News from the Clouds Page 3

  I managed to get into a standing position by leaning on the slightly flexible side of the room to steady myself. With my hands and feet spread out I could stay relatively stable.

  What I saw out of the window was a bit of a shock, in fact two very distinct shocks.

  First, the thing I was in was incredibly high up, much higher than when I’d landed on it, and second the view below showed we were above an ocean.

  Whatever I was in was above water, and not only that, we seemed to be moving. I could tell by watching the lower clouds pass over the blue expanse of water. Either they were blowing in the other direction or we were moving. It was a very similar view to the one you’d see out of the window of a passenger jet at 35,000 feet. This could only mean one thing: the room I was in was pressurised. It had to be or I’d already have suffocated and frozen to death.

  I stared down for a long time trying to make sense of what I was seeing. I was fairly certain when I came out of the cloud and saw the flying doughnuts I had been above land. In both my previous jumps through the cloud I’d ended up in the same place. Well, at the same map coordinates, although it looked very different each time. As far as I could understand, when I came out of the cloud I was still in the vicinity of where the Didcot Power Station had once stood.

  However, this time I’d flown through the cloud that was above the Squares of London, and it seemed I had somehow come out above the sea. Had the entire world flooded? Was this cloud really more like a floating Noah’s Ark? Would I discover two of every kind of animal stashed in the hold?

  I then remembered a graphic representation I had pinned up in my office back in Kingham, which showed the Earth with all the water that exists on the planet gathered into two giant blobs resting above California. The saltwater blob was bigger but still much smaller than you might have guessed; the freshwater blob was terrifyingly teeny. I knew that no matter how much ice melted, how much rain fell, there was just not enough water on the planet for Kevin Costner’s second-worst film to have been remotely possible.

  So, the question arose in my mind: if I had flown into the cloud over London and flown out of the cloud over the sea, was it possible to fly through space as well as time? A question like that made me feel mildly annoyed, the whole situation was barking mad so why worry about minor details like travelling through space as well as time?

  ‘Ah, you have woken up,’ said a voice behind me.

  I slid down the wall and sat below the window in order not to fall over as I turned to face the person speaking.

  It was the old man who’d greeted me by the plane. I couldn’t recall his name, which left me feeling even more annoyed. Why couldn’t I remember his name? I felt sure I was better at such basic data storage before the wretched kidonge had wormed its way into my bone marrow.

  ‘Yes, sorry, I’m a bit confused. I’m really sorry, I can’t remember your…’

  ‘I am Gustav,’ he said kindly. ‘Don’t worry, you are bound to be a bit disorientated. I am, Gustav, and you are Gavin Meckler.’

  ‘I know who I am Gustav,’ I said, while repeating his name in my head over and over to try and lodge it in there somehow. ‘How do you know who I am? Have you got a different sort of kidonge here?’

  ‘I don’t know what a kidonge is but I am sure you will tell me in good time.’ His soft German accent was reassuring. ‘Please try to relax, you appear to be very anxious. I want to reassure you that you are very safe with us. We are currently 10,000 metres above the surface but there is nothing to be alarmed about, the structure you are on has a 100 per cent safety record.’

  ‘That’s very good to hear,’ I said, very aware that my face was not showing any signs of reassurance. ‘But there are so many things I don’t understand and one thing is really disconcerting. Gustav, you knew my name. As soon as the Yuneec, my plane, my drone, I don’t know what you’d call it, the thing I came in…’

  ‘The highly modified Yuneec e430,’ said Gustav calmly.

  ‘Yes, yes, well, as soon as it was put down here, on this, on Cloud Nine, as soon as I opened my door you seemed to know who I was.’

  ‘Yes, we know who you are.’

  ‘How do you know who I am?’

  ‘Hopefully all will be revealed to you presently.’

  ‘Hopefully?’

