Wings

18

The North Star took off, right on schedule, on the morning of October 4, as planned, with a crowd of hundreds watching. The cardinal of Los Angeles blessed the plane. There was champagne for everyone, and she took off into the horizon on a circuitous route that was designed to break distance records, and accommodate the vagaries of world politics at the moment.

They flew south first to Guatemala City, covering two thousand two hundred miles at one gulp, without refueling. And when they arrived, they checked their maps, the weather, and spent some time investigating the area, and talking to the locals. People were fascinated by the plane, and flocked to the airport to see them. Desmond had done his homework well. People all over the world knew of Cassie's journey.

The press were waiting for them en masse at the Guatemala City airport, along with ambassadors, envoys, diplomats, and politicians. There was a marimba band playing, and Cassie and Billy posed for photographs. No one had gotten as much attention since Charles Lindbergh.

“Not a bad life, huh?” Cassie teased him as they took off for San Cristóbal in the Galápagos the next day, a mere eleven hundred miles, which took them just over three hours in the extraordinary plane Williams Aircraft had built them. Desmond had gotten his first wish this time. They had just set a record for speed and distance.

“Maybe we should just stop somewhere for a vacation,” Billy suggested, and she grinned as they were met by Ecuadorian officials, American military personnel, and local natives. There were more photographers, and the governor of the islands invited them to dinner.

The trip was going beautifully, and they spent a day there, checking the plane over carefully, and checking maps and weather again. Things couldn't have looked better.

From the Galápagos, they flew another twenty-four hundred miles to Easter Island in exactly seven hours. But this time they met with unexpected winds, and narrowly missed breaking the record.

“Better luck next time, kid,” Billy joked with her as they taxied down the runway at Easter Island. ‘that husband of yours is liable to burn our homesteads down if we don't get him some more records.” They both knew that Desmond had an eye on the Japanese who had been working on a plane for the past year which could fly nonstop from Tokyo to New York, a distance of nearly seven thousand miles, but so far they had encountered nothing but problems, and hadn't even made it as far as Alaska. Their first test flight was scheduled only a year from now. And Desmond had every intention of beating them to it, which was why these long distances across the Pacific interested him so greatly.

They found Easter Island a fascinating place while they refueled. It was filled with innocent, beautiful people and intriguing moai statues. There were stories that went back to prehistoric man, and mysteries Cassie would have loved to explore if she'd had the time to stay there.

They stayed on Easter Island for only one night, to rest up for the long leg the following day to Papeete, Tahiti. And this time they managed to just barely shave the record. They traveled two thousand seven hundred miles in seven hours fourteen minutes, without a single problem.

Landing in Tahiti was like arriving in Paradise, and as Billy looked out at the girls lined up along the runway in sarongs, waving at them and carrying leis, he let out a whoop of glee that brought Cassie to gales of laughter.

“My God, they're paying us to do this, Cass? Oh, baby, I don't believe this!”

“Behave yourself, or they're going to put us in jail if you go out there looking like that.” He was practically panting and drooling. He was like a big funny kid, and she loved flying with him. More importantly, he was an outstanding navigator and a brilliant mechanic.

In fact, he had picked up a noise he didn't like just after they took off from Easter Island. And after paying suitable homage to the local girls, he wanted to come back and check it out. When they cabled home that night, they mentioned it, but assured everyone that it was by no means a serious problem. They were giving them daily reports of their progress, and were relieved to be able to announce that they had just broken another record.

In Papeete, almost everyone spoke French, and Billy spoke just enough to get by. There was a dinner given by the French ambassador for them, and Cassie apologized that she had nothing to wear but her flight suit. Someone lent her a beautiful sarong instead, and she wore a big pink flower in her hair when Billy escorted her to dinner.

