“Let me take you on a tour of the city!”

That was what she (Summer) said. It was the next morning, and I had been released from the hospital. Clara seemed reluctant to let me go, but she admitted there seemed to be nothing physically wrong with me. Summer had generously paid the hospital fee which, as she had promised, was only a few dollars.

“Sounds great!” I said. “Do you have a car?”

She looked confused. “A car? What's that?”

“Um, you know… an automobile? A metal box you drive around in?”

“Do you mean a wagon? I don't have one. We'll just have to walk.”

“Oh, OK… I guess that's fine.” San Francisco was quite hilly, just like in my world, so I wasn't too thrilled about having to walk everywhere. At least the weather was nice.

“Well, there is one other option, of course. Do you want to fly? It's not free of course, but it's easier than walking, and it'll give you a nice overview of the city. Maybe that will jog your memory of how you got here.”

Now I was the one confused. “What do you mean, fly?”

She cocked her head to the side and looked at me like I was a small child. “Yes, fly. You know, in an airship? How else would we get around? I can't afford a horse.”

Now this sounded intriguing. Was she really talking about an airship, like out of a fantasy video game?

We rounded a corner and there it was! Although it wasn’t nearly as epic as the fantasy airships I’d been imagining. It looked more like an old wooden schooner, just parked there in the middle of the street. But instead of sails, it had what looked like giant trash bags sitting on top. The bags were much bigger than the ship itself, and they were twisting in the wind. There were ropes holding it tied to the ground, but it looked like it might break free at any moment.

“You two coming aboard? I'm about to leave.”

That was from a woman in an ornate black uniform, standing outside the ship. She was short, and had short black hair, and spoke in a very chipper voice. I would describe her appearance as “mousy”. With her uniform and cheery voice, she reminded me of the singing telegram girl from the movie Clue.

Summer paid a coin to the pilot. and we climbed a wooden plank to enter through a door. Inside looked like an old-fashioned street car. there were windows everywhere, and rows of seats. The pilot entered in after us.

“All aboard! Please hold on for take off!” said the pilot.

I was intrigued (not to mention a little nervous) about how this ship worked, but I followed Summer to some empty seats at the front. There were only two seats left.

“It's really crowded like this since we're going to the main dockyard during work hours.” Summer explained.

“It's fine!” I really didn't mind, since it was nowhere near as bad as a bus at rush hour back home.

I looked out the window, and saw the crew outside start to untie the lines. As they did so, as the ship started to lift off. It was a very peculiar sensation—sort of like being in an elevator, but also swaying from side to side. It wasn’t at all like an airplane, since it was moving almost straight up.

“How does this thing move?” I asked. “Does it have an engine?”

“There's a propeller in front, although you can't see it from inside. No engine though—an airbus like this just uses batteries since it doesn't need much range.”

“Wow, you have batteries?” For some reason it really surprised me that they had battery technology here.

“Oh sure, those are an old invention. Some French guy made the first battery-powered airship about twenty years ago1, and we've been using them ever since. The engines for long-distance travel are a lot more high tech.”

As soon as Summer finished her explanation, the pilot pulled a lever, and the ship started to move forward. It was odd. It wasn't like the gas-powered plane engines that I was used to. It was all electric, so there was no sound, and no warm up. it just turned on. Instant and silent, like a light switch.

With the propeller spinning, the airship gradually picked up speed. It was very gradual, not enough force to feel. But after a few minutes, the wind was rushing through my hair, and the buildings were flying by down below.

“I see…” I actually wasn't sure if I understood or not, but it seemed somewhat plausible. “Uh, one other question… how do we go down?”

The pilot must have heard us talking. She turned around and giggled. “We just jump out!”

“Wait, what?” We were already several stories high by this point, and rising higher.

“No, of course not!” She laughed harder. “Did you really think I was serious? Is this your first time in an airship? Nah, we just have to release some gas or let it cool down. Then the ship will naturally sink. ‘What goes up, comes down’ after all.”

“How fast does this thing go?” I asked the pilot.

“About 60 miles per hour. It can only fly on a charge like this for 20 minutes though. Now please don't talk to me! You're gonna distract me and make me crash and kill us all!”

“Uh, right. sorry.”

“It's OK. I've never crashed yet!”

I couldn't argue with that, so I shut up. We continued lifting up higher and higher. Looking out the window, I saw the buildings and street life give way. We still weren't nearly as high as an airplane, but it was high enough to give me a bird's eye view of the city. I could see the whole Earth spread around me, with some tall sailing ships in the bay and mountains in the distance. There were no bridges, no skyscrapers, and no freeways. Just a few other airships and seagulls rode in the air with us.

