Saturday August 18th, 1936 Back to Spontoon! We made an early start and must have trekked sixteen uneventful miles along the beach to our pickup point before noon, having just enough time to dig the signal trench in the sand before seeing the welcome sight of the Lockheed Lamprey zooming in over the coast. The pilot spotted us, did another low pass to be sure it actually was who he expected to find, and pulled another one of those spectacular short landings planting the nose hatch right on the beach. This time we were all aboard in ten seconds, Helen shouting "Go go go!" and helping the crewman seal the front doors in record time. By three o'clock we were looking down on the familiar shapes of the Spontoon Islands, with tour boats in the waters and the highly visible black and white cones of the Schneider Trophy course below us. I suppressed a shudder thinking how close those tour boats must come sometimes to Cranium Island. We barely got away with it ourselves, and the idea of a couple of hundred average tourists cast ashore on that isle really does not bear thinking about. Everyone seemed very quiet and withdrawn, especially Molly. Saimmi whispered above the engine note that Molly has had as much as she can take for the time being, and whatever new adventures crop up she should steer clear of. I assured her that our only plans now were to relax and watch the Schneider Trophy; no more perilous trips for us before term starts. I am quite worried about Saimmi myself; she put an awful lot into this trip and though she is young and strong it has been a hideous strain. If spiritual trials were muscle strains, it is as if she had gone through everything we had carrying another hundred pounds of weight in her pack, as she was protecting and concealing us from things I did not even clearly see were out there. She confides that Professor Schiller might be rather disappointed with the Fragment he took away; she had enough time to go through the ritual she had planned to from the beginning, and what is left should be mostly harmless now. Well, she did tell him it was out of power. It seems the various local religions keep an eye on each other's interests, as she mused that it would be a good thing to warn the Vanierge about the Prof's collecting mania; it seems they have the actual Horn of Heimdall, whatever that may be, that the early colonists brought from Europe and should not return there. Just as the Reverend Bingham would not see eye to eye with Father Dominicus on rituals despite having the same basic religion (as someone like Jasbir would see it) there are Nordic priests and Nordicists, which are a quite different thing. (Later) It is so good just to lie out on Haio Beach, relaxing with a pineapple drink and without worrying about who is on guard and what is sneaking up behind them. We returned with our tails on, having successfully rid the Nimitz Sea of one of the three fragments. Actually it made no real difference as it had already been drained dry of its malign influence (which Saimmi says will fade over the years though the folk who like Cranium Island as it is will hardly notice) but at least it is accounted for and gives us valuable clues on tackling the other two. Definitely a successful trip, all things considered. If Professor Schiller makes a catastrophic mistake tinkering with it in New South Thule, he can hardly render the Antarctic Plateau any less habitable than it is already. Mrs Hoele'toemi was very pleased to see us all back safe and sound; this is the first time Saimmi and I have been out in peril together, and there was a definite chance of none of us coming back. I think Saimmi is excused heavy work for a while - still, there are the four of my dorm plus Saffina quite fit enough for household jobs, and even routine things such as weeding the taro patch are a very welcome relief after the last week. With summer "holidays" like this one, even the prospect of the third year at Songmark does not seem too bad! Sunday August 19th, 1936 Yesterday finished rather early for us - an hour after sundown all five of us were fast asleep, definitely making up lost time. Actually sleeping in a bed is a great luxury once one has gone without for so long - and though it is a great shame Marti and Jirry are not back, I fear we would have disappointed them; for the first evening at any rate. This morning I felt quite fine, though. Before heading out to our various devotions we got together and compared notes on the trip - Maria says she is going to confessional and has to get her thoughts in order, and our Tutors will no doubt want some sort of account. They are far more forgiving of us confessing what plans went horribly wrong than finding out we tried to hide them; as Miss Devinski always says, nobody ever learned from their mistakes unless they faced up to them first. Oh my. From what Maria says, Professor Blum had some very ... innovative ideas about the local wildlife of Cranium Island. Whether he bred them, found them wandering or a mix of the two Maria could not say, but he certainly had some plants that Kew Gardens would want in their collection (until they found out about their preferred food and habits.) I recall the mysterious greenery that pressed against the window of my cell in the night, and the fact that Gunter said it was no animal whose claws (thorns?) had cut him. I also recall Mrs. Smith mentioning some of the experiments were quite fun up to a point, and realise she was talking about being a willing test subject rather than an experimenter. Of course, in some circumstances Maria would not feel she needed to confess; though