“He might have,” Theo said slowly. “If he thought it was something worth doing.”
“What shall I do?” her mother wailed. “Now I’ll have to write back, explain it’s a mistake, drag it all up again—”
“I’ll go, Mother.”
“You can’t go around collecting undeserved medals! They’ve got to be told—”
“It bloody well is deserved,” Theo said through her teeth.
“How in the name of God can you say that!”
Theo drew in a sharp breath. She had left the RAF by choice; she did not deserve a medal. “I mean, it might have been. It’s a way to remember Kim as he might have been.”
“You can’t waste the RAF’s time like this!” her mother snarled at her in fury.
That took Theo like a slap in the face, for she knew all too well what little time they had.
“I’ll go and tell them it’s a mistake,” Theo said.
She wrote for an appointment with North. She took the train from Canterbury to Maidsend. She wore a nicely cut wool dress in a dark green paisley print, and a green felt hat decorated with two sharp pheasant feathers, and Graham picked her up from the station in his MG.
“Miss Lyons,” he said blandly, shaking her hand. “I’m Flight Lieutenant Honeywell. Maybe you remember me.”
“You were at school with Kim,” said Theo. “Of course I remember you. How do you do?”
He escorted her to the CO’s office.
Leland North of the gaunt look and red hair shook Theo’s hand as well. He dismissed Graham. Theo gave her little speech, which was not exactly the same speech she had rehearsed for her parents the night before.
“Suppose,” she began, “suppose Kim Lyons was knocked over by a van last spring.”
Burning with shame, for in her heart she could not help thinking of herself as a deserter, Theo laid her brother’s alternative history before Leland North; and her own.
“You see why I can’t take the medal,” she finished.
“I . . . see.”
They were both silent.
“It makes no difference to me, you know,” North said at last. “From where I stand, I’ve just lost one more decent, dedicated pilot. I’m damned if I won’t see the name T. Kimball Lyons, DFC, put down on my squadron’s roll of honor.”
He did not accuse her of cowardice. He understood why she had had to pull out.
Theo had been so in awe of him as her commanding officer, and so wary, that she had never thought of him as a human being. “Thank you,” she said, with relief and gratitude. “Oh, thank you.”
“I don’t suppose you ever put much thought into what you’ll make of your own name, did you?” he asked.
“I’m training to be a radio operator.”
“Wouldn’t you rather be flying? ” he challenged her, point-blank, and Theo’s mind suddenly flashed with a vision of the high, quiet England of her dreams, and her eyes filled with tears.
“You could join the Air Transport Auxiliary,” North said. “They already have a few women pilots doing ferry work for them, and I don’t doubt those girls’ll be delivering us fresh Spits and Hurricanes within the next six months, if the war goes on.”
Theo said carefully, “The ATA doesn’t train you, though. You have to have two hundred fifty hours of flying before they’ll consider you.”
Leland North dropped all pretence and exclaimed, “For God’s sake, Lyons, have you not got two hundred fifty hours yet? ”
“Nowhere near,” Theo said. “And anyway, I haven’t got a log book to prove it.”
“I’ll see what I can do for you,” North said. “Suppose I saw you fly as a civilian, before the war, before your log book was destroyed in an air raid. Suppose we flew at the same club. Suppose I taught you to fly.”
“I’d say you did teach me to fly, sir,” said Theo.
North smiled. Theo realized she had never seen him smile before. It made him look younger.
“Come be introduced to your brother’s squadron,” he said. “I’m sure the lads will all want to meet you.”
He led her through the mess hall to the favored spot in front of the double fires, where the warmth and the arm chairs were. Some of the faces were new, and some were missing. John Manston, Theo’s old squadron leader, was not there. The ones Theo had flown with stood up and saluted.
“Don’t be silly,” Theo told them.
“They all recognize you,” North said. “You have your brother’s face.”
They made her toast over the fire and laced her tea with whisky.
“What are you going to do now—I mean, what are you doing?” Graham asked her.
Theo smiled slowly. “I’m going to be a Spitfire pilot, of course,” she said. “Like my brother. I’m going to join the ATA.”
“There must be more to you than meets the eye,” Graham said gravely.
The tired, haunted, familiar young men burst into merry laughter.
ELIZABETH E. WEIN has looped the loop in a Tiger Moth in real life, though not at the controls. She has, however, flown a couple of loops herself in a Cessna Aerobat with a very brave instructor.
