This is from Airborn. Pretty much everything belongs to Kenneth Oppel.

It was half past ten, and Kate de Vries was waiting at the grand piano in the starboard lounge of the Aurora. Scattered about the room, other passengers reclined in chairs, full of breakfast. None of them seemed at all interested in the tour; perhaps they had been on other airships that had done the tour also -they might have done it already. Or perhaps they were just too lazy to sit up off their fat rear ends, not at all curious about the ship. Oh well, Kate would just have to ask more questions.

From through the door walked the young man who had carried their luggage and took them to their rooms. Mr. Matt Cruse, no more than sixteen years old. He sported an ironed white shirt and a black jacket. His dark hair was smoothed down nicely.

At the moment, Marjorie, Kate's chaperon was sleeping soundly in their stateroom. She had been complaining of tropical headache. Not feeling obligated to disturb her peaceful slumber, Kate had left a note explaining where she was. Best to keep her unworried.

"Is the tour still on?" Kate asked. "I seem to be the only one."

His eyes strayed around the room, looking for signs of life. The other passengers may as well have been sleeping considering the way they hardly moved. Actually, some had drifted off...

"Yes," he said, turning his attention back to his client. "Of course I'll be offering the tour. Is Miss Simpkins-"

"She's out cold," Kate said, giving a small smile. It was much better that way. "Right after breakfast she said she had a splitting headache and needed to lie down."

"Very good then."

After waiting a few minutes, making sure none of the other passengers cared to join the tour, they set off, just the two of them. Matt looked a tinge sour, and Kate wondered if anything had happened.

Stopping, he explained that they were on A-Deck, and how they were leaving North America and taking a route over the Pacificus. They strolled through the writing and reading room, light spilling through the lounge windows. Wicker furniture and little desks with blotters and inkwells and specialty Aurora stationary were fashionably scattered about. After that, there was the first-class reception room, where apparently guests could gather and order drinks before and after meals.

Clattering could be heard from the dining room, which seemed to be being prepared for lunch. As they passed, Kate saw a crewmember wink at Matt. Mr. Cruse was lucky, for he seemed to fit in perfectly here. She could tell that he loved his work. Kate knew what she wanted to do, but it was just incredibly difficult to get.

Kate paid apt attention to the young cabin boy, he spoke of the ship's history, technical details, and lore. It was all incredibly interesting and Kate simply could not imagine why non of the other passengers were even a little interested.

"What a grand ship this is," she said.

Matt took her to the gymnasium, which sported exercise camels, rowing machines, and other advanced training devices meant to strengthen ones muscles. It did not seem to be overly used, though this morning there were a few younger men, dressed in striped exercise kits. They did sit-ups and crunches and knee bends, grunting unattractive manly encouragements to each other.

Further along, they came to the cinema, which Mr. Cruse said to be rare on airships. Lumiere's latest epic was on show, Gilgamesh. Matt gestured for Kate to peek her head past the velvet curtain.

"I shall have to ask Miss Simpkins to accompany me to that later," she said. "It seems very exciting.

At the end of A-Deck was the smoking room. Matt opened the padded leather door and winced at the pall of cigar fumes. He must have disliked the smell as much as Kate did.

"Would you care to step inside?" he asked politely.

"No, thank you," Kate replied, trying to keep from gagging.

"There are some very fine Deppressionist paintings on display."

"I can live without those."

Past the smoking room door, he lead her down the grand staircase to B-Deck. The lounge and reception rooms were much the same as the ones on A-Deck, though not as large or lavish. There was also the officer's and crew's mess. After that, Matt took a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocked a door that lead to the rest of the ship.

He lead Kate along a catwalk, heading aft. "If you want to move on, miss, seeing you've experienced this part of the ship," he asked, "we most certainly can."

"That's alright. I'd very much like to hear what you have to say," she assured him. She listened with enthusiasm as he pointed out the seemingly countless tanks of ballast and water that lined the ship.

What caught Kate's attention were the giant cells that hung shimmering just above their heads. There must have been at least twenty.

"They're beautiful," she exclaimed. "What are they made of?"