she did not go into detail one had the impression Doctor Blum's experiments might have involved giving plant husbandry a whole new meaning, which at the time she had no complaints about. Maria rather hopes and prays for crop failure now, being unwilling to take more positive steps with her religion being what it is. She is rather embarrassed about acting so out of character; if she was feline I might suspect her having been exposed to catnip but that has no effect on bovines. Possibly there is something new that does. The rest of the story was easy enough to piece together, with Saffina having been called in by Doctor Blum to be asked about our party and why we had come to the island. She says Mrs. Smith seemed to be very well settled in the place, and had an admiring following of young interns wherever she went. I suppose Hollywood stars are rare in that part of the world, though Professor Blum mentioned once being associated with Entertainment having a resort in the Catskills Mountains until his increasingly bold hobbies required relocating somewhere less public. Folk from the coastal cities would drive out into the Catskills in big groups for dance parties and shows, and over the course of the years some probably never returned. Anyway, G-U-U somehow got into the crater over the top past all sorts of traps and alarms, and threatened to blow up the power receiver unless we were released. From Saffina's account the complex did not have a normal fuel-driven generator as one would expect but an absolutely huge Tesla coil that was receiving electricity beamed from elsewhere. We have studied the late Mr. Tesla's inventions in our engineering classes, and there was much that he was working with when he died concerning wireless power transmission. In which case someone else on the island must have a generator and be feeding the various science fortresses; one wonders in what form they receive payment? We were glad that we were only counting the cost in terms of equipment; my Webley-Fosbury pistol is gone for good but unlike T-Gews there were plenty of those made; most of what we lost we can replace easily enough. As Miss Blande has often told us, Adventuresses have a dilemma in terms of needing to take the best possible equipment into the field as a matter of survival, but knowing they may have to leave it behind in all sorts of circumstances. Much as Helen quotes her Abraham Lincoln as saying about being a general; good generals must cherish their armies but be prepared to send them to their deaths in necessary battles. In both cases, one should not gamble what one cannot afford to lose. A new revolver of that model would be pricey but I am definitely not going back to Krupmark to buy another at the Thieves' Bazaar, whatever happens. If I never see the place again it will be ten minutes too soon. While Molly headed back to the beach and Maria went off to the Chapel of the Sacred Heart to give her confessor a surprise, Saimmi took the rest of us out to a jungle shrine and taught us a healing ritual that we were all decidedly in need of. It is a shame that Molly has not taken any interest in the local religion even after seeing it working; Saimmi says she is the one who could most benefit. It is amazing how time seems to pass when conducting our rituals; it seemed about ten minutes but looking up at the sun Saimmi announced it was lunchtime already. Maria came back with some news that had us all sitting with ears rigid - things have moved on in no uncertain way with Father Dominicus and his plans. He has agreed to dismantle the South Island chapel and take up the offer of the larger site on Casino Island, which surprised us. He has two conditions though - the South Island site stays consecrated Church property with nothing allowed to be built there except a garden with a Calvary - and he gets his temporary Flying School. He's actually done it. Everyone said the Althing would throw that out at first sniff, but Maria says the Chief of Police was asked to do a thorough investigation as to the risks, and when he amazingly enough gave it a clean bill of health the Interior Minister rubber-stamped it and publicly announced it to the newspapers. The flying school will be based on Casino Island but they will rent workshops and hangars on Eastern Island alongside us. I still can't believe it. Maria's ears went right down as she told us what else some of the congregation were saying. She says folk were discussing the new flying school being entirely for girls of good character - by which I think Molly and Beryl would not even get a reply to their application, and if a student did get caught doing some of the things we have got up to they would be slung straight out with penances rather than refunds. I had not really thought about us being "scapegraces and fugitives from Justice" which is how some of Maria's fellow congregation described us. Some folk do not seem to like young ladies becoming world-class with firearms and in unarmed combat, and we have been seen climbing buildings as well as rock faces; in Beryl's case that is rather worrying I must admit. Our Tutors will be simply fuming when they hear - and they have very sharp ears about anything connected with Songmark. (Later) I think Maria could have chosen a more sympathetic religion, had she chosen it the way we have the Spontoonie traditions rather than being born into it! She has to go back tomorrow to find out her penances having had her confession heard; not surprisingly even Father Dominicus has had to go and look some things up in the reference books once he was convinced she was telling the