Elizabeth is a member of the Ninety-Nines, the International Organization of Women Pilots. She was awarded the Scottish Aero Club’s Watson Cup for best student pilot in 2003, of which she is inordinately proud. She has never had to work so hard for anything in her entire life.
Her most recent novels are The Lion Hunter and The Empty Kingdom, which together make up the two-book sequence called The Mark of Solomon.
Her Web site is www.elizabethwein.com.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Why did I write this story? I was ready. For a few reasons.
1. For forever I’d been an admirer of Deborah Sampson, the young woman who disguised herself as a man so she could join the Continental Army.
2. For some time, a Battle of Britain story had been niggling at my brain.
3. I’d just got a private pilot’s license. I’d written a couple of flying stories (“Chasing the Wind” in Firebirds, and “Chain of Events” in Rush Hour: Reckless). But I’d never written a story from the pilot’s point of view.
But mainly, 4. I was in love. I was upside-the-head head-over-heels weeping-as-you-read-the-operations-manual (I am not kidding) in love. I was in love with an aeroplane. I was in love with the Spitfire.
It all came together into “Something Worth Doing.”
There is one place in the story that always makes me cry. It’s Theo’s dream: she dreams she’s flying in winter, in peace-time, though in fact she’s never done either. But for me, the fire in the sky is history and fiction, and the quiet, open sky and valleys of frost are real. I am privileged to be able to do my flying in an empty sky.
I had a little help with my fact-checking. Arlene Huss, whose U.S. Army career brought her to Scotland on Mother’s Day in 1944, after a two-week-long ocean crossing, gave me lots of tips on military life in England during World War II. I am also indebted to James Allan of the Scottish Aero Club, who trained in Tiger Moths with the RAF. I’m proud to say I was there to witness his victory flight on the sixtieth anniversary of his first solo.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This is one of the most satisfying parts of any Firebird anthology—giving credit where credit is due. Many of the people listed below are rarely thanked in life, much less in print.
So, my fervent ongoing thanks to:
FIREBIRD
The editorial boards, especially the teens all over the world who weigh in
Geri Diorio and the folks in Ridgefield, Connecticut
Grace Lee, my assistant, who doesn’t even like genre fiction
PUFFIN
(Note: Firebird is an imprint of Puffin)
Eileen Kreit: President and Publisher
Gerard Mancini: Associate Publisher (and Mr. Patience) Tony Vernal: Associate Managing Editor (who can look into my office from across the hall and be very very scared)
Pat Shuldiner: Production edi
tor
Deborah Kaplan, Linda McCarthy, Nick Vitiello, Jeanine Henderson, Tony Sahara, Christian Fünfhausen, and Kristin Smith: Art directors and designers
Amy White and Jason Primm: Production
VIKING
(Note: Other than these anthologies and the Firebird short novels, all of the other fantasy and sf books I edit are published by Viking first.)
Regina Hayes: President and Publisher
Gerard Mancini and Kim Wiley Luna: Managing Editor and (very patient) Assistant Managing Editor
Denise Cronin, Nancy Brennan, Jim Hoover, Sam Kim, Kate Renner: Art directors and designers
Janet Pascal, Harriet Sigerman, and Nico Medina (in absentia): Production editors par excellence
Laurence Tucci and Andrea Crimi: Production
PENGUIN GROUP (USA) INC.
Greetings to the new: Don Weisberg, Felicia Frazier, Shanta Newlin
Doug Whiteman: former head of the children’s group (who still watches our exploits from across the street)
Mariann Donato (in absentia), Jackie Engel, Mary Margaret Callahan, Mary Raymond, Holly Ruck, Annie Hurwitz, Allan Winebarger, Ev Taylor: Sales
Jill Bailey, Colleen Conway, Nicole Davies, John Dennany, Biff Donovan, Alex Genis, Sheila Hennessey, Doni Kay, Steve Kent, Todd Jones, Nicole White: Field Sales reps
Diane Burdick, Vicki Congdon, Jeanne Conklin, Kathy Space, Diane Quattrocchi, Bob Talkiewicz, Carol Thatcher: Inside Sales
Emily Romero, Erin Dempsey, Rhalee Hughes (in absentia), Jessica Michaels, Gina Balsano, Lauren Adler, Ed Scully, Casey McIntyre, Julianne Lowell, Lisa DeGroff, Allison Verost: Marketing and Publicity
Scottie Bowditch, Kimberly Lauber, RasShahn Johnson-Baker, Leila Sales, Leslie Prives, Rachel Moore: School and Library Marketing
Courtney Wood and Jillian Laks: Online Marketing
George Schumacher and Camille DeLuca: Contracts
Helen Boomer (in absentia): Subsidiary Rights
Alan Walker: Academic Marketing
Susan Allison, Ginjer Buchanan, Anne Sowards: Ace
Betsy Wollheim, Sheila Gilbert, Debra Euler: DAW
Paul Slovak: Viking Adult
Sean McDonald: Riverhead
OTHER ROCK STARS
If you’re reading this book, you have my thanks. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being surprised and pleased when people e-mail, come up to me at cons, and otherwise invest themselves in the Firebird imprint.