"It's called goldbeater's skin." Wonderful!

"That's a wonderful name."

He smiled. " It's membrane from cows' intestines, actually. Specially treated to make it impermeable to gas."

Kate was not revolted in the slightest. "It must have taken a great many cows," she commented solemnly. They had given their lives for the sake of this ship. Or rather, their lives had been taken for the sake of this ship. "How many gas cells are there?"

"Twenty." Only twenty?

"They really are huge," she said. Then, sniffing, asked, "Is that mangoes?"

"You've got a good nose, miss," Matt said, and Kate glowed at his complement. "That's the hydrium itself. You can always smell it very faintly, but if it gets any stronger, you know there's a leak somewhere. In the control car, there's a special board that tells you the pressure of all the gas cells. But the sailmakers' noses are even more sensitive. They patrol the corridors and shafts twenty-four hours a day to make sure every square foot of sail is shipshape. Look."

He pointed up through a swath of steel beams and wires.

"That's the axial catwalk up there- do you see it? It runs directly overhead the keel catwalk, right through the ships center, form her nose all the way back to her tail. The gas cells hang past it on both sides, like walls. It's a bit like walking along a tunnel up there."

"And higher still," Kate asked, interested.

"The gas cells go all the way to the top, and there are vents to the outside, in case we need to vent some hydrium."

"Why would you need to do that?"

"Well, either to lose some altitude or because we're beyond pressure height."

"What's that?"

"Pressure height? Oh, the higher we get, the lower the outside air pressure, so beyond a certain height, the hydrium is at a higher pressure than the air."

"Ah, so the hydrium would expand," Kate said, understanding. It was all very intriguing, and Matt seemed to know all about it.

"Yes, which would rupture the gas cells, so we sometimes have to vent some."

"And the outside of the ship, what's it made of?"

"Fabric, stretched tight across the alumiron skeleton."

Because that wasn't at all disconcerting. "Fabric? That's all?"

"Cotton actually. But it's been specially treated so it's waterproof and fireproof too.

"That's reassuring, I suppose. And where does that go?" she asked pointing to a ladder off to the right.

"The axial catwalk," he told her. "There are three ladders that go up. And from there, you've got ladders to the crow's nests, one fore, one aft."

"Really?" Kate said, intrigued. "What a view that must be." If only she could get up there, perhaps she may see whatever it was her grandfather had.

"Especially on a clear night, with the stars and all."

"You must know all their names by now."

He laughed a wonderful laugh. "Maybe so."

"Can we go up?"

"Afraid not, miss. It's crew only up there."

"Oh." Her spirits sunk to the floor.

"Are those the engines?" Kate asked, tying to divert the conversation, as the sound of propellers became loud.

Matt nodded. "You probably saw them when you boarded. There's two on either side. I'll show you." He turned off, and at the end of the passageway, Kate could see a small rectangle of blue sky and sea. A ladder with railing led down from the Aurora's hatchway.

"Very noisy!" Kate shouted to Matt.

"Imagine working inside," he hollered back. "The machinists have special leather helmets to block the sound." He looked as if to add something else, but decided against it.

"It looks like it could just snap off," Kate remarked as they walked away from the engine and it's noisy drone.

"The engine cars are welded on," he said, shrugging, "as much a part of Aurora as what we're standing on."

"I won't think about that too much," Kate said, amazed by his nonchalant attitude. "It doesn't bother you at all does it! You seem born to this."

"You're right there- I was born on an airship."

Kate's eyes widened visibly, delighted. She liked how easily they seemed to talk. Perhaps it was how close in age they were.

"You weren't," she exclaimed. "You're pulling my leg!"

"I'm not," he assured her, smiling. "My parents came over from Europe during the Great Immigration. Not on a ship like this, mind you. A freighter it was, all of us crammed in one atop another. My mother was pregnant, but I wasn't due for another month, so they thought it was safe. But I came early, halfway over the Atlanticus."

"Your poor mother," Kate said. "Was she alright?"

"She was, lucky for her. And I was too. One of the other passengers was a midwife and another a medical student, and together they managed things. Tiny I was, light as a feather."