  ‘Yes, we are attempting to navigate our way to the requisite docking point but as you may be able to imagine, navigating a vessel such as Cloud Nine is not an easy matter. We go where the weather goes and while we can predict fairly accurately where that will take us, we have learned that when it comes to weather,’ he stopped and smiled, then leant forward and put a hand on my shoulder, ‘nothing is certain.’

  ‘Okay, well maybe you can explain that,’ I said, gesturing out of the window above my head. ‘We seem to be above the sea.’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘But when I came out of the cloud, when I was surrounded by those round things, I’m fairly confident I was over land, at least I think I was.’

  ‘Again, correct, however, we have moved a considerable distance since you arrived. We are now over the North Sea, just off the western coast of Norway.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We are travelling with the jet stream, Gavin, at present taking us on a north-easterly path.’

  ‘So this is sort of like a balloon?’ I asked.

  ‘No, it is not sort of like a balloon, Gavin, it is a balloon. Cloud Nine is a very large balloon. It is over five kilometres in length and roughly three kilometres wide. We hope that by this time tomorrow we will be in a calm area over Siberia where we will reconnect with the others.’

  ‘The others?’

  ‘The other clouds. We are one of ten clouds presently although another ten are under construction. When the weather allows we connect with the others and form one super cloud, nearly 50 kilometres across.’

  ‘But why?’ I asked, staring at this perfectly sane-looking old bloke. ‘Why on earth do you float about on clouds?’

  ‘Remember the moment you got out of the Yuneec e430 this morning, when we met you on the rear court?’ Gustav asked.

  ‘Yeah, it’s not going to be something I can quickly forget.’

  ‘Gut, well, did you feel the wind?’

  ‘Wind?’

  ‘Yes, do you remember as we helped you walk across the court, do you remember feeling moving air, was your hair blown about, did you feel the wind on your skin?’

  I thought for a moment. ‘No,’ I said. ‘It seemed very still.’

  ‘Indeed, and yet there was a wind blowing, about 150 kilometres an hour at ground level. Nothing unusual, but we were moving with the wind and hence felt nothing.’

  As had been the case in Gardenia and London 2211, every single explanation raised a million new questions.

  ‘So that’s why you live on this?’ I said, gesturing around me.

  ‘Well, to say we live on the cloud would be a little misleading. We stay on it from time to time, a few months of rest every now and then, plus we get to travel and see the rest of the world. Living in the culverts can be a little claustrophobic.’

  ‘The culverts?’

  Gustav smiled at me and with a slow and gentle movement put a bony hand on my shoulder. ‘You will soon see. It is very different here from anything you are used to, but please do not be stressed, you will be fine, we will look after you.’

  4

  I followed gustav out of my pure white circular chamber and down a tubular white corridor. The closeness of the walls helped me navigate my way along the windowless but bright tube. I was leaning against one side of the structure as Gustav held my arm firmly, he didn’t seem to need any support but he did walk in a peculiar way.

  ‘It’s really hard to walk,’ I said.

  ‘It takes a little getting us
ed to,’ he replied. He didn’t glance at me but seemed to be looking toward the end of the long tube we were in.

  ‘You will discover if you accept the floor, it will support you, your body will adjust. Don’t try to fight the floor, accept it.’

  That comment immediately irked me. It made me think of some of the holier-than-thou mystics that Beth used to get so enthusiastic about, weird old Indian blokes who’d written hokey books or inscrutable Japanese Zen teachers who gave talks in Oxford colleges. ‘Allow the floor to support you, do not fight the floor, the floor loves you and will support you.’

  Annoying.

  We wobbled our way through another circular door to one side of the long tube and I was confronted with a truly massive tubular room that was very full of people. Not dozens, more like hundreds. All ages, races and heights were represented but one thing was certain, they were shorter and thinner than anyone I’d met in either Gardenia or London. I suddenly felt very tall and a bit tubby – everyone was bony thin.

  There was an air of the refugee about these people. I don’t mean refugees like terrified families fleeing a civil war or drought, they didn’t look scared but they did look a bit battered by life.

