idea.’
Chapter Three
Small, dimmed, oblong lights ran in rows along the walkways in the main cabin of the Airbus A380 super jumbo airliner, their faint illumination highlighting the slumbering passengers as they flew across European airspace towards London. The plane’s massive engines droned away in the background. Internal fixtures and fittings squeaked and rattled, responding to the repetitive rise and fall of the fuselage, held aloft by vast, swept wings that sliced through tumultuous, interconnecting weather systems.
Jessica Klein shifted in her economy class window seat, trying to regain some semblance of comfort after being awoken by a hostess wheeling a rattling trolley cart along the nearby aisle. Her eyelids rested shut, but she could feel the tension within them preventing her from drifting back to sleep. Keeping her eyes closed, she willed her mind to slow, to relax into a state of calm, while attempting to block out the noise of the aircraft and its many inhabitants. A person coughed in the seat behind her, a child cried out for its mother off to one side and the mutterings of two people a couple of rows in front was enough to make her blink and stir fully awake.
She wasn’t getting back to sleep anytime soon and now, she realised, she needed to relieve herself. Oh, how she hated flying like this, cramped and uncomfortable and hemmed in on all sides. It was a far cry from the roomy and opulent surroundings of business class, which she had grown accustomed to over the years, one of the many privileges of being amongst the BBC’s highest paid television presenters; privileges she now had to learn to live without.
James, the cameraman who had been Jessica’s constant companion since they were ejected from the United States, was no longer with her. He had taken an earlier flight destined for Birmingham, England’s second largest city, and James’ home town.
She was on her own now, returning from the ice-laden municipality of Novosibirsk, Russia’s third most populous city. Since the arrival of the asteroid AG5, the drop in temperature had hit parts of Siberia the hardest and now, even in its warmest months, temperatures of minus forty centigrade were commonplace. It had taken many trips by British embassy staff to the main terminal building in the Tolmachevo Airport, on the outskirts of the Russian city, to secure them passage back to England. The confiscation of their passports by the U.S. Customs and Border Protection officers, prior to their departure from JFK International, had caused them no end of headaches and stranded them for a month in a part of Russia that was in total disarray. Jessica had almost been glad they hadn’t been allowed out of the arrivals lounge into the city proper as law and order was at breaking point. It was all the police and local government departments could do to keep critical services operational. Poorer parts of the city had turned into complete no go areas, even for the military.
Unable to put it off any longer, Jessica stood up awkwardly. The backs of her knees rested against the seat and she had to hold the headrest with one hand to stop herself from falling back down again. The man sitting next to her was fast asleep, but he was reasonably slim, enabling her to squeeze past without disturbing him. Unfortunately the next chair was occupied by a rather large lady whose ample legs barred Jessica’s much needed escape. As she debated whether she should wake the immovable blockade a hostess, seeing her movement, came over to offer assistance. Taking the proffered hand, Jessica stretched out a leg and managed to hop out into the relative freedom of the aisle.
Sharing a quick smile with her saviour, Jessica thanked her and then walked on unsteady legs towards the rear of the plane and into a cramped toilet. Pulling the narrow door shut behind her, she engaged the small lock and then looked down at the toilet seat with trepidation. Apparently some economy class
Chapter Three
Small, dimmed, oblong lights ran in rows along the walkways in the main cabin of the Airbus A380 super jumbo airliner, their faint illumination highlighting the slumbering passengers as they flew across European airspace towards London. The plane’s massive engines droned away in the background. Internal fixtures and fittings squeaked and rattled, responding to the repetitive rise and fall of the fuselage, held aloft by vast, swept wings that sliced through tumultuous, interconnecting weather systems.
Jessica Klein shifted in her economy class window seat, trying to regain some semblance of comfort after being awoken by a hostess wheeling a rattling trolley cart along the nearby aisle. Her eyelids rested shut, but she could feel the tension within them preventing her from drifting back to sleep. Keeping her eyes closed, she willed her mind to slow, to relax into a state of calm, while attempting to block out the noise of the aircraft and its many inhabitants. A person coughed in the seat behind her, a child cried out for its mother off to one side and the mutterings of two people a couple of rows in front was enough to make her blink and stir fully awake.
She wasn’t getting back to sleep anytime soon and now, she realised, she needed to relieve herself. Oh, how she hated flying like this, cramped and uncomfortable and hemmed in on all sides. It was a far cry from the roomy and opulent surroundings of business class, which she had grown accustomed to over the years, one of the many privileges of being amongst the BBC’s highest paid television presenters; privileges she now had to learn to live without.
James, the cameraman who had been Jessica’s constant companion since they were ejected from the United States, was no longer with her. He had taken an earlier flight destined for Birmingham, England’s second largest city, and James’ home town.
She was on her own now, returning from the ice-laden municipality of Novosibirsk, Russia’s third most populous city. Since the arrival of the asteroid AG5, the drop in temperature had hit parts of Siberia the hardest and now, even in its warmest months, temperatures of minus forty centigrade were commonplace. It had taken many trips by British embassy staff to the main terminal building in the Tolmachevo Airport, on the outskirts of the Russian city, to secure them passage back to England. The confiscation of their passports by the U.S. Customs and Border Protection officers, prior to their departure from JFK International, had caused them no end of headaches and stranded them for a month in a part of Russia that was in total disarray. Jessica had almost been glad they hadn’t been allowed out of the arrivals lounge into the city proper as law and order was at breaking point. It was all the police and local government departments could do to keep critical services operational. Poorer parts of the city had turned into complete no go areas, even for the military.
Unable to put it off any longer, Jessica stood up awkwardly. The backs of her knees rested against the seat and she had to hold the headrest with one hand to stop herself from falling back down again. The man sitting next to her was fast asleep, but he was reasonably slim, enabling her to squeeze past without disturbing him. Unfortunately the next chair was occupied by a rather large lady whose ample legs barred Jessica’s much needed escape. As she debated whether she should wake the immovable blockade a hostess, seeing her movement, came over to offer assistance. Taking the proffered hand, Jessica stretched out a leg and managed to hop out into the relative freedom of the aisle.
Sharing a quick smile with her saviour, Jessica thanked her and then walked on unsteady legs towards the rear of the plane and into a cramped toilet. Pulling the narrow door shut behind her, she engaged the small lock and then looked down at the toilet seat with trepidation. Apparently some economy class
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