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eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: The thrill of mountain climbing, sky diving, and parasailing are nothing in comparison to the rush you get when you use all three techniques to ascend to the top of a hurricane. The only problem is surviving long enough to talk about it.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Analog, 1994
Fictionwise Release Date: September 2002

25 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [147 KB], eReader (PDB) [55 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [44 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [39 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [83 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [110 KB], hiebook (KML) [116 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [74 KB], iSilo (PDB) [37 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [46 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [73 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [62 KB]
Words: 14198
Reading time: 40-56 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

The late September weather was crisp and clear outside my downtown office as a flurry of homeward bound office workers scurried for the Metro across Connecticut Avenue, eight floors below. Off in the distance I could hear the ever-present whine of sirens, normal background noise in Washington, just as the cloud specked sky above was a seldom noticed constant in this city where the focus usually was on more mundane and immediate things.

The telephone rang just as I was pulling the file on the Severance drums and fries matter out of the cabinet. "Janice has turned north," Jerry Nord's voice on the other end said abruptly. "She'll hit the gulf stream sometime in the next twenty four hours."

"What's her status?" I asked, my heart starting to accelerate from the rush of adrenalin as the impact of his words hit me. "Has she been upgraded from a tropical depression again?" The three previous candidates had proven less to our liking, one turning toward the Georgia coast, the second dropping back to a tropical storm just as we were ready to launch, and the third swinging over Florida, with much attendant destruction. I wanted to be sure that this one wasn't going to be a waste of time and effort as well. Janice had already changed status once as she shifted north.

"Better," Jerry fired back. "Her surface winds are over thirty-three meters per second; she's a bona fide Hurricane and still growing, he paused and then Mariah's voice came on the line in a rush; "Why are you wasting time talking on the phone?" she shouted. "Get your ass out of that chair and get down here right away. We don't have a lot of time to get the boat into position!"

"On my way," I replied eagerly to both of them. As soon as the line went dead I told my administrative assistant to rearrange my schedule for the next week and get me a seat on the next plane to Charleston. Then I told Tonya to inform Severance that we'd deal with her demon when I got back, and quickly shoved her papers back into their folder.

That done I hit the autodial for my apartment and counted the rings; four and it would roll over to the answering machine, meaning that Billie was out. Just as my hackneyed message was about to start she picked up the phone. "Janice is the big one again," I said before she had a chance to say anything other than "Hello" in that little girl voice of hers. "Throw some of my clothes in my travel bag and put my bathroom stuff in my dopp kit for me. I'll be by in half an hour to pick it up on my way to the airport." I slammed the phone down, grabbed my coat, and headed for the elevator before I remembered that I didn't add the obligatory "Love ya," before hanging up

"Billie," I yelled as I unlocked the doors to the apartment when I got home. I was hoping to give her a quick hug and kiss for luck before I left, but there was no answer. I found my bag sitting in the hall with a note pinned on the top. I shoved the note into my pocket, grabbed the bag, and rushed out the door, hoping that my garlicky, swarthy cabbie had understood enough English to grasp my promise of a generous tip if he waited.

I remembered the note as the cab jostled with the other cars to ease into the flow of evening traffic across the Fourteenth street bridge toward National airport and fished it out of my pocket. "I can't believe that you are doing something so idiotic and stupid," the note began lovingly in her elegant handwriting. "Despite everything that I say you still seem determined to kill yourself in some spectacular manner. You've got to be insane to try a stunt like this and I don't want to live with someone who has a death wish. I will be gone when, and if, you return. Don't bother to call."

A cold knot formed in my stomach. Where would I be without Billie? Should I turn back and try to stop her? Or was this just another of her dramatic ploys to get me to do what she wanted? I leaned forward to tell the driver to turn around when I caught the tail end of the weather forecast from his radio; "...could prove to be the storm of the century," the announcer said. I settled back in my seat, shoving the note into my side pocket: Providence had intervened, reminding me of Janice's siren cry. The weather report was her way of beckoning me, I was sure. Maybe I could still make up to Billie when I got back, but my Janice was an ephemeral mistress, never to be courted again once she had passed my way. She would give me no second chance.

The flight to Charleston was uneventful. I drank two cans of apple juice and didn't eat the peanuts they offered since I was still on the low residue diet Jerry and Mariah had recommended we follow at the beginning of hurricane season. The 767 had a few moments of rocking turbulence over Charlotte as the plane encountered the bumpy air on the leading edge of Janice's distant center. "I am coming. I am near," her nudges seemed to say to me. Almost three years of preparation for this day lay behind me, three years of trying to plan every aspect of our conquest of the biggest storm of all--a full fledged south Atlantic hurricane!