Conquerors of the Sky by Thomas Fleming Read Free Book Online Page A

ambition—to worship this evil thing?”
    Frank blanched. She was talking about the project to which he had vowed to dedicate his life until Craig took him to the Dominguez Hills air meet—to prove scientifically the survival of the soul after death.
    â€œI’ll never give it up entirely, Mother. But flying is so marvelous. You can’t believe how wonderful it is until you try it. Why don’t you let Craig take you for a ride?”
    â€œIf we crash, you can nag me for all eternity,” Craig said.

    â€œYour pride will be your undoing, Craig. You’ll meet the same fate as your ur-soul, Gath.”
    According to the Church of the Questing Spirit, every person in the world was an emanation of a handful of primary ur-souls, some of them evil, others good. The world was in perpetual conflict between these agents of light and darkness. If, as in Craig’s case, his ur-soul was evil, it required extra effort to achieve the light. Effort he of course declined to make.
    â€œIn the meantime, Madam, I hope to enjoy myself,” Craig said. “You should see how excited this death machine makes the girls in Long Beach. Frank is finding that out too, right?”
    â€œJust—by observation,” Frank said, blushing the color of his mother’s hair.
    â€œAbominable!” Althea cried. “He’s a child of light, an emanation of Mana, the noblest of the ur-souls. That’s why I brought him to California. So he would thrive in sunlight. If you corrupt him, you’ll wander among the galaxies for ten thousand years, I warn you. Not even Gath will consider you worthy of rebirth.”
    Craig laughed. He picked up Althea and announced he was going to give her one of his “Long Beach kisses.” Althea punched at him furiously. “I won’t accept your affection. I no longer consider you my son.”
    Craig kissed her anyway and set her down with a jolt. Frank saw he was angry. “I knew this was going to be a waste of time,” he said. He climbed back aboard Rag Time. “Let’s get on to San Diego, kid.”
    â€œFrank, I beg you. Don’t let him seduce you with this evil creature,” Althea said. “The spirit should soar without man-made wings! This will only swell men’s pride and folly.”
    Craig was in the pilot’s seat, adjusting his goggles. Frank hesitated, in torment. On one side was adventure, heroism, on the other side, the life of the spirit, the exploration of its mysteries.
    â€œLet’s go, kid,” Craig said.
    Suddenly Frank was almost as angry at his mother as Craig was. Couldn’t she see he was a man ? Craig was right. She was trying to make him a momma’s boy for the rest of his life. Women were dangerous.
    He spun the prop and leaped into the passenger seat. In a moment they were in the air, climbing to five hundred feet. Frank watched his mother dwindle to a speck in the green field where for a moment she had seemed so formidable.
    The air meet in San Diego was a big success. Craig won four thousand dollars in prizes. His bombing routine was the hit of the show. He used giant firecrackers that went off with a big bang. That night Craig urged Frank to join him and Muriel Halsey, an actress who followed him everywhere in her white Du-senberg touring car, for a night on the town. (The Baroness had returned to Vienna “ haxausted ,” according to Craig.) Muriel said she would find him a girl.
    Frank shook his head. He was feeling guilty about making his mother unhappy. She had warned him against drinking liquor. She said it was dangerous for a child of light. She also warned him against women who did not match his emanations. They could destroy his spiritual gifts.

    Craig returned to the hotel room around 1 A.M. with two Mexicans. Half asleep, Frank heard only snatches of the conversation. It had something to do with bombing and revolution and a town named Los Banyos. There was laughter, the