Gossamer Wing Read Free Page B

called
Gossamer Wing
, she hadn’t understood how it could possibly do all its inventor claimed. It looked more fantasy than machine.
    Indeed, she thought as she made a minute adjustment to starboard and began the steep climb to cruising altitude, the miniature airship was her fantasy embodied, for all it was a technological marvel. One of her fantasies, at any rate.
    A pity it must remain invisible to all but a few, and unknown to most. That was its purpose, however: high-altitude surveillance, nearly undetectable to the naked eye or even the average spyglass. That, and undetectable second-story work. Charlotte hoped to become the first field agent to use the vehicle in France, gathering information in an entirely new way, going where others could not. And then, assuming her superior in Le Havre approved the final mission, she might even use the
Gossamer Wing
to help prevent the French from developing a weapon that was almost guaranteed to bring war back to the globe.
    Charlotte’s ears clicked and she glanced at the altimeter, knowing she was near five thousand feet up even before the gauge confirmed it. Easing her angle of ascent, she smiled at the soft chime that marked another thousand feet of altitude above baseline. Her new inner ears were no less a wonder than the
Gossamer Wing
, and they allowed her to enjoy this part of her work in a way she’d never anticipated.
    Silence. It was so rare, so precious. Even an empty house was never truly silent. There were always servants, guests, the nagging voice of one’s own determined conscience. There was always the overwhelming absence, roaring at her by omission, reminding her the house she lived in had been meant for a family. That it was her husband’s house, and he had died before she even learned to be a proper wife to him.
    Reaching for the valve to her left, Charlotte cut the gas feed to the silken blimp and relaxed her legs within the rigging. Floating suspended, easy as a cloud, like a waking dream of effortless flight. The chill air swept through her, swept her clean, swept away all the doubts that gathered like so much dust while her feet were on the ground.
    “
Shhhhh-ch
clear today but
shhhhhh-whoosh-ch-ch-ch
devil are you, Charlotte?”
    She chuckled as she toggled the microphone switch. For all his many years of experience in the field, her father was still terrible at radio communications, always forgetting to hold the transmitter button down as he spoke.
    “I’m directly over your house, sir. In fact”—she swiveled her jaw to the right, nudging the ocular control to zoom in on the ground below, raking her gaze over the scene until she found what she was looking for—“you’re wearing that red cravat I like. Very dashing, but you have crumbs in your beard.”
    “Bloody
chhhhhh-shhhh
.”
    Her laugh overloaded the microphone, creating a moment of sharp feedback. Charlotte cursed and jerked her head at the sound, ruining her focus and causing her to bobble downward. The ringing vibration and sudden shift in position made her head and stomach swim for several moments, and she had to clench her teeth to keep her breakfast kippers from making an unwanted reappearance.
    “Remember thou art mortal,” she chided herself. An airship, particularly one as tiny and responsive as this one, was no place for tomfoolery.
    “Godlike aspirations, my dear? Perhaps it’s time you came down to earth.”
    That
had come through loud and clear, at least.
    “Presently. I’m still testing the controls on the new helmet. I need my mouth for that. I’ll speak to you when I’m down.” After toggling the radio off, she put the proof to her words by gripping the flat leather tab between her teeth and giving an experimental tug. A whirr sounded and a gray-violet filter snicked into place over the ocular’s primary lens. The world jumped into sharp contrast below her. Another tug, and a glare filter darkened the view. Charlotte thought such a filter might be especially