piece of equipment in the room.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea,” Kate said, and sat down with her back against a crate.

Nadira pulled sugared nuts from her rucksack and offered them around. I handed out blankets, studying the girls’ faces, wondering how their strength was holding out.

Hal had walked off. Against one wall he’d found a ladder that ran on a track in front of the shelves. I left Kate and Nadira and made my way over to him. He tried a few times to climb the ladder but it was rolling back and forth too much. Eventually he gave up with a curse, and decided to forage with both feet on the ground. Really, he should have sat down, but I could tell he was in a dangerous mood. He needed to find something big.

Beyond the ship’s hull the wind screeched and whistled and thumped, wanting to be let in.

“I don’t think this is going to blow itself out soon,” I said.

“No,” he agreed.

“Would Dorje try to dock at night?” I asked.

“He’d wait till dawn’s light.”

He was infuriatingly calm, and I admired him, even as I tried to quell my own growing fear.

“If we’re here overnight,” I said, “it’s going to get even colder.”

Hal grunted. “We’re out of the wind at least.”

“I’m worried about the girls. If they start needing oxygen, we’ll run out.”

“They can share mine. I don’t need it.”

I went back to Kate and Nadira and told them I was going to make a fire. I needed to be doing something. I broke some
crate lids into kindling and arranged them on a piece of sheet metal. Inside the various crates was plenty of shredded paper and packing sawdust. That would catch fire easily enough.

“You’re a good man to have around in a shipwreck,” said Nadira.

“This isn’t a shipwreck,” Hal said jovially, taking a blanket and settling down beside Kate. “We’re still skyworthy. All we need to do is keep warm. Now, a trick you learn fast enough on Everest is to stay close and conserve body heat. He snuggled up beside Kate and waved for Nadira to come closer. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Trust me,” Hal said, “this is standard mountaineering practice. We stay warm, we stay alive.”

Nadira chose to sit beside Kate. Hal heaped more blankets around them. Kate smiled and seemed to be enjoying herself. My pulse beat hard and fast in my ears.

“Come on in, Cruse,” Hal said. “The more the merrier.”

“Where’s the butane torch?” I asked.

“Why? What’re you up to?”

“Making a fire.”

Hal shook his head. “Not with the ship pitching like this. Some embers spill and the fire gets out of control, we’re as good as sunk. Anyway, you won’t get much of a fire going in this thin air. Smoke is all you’ll make.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I felt a proper idiot.

“What we can do,” said Hal, “is make a brew.”

“What’s that?” Kate asked.

“It’s what we call making water on Everest. Go find a metal can now, and we’ll use the torch to melt some ice for drinking water.”

I started scouting around for a likely container, one that didn’t already hold some vile-looking chemical sludge. Make a brew, I muttered resentfully to myself. That’s what we call it on Everest. Of course Hal would know all about how to survive at high altitude. He was perfect. He was also right. We needed water. At these altitudes it was very easy to get dehydrated. Sucking snow or ice just wasn’t enough.

Beyond the large windows the sun still blazed, bobbing up and down as the ship cavorted through the storm. Near the enormous telescope machine, my eyes swept across the complicated control panel. I wished I knew what all those buttons and gauges meant. Hal might not give a toss, but I certainly did. I had a feeling that this was the machine Grunel had been labouring over when aloft. From the brass panel I brushed away some frost—and saw a keyhole. I stared.

“I think you should see this!” I called out to the others.

They threw off their blankets and joined me. The keyhole looked remarkably similar to the one in the doors to the dead zoo and engineerium.

“Well, isn’t this intriguing,” said Hal, casting his eye over the machine’s bulky lower regions. “Big enough for a vault, do you think?”

“You think it’s full of money?” I asked, surprised.

“Gold preferably,” remarked Nadira. She was already reaching into her hood to extract her key.

“Can’t see hinges anywhere,” Hal commented, shining his light all around the control panel. “If there’s a door, it’s well hidden.”

Nadira slid the key into the keyhole. By now she had learned all its tricks; she twisted and prodded until the key was fully inserted, then gave a complete turn.

All across the machine’s surface, lights silently blinked on. I heard a sudden gurgle of water and traced the sound to a pair of broad pipes running from the machine, up the wall to a large mounted tank.

“Should be frozen,” I muttered.

“What’s it doing?” Hal said, with the utmost suspicion.

Light suddenly filled the room as the hanging lamps along the ceiling snapped on. A drill came to life and made us all jump. I rushed over and managed to turn it off. There was a sharp crackling sound: along the baseboards was an electric heater, its coils slowly turning orange as they warmed up.