“You sure don't look like Lindy to me,” he said admiringly, putting an arm around her as they walked from their hotel to the embassy. But the relationship between them was strictly one of brother and sister. And as they walked along the beach afterward, talking about the trip, Cassie said sadly that she wished Nick could be there. Papeete was a magical place, and the people were wonderful. It was the most beautiful place she'd ever seen, and she resisted any comparison to her honeymoon in Mexico. That was a memory she wanted to forget now.

She and Billy sat on the beach late that night, talking about the people they'd met, the things they'd seen. The dinner at the embassy had been impressively civilized, and even in a sarong she felt somewhat out of place, though less so than she would have in her wrinkled flight suit.

“Sometimes the things we do still stagger me,” Cassie said with a smile, fingering the flower she'd worn in her hair that evening. “I mean how did we get so lucky? Look at the plane we're flying all over the world… the people we meet… the places we go… it's like someone else's life… how did I get here? Do you ever feel like that, Billy?” She felt so young sometimes, so old at others. At twenty-two, she felt like she'd had a lot of good luck, and not much bad luck, all things considered. But that was the way she saw things.

“I'd say you paid a high price for this trip, Cass… higher than I did,” he said seriously, thinking of her marriage, “but yeah, I feel like that. I keep waiting for someone to grab me by the scruff of the neck, and say ‘hey, what's that kid doing here? He doesn't belong here!’”

“You belong here,” she said warmly. “You're the best there is. I wouldn't have done this without you.” The only other person she could think of who she would have liked to fly it with was Nick. Maybe some day.

“It's gonna be over too soon, you know that, Cass. I thought of that when we got here. Zip… it's over… gone… you plan and practice and sweat for a whole year, and then whoops… ten days… it's over.” They were almost halfway there already, and Cassie felt sad thinking about it. She didn't want the trip to end so quickly.

They walked slowly back to their hotel after that, and she said something to Billy that surprised him. “I guess I should be grateful to Desmond for all this… and I am… but in a funny way, it doesn't seem like his trip now. He told all those lies, and did all his scheming, but it's our trip. We're doing it. We're here. He isn't. Somehow, all of a sudden, he doesn't seem all that important.” It was a relief for her, and Billy was glad she wasn't tormenting herself about the rotten deal she'd gotten from her erstwhile husband.

“Forget him, Cass. When we go back, all of that will be history. You'll have all the glory.”

“I don't think the glory is ever what I wanted,” she said honestly. “I just wanted the experience, to know I could do it.” But not enough to ruin someone's life for.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed, but he was also realistic about the hullabaloo that would come later. “But the glory won't be bad either.” He smiled boyishly and she laughed, and then looked at him seriously.

“I was going to file for divorce before we left, but I decided to wait until after the trip, just in case some nosy reporter got wind of it. I didn't want to screw things up by moving too soon. But all the papers are ready and signed.” She sighed as she remembered going to the lawyer's office. It had been a painful experience telling him what had happened.

“What are you going to get him on?” Billy asked with interest. He could think of at least half a dozen things, none of them pleasant, starting with adultery, and ending with breaking Cassie's heart, if that was officially grounds for divorce now.

“I guess fraud, for a start. It sounds terrible, but the lawyer says we have grounds.” And then of course there was Nancy. “I think we're going to try to come to some quiet, mutual agreement. Maybe a divorce in Reno, if he'll agree to it. At least then it would be over quickly.”

“I'm sure he will,” Billy said wisely. And then they left each other for the night, and met again over breakfast on the terrace the next morning.

“What do you say we tell them they can have their plane back, and we just stay here?” He smiled happily at her, eating an omelet and croissants, and a big cup of strong French coffee, all served by a sixteen-year-old native girl with a breathtaking figure in a pareu.

“You don't think you'd get bored?” She smiled as she sat down next to him. She liked it here too, but she was excited about moving on, to Pago Pago, and then Howland Island.

“I'd never get bored,” he said, smiling up at the girl and then glancing happily at Cassie. “I think I'd like to end my life on an island. What about you?”