  Most were sitting in long rows eating something out of white bowls. Walking up and down the rows were women dressed in a similar way to the woman who’d furnished me with a drink, again I couldn’t recall her name. They had some kind of backpack strapped to them, a long tube appeared over their shoulders and they were clearly delivering some kind of food to the people sitting on the floor.

  The bowls everyone was eating out of were an unusual design, they were all identical and they reminded me of a Danish eggcup my mum had brought back from a weekend trip to Copenhagen when I was a kid. A bright blue plastic moulded unit with a saucer built in. I loved that eggcup; I thought it was very modern.

  The all-in-one moulded bowl thing I saw people eating from had a built-in sort of dish at the bottom. I suppose it was in case any of the contents of the bowl spilled as the person holding it tried to walk around.

  Most of these people ignored me as I wobbled between two rows of seated diners, all the time being supported by Gustav. Some of them looked up at me and smiled as we passed by, I couldn’t help but attract a bit of attention as it was obvious I had no idea how to walk on the absurd flexible floor. However, one thing I noticed as I crashed and wobbled my jumpy way through the crowd was that my movements didn’t seem to affect them. It wasn’t like I was on a giant trampoline and they were bouncing up and down in response to my ungainliness. They seemed unaffected by my incompetence.

  ‘As you can see, it’s supper time,’ said Gustav as we continued to make our way through the crowds. ‘I imagine you might be hungry.’

  ‘Yes, I am a bit peckish,’ I said.

  The space we had entered was not silent but the sound was vaguely familiar, not like noisy diners in a giant canteen, more like being at an enormous wedding reception in a massive marquee, only this was a giant pressurised tubular tent. The sound in the cloud was quite unique. There was, I suppose, no echo caused by solid walls but there was a kind of hollow ringing in my ears. I couldn’t make out anything anyone was saying but there was a lot of chatter going on.

  ‘Who are all these people?’ I asked.

  ‘They are just people,’ Gustav answered. ‘Some of them work on the cloud, some of them are moving to another area, some are resting.’

  ‘Resting.’

  ‘Yes, a lot of people use the clouds to rest, it’s very peaceful. Some of them are sick and attending rehab or injury clinics, I can show you one of the hospices later if you wish.’

  None of this information really helped me. It was once again a completely overwhelming experience. Although I’d just woken I already felt frazzled. I hadn’t really had time to take in what had happened to me again. I realised that as I flew toward the cloud over the Squares of London, I hadn’t been hoping, as I had done in Gardenia, to get back to 2011, I was just eager to get into the cloud in time, as I knew I had a limited window when the anomaly would allow me to pass through.

  All my attention and focus had been on flying the Yuneec, on marvelling at the power and aerobatic ability of my new plane, not about getting back home.

  But now, in the maelstrom of chaotic people, in this vast, pressurised tubular hall floating above the ground I suddenly felt very lonely and miserable. I wanted something normal, something I understood: a small semi-detached house in Kingham, the smell of burnt toast and coffee. I suddenly wanted to walk in through the door and be greeted by Beth, Beth in a good mood of course, Beth when she was happy to see me.

  ‘You can ask anything you wish,’ said Gustav, ‘but first, let me introduce you to Hector, he is very keen to meet you and he can explain things a lot better than I. He is a native English speaker.’

  We turned left into a long tubular corridor and off that into a small circular room.

  ‘This is the crew space,’ said Gustav. We entered through a small circular opening and there, sitting at the far end on a large white cushion thing, sat an enormous bearded figure. It was almost a relief to see someone who was a bit portly. I don’t mean fat like the massive people of 2011, just a bit more rotund than anyone I’d seen on the cloud.

  ‘Gavin bloody Meckler, good to see you, my man,’ said this big bearded bloke whose name, I wasn’t surprised to realise, I’d already forgotten.

  ‘Gavin, this is Hector,’ said Gustav helpfully. ‘Hector is the captain of Cloud Nine.’