"And you've been aloft ever since?" she asked, enthralled.

"Well, only the last three years, really. But I grew up hearing all about it from my father. When we got to North America, it was hard for him to find work. We went all the way across the country till we landed in Lionsgate City, and he got a job with the Lunardi line, started out on one of their cargo ships."

"Oh," said Kate. "But he must've been away a great deal."

'He was. But he wrote us, and on shore leave he would be home with use. And he'd tell stories."

"Like what?"

Matt took a deep breath. "He went everywhere. Saw all the wonders of the world it seemed. All I could think about when he came home was how much I wished I could go away with him."

"He must've been a good storyteller." Just like grandfather.

"A grand one."

"My parents weren't much for stories," Kate said. "I got all mine form books. And my grandfather. He told me stories when I was little, made-up ones when I was young and then real ones when I got older. He was a traveler too."

Kate was surprised with herself, telling this boy her secrets. He had told her so much, though, and it didn't feel wrong, exactly.

"You parents aren't?"

"No. They gave me this trip as a birthday present. But they were both busy, so they sent Miss Simpkins along with me. Aren't I lucky?" she said, sounding cheerfully sarcastic.

"She seems very dedicated."

"Yes, she'll make a dictator a fine wife one day."

He laughed again.

"Mercifully, she does sleep a lot. The whole thing's ridiculous anyway. Not that I needed a chaperon. What could happen to me on an airship? And I'm only I Sydney two weeks before I come back home."

Kate was not at all happy with these arrangements. She'd much rather be rid of her family and all chaperons for at least a while. She also wanted to last the tour out, just to see if Matt Cruse could enlighten her on the ballooning accident of her grandfather.

"Tell me," she asked, "at what altitude does the Aurora sail?"

"Varies, miss. Right now we're cruising at six hundred fifty feet."

"And will we keep to that for the entire crossing?"

"If the winds hold. We might climb higher if the currents are more favorable elsewhere."

"How high?"

"As much as four thousand feet. But the captain likes to fly so the passengers have a view."

The information processed through Kate's mind. Before this trip, she had read up on airships and their functions. How they worked. She desperately hoped she might see what grandpa saw.

"And our speed?" she protested.

"Seventy-five miles an hour when I last checked."

Matt seemed to be surprised. He must not get so many inquisitive passengers. Kate compared all this new information to the position her grandfather was found.

"Does the ship always follow the some route to Sydney? More or less?"

"We only shift for winds or storm fronts," he told her.

"You needn't worry, miss," he added. " The Aurora's as fine a ship as sails the skies. We've circled the globe a thousand time without mishap."

She looked up at him in surprise. Of course, though, fear of flying would be a reasonable answer to where all of her questions were coming from. Kate was sure he could never guess the truth of the matter.

"Oh, no. I'm not worried. Just curious. But the ship's course is essentially the same?" One or two more questions couldn't hurt.

"Well, it varies quite a lot, actually."

She nodded thoughtfully. There was a chance.

"Is there something particular you're anxious to see, miss?" he asked politely.

Kate decided to take a chance. For when she looked into the face of Matt Cruse, what she saw was an open and honest and plainly good person. No matter how much her brain told her not to reveal her secret, her heart could not help but to trust him.

She looked down at the floor, not trusting her eyes. "Were you aboard the Aurora last year, about this time, when she rescued a damaged balloon?"

He seemed suspicious, but curious. "I spotted it on my watch."

Kate started with hope. Touching her hand to his, she asked, "You were the first to see it? From the crow's nest?"

Mercifully, he asked no questions, and only told her his story. Matt spoke of how he had been the one to swing across the open ocean and hook the balloon and cut it's flight lines.

"You were the one who jumped aboard?"

He nodded.

"The cabin boy?" she asked, making sure.

He bristled a bit, and his face cooled. "The captain asked me, so I did it. He knew I could do it."

"You're very brave Mr. Matt Cruse." Kate was glad, that it had been this person who had saved her grandfather.

His faced warmed, embarrassed. "Not brave, miss," he corrected humbly. "It was no hardship for me. I have no fear of heights."

