Above The Clouds

by Richard Roberts

hunts, and how successful they'd been. Maybe they were warning Father that he'd been lucky with me so far. Maybe they were hinting that I was better than he thought. I didn't care. I just wanted them to stop talking.

  Eventually they did. Father had supper and went to bed. I was alone.

  The Chatter was silent, or at least no one was close enough to overcome the buzz. I swung down and then back up around the main band. No, nothing. So I looked up at the stars passing above me, no longer just specks but a painting I didn't understand. I listened higher and higher, hoping for a different voice.

  I passed the whale song. When it went quiet I asked, "Rosie?" I shifted up and down the band as I did, hoping.

  "You're back," she answered, soft and surprised.

  "I wanted to find out what you're thinking about tonight," I supplied. I didn't just want it, I needed it. I shouldn't be pretending to be a pilot to talk to another pilot, but Rosie's thoughts made the world bigger than my Father and my duty.

  I couldn't tell her all of that. I just had to hope she'd want to talk.

  She did. Slowly, like she was afraid, she answered, "I'm wondering what the whales talk about."

  "Do they talk? All they ever seem to do is float around, unless you get near them," I asked in surprise. Then guilt hit me. That sounded too harsh. Please, Rosie was the only person I couldn't afford to get mad at me. Don't let her think I was doubting her.

  "They sing. All around the world, they sing. Have you listened to it?" she asked. Slowly, but she hadn't shied away.

  "No. I've seen a lot of whales. I've hunted them, but when they screamed I didn't think… they might be saying something." It was an uncomfortable thought, but I wanted to think this way.

  "It's not just one song. They weave together. I listen to them all night, sometimes. It's not a simple noise, like the other animals make. I think they must be talking to each other, and I wonder what they have to say," she explained.

  "Nothing kind about us," I decided. Not the way we hunt them.

  "I don't know. They never attack unless you get very close. Maybe they're not stupid. Maybe they're just forgiving," she suggested.

  Could anyone be that forgiving, that gentle? Rosie, maybe.

  "I'm glad someone's listening to them sing," I told her.

  "I listen to other things, on the Chatter. There are two bands under the main band that people use to talk, in other languages I don't understand," she went on.

  That made sense. "The sky is a big place. I guess there had to be nations we don't even know."

  "Below them, way below, there's a whole range of bands I don't understand. It sounds like bubbling noises, and roaring, all mixed together in a huge mess. Way up, and something else is singing, something that's not the whales," she informed me.

  I didn't know what to say. I had to say something. Not just because she expected it. She had to know what it felt like, hearing her turn the world on its head like this, but I didn't know how to tell her. "Thank you, Rosie. I had no idea," was all I could say.

  Not all I could say. There were other things I could say, but shouldn't. But I had to. "Rosie, who are you?"

  "No one," she answered immediately. She sounded tired again.

  "No, I mean, I want to know more about you," I explained. I knew she'd try not to talk about it.

  "There's nothing to know. I'm not good at anything, Red. I'm not anybody. I'm just Rosie, who listens to the bands of the Chatter no one else does, and asks questions no one wants to hear. Except you." That last wasn't quite as flat as the rest. Yes, I wanted to hear them.

  "I'd still like to know about you. Your Mom flies an airship, doesn't she? What kind?" I pressed.

  "She's a courier. I suppose that makes me a courier, too. We fly on long trips with convoys. It lets me see the strange things the sky is full of, sometimes," she finally admitted.

  It was something. I wanted more, but I wanted to know what she'd seen. Instead, she asked me a question before I'd put mine together. "What do you do, Red?"

  Ah. I'd walked into this question. I couldn't lie to her. Lying to a pilot was uncomfortable enough to begin with, and not to Rosie. I couldn't tell her the truth, either. She'd never speak to me again. I couldn't lose her just as I'd found her.

  I settled for, "I'm with the Fleet. We're a combat squadron, although there hasn't been any combat since I joined."

  She sighed, but said nothing.

  "Rosie?" I asked, suddenly having to pay a lot of attention to my propellers to keep them from locking up. "What's wrong?"

  Please, tell me, Rosie. I need to know.

  "It's okay, Red," she assured me. She didn't sound like it was okay. She didn't sound angry. She sounded tired again.

