Starclimber Read Free Page A

minutes.”
    The tick faltered a few seconds, then resumed. I had no idea whether it meant we had more time, or whether the infernal device was still keeping track of the seconds and meant to surprise us.
    “What if we just rip out the clock?” Hassan suggested.
    “That might set it off,” I said. I knew nothing about explosives, but I didn’t fancy my chances tugging at wires.
    “I want off this ship!” bellowed Andrew.
    “There’s no point!” I said. “We can’t climb down in time.”
    “Who said anything about climbing!”
    At the same moment all our eyes fell on Christophe’s parawing pack.
    “Sorry lads,” said Andrew, springing on it. “It’s only good for one.” He looked at me, a little shamefaced. “And the captain goes down with the ship anyway, right?”
    He still had the pistol, and though he did not point it at us, I didn’t trust him. Hassan and I watched as he buckled on the pack.
    “You know how to use that?” I asked. I couldn’t bear him much ill will. Someone might as well get clear in time.
    “I’ll take my chances. Good luck.”
    He jumped out the open bay doors. I saw his wings deploy, and he careened crazily around the girders before colliding with one, hard. The blow seemed to knock him out, for his head lolled and his wings crumpled, and he fell, bouncing from one girder to the next on his fatal plunge to earth.
    I wasted no more time. “Cut the grappling lines,” I told Hassan. “There’s a knife in the emergency locker.”
    I ran forward to the helm. Even up front I could hear the bomb’s wheezing. I started the engines, and the propellers quickly accelerated into a satisfying drone.
    “We’re cut loose!” Hassan shouted, running up front. “What’s our plan?”
    “Dump it in the drink.” On the southern fringe of the Bois de Vincennes was an ornamental lake.
    “Will we make it?”
    “We’ll make it. Take the elevator wheel.”
    “I’ve never flown!”
    “There’s nothing to it.”
    I pushed the throttle and gripped the rudder wheel. There was no time to try to ease out backward. Our only way out was straight through. Before us was a narrow passage that would bring us out the far side of the pier. I opened the throttle. Girders hurtled past us, the underside of the platform streaking overhead.
    “Just hold her steady, Hassan—you’re doing very well.”
    He stood, shoulders hunched up around his ears, staring straight ahead with wide eyes.
    I saw the opening coming up, a narrow slat of brighter light. We were straying a little too high, and before I could ask Hassan to correct our altitude, there was an awful ripping sound from the ship’s back. Warning lights flashed on the ballast board. We’d torn most of our gas cells, but there was no time to worry about that now.
    Suddenly we were through the pier but still underneath the tower’s first platform. I reached over and gave the elevator wheel a swift turn so we dipped sharply, and shot beneath one of the tower’s colossal arches—and then we were out!
    “Bring us back up now, Hassan,” I said.
    Aerotugs glided all around, seeming to move incredibly slowly. I weaved among them, banking sharply and climbing as I took us out toward the park and lake.
    “There it is!” shouted Hassan.
    “How much time’s left?”
    Hassan ran aft to check. “Two minutes and a bit!” he shouted. “Wait, it’s stopped…no, it’s going again!”
    My own heart was beating crazily now. The wind was light, and I lined the Atlas up so we’d pass directly over the lake, then tied off the rudder wheel and hurried back to help Hassan.
    Together we shoved the crate gently to the edge of the bay doors. I had no idea how sensitive the thing was and held my breath, fearing we might set it off. We peered down at the park-land—the people sitting on benches, the children playing—and waited breathlessly for the water. Where was the lake?
    Uh-hunh-uh-hunh-uh-hunh….
    Silence.
    I looked over at the clock. The minute