“Maybe.” She looked unconvinced, and then she smiled at him over coffee. “I think I'll probably end my life the way I started it, under the belly of an airplane. Maybe they could build me a special wheelchair.”

“Sounds great. I'll build you one.”

“Maybe you'd better check out the North Star first.”

“You mean I can't lie on the beach all day?” He pretended to look shocked, but half an hour later, they were both going over the plane with a fine-tooth comb in all seriousness. The jokes were over. And predictably, the photographers, and the visitors, came to watch them.

They were carrying a huge load of fuel on the North Star, and very little else except emergency supplies, a radio, life jackets, life raft. They had everything they needed. And the temptation was great at each stop to bring home souvenirs from their travels. But they had no room, and they didn't want to weigh the plane down with a single ounce of anything that was not absolutely essential.

They shared a quiet dinner that night at the hotel, and watched an extravagantly gorgeous sunset, and then they took a walk on the beach and went to bed early. And the next morning, they took off for Pago Pago.

They made it in four and a half hours, and this time broke no records. But it was easy flying, all except for a small noise Billy thought he heard in one of their engines. It was the same thing he'd heard the day before, and it was oddly persistent.

Pago Pago was a fascinating place, though they only spent one night, and they spent most of it at the airport. Billy wanted to find the cause of the noise that had been bothering him, and by midnight he thought he'd located it. It was annoying him, but he was still convinced it wasn't a major problem.

They cabled home again, as they did from every stop, and in the morning they left for Howland Island. They had already covered more than nine thousand miles, and in Cassie's mind they were almost there, though there were still more than three thousand miles between them and Honolulu. But they had already done more than half the trip, and knowing they were approaching Howland, where most people believed Earhart had gone down, made her nostalgic.

“What are you going to do after all this?” she asked Billy as they shared a sandwich two hours out from Pago Pago. The woman at the place they'd stayed had been very nice, and had insisted on giving them a basket of fruit and sandwiches, which turned out to be delicious.

“Me?” Billy thought about it. “I don't know… invest my money somewhere, maybe like your father did. I'd like to run a charter service somewhere. Maybe even someplace crazy like Tahiti.” He had really loved Papeete. “What about you, Cass?” They had nothing but time on their hands, as they shared the basket of food, and flew over the shimmering Pacific.

“I don't know. I get confused sometimes. Sometimes I think this is it for me… planes… test flights… airports… that's all I want… other times I wonder if I should do other things, like be married, and have kids.” She looked sad for a moment, looking out at the horizon. “I thought I had it worked out with Desmond, but I guess not. I don't know,” she shrugged, “I guess I'll have to refigure it when we go home. I sure didn't win on this one.”

“I think you had the right idea, wrong guy. It happens that way sometimes. What about Nick?”

“What about him?” She still didn't have any of the answers. He had been so adamant about not marrying her before, but maybe now, after Desmond, it would be different. She still hadn't told him. And who knew when she'd see him again? Who knew anything now, except what they were doing right now. For the moment, life was very simple.

The stop at Howland was very emotional for her because of Amelia Earhart. She and Billy were carrying a wreath to drop from the plane just before they reached the island.

Billy opened a window for her, just as they came in to land, and she dropped it with a silent prayer for the woman she had never known but admired all her life. She thanked her for being an example to her, and hoped she had had an easy death, and a life that was worthwhile to her. Looking at lives like hers, it was hard to know what people felt, or who they really were. Now that Cassie had been devoured by the press, she knew that most of it meant nothing. But she felt an odd kinship with her idol as she and Billy landed quietly after a twelve-hundred-mile flight. It was so simple for them. It had gone so easily. Why couldn't it have been that way for Amelia Earhart?

Billy patted her knee as the plane came to a stop; it was easy to see all that she was feeling, and he loved her for it.

At Howland, there were photographers waiting for them, courtesy of Desmond Williams. And the expected parallels were drawn between Cassie and Amelia Ear-hart.