truth. It is rather ironic that we had been concerned she had nobody to date, being always concerned about her reputation back home with her Uncle. At least in terms of spoiling reputations Doctor Blum does not know our names - and however advanced he may be for a plant life form, Maria's Cranium Island "date" is unlikely to be talking. Monday August 20th, 1936 A restful day, catching up on things with our friends. We bumped into Prudence and co (all her dorm are here over the summer) on Hotel Beach and after all this time accepted their invitation for a swim with their formation team. I must say, they are as well rehearsed as any team Bushby Barkley puts in his films, and it is jolly good exercise. Molly announced that she intends to sit on the beach sunbathing every day until September, being due some relaxation. Actually, Prudence had some interesting things to tell me. She had mentioned before that her friends at the Double Lotus had pinned a name down of the tramp steamer Captain who had her way with Molly last year, and they have a plan that will go into action when Captain Granite next heads this way. Tramp steamers never know exactly where they will be going next; it depends on what cargo is available when they arrive at each port. She asked me not to tell Molly, who would probably get ... overenthusiastic and might wreck things. A rather more surprising visitor to the islands is my old school chum Angelica Silferlindh from Sweden who they met stranded on Main Island last week! I know Angelica was set to travel with her family company when she left St. Winifred's (they have almost got a monopoly on importing bananas into Sweden; her firm lives, works and probably dreams bananas) but had no idea she was heading this way. There is some very odd problem with her aircraft that left Prudence definitely scratching her head-fur over - and both Prudence and Ada are about top in our class when it comes to engines, so it must be strange indeed. I will certainly go and see if I can help; by all accounts she has a wonderful aircraft and our Tutors are always pleased to see us filling in our log books with new types flown. We have not done much flying this holiday; even Molly was advised by Mr. Sapohatan she had best not write up our flight in the commandeered Sikorski chasing the slavers to Casino Island, as nothing is being written down about that episode anywhere public. I can certainly imagine why Ada was keen on offering my friend a friendly paw, or indeed other very friendly parts. But she will be too busy for awhile as that respectable librarian rabbit from the American mid-west is arriving tomorrow and Ada wanted some advice on appropriate oiled fur patterns for her. I think it is rather off-colour, Ada pretending to be a Native Spontoonie and carrying on a deceptive correspondence with her all year - someone is bound to find out eventually. On the other paw, I have been a Siamese girl from Macao myself on occasion so can hardly complain too loudly. Prudence also brought me up to speed as to the Schneider Trophy races; the teams are quite evenly matched in aircraft but the French have been having personnel problems. Their senior pilot Monsieur Crapaud of Chateaux Crapaud has been in jail overnight twice for gross driving and flying offences despite his claiming international competitors have Diplomatic Immunity and just yesterday his long-suffering friends Monsieur Taupe and Monsieur Compagnol * bailed him out of the Casino Island police station again. That mysterious Tillamook aircraft with the steam boost has only flown twice since I saw it, and has spent most of its time being repaired under strict guard. Prudence says there is something quite revolutionary about the radiators of the Lorinson, making it a "Mystery Ship" as they call them, that only appears on race days and the owners are not keen on letting anyone too near. Certainly, there is more happening in these islands than just sunbathing and picnics on the beaches. The weather here is quite scorching, and we are very glad of Native dress. Actually once one gets used to it, having the politer type of tourist photograph one is quite good fun. I can see how the Spontoonies like inventing rituals and traditions - rather like Beryl working out how to sell worthless merchandise, half the fun is in persuading folk it is real and imagining them telling their friends back home. I am not too worried that anyone will recognise any photograph of me in costume, even if the newspaper printed it back home. Helen's costume is still more revealing, which is a form of protection in its own right as no newspaper back home could think about printing it! For the less polite tourists - style always comes round again, and I have seen folk proudly wearing new hats embroidered in Native script with "Wandering paws", "Avoid like the tail-rot" or "Total bigot" as well as less polite things. It is a double joy to sell them the very warning signs that let one's friends know what to expect and to take evasive action! *(Editor's note: a water rat is not actually any species of rat, but an aquatic vole!) Tuesday August 21st, 1936 Saimmi reappeared today; she had been off since Sunday conferring with her superiors and discussing what to do about the remaining Fragments. The one under Sacred Lake will keep, she says, and indeed just physically finding it and bringing it to the surface would be a major engineering job let alone coping with it afterwards. I suppose the nearest word would be "deconsecrating" it but that rather assumes it was holy to begin with, rather than the opposite. Although it could not be done even