Star-shields in the sky

By Oliver Morton

Walking back to a hotel in Mountain View, California, with a Thai take-out in my hand, I saw a strange red light in the night sky. It was much too high to be a warning light on a crane or pylon, much too bright and red to be a planet, and much too still to be an aircraft heading into San Francisco airport, 40km up the peninsula, or to the much nearer runways at Moffett Field, once operated by the United States Navy, now part of NASA’s Ames Research Centre. What sort of light just sits there in the sky? By a process of elimination, a light on a tethered balloon, a genuine UFO—yes, unlikely, but still—or, perhaps, an airship. And I realised, with a shiver of delight, that it was indeed an airship, a fat cigar hanging strangely still in the sky, all but invisible save for its running lights.

Given that most airships are little more than floating billboards, the delight people like me take from the sight of them requires a little explaining. My suspicion is that it is something about the way they are both distinctly retro and abidingly science-fictional.