Our flight
from Peru to Antarctica took less than an hour because of the plentiful clouds
over the Andes. Natalie and I simply chained our lightning together, zipping
along Tarzan-style.
We pushed ahead, moving over the heart of Antarctica. There, high above the continent and buried in the Southern polar vortex, the Retreat floated. It looked like a cloud, but to a Storm Rider who could see the air currents and feel clouds, it was different. For one, the air slipped around it, like around a plane in a wind tunnel, and when we landed on it, it felt denser, more firm, and then I noticed doors and windows.
We pushed ahead, moving over the heart of Antarctica. There, high above the continent and buried in the Southern polar vortex, the Retreat floated. It looked like a cloud, but to a Storm Rider who could see the air currents and feel clouds, it was different. For one, the air slipped around it, like around a plane in a wind tunnel, and when we landed on it, it felt denser, more firm, and then I noticed doors and windows.
Natalie
steered us inside, which resembled the inside of an apartment building. Natalie
guided us up stairs and to a small suite with furniture made from the same kind
of material as the rest of the not-a-cloud. Unlike normal cloud, the Retreat
supported more than just us. I was able to put my pack down without fear of it
dropping straight through to the frozen continent.
“So, what
do you think?”
“An
apartment in the clouds for two weeks? I love it. Best vacation ever.”
“It gets
better,” she threw her shirt at me.
I believed
her.