Chapter 1
Among the great city states in the sky, no Guild is more respected than the Aviators’, who pilot the colossal airships which ply their trade along the air streams that knit civilization together.
In recent history, no pilot is more famous than my mother, Eve Swift, Aviatrix, and one-time Mayor of New Frisco, who mysteriously disappeared on an archaeological expedition to discover what happened to Earth’s land dwellers, leaving me, her infant daughter orphaned.
The day of my sixteenth birthday, I slam the door of the orphanage behind for the last time and breathed in the freedom of adulthood – at last I am my own person. The air is crisp and cold, as always at this altitude.
Time to put into action my long cherished plan. It is also the day I receive two packages in the post: one a mysterious brown-paper parcel from my uncle Felix and the other a slim envelope from the Aviator’s guild.
Frantically, I tear open the envelope to extract the small card inside. I catch a whiff of fresh ink as I turn the smooth card over and over in my hand. As expected, now I am sixteen, the card names me as a junior Aviatrix: licensed to pilot small airships. The first and lowest rung on my piloting career. To me it is like gold and my heart sings. Without it my plan will fail at the first hurdle.
I kiss the card in triumph, slot it carefully into the leather wallet provided and pocket it in my flight jacket – the adventure begins.
Scooping up the package, I toss it carelessly into my shoulder bag, unopened – no time now, I have work to do. I hoist the bag onto my shoulder and rush down the street to my crucial meeting at the Square Balloon café, stopping only to make my very first financial transaction.
Now the orphanage no longer controls the legacy left by my Mother, I can spend what is left of it how I like. And what a magnificent purchase it is – the second stage in my plan.
Back in the street, now blossoming with early morning commuters, airships cruised, busily in the sky above me, plying their trade, untroubled by my dreams.
I stride across the rope bridge joining my residential area to the city centre, my boots clunking on the wooden planks of the swaying bridge. When I was young I used to jump up and down to make as much noise as I could. The staff at the orphanage would tell me off for making the bridges rock wildly, but I didn’t care, I just loved the sense of motion and the wonder of being suspended in mid-air with nothing below me for miles.
Far below, through the cloudless sky, I can see the ruins an ancient roadway, slashing through the dense green forest like some unhealed wound. Sometimes I wonder at the sudden disappearance of the land dwellers who possessed the ability to build a road that could outlive then by centuries. But not today. For now, my mind is focused on achieving my plans and what the future might hold.
The future holds so many possibilities; I can do great things, and I will.
I stop to examine myself in a shop window: tall, slender, auburn haired. Dressed and booted in my leather flying gear, some would call me striking – I call it angular. I’ve taken enough care with my appearance today to wow the boys.
When seeking to drive a hard bargain, looks are just another weapon in a girl’s armoury.
Leaving the shop, I trot on towards town before settling into a vigorous stride
I could say I walk with a spring in my step, but I always walk this way – I guess I’m just one of nature’s optimists. Today, I feel like I’m floating on air, in fact, I’m so light hearted I actually skip as I enter the central plaza. I cast around quickly to see if anyone has noticed my childishness, but to my relief they are all too busy minding their own business.
Just outside the Square balloon café stands the statue of my mother, Eve Swift: Mayor, explorer, aviatrix. In many ways she looks like me, but full of contradictions I don’t possess – both flirty and stern at the same time.
There were no grey areas with my Mother: you either loved her or hated her. Even after all these years, there are still people who talk about her with great affection, and an equal number who loath her. Not that I had a chance to do either, of course – she was gone before I had a chance to even know her.
I remember the day she left. She said I was special, 'There aren't many little girls like you about,' she said, ‘one day you will change the world.’
As she sailed out of my life forever she mouthed the words, 'Remember, you are very special.' Yeah, right, but not so special she would stay with me, and love me, like any normal Mother.
I entered the Square Balloon, a favourite hang-out for us apprentices from the Aviator’s Guild. Compared to the bright sunlight outside, the café looks dark and bland. Polished bare boards gleam under my feet and pictures of famous airships, aviators, and aviatrix’s line the walls in an attempt to brighten things up. The tangy smell of coffee and the sweet smell of chocolate battled in the air. I inhale deeply – it’s like coming home.
I order my usual: hot chocolate, no cream, a light sprinkling of chocolate flakes.
Scud and Fernando are already seated round a window table, flight jackets hung on the back of their chairs; getting to know each other, though they aren’t saying much, which is no surprise. Hot mugs steam in front of them on the scrubbed wooden table – strong black coffee for Fernando, chocolate for Scud.
Fernando stares unwaveringly at Scud, which causes Scud to look anywhere except directly at Fernando.
I take a deep breath, ‘Hi, guys.’ Now for stage three of my plan….