Fenghuang

EVERY NIGHT AT MIDNIGHT, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Thick cumulonimbuses, brimming with electricity, yet porous and aetherial. And in the clouds, undulating rhythmically, singing long, deep ballads of love, like a pulse trembling in the atmosphere, were the whales swimming in the wind. Through the roseate and chartreuse streaks, and the waves of damson and cerulean that lit up the night, one could tell there was a grand pod in the heavens. Judging from the assortment of blowholes and flukes seen in the aurora, splashing and skipping along the edges of the clouds like stones, from mature and younger couples and calves alike, this night would bring a spectacular symphony. Often the tune was wistful, but this chorus was a hearty, even sprightly one. And everywhere in the valley, the people would be sung to sleep by the lullabies.

Fenghuang was one-of-a-kind. A ship like no other. It sat atop the frozen river, heavy enough not to float away, too lightweight to break through the ice. And though the blades underneath the gondolas did scrape, and dig deep into the surface, it did not wantonly skate about. Like talons, a pair of harpoons on either side of the vessel had been fired into the heaps of snow and hardened earth on the banks to secure it. Hoshiko marvelled at her handiwork, pleased to see her creation realised. Despite being named after a legendary bird, the ship was no longer just an idea in her head, or spurious schematics scrawled in her notebook. Neither parts, nor scrap cluttering some unseemly Kobe warehouse. It wasn't just a myth anymore. Although dwarfed by the backdrop of the albous, snow-capped Mount Ashibetsu, the airship Fenghuang stood proudly, even defiantly, for it dared to fly higher than the mountains. A beautiful, majestic ship, ready to take flight. And Hoshiko was prepared to take her up into the aurora that very evening; to sail alongside the whales.

Perhaps ten times the size of a typical locomotive, and eight storeys high, the large balloon, coloured gold and scarlet for luck, was an elongated, cylindrical envelope with a conical taper as a beak, and a magnificent, long, fletching empennage for a tail. While tipped turquoise, jutting out of the top, and spreading out of the sides like wings or fins, were a set of light, fan-shaped triangular sails, to better catch the wind whilst airborne. And keeping the envelope’s shape, beneath the red polyethylene sleeve were a series of rigid aluminium ribs, to contain another two smaller balloons, cells made of yet more polyethylene so the water vapour could not leak out when inflated.

Attached to the envelope by the most elaborate and complex rigging of steel cables, were a pair of hand-carved cedar gondolas, side-by-side, a covered gangplank between them, and their feet bladed. The metal did not stick to the ice, and enabled a smooth take-off, and likewise graceful landing. However, the skates could be stowed in midair, in favour of deploying traditional air bladders, or pontoons for regular ground or sea landings. Inside each cabin, were modest compartments for two dozen passengers or cargo of a similar mass, as well as a crew of six. The two gondolas controlled the ballast, the velocity, and the direction the ship would fly. They controlled the inner workings of the steam turbines within the dirigible, without any crew needed to be inside it while in flight. They also housed the two small coal-fired engines at the rear, turning the propellers outside at over a thousand revolutions per minute. And yet, Hoshiko’s engines ran virtually silent, unlike other airships of the time.

Short and petite in stature, even at forty, Lady Yamada Hoshiko always felt there was much to compensate for. Coming from nothing as a child, she persevered, and became a wealthy, respectable woman, unafraid to speak her mind, or do whatever she wanted to do, especially if it was something that only men said or did. Including wearing men’s clothing, like the khaki trousers, and the brown leather jacket. She put her mind to it, until she stood taller, and reached further than anyone before or since, regardless of her size. Her complexion was fair, and even tawny, for she was one to spend her days basking in the sun. Her raven hair was smooth, and shoulder-length, and tied into a thick braid, though it was hidden by her black leather bomber hat. Her cheeks were thin, her nose was mousy, and her brows were scarcely a shadow. And fluttering in her wide brown eyes, she had a desire, a longing to see the world. Every corner of it.

Descending from her higher vantage point on the snowy hill overlooking the airship, Hoshiko swiftly made her way through knee-high snow to the tents of the project camp. A camp of at least three hundred souls. Three hundred people either going to and fro, engaged in some construction, or using heavy machinery, or chatting, or resting with a hot beverage in hand. And it was more than obvious that the men were working hard, together, to accomplish a rare, once-in a lifetime goal. The smell of perspiration and piss, and tobacco and beer and saké permeated the air, and assaulted the nose. They swore, they laughed, and they hollered riotously. There were latrines, but unfortunately they filled rapidly, so some men squatted down and shit in between work tents. Some were gamblers, and chose to sweat through layers of clothing and winter coats. While most of the labourers had discarded them, choosing instead to toil bare-chested, and a select few were completely naked. The open flames of massive wood and coal fires raged intensely, or the modern engines all around whistled and groaned, and the fuel in them burned even hotter, and the heat of the smoke and the steam in the air was fierce, and stinging. She was quite used to it at that point, but Hoshiko had never been sensitive to such sights. She never concerned herself with station or propriety. In fact the more time she spent in the camp, the more she relaxed around the men, however rough they were, and felt comfortable enough to interact freely with them; share meals and conversations; contribute to the work effort. Even going so far as to work without her trousers, or in the nude like the rest of them, when it became unbearably hot. She took off her leather jacket too, because she had nothing to hide, and nothing to fear. In that instance, she slung the jacket over her shoulder.

“Sasha!” Hoshiko called her foreman. But he didn’t hear. Strident through the mud, she shouted louder at the man, and even waved petulantly. The second time, Sasha’s ears pricked up, and after a brief scan of the area, he gestured to acknowledge his boss. Then he broke conversation, and moved to intercept her.