I sensed that our ascent was slowing, and asked Summer: “Is this as high as it goes?”

“Yep! An airbus like this won't go too high. The intercity airships go much higher, of course, but there's no point loading up on hydrogen when we're just going a few miles across the city.”

“Did… did you say hydrogen…?” That word made me nervous, more nervous that I already was from riding high in the sky on what was basically a wooden boat.

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“Yeah… you really never took any science classes at all, did you? Of course it's filled with hydrogen, that's the only gas light enough to rise in the air. Well, except for helium, but that's super rare, so they only have it in laboratories.”

“Doesn't it… you know… explode?” I asked..

“Well… I guess it could? But it's fine, the crew know what they're doing. Just don't smoke in here, OK?” She laughed playfully.

“Do these things ever crash?”

She turned serious. “Well yeah, sometimes. There could be a storm, or a collision with another airship, or the ropes could break, or all sorts of things. But try not to think about it… life is full of danger, you know? We just carry on.”

I took a few minutes to ponder this. What she said was shocking—I was used to life in the modern era, where there were multiple safety backups for everything. They'd never let a plane fly with these kinds of risks. But I supposed it made sense for this world. Life back in the industrial era was extremely dangerous, with people randomly dying in accidents all the time. One more source of danger like a plane crash would have been considered reasonable back then, too. So I realized that here people just took more risks than I was used to, and lived life on the edge.

“So how do we descend? I know I asked you this before, but you didn't really answer…”

“Oh, that's easy!” She smiled. “They just let out a little hydrogen. The ship will get heavier, and we'll descend. Not too fast though, it's like falling with a parachute.”

So they did have parachutes in this world, that was good to know.

“Do you keep parachutes on these?”

“Yeah, there should be one under your seat. You can jump out if there's an emergency… I've never needed it though.”

“So this is all amazing but I have to ask. Uh. Wouldn't it be easier to just use horses?”

“Horses?”

“Yeah. Why not keep this thing on the ground, hitch it to a horse, and let the horse pull it?”

“Well, horses are amazing, and I'd love to have one, of course. But they're kind of expensive, and they eat a lot, and they can't cross water, and you have to put horseshoes on them, so that would cost more.”

More than this? What was with this economy, I wondered.

“Besides…” she wrinkled her nose. “Horses… poop you know? Like, a lot. It's OK out in the country but in a city like this? If everyone had a horse it would be gross!”

“Ha, I suppose that's true. I remember reading that used to be a big problem in cities in my time. There was so much horse poop in the streets that it was hard to even get through.”

“Grooss!” she shrieked. Well, I couldn’t blame her, I thought it was gross too… “Uh, sorry about that!” I apologized. The other passengers were all staring at us.

“Is it really so… disgusting like that, in your world?”

“No, not anymore. That's just what I read about the past before I was born. Now we use machines made of metal. They have an engine inside to move around.”

“That sounds really expensive… where do you get all that metal?”

“They are a bit expensive, but it's OK. We just… mine it, you know? It's actually more expensive for me to stay a long time in a hospital than to buy a car, that's why I didn't want to go to the hospital yesterday.”

“Yes… I guess your world with so many men would have a lot of iron miners, and fewer nurses, wouldn't it…” She seemed to be struggling to imagine it.

“Tell me,” she continued, “What are relationships like? How many girlfriends did you have?”

“Me? Um… none.”

“Wait, what?” Now she seemed really shocked. “Is there something wrong with you? Some medical problem?” She paused and lowered her voice. “Or maybe you're gay? You can tell me if you are, I won't judge.”

“No, it's not like that! There's nothing wrong with me, and I'm not gay! I'm just… young, you know!? I just haven't had the chance yet.”

“Hmm, I see. So you're still a cherry boy…?”

I turned away. “I don't see how that's any of your business.” It was true of course, but I didn't want to admit it.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you! It's just, here pretty much every boy has at least one girlfriend by the time they're 18! Especially a good looking guy like you… I never thought you'd be single, let alone a virgin…” she trailed off.

“Just never met the right girl, I guess.” Or any girl that really liked me, but I didn’t feel like telling her that.

“Then… do you want to try dating me?” she asked suddenly, looking hopeful.

“… Are you serious?” My heart was beating fast. No girl had ever asked me out, especially one so cute as Summer.