with the intact priesthood four centuries ago, the energies have lessened over the years and it just might be possible to tackle the job, given all the luck in the world. What they are worried about is the Krupmark fragment; by elimination we now know it is the one buried in the earth but nobody knows where. If we are lucky it might be in the scrub woods high on Mount Krupp where nobody notices us digging for it - if we are unlucky it is a hundred feet under the foundations of Fort Bob, which I would think more likely considering on Cranium suitably inclined folk were drawn to its presence. Saimmi says she will take months to recover from what she went through on Cranium Island and none of her fellow Priestesses can really be spared. Still, she has gained a lot of useful experience about dealing with such and says Huakava has another new pupil who might be able to help when the time comes. Someone else we saw was Mrs. Voboele (nee Pelton) who was on South Island sunbathing with her cub and husband. Oh my. Helen spotted last Autumn that after finishing her career at Songmark she wasted no time on her new one; it looks as if she has decided cubs are a good thing and will be presenting hers with a brother or sister next Spring. Although she has left Songmark our dear (ex) Tutor was keen to find out how we were getting along; after all she put a year of her time into my class befoore she left, and is happy to hear about us. As I expected, she said we should try and get in more flying time; having our "B" commercial licenses we are qualified to charge for our services if we can find anyone willing to trust us with their aircraft. That would be a fine idea; if I could get some flight experience and the pay that goes with it, I could get my dear Sand Flea in the air again! Although it may be the holidays, there was no time like the present and having waved farewell to the rapidly expanding Voboele family I gathered up my documents and took a water taxi over to Eastern Island. Helen whispered that it was a caution to all of us; when she was Miss Pelton she doubtless took all possible Precautions but now she seems to have thrown that right out she is having a kitten a year, one after another. I think it is a nice idea, personally. One wonders if we will be here to see any more of the original Songmark founders change their careers that way? The pilot's Union Hall is right next to the Pan-Pacific Airlines building and close to most of the rest, which is handy if pilots turn up sick, dead drunk or similar and a scheduled flight needs a last-minute replacement. Registering was fairly painless, but when I showed my qualifications folk shook their snouts and held out little hope for me getting any regular work. I put myself down for "unlimited" duties which basically means anything legal at any time on zero notice - so if someone wants to pay minimal wages to get an express cargo of coconuts here from Orpington at one in the morning through a typhoon, I might be considered. Well, nothing ventured nothing gained, and being an Adventuress means living with a lot of uncertainty. Having my logbook and everything with me, I decided to make a day of it and try and find my old school chum Angelica before she flies off. Prudence had seen her on the North Coast but had been rather vague about where; from her description I found myself an hour later heading over the watershed from Main Village and passing the reservoirs where I recall Soppy Forsythe bathing. Though I do my best to see the good in everyone, I can hardly help thinking so many other folk beside me would be a lot better off if she had drowned in there. One thing Prudence had been very exact about (beside Angelica's good looks) was her aircraft; at half a mile I was sure I had the right valley when I spotted the big silver floatplane moored in the bay. It is rather a poor place to dock for anything more than an afternoon picnic: there is no proper jetty or slipway and the bay is right open to the North which would be bad news if a typhoon curved round the way they often do in Autumn. It is still holiday season but last year a typhoon narrowly missed these islands just two weeks later in the year, and by Prudence's account Angelica has been stranded here longer than that already.  Ten minutes later I was admiring the silver monoplane, a very nice all-metal construction with the name "Silferangel" stencilled on the fuselage. There seemed no sign of its pilot, so I enquired in the village. Quite a story they told me - and having looked at my fur markings that Saimmi combed in, I think they told far more than they would to most folks. I have heard of some of the minor priests on Main Island having their own ideas about protecting the wildlife and scenery, but had not thought anyone would launch a full-scale curse strong enough to affect someone who disbelieves in such! Having three "wonder-workers" ganging up on one Euro seems hardly fair. The villagers tell me Angelica is keeping herself fed and such by pearl-diving and is out most of the day when she is not desperately tinkering with her aircraft; from what Prudence has said it is suffering from what any doctor would call a mystery bug and is almost out of fuel. There is a limit to how long she can stay like this though; if the more officious officials hear about it she could be instantly deported - by all accounts she would love to leave, but her aircraft is her only asset and it is going nowhere with her flying it. Some folk in her situation have had crashed aircraft or leaking boats seized by the authorities and sold to cover deportation fees and such - something that would absolutely break my chum's heart, I am sure! If the aircraft really is unfixable - well, it looks like top-grade aluminium throughout, and Superior Engineering pay a decent rate per pound of scrap. That would be even worse. By all accounts the pearl-fishers can stay out all day at this time of year, depending on how good the harvest is. I asked around in the village and folk shook their heads somewhat, telling me that though Angelica is bringing in plenty of pearls she cannot actually sell them herself - she needs licenses and permits which the Althing do not hand out too happily to Euros. Exactly how she is selling them, I will have to ask her. I suppose pearls are a perfect cargo for the quieter side of the "import-export trade" as one can carry a fortune in one's pockets and there is no telling where they came from. Beryl has told us of some school chums at Saint T's who fell foul of the law disposing of their Father's Great War souvenirs; the bank managed to prove by chemical traces the gold bars were official Imperial German bullion illegally imported. Happily pearls have no such fingerprint! No sign of Angelica by teatime so back to South Island. Someone who has turned up is Lars - or so Helen says, he vanished with Molly at lunchtime and she happily told Mrs H not to lay her a place at table till she returns, hopefully in a few days. It was interesting how Helen described Lars as hailing Molly from outside in the street; it looked as if he was carefully avoiding stepping over the boundary into the Hoele'toemi family compound. I can imagine he is not welcome here with his reputation, but Euros barge into villages wherever they feel like without fear or thought. He did much the same at Song Sodas according to Jasbir, which is odd. I must ask him about it. Our year has certainly dispersed, even those of us who have not gone home for the Summer! Jasbir and Li Han have gone to Gull Island, hopefully to establish themselves with local papers to get them into the Coconut Shell dance shows despite our Tutors' veto. Beryl has been seen on Casino Island where she is presumably spending time and shells in the small private casinos (the main Casino has blacklisted her again.) I have no idea where Adele Beasley went to; she seems to have vanished completely. The only second-year folk still around here are my dorm and Prudence's; with any luck we will not get called up again to welcome the new arrivals this month. It would serve that Brigit Mulvaney right to have to welcome some staunch Ulster girls with a smile, though someone might have to twist her arm to get the smile out. There would be no shortage of volunteers. Of course, things will be harder for Red Dorm or whoever else gets grabbed for the job this year, in that most of the aviatrixes arriving will not be for us at all. Father Dominicus has already gathered a dozen of his faithful flock (or flight, or squadron) from the folk who were still in the area having been rejected by Songmark, and by all accounts he has twice as many on the way here. Next term should be one of those Interesting Times that Li Han keeps saying are best avoided. Wednesday August 22nd, 1936 A fascinating day! Out to Main Island first thing where I managed to find Angelica, and we spent the morning catching up on things. It seems so long ago that I said farewell to St. Winifred's, and though she was not in my class I used to see a lot of her being in many of the same sporting teams. Remembering that sudden-death playoff against Saint T's hockey First Team (penal squad) brings a tear to my eyes and a twinge to my shins even now. Of course, with Father deciding rather suddenly in the holidays to send me to Songmark rather than back for my final year I had never said farewell to any of my class - which Angelica says caused a lot of rumours about why I had suddenly been sent to the far side of the planet. I was rather hard-pressed to think what to tell Angelica about her aircraft - having talked with Saimmi, I knew the real explanation is not something Angelica would ever believe. But I had to do my best for an old school pal; she had made nearly forty shells over two weeks of jolly hard work pearl diving, and I managed to make up the fee of fifty that Superior Engineering charge for a day's full workshop time. Nothing less will really do to track down a problem as subtle as this one seems to be; if it was anything straightforward Prudence and her friends would have at least worked out the problem even if they lacked tools and parts to fix it on the spot. Then - it was a real treat to get up in the Silver Angel's cockpit for an hour, reading the manuals (or rather looking at the pictures in Swedish, with Angelica translating) before taxiing around the bay while the real pilot looked on rather frustrated. All seemed well as far as I could tell, so I opened up the throttle and the aircraft almost leaped off the water! The fuel was below ten percent on the gage so there was no scope for anything fancy; even so I clocked twenty minutes of flight in the log book before we touched down near the Superior Engineering slipway on Eastern Island. It is the first aircraft I have flown with triple tail fins, and I hope my Tutors will appreciate the addition to my log book. Angelica was very glad to put my flight suit on for the day, and it fits as she is not far off my size but probably quite a few pounds lighter. The Songmark course is very physical, and I have gained a lot of muscle since we were both wearing our St. Winifred's uniforms. All she has had to wear since getting here was a borrowed lava lava cloth costume