"In the report, they just said it was 'a crew member.' They didn't give your name."

"You read about me in the newspaper?" he asked.

"No, in the Sky Guard report."

He must have wondered why on earth she had been reading special reports from the Sky Guard.

"The man in the balloon," she said, "was my grandfather."

"Oh." Kate could tell by his eyes he was apologetic, perhaps for showing off his story so proudly. Though he did have every right to, he just hadn't known.

"I'm very sorry, miss."

"Thank you," she said, "for helping him."

"I wished we'd found him sooner."

"They said he had a heart attack."

"That's what Doc Halliday thought. When I first saw him he was unconscious, fallen on the floor of the gondola." He hesitated, and Kate wasn't sure or not she wanted to hear the rest. But she nodded for him to continue anyways. "Anyway, we got him inside and took him to the infirmary, and the doctor tended to him. He woke up for a bit."

"Did he speak to you?"

"Yes but he seemed confused."

"What did he say?"

"Well, I guess he thought he'd seen something." Matt's eyes clouded over a bit, as if he could hear her grandfather's voice once more. "He asked me if I'd seen them too."

Kate was not surprised at all by this. But the more she heard, the more saddened she felt. This was exactly what she wanted to hear, but it was still hard.

"And what did you tell him?"

"I lied and said yes. I didn't even know what he was talking about. Some kind of winged creature, I gather. He said they were beautiful. Then he said" -he shivered- "He said, 'Kate would've love them.'"

Kate couldn't help it, and tears spilled silently from her eyes. She had loved her grandfather dearly, and knowing some of his last words reduced her to crying in front of somebody she hardly even knew.

"You're his Kate."

"Who else?" she said, overcoming her tears and wiping them from her face.

"It seemed to calm him down a bit, me saying I'd seen them too. But then he just sort of looked at me hard, like he knew I was lying. And he told me so. And that started him coughing again. I guess it wasn't long after that he died. After that the captain took care of things, contacted all the proper authorities and so forth."

"Thank you for telling me," Kate said, and she meant it.

Kate felt drained, feeling tired enough to lie down and fall asleep. Matt looked wrung out too.

They came to the end of the tour, and Matt led her back through the B-Deck door and into the lounge. At the base of the grand staircase, he asked her, "Do you know what it was your grandfather was talking about?"

Kate nodded, to tired to keep more secrets. "That's why I'm here. To see what he saw."

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Unfortunately, Kate could say no more, for Miss Simpkins was walking their way.

"Kate, you gave me the worst fright!"

Kate rolled her eyes before facing the chaperon directly.

"I'm sorry Marjorie, but you were sound asleep, and I didn't have the heart to wake you. I thought I'd just go on the tour myself."

And that, as it happened, was the bomb. Miss Simpkins looked from Kate to Matt.

"This is the tour? Just you and… him."

Kate's anger flared for Marjorie's distainful attitude. There was nothing at all wrong with Matt, he was the perfect gentleman.

"That's right, Marjorie. He is the tour guide, after all."

"Well, I can only say it's most inappropriate. Most Inappropriate indeed. Your parents will not be pleased to hear of it."

"Your quite right," Kate said indignantly. "They'll be most distressed that their trusted chaperon fell asleep and left their little baby girl helpless." Kate tilted up her chin, and her nostrils narrowed. This seemed to put the chaperon in her place- or the place Kate wanted her in. Miss Simpkins patted her hair, and took quick breaths of air.

Matt appeared as if he was about to depart, so Kate graciously thanked him. "Thank you so much. I do hope we get a chance to talk some more."

Marjorie sniffed disdainfully. Matt smiled his wonderful smile and left for the crew quarters.

Whoo, that was a long one.

It's kinda funny, though, I was looking through Airborn and saw, on pg. 123 of my book, the letter to Kate. The return letter to the one that she sent to try and convince people that cloud cats existed. Guess who the reply letter was written by? Sir Hugh Snuffler. I thought that was funny- I hadn't noticed before!

But, anyways, hoped you enjoyed! Sorry if it got too long or boring...