They were only planning to spend one night, before the nearly two-thousand-mile flight to Honolulu. And it was there that Desmond had planned ceremonies and events, awards and honors, press conferences and films, and even a demonstration of the North Star to the Army at Hickam Airfield. It sounded exciting to both of them, but it was also a little scary. Everything was so much simpler here. In some ways it would be the last night of peace they had for a long time. And Cassie hated the prospect of seeing Desmond again. Just thinking about it depressed her.

She was quiet when they had dinner alone that night, and with what lay ahead of them, Billy wasn't surprised, that and the fact that she was still feeling emotional about Earhart.

“It's scary going back to all of it again, isn't it?” she said after dinner, sipping a cup of coffee.

“Yeah… and exciting.” It was less complicated for him, he didn't have the strain of her history with Desmond. “it'll all be over soon, in a great flash of light,” he beamed, “like a Fourth of July firework display, now you see it, now you don't, catch the shooting star. Well be famous for a minute, and then gone,” he said prophetically, “until someone else flies farther and faster.” But they'd be remembered for a long time. Their fame wouldn't be gone as quickly as he thought. Desmond was right about some things, and what they were doing was important.

‘This time tomorrow night, well be in Honolulu, Miss O'Malley,” he said, toasting her with a small glass of wine. He only had a few sips, knowing that the next day he'd be flying. ‘think of the fanfare, the excitement.” His eyes danced and she smiled wanly.

“I'd rather not. I go pale thinking of it. Maybe we should just go back, and surprise them by going home the way we came. Now there's a thought.” She laughed at the idea and he shook his head, amused by her. They always had a good time together.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Williams, my pilot was confused, well, you know how it is… she's just a girl… girls can't really fly, everyone knows that… actually, she had the map upside down…” They were both laughing, amused at their own schemes, but the next day, when they took off, some of what she'd said proved to be prophetic.

They hit an unexpected lightning storm two hundred miles out, and after assessing the situation, and the winds, they agreed to go back to Howland Island. And as they attempted to land, it grew to a tropical storm of surprising proportions, and Cassie couldn't help wondering if this was what had happened to Noonan and Ear-hart. But she had her hands full bringing the plane down in ferocious winds that almost blew them off the island. In the end, they came down hard and fast in a cross-wind, and almost missed the runway. It took everything she had to bring the North Star down, and when they stopped, they were within inches of landing in the water.

“May I remind you,” Billy said casually to her as she fought to turn the plane around, ‘that if you drop this airplane in the drink, we're going to be in serious trouble with Mr. Williams.”

She couldn't help but laugh at his warning, and she wasn't entirely sorry to spend another night on Howland. It was far from an exciting place, but at least her life was peaceful. Perhaps for the last time. She couldn't imagine what it would be like for them after Honolulu.

By late that night, the storm had calmed down but they discovered early the next morning that it had damaged their direction finder beyond repair. She and Billy both felt it was safe to fly on anyway, but they radioed ahead to Honolulu that they would need a new one upon arrival. The day was sunny and bright as they left early for the eighteen-hundred-mile flight to Honolulu. But three hundred miles out of Howland, they ran into another problem. It seemed to be a problem with one of their engines. Billy was checking for an oil leak, with a quiet frown, and she was watching him, checking their gauges.

“Want to go back?” she asked calmly, keeping her eyes on her instruments.

“I'm not sure yet,” he answered, still puzzled.

He played with one of the engines for a while, listening, fixing, adjusting, and after another hundred miles out, he reassured her that everything was in control. She nodded and kept a close eye on the instruments, she wanted to be sure she agreed with him.

Cassie left nothing to chance, which was why she was so good. Billy appeared to be a lot more casual than she was, but he was also extraordinarily careful. And he had an uncanny sixth sense about flying, which was why she loved flying with him. They were a perfect team.