that she rather dislikes, though I think it looks rather good on her and Prudence and co certainly agree. They would. Superior Engineering is a hive of action this time of year, with the full Summer flood of commercial and private traffic plus all the support aircraft for the Schneider Trophy teams. Although of course the national teams trust only their own mechanics to touch their precious racers, the British team alone has six flying boats in support and Superior get the business of supporting those (so to speak.) Still, I know most of the senior mechanics there and they are always keen on exploring a new aircraft type. I hardly expect to get the McCraddens themselves to work on it for that price, but they have trained up some very good Spontoonie engineers and Songmark is a valued customer, so I am sure they will do their best for me. Angelica had to vanish and see someone about selling pearls, so I checked in with the Pilot's Hall to see if anyone had enquired about hiring my services. A few folk had looked at my qualifications, but on having spotted I was not yet a Songmark graduate they had rapidly lost interest even seeing the pittance I was willing to fly for. What does a girl have to do to get money and experience around here? Thursday August 23rd, 1936 Quite a day of ups and downs. I met with Angelica again at Superior Engineering just after breakfast, both of us hopeful they have tracked down some subtle glitch in her engine. Certainly we cannot complain they have skimped the job: we have seen the engineer's report and they took the engine completely to pieces before reassembling, testing all the way. The good thing is, the Silver Angel is in 100% good mechanical health, as if it had come straight from the factory. The bad news is ... it took every shell Angelica had to pay for the service, and even after their works pilot took her aircraft for a testing flight, it still will not work for her! The McCraddens are certainly Wise Ones in engineering terms, but we will need someone more on Saimmi's lines to fix what ails that aircraft. I can see there is something there, but not exactly what it is. Poor Angelica. I was commiserating with her when I saw one of the port wardens prowling towards us; Eastern Island has limited dock space and mooring fees are expensive. She has hardly any fuel left, and without mooring fees she cannot even afford to leave her aircraft where it is. There was only one thing to do; before the warden grabbed us we piled into the cockpit and I got us away, climbing over Main Island and gliding back down to her cove with the fuel gage now reading "empty". What she can try next, I really do not know. I am not sure the curse would not follow her even if she traded the Silver Angel in for another aircraft, something she would never consider in the first place. Angelica had to get back to her pearl diving, so I went back through the village and had a word with Mama Popoluma, the head of the household she is staying with. She is a very nice and jolly Spontoonie of Fillipine descent, and when I walked in she was stirring up a big dish of nutritious stewed plantain for the evening meal. Although green planntain does not smell or tastelike banana, I am sure it must remind Angelica of home (assuming she knows green plantains ARE bananas, which I did not know myself till coming to Spontoon where they grow.) Mama Popoluma is perfectly happy for her guest to keep paying the rent in fresh oysters, though her idea of feeding Angelica up until she has a properly pleasing figure to attract an islander husband might not be quite appreciated as she expects. Still, there is very little more I can do for Angelica; unless a Swedish aircraft carrier turns up and takes her and the "Silver Angel" home on deck I hardly see how they are going to leave together without spending a lot of money, unless someone does something about that curse. I doubt that will wear off any time soon with the three natives still around to renew it as required, and it is more a matter for Saimmi than Superior Engineering now. On my return to Haio Beach my heart leaped at the sight of Mrs H waiting for me waving a phoned-in message relayed through the village - someone wants to see me about a flying contract! I hugged her in gratitude and ran straight to Herr Rassberg's shop where the nearest public telephone was happily free for use. A lady answered, and I got the details for my interview, first thing tomorrow on Casino Island with my papers and documents. She double-checked that I was who I said I was; of course for piloting one cannot be too careful, and there are plenty of tales of temporary pilots vanishing with the aircraft and cargo. I might not have a passport, but I decided to take along my pedigree which has my paw-print on it, and is accepted as proof in some places. My head was quite spinning as I put the phone down; after all the trouble I took getting my license on the Gilbert and Sullivan Islands six months ago, it is the first practical reward. In fact I believe I am the first in my year to get an offer like this, and I will try to make my Tutors proud of me. Helen and Saffina were quite elated at my good news - of course I only have an interview so far, but that is more than the rest of us have managed. I had one Nootnops Blue to celebrate and no more; turning up for an interview tomorrow half dazed or hung over would not be a brilliant career move. In twenty-four hours I have added a new aircraft to my logbook, helped an old chum as best as I can and hopefully taken the first steps into my new career. Things are decidedly looking up! next |