Sasha Lukauskis was an enormous man. The Lithuanian towered over the Japanese and native Ainu workers; being at least a head taller than the next tallest man there. Robust as well, with muscles akin to Heracles. His skin was milky white, as though it had never seen the sun, his hair was gold, and cut close to his head, though like Hoshiko, his too was covered by a bomber hat. Even his outfit matched that of airship mastermind, Hoshiko. His dear Hoshiko. Until he met her, he travelled aimlessly, and he believed that he had lived without purpose. So his winsome smile, upon a clean, square jaw, and his old blues narrowed, were aglitter whenever he caught sight of the woman.

They always had to speak English to understand one another, and their voices were always raised to be heard when in the camp, even standing shoulder to shoulder. But Sasha was happy to report, “We’re ahead of schedule, m’lady! If this weather holds, she’ll be ready for her maiden flight in the next fifteen minutes! The men are working on the final touches!”

The duo didn’t stand still for long. Hoshiko smiled at the news, and replied, “Shall we?” He stretched out a hand, inviting Hoshiko to take it in hers, and she immediately obliged. She gripped it tightly, and warmly, as he escorted the lady to Fenghuang.

Ahead of them, the airship was still obstructed by a wall of scaffolding, and as many as thirty men abreast on each level, making the finishing touches. Concurrently, another crew was beginning to dismantle the scaffolding, seemingly unaware, or unconcerned that there were still men climbing upon its bamboo frame.

“She is beautiful,” said Hoshiko, regarding the airship. “Just as I had imagined, for so many years.”

“She’s more than I imagined. She’ll fly higher, and further than anything that has been built before.”

“Yes. As she is now, she can take us to Europe or America, without having to refuel, and in half the time it takes those German airships to move. But with her specifications, and just a few modifications… I even believe that Fenghuang might be able to take us above the atmosphere, into low earth orbit, and we could—”

“—Be in Paris before breakfast.” Sasha stole the words from Hoshiko’s mouth, and grinned. “I know, m’lady. I’d like that very much. Nothing will make me happier.”

“She means a lot to me. Not to say that I don’t love you, Sasha, but Fenghuang is like a child to me. The closest you and I will ever come to having children of our own.”

The man gave Hoshiko’s tiny hand a squeeze, then drew her in closer, and dipped his head down so that his large forehead was resting on hers, and he reassured her the only way he knew how. “Hoshi, m’lady, this is your dream. This has always been your dream, I knew that the moment I met you. I will always love you. And for as long as I have known you, I knew how big your heart was. But no one was as surprised as I was to discover how much your heart has grown since then, and to find that you love me in equal measure.”

Sasha kissed Hoshiko, and she kissed him back, and it felt to her, as if their lips were melting together. Like butter on a hot pan. It was a deep and passionate kiss that made one forget where one was, or who one was. For a moment, they let the kiss transport them far from the camp. For a moment, they were completely alone with each other. For a moment, they were one. Until Sasha’s big fat lips slowly drifted away.

“You… always know exactly what to say to me, Mister Lukauskis.”

Sasha beamed, “I suppose that’s why you made me the foreman. You only like yes-men.”

To this, Hoshiko’s mouth gaped, as she pretended to take offence. “How dare you, Sir! I am an independant, self-made woman. I care to surround myself with like-minded, dedicated people!”

Then Sasha jested even further, and his tone became blatantly sarcastic, “Ohh, of course you do. M’lady.” Then he gave away another tender kiss, this time on the cheek, before he parted. His valedictory words were likewise soft, “I love you, M’lady. But for now I must go to check on the perimeter security. I’ll return to you momentarily. Never fear. We’ll be heaven bound—”

“—And be in Paris before breakfast.”

Sasha had a wonderful smile. She could see it from a mile away. And every time Hoshiko saw his smirk, she knew exactly what the man was thinking, and how he was feeling. He couldn’t hide it. He couldn’t pretend. Because he smiled with his eyes.

Finally, Sasha blew a kiss, as he turned and trotted away, eager to go and return quickly. Of course, Hoshiko didn’t stand there and wait for the man to come back, as she was far too excited to raise anchor, and venture up into the clouds.

A temporary flight of stairs had been placed outside of the gondola door. So with fleet feet, Hoshiko scaled down the steps, banging her boots along the way, to limit the dirt she was about to track in with her, and simultaneously, put her jacket on again. Then with nimble fingers, she turned the knob, and blitzed inside the cabin.

Fifteen minutes passed in relative silence, as Hoshiko sat alone next to the engine controls. The insulated walls of the gondolas not only kept the cabins warm, but deadened the sounds of the work crews, and their machines as well. Even while they finished tearing apart the last of the scaffolding. And the barely noticeable hum of the engines, and the turbines of her ship — of Fenghuang — were dulled completely. Yet the whale songs up above, they remained in her ear, albeit dulled. Their music sounded amorous, even restless. And Hoshiko’s eyes followed the whales as they danced in the aurora, serene, and blissfully unaware of the rest of the world below them.

Suddenly, Hoshiko began to see a bright orange light shoot up from behind the hill. They were immense tongues of flame. And the source of the fire was unknown. Before long, the workers noticed the blaze too, and they reacted quickly. Almost frenzied, dozens of men rushed to the water, and dozens more raced up the hill to investigate. Hoshiko opened the door, and heard immediately how frantic everything was above her. And a sinking feeling in her stomach told her that breakfast in Paris might not be a possibility.