She changed her course slightly after that, to avoid some heavy clouds ahead, and what looked like rough weather. And it was early afternoon when he looked out at the autumn sky, and then at her compass. “Are you sure we're heading right? It feels off to me.”

‘Trust your compass,” she said, sounding like an instructor, as she smiled at him. It was the one instrument she always trusted and the only reliable information they had, since both the sextant and the direction finder had broken in the storm.

‘Trust your eyes… your nose… your guts… and then your compass.” He was right, as it turned out. With a brisk wind they were slightly off course, but not enough to worry them, and then as she checked the instruments again, she looked up and saw smoke in their number-two engine and thin streams of fuel running back across the number one.

“Shit,” she muttered and pointed it out to him as she cut the power to the number-two engine and feathered the prop. They were already a long way from Howland. “We'd better go back.” They'd been in the air for two hours, and were already out of radio contact.

“Anything closer than that?” He checked the map, and saw a small island. “What's this?”

“I'm not sure.” She looked at it. “It looks like bird shit.”

“Very funny. Give me a reading, where are we?” She read the compass off to him, while he looked out at the engine. He wasn't pleased with what he saw, or the knowledge that they were carrying (our hundred gallons of fuel near the engine.

They flew on for a few more minutes and decided to try for the island they'd seen on the map. But Cassie was worried about putting the North Star down there. If the island was too small, the plane too large, they wouldn't make it. They agreed to land on the beach if they had to. They were out of radio range. Billy checked the engine again, but the news wasn't good. Then he put the headphones on and tried sending distress signals to any ships that might be near them.

But as they looked out the window, they both saw that the engine was burning.

“Happy birthday, Cass. And that's not a cake.”

“Shit.”

“Precisely. How far are we from Bird Shit Island?”

“Maybe another fifty miles, give or take a few.”

“Wonderful. Just what we need, another fifteen minutes with four hundred gallons of fuel in our armpits. Oh goody.”

“Go sing to yourself or something,” she said calmly.

“You have the worst ideas,” he said while flipping some levers, and checking the other engine. “No wonder you can't get a decent job.” They were joking, but they were not amused. The North Star was in trouble.

Ten minutes later the island came into view, and they checked it out No flatland. Nothing but trees, and what looked like a small mountain.

“How well can you swim?” he asked conversationally, handing her a life jacket as a matter of routine. He already knew that she was an excellent swimmer. “Looks like we're going to the beach, eh, ducky?”

“Maybe so, cowboy… maybe so…” She was concentrating on holding the plane. It was starting to pull very badly. And the other engine had begun to smoke too. “What do you suppose is happening?” They were both puzzled by what was going on, but they wouldn't know what till they reached the ground. And that was going to be soon now. At first Billy had thought the fuel lines were clogged, but that wasn't it. Something was defective.

‘Too much lighter fluid maybe?”

“Well, don't light up a Lucky now,” she warned him, prepared to land. She circled the island twice, made a pass at the beach once, and took off again, with both engines burning. She knew she needed to dump fuel, but there just wasn't time now.

“You want to try for New York?” he asked calmly, watching her maneuver the heavy plane over the tiny island.

“I think maybe Tokyo,” she answered, never taking her eyes off what she was doing. “Tachikawa is going to pay a fortune for the test flight.”

“Great idea. Let's try it. Who needs Desmond Williams?”

“Okay, here we go again,” Cassie said, concentrating on every detail. “Christ, that beach is short dammit…” And the engines were hot and flaming.

“I hate to say this, my dear,” Billy said calmly, putting on his own life jacket, “but if you don't get your ass down there soon, we are going to make a very embarrassing explosion on this island. It might make a very bad impression on the natives.”

“I'm working on it,” she said through her teeth.

“Want some help?”

“From a kid like you? Hell, no.” She came in as low as she could, and used all her strength on the stick; she was almost down, and had just overshot the beach when they hit the water. The plane came to a stop, and sank slowly into three feet of water, as she cut the switches, hoping it wouldn't explode but there was no guarantee now.