  Then she added, "I already knew we couldn't be together."

  No. We couldn't. Even less than she knew.

  "Is there traffic on this channel?" a voice asked, distant and irritable.

  I shut the Chatter off, fast. What a moment to be interrupted.

  The next day, we reached the Eye. It's only a cloud, but it's the kind of cloud you put on maps. It never moved or dispersed. It hung in one place, shaped like a long, pointed oval. I'd seen it before. I'd never really looked at it. Now, thanks to Rosie, I did. It was pretty, with a dark upper and lower layer and a swirling pink interior. Lightning lit that inner surface, a glow that flicked back and forth. It did look like an eye, or maybe a lift tank.

  It's also big. The pilots discussed on the Chatter where would be the best hiding place they could use as cover, and which direction the target would come from. There wasn't much argument. Everyone agreed that underneath the near end would leave us almost invisible.

  There was one teeny tiny problem with that, except a whale is anything but teeny tiny.

  The whale wasn't the real problem. We didn't want to catch it, and a couple of cannon shells from long range would upset it enough to move away, but not enough to attack. The problem was the huge, dark shape curled up under the bell. The shark would not fly away peacefully when we disturbed its whale.

  We were still flying lead, so Father spotted it first. "Captain, there's a shark nesting in the whale. Spook the whale and get it running. Red Baron and I will handle the shark," he reported over the Chatter.

  "Manfred, by yourself?" Captain Todd sent back in shock.

  "Yes," was Father's entire answer. He rolled the accelerator forward, and we sped up. Cannon shots whistled overhead, bouncing off the whale's thick outer rim. It made a loud noise that echoed down into our Chatter band, and Father turned the speaker off.

  The whale's tentacles thrashed, but it moved away from the squadron. The dark shape under the bell wriggled in irritation, then slid out into the air.

  I'd never seen a shark. Not in person, not this close. A kite isn't quite as big as I am. The shark was huge, nearly as long as the whale, but much sleeker. It looped around in the air, at least as fluid as a kite. Kites didn't have a mouth I could fit inside, with all of those teeth.

  As we sped up faster and faster, Father angled us straight towards that massive, waving ribbon. Then he let go of the wheel and took a step back.

  "Father, what are you doing?" I asked nervously. More than nervously.

  As calm and stony as ever, he answered, "This is up to you, Red Baron. I'll handle the guns, but you have to out-fly it."

  "Father, an airship's not meant to be flown by just one person. I won't be fast enough!" I pleaded.

  "Then I'll die with you," he answered. That was that.

  There was too much to keep track of. I couldn't steer and keep track of all switches and instruments at once. If I didn't, Father would be killed.

  I couldn't let that happen.

  I didn't have time to worry about it. We were moving too fast, and the shark had stopped spinning around angrily and focused on us. That kind of mass shouldn't move as fluidly as a kite, but it darted from si
de to side with easy agility as it rushed up to meet us. If it had even a second to react it could match any move I made. The mouth gaped suddenly open in front of me, and I rolled hard to starboard, forcing Father to prop a foot on the wall to keep from falling as we swung around underneath. Then I rolled in the other direction, and the long body whipped across the spot I'd just been.

  If I hadn't thought of that, I'd be splinters and Father-

  No time. No time. The head circled around. I threw every lift tank to maximum and my rearmost fins barely cleared the body as we jerked up above the passing head. It couldn't circle around again that fast. It would tie itself in a knot.

  Father fired a cannon shot into its flank right behind its head as it passed. Blood sprayed, then floated on the breeze. Not even close to a fatal hit, but the thing shrieked, and I didn't need to hear it over the Chatter. It tried to spin around and come right at me again, but its own body was in the way. It thrashed, untangling itself from the loop it had almost formed. That gave me time to circle around behind it, sailing up towards its head from the back. That was our best chance at a deadly shot.

  The shark lurched, turning suddenly. I veered to follow, then veered away as it dived into the Eye itself.

  It took two seconds for the entire length of the shark to disappear into the churning clouds. Inside there, lightning must be savaging the beast. It wouldn't stay in there long. It-

  I slapped my lift tanks into ballast. I was just in time. The open maw of the shark lunged back out of the cloud, speeding towards where I'd just