Resources, maybe? Not Customer Services, that’s for sure; no one would ever set foot on a plane again. “This is nuts,” I say firmly. “Do you really think they’d launch a route without being a hundred percent certain it was safe?”
“They had to. Otherwise Qantas would have gotten there first—they’ve been working on it for far longer. The test flights ran with a fraction of the number of passengers and with no baggage. Who knows what’ll happen with a fully laden plane—”
“I’ve got to go.” I drop my half-drunk coffee into the bin, the lid crashing down as I snatch my foot off the pedal to walk away. Stupid woman—ridiculous to let her wind me up. But a curl of fear wraps itself around my heart. Two days ago, the Times took a press release on the race between Qantas and World Airlines and twisted it. HOW FAST IS TOO FAST? ran the headline, above an article that hinted at corner cutting and cost saving. I spent an hour on the phone with Dad, reassuring him that yes, it’s safe; no, they wouldn’t take risks.
“I couldn’t bear it if—”
“Dad, it’s perfectly safe. Everything’s been checked and double-checked.”
“It always is.” His tone was loaded, and I was glad he couldn’t see my face. I didn’t rise to the bait. Didn’t want to think about it.
They took forty staff members on the three trial flights last year, monitored their blood sugar, their oxygen levels, and their brain activity. The cabin pressure’s been tweaked and the noise levels reduced, and even the meals have been specially designed to combat jet lag. It’s as safe as any other flight.
“Good luck!” the woman calls after me, but I don’t look back. Luck has nothing to do with it.
But my pulse is still high when I slide into the briefing room a few minutes later. It’s packed—not just the crew but a bunch of suits I mostly don’t recognize.
“Is that Dindar?” I turn to the flight attendant next to me, whom I’ve flown with once before. I check his name badge. Erik.
“Yes, that is Dindar. He is here for the launch.”
Figures. Yusuf Dindar, the airline’s CEO, only makes an appearance on days like today, when a big launch means television cameras and kudos for the men (because they’re all men) behind World Airlines. The race for the first London to Sydney nonstop flight has been neck and neck, and behind Dindar’s self-congratulatory expression this morning is a flicker of relief that they got there first. He stands, waiting until all eyes are on him.
“Today, we make headlines!”
Everyone applauds. There are whoops from the back of the room and a flash of photography. Amid the anticipatory celebrations, I feel a chill in my bones.
Something went wrong…a problem with the plane…
I shake the woman’s words away. Applaud fiercely with the others. We’re making headlines. London to Sydney in twenty hours. Nothing will go wrong. Nothing will go wrong, I repeat, a mantra against the growing sense of doom I feel.
I know why she’s rattled me. It’s because I shouldn’t be here.
Personnel drew names for the crewing, although whether we were winning the lottery or drawing the short straw wasn’t quite clear. There was a flurry of messages on the WhatsApp group.
Anything?
Not yet.
I heard the email’s gone out.
So desperate to do it!!!
And then an image: a screenshot from Ryan’s phone. Congratulations! You have been assigned to the inaugural London–Sydney direct flight on December 17. He had captioned the picture with a crying emoji and Twenty bloody hours!
I messaged him privately. Offered to take his place. I didn’t tell him why, of course—tried not to show how much it mattered—but he still held out for a swap on Mexico City, plus a bunch of gift cards I’d gotten for my birthday. Crazy chick! he’d concluded, and I had to agree.
And now I’m here. An interloper on the most important flight in recent history.
“I’d like to introduce the pilots for this historic flight,” Dindar is saying. He waves for them to join him at the front of the room, and there’s a shuffle of feet as people move to make way. “Captain Louis Joubert and First Officer Ben Knox; Captain Mike Carrivick and First Officer Francesca Wright.”
“Carrivick?” I say to Erik as everyone claps. “He’s not on the crew sheet I’ve got.”
Erik shrugs. “Last-minute switch. I don’t know the guy.”
Dindar is still going. “There will be a number of invited guests on board.” By “invited guests” he means people who haven’t