“Nice landing, now let's go. Fast.” He grabbed her to push her from the plane, before she could take anything. Instinctively, she reached for their emergency kit, while he struggled to get the door open. Both engines were on fire, and you could feel the heat in the cockpit. He had the door open by then, and shouted to her. “Co!” He pushed her out and clear of the plane almost before she knew what had hit her. He had the log and a small knapsack in his hand that she knew held their money, and that was it. They waded through the water as fast as they could and headed for the beach at a dead run. They ran another fifty feet down to the end of it, and just as they reached it, there was an enormous explosion. They turned and watched as the entire plane was outlined in flames, and pieces of it flew into the trees and farther into the water. There was a huge tunnel of fire towering above it, from their fuel, and it burned for hours as they watched it in shocked fascination.

“So long, North Star,“ Billy said, as the last of it disappeared into the water. All that was left was a shell of what had been. All those men and all that work, all those months and hours and calculation, ended in a moment. They had covered eleven thousand miles of their trip. And it was over. They were alive. They had survived it. That was all that mattered. “And here we are,” Billy said conversationally, as he handed her a piece of candy from the knapsack, “on Bird Shit Island. Have a great vacation.” She looked at him and laughed; she was too tired and too upset to cry, or scream. All she could hope was that someone would figure out that they were gone when they failed to reach Honolulu, and send the troops out looking. She knew all the efforts they'd made to find Earhart four years before. But she also knew how much outcry there had been at the expense. But if nothing else than for the publicity involved, and to recover the plane, she knew that Desmond would stop at nothing to find them. He'd call Roosevelt himself if he had to. He'd play heavily on the fact that she was America's sweetheart and people loved her. They would have to find her.

“Well, Miss O'Malley, what do you say we call room service and order a drink?” They had been there for four hours by then, watching their plane disintegrate along with their hope of leaving. Now they had to be rescued. “It wouldn't have been a real record-breaking trip, if this hadn't happened,” he said confidently. He was sure that they would be rescued within a day or so, and it would be exciting in the telling.

“Desmond will think I did this as revenge,” she grinned. There was a funny side to it too. But barely. If they let themselves, they could have gotten seriously worried. She wondered if it had been like this for Noonan and Earhart, or if it had been more dramatic or quicker. Maybe they had died on impact. Or maybe they were still sitting on an island like this one. It was an intriguing thought, but unlikely. And not very hopeful.

“I kind of figured you did this as revenge too,” Billy commented casually. “I can't say I blame you. I wish you'd have done it a little closer to Tahiti. The waitress was great-looking.”

“So has been every girl since LA” She was feeling less cheerful than he, but she was grateful for his sense of humor.

“Not here. Definitely not here.” The island was totally deserted.

They went on a reconnaissance mission then, and found a small stream, and a lot of bushes with berries. As desert islands went, it seemed fairly comfortable, with everything they needed. There were some fruits which they didn't recognize, but when they tried them that night they found they were delicious. It was strange being here, but it didn't seem so terrible, as long as they weren't stuck here forever. The prospect of that was more than a little frightening, but Cass wouldn't let herself think of it, as they lay side by side in a cave they found that night.

They were both awake for a long time, and finally, she decided to ask the question. “Billy?”

“Yeah?”

“What if they don't find us?”

“They will.”

“What if they don't?”

‘They have to.”

“Why?” Her eyes were huge in the darkness and he was holding her hand very gently. “Why do they have to find us?”

“Because Desmond will want to sue you for the plane. He's not going to let you get away with this.” He grinned in the dark and she laughed.

“Oh shut up.”

“See what I mean… not to worry.” But he rolled over and held her close to him, and he didn't tell her he was scared too. He had never been so frightened in his life, and there was nothing he could do for her but hold her.