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makeup was smeared by tears and wind, and there were deep red rings around both her eyes from the goggles. She appeared altogether crazed. I was pushing the boarding stairs toward the ornithopter, but not quickly enough for her liking.
    “Hurry along, boy. Help me out of here! This thing’s not fit for use as a kite!”
    Now this was rich behavior, I thought, all this barking and whining, when she should be apologizing for setting us behind schedule with her late arrival.
    “Welcome aboard the Aurora , ma’am,” I said, stepping up to give her a hand.
    “And you are?”
    “Matt Cruse, ma’am, cabin boy.”
    “Attend to Miss de Vries now.”
    I turned to the passenger in the middle seat. A girl, my age probably, no more than fifteen. She pulled off her cap and smoothed her long mahogany hair. She looked a little windblown, her face pale, but there was a happy blaze in her eyes. I knew instantly it hadn’t been her shrieking as the ornithopter came in to land. She looked thoroughly revved up.
    I offered her my hand, and she stepped out onto the boarding stairs.
    “Thank you, Mr. Cruse,” she said.
    “This is Miss Kate de Vries,” said the woman, still trying to claw her hair down. “And I am Marjorie Simpkins, her chaperone. Escort us to our rooms now.”
    “Very good,” I said. “I’ll just attend to your baggage.”
    Kate de Vries, I noticed, was looking around, out the open bay doors to the sea below, up to the girders and beams and gas cells and catwalks that crisscrossed overhead like the work of some giant mechanical spider. Taking it all in. Miss Simpkins meanwhile fussed and fluttered about, telling me to be careful with the luggage and the hat bags and for heaven’s sake don’t thump things around so. She pattered her hands against Kate de Vries’s back, trying to move her this way and that, as though she knew where it was best for her to stand. Kate de Vries seemed used to ignoring her.
    I took the passenger list from my pocket and saw that the grand stateroom was in fact reserved under the name of de Vries. Rich, then, this Kate de Vries. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her, though, shackled to a chaperone and one like Miss Simpkins at that!
    They had so much luggage I wondered if they were doing a planetary tour. It was too much to carry, so I loaded it onto the freight conveyor belt and sent it on its way forward to the passenger quarters. I’d pick it up when we got there.
    “Shall I take you to your stateroom, then?” I asked, making sure to direct the question to Kate de Vries.
    “Thank you, yes, that would be very kind,” she said.
    “I’ll be telegraphing your superiors as soon as I can!” Miss Simpkins hollered at the ornithopter pilot.
    “Thank you very much,” Kate de Vries called up to the pilot with a smile and wave. “It was a thrilling flight!”
    “Any time, miss,” the pilot said, grinning. He had not even removed his leather hood and goggles. “I’ll be on my way while the wind holds.”
    He started the engine, and I heard its loud insect drone. The trapeze lifted his ship up and carried it back toward the open hatchway. The wings fluttered ever so gently in anticipation.
    “Actually, I’d like to see this, Marjorie,” said Kate de Vries, stopping to watch. Her tone of voice made it clear this was not a request. Miss Simpkins sighed loudly and stared heavenward. I was pleased about this, since I’d wanted to see the takeoff myself. I was liking Kate de Vries more and more.
    Mr. Riddihoff worked his controls and lowered the ornithopter down through the hatchway.
    The pilot gave him the thumbs-up and pulled a lever in the cockpit. His docking hook snapped off the trapeze. The ornithopter dropped, quite dramatically I must say, straight down toward the waves, wings flapping desperately. It seemed its plunge would never stop, but then, impossibly slowly, it inched forward through the air and peeled off to the port, climbing. I realized I’d been holding my