Starclimber by Kenneth Oppel

Author:Kenneth Oppel [Oppel, Kenneth]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Social Issues, Young adult fiction, Outer space - Exploration, Action & Adventure, Science Fiction, SteamPunk, Juvenile Fiction, Adventure and Adventurers, Fantasy & Magic, General, Fantasy, Interpersonal Relations, Exploration, Airships, Adventure Stories, Outer space, Fiction, Adolescence
ISBN: 9780060850586
Publisher: HarperTeen
Published: 2008-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

LIFTOFF

The hangar roof was already open to the luminous dawn sky. There were virtually no clouds, and the wind was light. Tobias, Shepherd, and I were overseeing the final cargo, double-checking our lists to make sure nothing had been left out—and nothing unidentified got on. General Lancaster’s men were out in full force, inspecting everything inside and outside the ship. I was glad of my uniform, for it made me look more confident than I felt. The uniform was armor.

Near the gangway, Chef Vlad was loudly complaining to a soldier about the way he was loading the food. Mr. Lunardi came over to soothe the volatile chef, while Captain Walken and Dr. Turgenev made their final inspection of the Starclimber’s exterior. Miss Karr was busily setting up her camera equipment near the gangway, Haiku leaping about excitedly on her shoulder. Kate and Sir Hugh were arguing about whether to bring a large specimen cage.

“We’re ready to board,” Captain Walken finally announced.

“This is a great moment,” said Mr. Lunardi. “To my brave astralnauts, and our illustrious passengers, I wish you a glorious and safe journey. Godspeed.”

As everyone filed up the gangway, Miss Karr’s camera flashed again and again, commemorating the occasion.

“History in the making!” she said, though I thought there was a hint of mischief in her voice. “It reminds me of those glorious images of people boarding the Titanica.”

“Come now, Miss Karr,” the captain said genially, “I won’t hear such superstitious stuff aboard my ship. I think we have enough photos now, don’t you? Let me help you with your tripod, and let’s get you settled on B-Deck.”

I was the last to board, for it was my duty to shut the main hatch. I heaved the great circular door closed on its vast hinges, and it locked snugly. All sounds of the outside disappeared abruptly: the noise of the ground crew in the hangar, the bird-song, the powerful crash of the surf through the open roof.

It was like putting the space helmet over my head that very first time, and I felt a sudden flare of panic. I’d just been cut off from the world. I could see it through the porthole, could see Mr. Lunardi giving me the thumbs-up before walking off to the radio room. But the world was somehow no longer mine. I wouldn’t see it again, or breathe its air, until we returned to harbor in three weeks—if we returned at all. I thought of the mysterious lights; I thought of ticking crates in our cargo hold.

I took several deep breaths and looked across the rack that held our four space suits. Across the chest of each was stitched a name. WALKEN. SHEPHERD. BLANCHARD. CRUSE. I touched my suit. Had it not been for a split second of foolishness, it would have been Bronfman’s name on it.

“If you’re ready, Mr. Cruse, we’ve got a ship to take airborne.”

I turned to see Captain Walken waiting for me in the airlock doorway, smiling.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m delighted to have you on my crew again, Mr.

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