“He’s got electric hearths,” I said. There must have been others placed all round the chamber, for already I could feel a welcome current of milder air moving past my pinched face.

I rushed to the engineerium’s door and peered out into the dark catwalk.

“Nothing’s on out here,” I called back. Whatever was powering the lamps and heaters was confined to the engineerium.

“It must be a generator,” Kate said.

“But where’s it getting fuel?” Hal demanded.

“Some kind of battery,” I suggested.

“No battery holds its charge for forty years.”

“This one seems to,” Nadira said.

I’d done some reading on batteries in my electrics class. Most of those built in the early days were not very efficient, and they tended to give off poisonous fumes. I had a sniff and caught only a faint whiff of mangoes, which I assumed was leaking from the vivarium.

“Well, we’ve got light and heat,” Hal said. “And that’s the first bit of welcome news all day.”

Hal asked me to go and close the door so we didn’t lose the heat. I made sure there was a handle and keyhole on the inside, but even so, I felt a bit anxious when it slid shut. I didn’t trust Grunel’s doors and dreaded the idea of being entombed aboard his dead ship.

The heaters were working hard. It was still well below zero, but there is all the difference in the world between minus sixty and minus twenty.

Once Hal knew the machine wasn’t a bank vault, he lost interest. It gave him heat and light; he didn’t care to know how. He set about searching the engineerium again. Even as the ship continued to shudder and jolt, I knew we all felt more cheerful now that the room was well lit and warming up. Nadira didn’t look so pale. Kate seemed tired, but in good spirits. I was heartened to know we would not be facing the coming night with just our electric torches.

Nadira had been exploring the engineerium and came to a stop at the phrenology machine, with its many spidery arms.

“Thinking of having a go?” Kate asked pleasantly.

“You know, I think we should both have a go,” Nadira said with a smile. “What do you say? Since I’m no good at fortune-telling, maybe this can help predict our futures. Just for a lark!”

Nadira was being awfully friendly, but I wondered if there was just a hint of a challenge in her invitation. Certainly I wouldn’t have wanted to put my head in Grunel’s contraption. But Kate was never one to back away from anything.

“Why not?” she said brightly, walking over.

“We have better ways to pass the time,” said Hal, sounding annoyed. “Cruse, what about that water?”

“I don’t imagine this will take long,” Kate said. “Matt, can you come crank it up for us, please?”

“Who’s going first?” I asked, grasping the handle and turning.

“After you,” said Nadira to Kate.

“No, no, I insist,” said Kate, ushering Nadira towards the machine.

The stool must have had some kind of sensor, for the moment Nadira sat, a clockwork ticking emanated from inside the machine. Its many mechanical arms, each tipped with calipers, slowly unfolded, circling Nadira’s head. There was something decidedly menacing about them.

“Stay very still,” I said, reading the instructions on the side of the machine.

With a sudden jerk, the first set of calipers came down, and the two points jerkily adjusted themselves to the width of Nadira’s head and slowly began to revolve.

“It tickles actually,” said Nadira, biting her lips and trying not to giggle.

The first set of calipers withdrew. The mechanical spider above her head turned one way, then another, and a second pair of instruments dropped down and gripped another part of Nadira’s head. This time she winced as the points tweaked her ear. The calipers lifted away and now a thick rubber cap descended and covered the top of her skull. Through the rubber I could see odd little knuckles kneading Nadira’s head quite firmly.

“It feels like someone’s got their fingers all over me,” she said.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“It’s rather nice. Could be a bit gentler though.”

While the rubber cap was massaging her skull, two more pairs of calipers dropped down on either side of her head. For a moment they looked like they were going to veer into her ears, but at the last second they twirled off to one side and began measuring her temples. One arm of the calipers caught in her hair and began twisting it into a knot, tighter and tighter.

“Ow!” she cried, pulling away and getting jabbed on the other side. The rubber cap seemed to tighten its grip on her skull, the metal knuckles kneading more furiously than before.

I tried to untangle her hair, but the little prongs were stubborn and surprisingly strong, and I could not stop them from turning and yanking.

Nadira struggled to stand, but the rubber cap pushed down hard and kept her locked in her seat.

“I’ve had enough,” she said. “Turn it off.”

Hal, watching from a distance, just laughed, but I could tell Nadira was alarmed. Kate and I started tugging and pulling at the arms of the mechanical spider, and trying to pry the cap off her head.