Eoin Colfer - Airman

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First published 2008
1

Text copyright Eoin Colfer, 2008

The moral right of the author has been asserted

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978-0-141-90888-5

For Declan Dempsey

Conor Broekhart was born to fly, or more accurately he was born flying. Though Broekharts legend is littered with fantastical stories, the tale of his first flight in the summer of 1878 would be the most difficult to believe, had there not been thousands of witnesses. In fact, an account of his birth in a hot-air balloon can be read in the archives of the French newspaper, Le Petit Journal, available to all for a small fee at the Librairie Nationale.

Above the article, there is a faded black-and-white photograph. It is remarkably sharp for the period, and was taken by a newspaperman who happened to be in the Trocadro gardens at the time with his camera.

Captain Declan Broekhart is easily recognizable in the picture, as is his wife, Catherine. He, handsome in his crimson-and-gold Saltee Island Sharpshooters uniform, she shaken but smiling. And there, protected in the crook of his fathers elbow, lies baby Conor. Already with a head of blond Broekhart hair and his mothers wide, intelligent brow. No more than ten minutes old and through some trick of the light or photographic mishap, it seems as though Conors eyes are focused. Impossible of course. But imagine if somehow they had been, then baby Conors first sight would have been a cloudless French sky flashing by. Little wonder he became what he became.

The World Fair was to be the most spectacular ever seen, with over 1,000 exhibitors from every corner of the world.

Captain Declan Broekhart had travelled to France from the Saltee Islands at his kings insistence. Catherine had accompanied him at her own request, as she was the scientist in the family and longed to see for herself the much heralded Galerie des Machines, which showcased inventions promising to make the future a better one. King Nicholas had sent them to Paris, to investigate the possibility of a balloon division for the Saltee Wall.

On the third day of their trip, the pair took a buggy along the Avenue de lOpra, to observe the Aeronautical Departments balloon demonstration in the Trocadro gardens.

Do you feel that? asked Catherine. She took her husbands hand, and placed it on her stomach. Our son is kicking to be free. He longs to witness these miracles for himself.

Declan laughed. He or she will have to wait. The world will still be here in six weeks.

When the Broekharts arrived at the Trocadro gardens, they found the Aeronautical Squadron in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty, or rather that of her head. The statue would be presented to the United States when completed, but for now Lady Libertys head alone was being showcased. The copper structure dwarfed most of the fairs other exhibits and it was amazing to imagine how colossal the assembled statue would be when it finally stood guard over New York Citys harbour.

The Aeronautical Squadron had inflated a dirigible balloon on a patch of lawn, and was politely holding the crowd back with a velvet rope. Declan Broekhart approached the soldier on sentry duty and handed him his sealed letter of introduction from the French ambassador to the Saltee Islands. Within minutes they were joined by the squadrons captain, Victor Vigny.

Vigny was lithe and tanned with a crooked nose and a crown of jet-black hair that stood erect on his scalp like the head of a yard brush.

Bonjour, Captain Broekhart, he said, removing one white glove and shaking the Saltee Island officers hand warmly. We have been expecting you. The Frenchman bowed deeply. And this must be Madame Broekhart. Vigny checked the letter in mock confusion. But, madame, nowhere here does it say how beautiful you are.

The Frenchmans smile was so charming that the Broekharts could not take offence.

Well, Captain, said Vigny, sweeping back his arm dramatically to introduce his balloon. I give you Le Soleil, the Sun. What do you think of her?

The dirigible was undeniably magnificent. An elongated golden envelope swaying gently over its leather-bound basket. But Declan Broekhart was not interested in decoration, he was interested in specification.

A bit more pointed than others lve seen, he noted.

Arodynamiqu, corrected Vigny. She glides across the sky like her namesake.

Catherine unhooked herself from her husbands arm.

A cotton-silk blend, she said, craning her head back to squint at the balloon. And twin screws on the basket. A neat piece of work. How fast does she travel?