Special thanks to Charles M. Brown, Liza Groen Trombi, Amelia Beamer, and the staff at Locus; Renee Babcock; Alan Beatts and Jude Feldman at Borderlands Books (www.borderlands-books.com); Jack Dann, Ellen Datlow, Gardner Dozois and Susan Casper, Cat Eldridge and the Green Man Review folks; Jo Fletcher and Simon Spanton, Diana Gill, Gavin Grant and Kelly Link, Anne Lesley Groell, Eileen Gunn, Jaime Levine, Elise Matthesen, Shawna McCarthy, Farah Mendlesohn, Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden, Stella Paskins, Bill Schafer, Christopher Schelling, Jonathan Strahan, Simon Taylor, Rodger Turner, Juliet Ulman, Jeff VanderMeer, Gordon Van Gelder, Michael Walsh, Jacob and Rina Weisman, Duane Wilkins, Jason Williams and Jeremy Lassen, and Terri Windling, among many others.
Thanks to FACT for ArmadilloCon, HRSFA for Vericon(s), and SSFFS for ConBust. An “alas” thanks to Chris Bell, Dave Devereux, and everyone in the ill-fated Convoy. Special aside to Travor Stafford: One day, I swear.
I want to again thank all of the authors in this book and their agents.
A special word to Mike Dringenberg: Thank you for the art and the cookies and hitting your deadline. Brilliant genius.
Thanks to our cover artists—especially Cliff Nielsen, who always comes through.
There are so many librarians, educators, and teachers who have gotten behind Firebird, and they all deserve applause.
BOOK NAMERS
Here’s a list of everyone who suggested I name this book Firebirds Soaring, in the order in which I received their e-mails.
Rod Lott (in his review of Firebirds Rising) Joe Sanford’s daughter
Raina Zheng
Peter Shor
Amanda Race
Nicole Jurceka
Heather Putnam
Olivia Pham
Thank you so much. Who knows what this book would have been called without you.
ABOUT THE EDITOR
SHARYN NOVEMBER was born in New York City and has stayed close by ever since. She received a B.A. from Sarah Lawrence College, where she studied and wrote poetry. Her work has appeared in Poetry, The North American Review, and Shenandoah, among other magazines, and she received a scholarship to Bread Loaf. She has been editing books for children and teenagers for close to twenty years, and is currently senior editor for Viking Children’s Books, as well as the editorial director of Firebird. Her writing about her work with teenage readers (both online and in person) has been published in The Horn Book and Voice of Youth Advocates. She has been a board member of USBBY and ALAN, as well as being actively involved in ALA, NCTE, and SFWA. She was named a World Fantasy Award Finalist (Professional Category) in both 2004 and 2005—in 2004 specifically for Firebird, in 2005 for editing. Firebirds Rising was a 2007 World Fantasy Award Finalist for Best Anthology.
She has played in a variety of bands (songwriter, lead singer, rhythm guitar), and maintains an extensive personal Web site at www.sharyn.org. She drinks a lot of Diet Mountain Dew and likes to cause chaos in her wake.
The Firebird Web site is at www.firebirdbooks.com.
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
MIKE DRINGENBERG was born in Laon, France, and grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah. (He is not a Mormon.) He is probably best known for his work as co-creator of DC/Vertigo’s Sandman series, with Neil Gaiman; he is responsible for the iconic representation of many of its principal characters. His work appears in the Sandman collections Preludes and Nocturnes, The Doll’s House, and Season of Mists.
He currently illustrates book jackets and CD covers, notably for various books by J. R. R. Tolkien, Kij Johnson, Kage Baker, and San Francisco’s Big City Orchestra.
Mike Dringenberg lives in Portland, Oregon, where he rides his bicycle everywhere.
—I’d like to extend my deepest thanks to Sharyn and Xenia (who posed) for their patience and friendship.
Firebirds Soaring Page 45