“Oh, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have asked that. you're new here, and still recovering, and you're stuck here in this confined space with me right now, and I shouldn't be putting all that pressure on you. I'm sorry! Please forget I said that! Let's just be friends.” She was stammering, the words tumbling out of her mouth. It was quite cute seeing her so flustered like that, but I did feel bad for her.

“Hey, it's fine. I'm not offended or anything, just surprised. Um, let me think about it, OK?” I liked Summer a lot, but I wasn’t quite ready to jump into a relationship just yet. I’m far too mature and romantic to date someone who just found me lying unconscious in the street yesterday! Or maybe I’m just a wimp and that’s why I never had a girlfriend

“Oh sure! and um…” She stopped, leaned over to me, and whispered in my ear, “Even if you don't want to be my boyfriend, I wouldn't mind doing some naughty stuff with you like what Clara tried to do with you last night, either…”

With her whispering in my ear, and touching my am lightly, and saying those things… well, I felt part of myself “lifting off” along with the airship. But I played it cool.

“Maybe later. I still need to figure out what's going on with me and this world, first.”

She pouted, and pulled away from me. “Fine, fine. But um… keep me in mind, please!”

“I will! I definitely will! I'm just not ready to commit to a girlfriend, you know?”

“Oh, you're so sweet!” She blushed. “But if that’s your objection… you don't really have to commit, you know…? A guy like you… you can have more than one girlfriend. That's what most guys here do. I'll understand if you want to, uh… “make use” of that Clara bitch, or someone like that. I have to admit that she is… physically attractive, even if her personality is rotten.”

“Really? That sort of thing is normal here?”

“Well yeah… I mean, there's not enough men to go around. How else am I supposed to get a boyfriend if I don't share with someone else? I guess a few girls do have their own exclusive boyfriend… they’re very lucky… but most of us have to share.”

“Sharing? You mean… I could have two girlfriends?”

“Most guys have four or five, actually…”

“Wow!” Now that was interesting. I suddenly felt dizzy, my head spinning with wild harem fantasies. I had never even had one girlfriend before, and this cute girl next to me was talking about me having four or five. She seemed to pick up on my interest, and leaned closer to me again.

“I guess you didn't have that option in your world? Well, just think about it. I won’t mind if you date other girls, as long as you treat me well.”

The airbus pilot must have been listening. She looked over her shoulder at me and crowed: “That goes for me too! You can have me and her both in your bed tonight. We'd take really good care of you, I promise! You could be kissing her while I take care of you… down there…”

I blushed. I wasn't used to this sort of thing from women, at all. And it was really surprising to hear this kind of talk from such a girl I’d just met! Seeing my reaction, Summer laughed.

“Oh, excuse me! I didn't mean for things to go so far. Please ignore this shameless harlot. But think about me when you get your footing, OK?”

I would definitely be thinking about her! Embarrassed, I stared out the window, and pretended like I was too impressed with the view to continue our conversation. It was indeed an amazing view, with the entire bay visible below like a sparkly blue gemstone. But I was too distracted by what Summer and the pilot had just said to really appreciate the view.

“How do we stop?” I asked the pilot, trying to change the subject.

“Oh no!” She gave a small scream. “There's no way to stop! We're out of controooool! Everyone, brace for impact!”

For a second I panicked and grabbed the railing. Then everyone started laughing at me.

“I'll just turn off the propeller. Like… this!” she said, and pulled the lever again. The propeller stopped. “This girl is pretty thick, so it'll naturally drift to a stop. We can also reverse, if necessary, but I know just when to stop. Now we start venting gas, too.”

She pulled another level, and I heard a hissing sound from above.

“Just a tad… that should be enough.”

And as she said that, the balloon started falling. It was a slow descent, like a piece of paper falling, but we did indeed come down. I sat in an awkward silence next to Summer, not knowing what to talk about after the previous conversation. I stared out the window instead—the view of the city (mostly small buildings compared to how I remembered San Francisco) and the bay (sparkling blue, just like in my world) made for an awesome sight as it came closer and closer. Summer tried to point out a few places, but with all the excitement I couldn’t follow her explanations or retain the names.

Finally we neared the ground, in a dirt road much like the one we’d left, except that this one was close to the bay. When we were about 10 feet off the ground, the pilot pulled out a speaking tube shaped like a hollow cone. She leaned over the side and yelled: “We're now landing! Everyone on the landing area, get out the way if you don't want to get crushed!”

And with that final bit of cheekiness, my aerial tour of the city ended.