  ‘Hector, of course. Hector, how do you do, Hector?’ I said holding out my hand. He reached up to shake it but I’d already lost my balance. Gustav clearly wasn’t holding my other arm at that moment and I fell to the floor. It wasn’t painful in physical terms, the floor was very soft, but it was deeply embarrassing.

  I suppose I wasn’t concentrating on what I was doing because I’d been repeating Hector over and over in my head. ‘Gustav and Gertrude met me beside the plane, Ebrikke prodded my brain with her weird fingers, this is Hector, Hector, Hector, he’s the captain. Captain Hector, Hector.’ This was the dirge I was saying to myself.

  I heard laughter as I slowly managed to raise myself onto all fours. It became clear that this huge Hector fellow wasn’t alone. All around him, and I cannot imagine how I didn’t notice them before, were a group of people dressed in a similar kind of uniform as the oversized captain.

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ said a young woman in whose lap I had just buried my face.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, trying to gather up what was left of my dignity. ‘I’m not used to the floor.’

  ‘He’s not used to the floor! Spectacular!’ said Hector loudly. He reminded me a bit of Brian Blessed. He rolled his eyes as he spoke, his mouth was enormous and revealed a great many equally impressive teeth.

  ‘Don’t try and get up, man, stay as low down as you bloody can, the rest of us might be able to relax and eat our lunch if you’re not falling all over the shop.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said again.

  ‘Don’t be sorry, it was very amusing,’ Hector bellowed. ‘I know I’m an amazing chap, but I don’t think I’ve ever had someone literally fall over when they met me. Must be my charisma.’

  Hector followed this statement with a big laugh. I was intrigued to notice he was the only person laughing, the people around him either ignored him or shook their heads and muttered things I couldn’t pick up.

  As I looked around the faces staring at me I smiled weakly. There was a small boy next to the woman in whose lap I’d just landed, and another group of young children were sitting on the far side of the gathering.

  ‘Would you like something to eat, Gavin?’ asked a woman who was to my right. I was still on all fours on the softly undulating floor and really didn’t feel I was in a confident position to respond to anyone.

/>   ‘Hang on,’ I said, and slowly manoeuvred myself into a sitting position. I think I said sorry about 15 more times as I tried not to fall on anyone.

  ‘Yes, that would be very nice, thank you,’ I said when I finally achieved a static seated position and didn’t feel like I was about to topple over.

  I watched the woman lean over and reach for one of the white bowls that was placed on what looked like a stable flat surface at the side of the space we were in. I immediately wished I could sit on that, it looked solid. She passed the bowl to me with great care.

  ‘It’s noodles today, they’re very good,’ she said with a kind smile.

  I took the bowl and thanked her.

  A small plastic spoon was resting on the one-piece drip tray part of the bowl. I started eating. It wasn’t bad, a bit like a Pot Noodle, and as a nerdy engineer I was very familiar with Pot Noodle.

  The woman watched me as I ate. I looked up and smiled at her. She was possibly in her fifties, with grey streaks of hair leading away from her temples and she was dressed in a kind of quilted dark cream suit which looked like it had seen a lot of use.

  Her dress code seemed pretty universal – everyone except the captain seemed to be in a variation of the same outfit. As I glanced at him I noticed he was staring at me with a big grin showing through his impressive dark beard.

  ‘Now you are settled, Mister Meckler, I’d like to welcome you board Cloud Nine.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I spluttered through a mouthful of noodles.

  ‘She’s a pretty impressive ship, is she not?’

  I nodded as my mouth was so full I knew trying to speak would result in showers of half-chewed food flying out. I’d already embarrassed myself enough.

  ‘As you have no doubt been told by my trusty companion and meteorologist Gustav Nussbaum, this particular cloud is 4.7 kilometres long and 2.3 kilometres wide.’

  I swallowed. ‘I didn’t know the exact dimensions,’ I said, ‘but Gustav gave me a rough estimate.’

  ‘Yes, he’s good at giving rough estimates, isn’t that right, Gustav?’