Nina and the Perfect Weather Machine

Once upon a time, there was a King who was never happy with the weather. When he wanted sunshine, it rained. On feast days, the wind blew, and just before the harvest, down came the hail.

“We are the unluckiest kingdom in the world,” he would say.

His daughter Nina did not know whether this was true. She was only eleven, and she had never seen another kingdom.

One day, a stranger came into the city in a cart drawn by a white horse. He wore a long coat, although the day was hot, and behind him sat something enormous, hidden beneath a cloth.

Nina saw him pass beneath the palace windows and ran down to the courtyard.

“What have you brought, sir?”

The stranger climbed down from his cart.

“Fine weather, Princess.”

Nina looked at the cloth.

“All under there?”

“As much as you need.”

When the King arrived, the stranger pulled the cloth away. Underneath stood a machine made of iron and copper, with a great wheel at its centre and four long pipes pointing towards the sky.

“What does it do?” asked the King.

“It moves the weather.”

“Even hail?”

“Even hail.”

“And where does it send it?”

The stranger pointed towards the mountains.

“Far away.”

The King thought that sounded like an excellent place.

“I’ll buy it.”

But the stranger did not move.

“There is something you must understand first.”

“You mean the price?”

“Not the price. Whatever the Machine sends away does not disappear.”

The King looked at the fields the hail had ruined.

“So long as it doesn’t fall here.”

The stranger studied him for a moment. Then he handed him the key.

The first time the King used the Machine was to save the fields from a violent storm. He turned the great wheel, one of the pipes began to hum, and the clouds slipped away over the mountains. The second time, he sent away a spell of bitter frost that threatened the orchards. The third time, he stopped a downpour that would have sent the river spilling over its banks.

The people thought the stranger had brought them the most precious gift in the world. Perhaps they were right.

Then came Nina’s birthday.

On the morning of her party, the sky was grey and a fine rain was falling over the palace garden. From her window, Nina watched the servants carrying the tables and garlands indoors.

“What a pity,” she said.

The King looked at his daughter, then at the Machine.

“Why?”

He went down to the courtyard, put the key in the lock, and turned the wheel. Soon the rain stopped, and the party was lovely.

The following week, he sent away the stifling heat so that he could go hunting. Then the Queen wanted sunshine for a walk beside the lake. The merchants asked for dry days to sell their wares in the square, and the innkeepers wanted evenings without wind so that their guests could sit outside.

Each request seemed harmless, and the Machine never said no. Little by little, the weather stopped being something that happened and became something that was decided.

“Now this is a fortunate kingdom,” said the King.

Nina agreed. She grew so accustomed to the new sky that she almost forgot the old one. If a distant rumble of thunder woke her in the night, she knew the Machine would send it far away.

Months passed, and then one morning Nina found a fish in the garden. It was small and silver, and it was struggling among the roses. She picked it up and carried it to the fountain, where it swam in a circle before vanishing beneath a leaf.

Nina looked up. The sky was clear.

The next day, she found a little wooden boat caught in the bushes. It was still wet, and someone had painted a small sun on its blue sail. She took it to her father.

“Where did it come from?”

The King examined the boat.

“Some child must have lost it.”

“In the palace garden?”

He handed it back.

“Things get lost, my dear.”

That night, Nina could not sleep. She took the little boat and went down to the courtyard, where the Machine stood motionless in the moonlight.

She walked around it. She had never looked at it so closely before. On the back, she found a small arrow etched into the copper, pointing towards the mountains. Beneath it were two words:

FAR AWAY.

She thought of the stranger. Whatever the Machine sends away does not disappear.

The next morning, she took the boat and set off without telling anyone. She crossed the fields, walked through the woods, and climbed into the mountains. On the other side, the wind nearly knocked her down. She clung to a tree and waited for the gust to pass.

Farther on, she came to a valley sheltered from the wind. The grass was yellow, the earth was cracked, and when she looked into the wells, she could see the bottom.

She walked on. Beyond the next ridge, a drop of rain struck her cheek. Nina lifted her head. Within minutes, it was raining so hard that she had to run for shelter.

That was when she saw the town.

Water poured from the roofs and rushed along the streets, reaching the doorsteps of the houses. People had laid wooden planks from one house to the next so that they would not have to wade through the water.

Nina sheltered beneath an awning. A girl about her own age was standing there, her hair wet.

Nina took out the boat she had found in the garden.

“Is this yours?”

The girl’s eyes widened.

“Where did you find it?”

“At home.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Why?”

The girl pointed to the water rushing along the street.

“I lost it here.”

Nina looked down at the little sun painted on the sail.

“How long has it been raining?”

The girl shrugged.

“A long time.”

“Does it ever stop?”

“Sometimes.”

“It hardly rains at all where I live.”

The girl looked at her.

“Where do you live?”

Nina pointed towards the mountains.

“Far away.”

For a few seconds, neither girl spoke.

Nina held out the boat. The girl took it and ran her thumb over the little painted sun.

“Thank you,” she said.

“May I borrow it?” Nina asked. “There’s someone I need to show it to.”

The girl looked at her for a moment, then handed it back.

Nina set off for home. By the time she reached the palace, it was almost dark, and soldiers and servants were searching everywhere for her. When the King saw her, he ran to her and gathered her into his arms.

“Where have you been?”

“Far away.”

She showed him the boat and told him about the rain-soaked town, the empty wells, and the fierce wind beyond the mountains.

“The Machine sends it all there.”

The King lowered his eyes.

“Did you know?”

“I knew it had to go somewhere.”

Nina stared at him.

“And you kept using it?”

“This is my kingdom.”

Just then, thunder rolled overhead. The King looked up. A storm was moving towards the palace, and he reached for the key.

“No,” said Nina.

He walked towards the Machine.

“Stand aside.”

“Where will you send the rain?”

The King said nothing.

“Where will you send it, Papa?”

“Far away.”

She held up the little boat.

“Someone lives there.”

Another clap of thunder shook the windows. Nina held out her hand.

“This time, the rain is ours.”

The King looked at the key, then at his daughter. At last, he placed it in her hand.

The rain began. Servants ran to close the windows, merchants covered their stalls, and everyone in the streets hurried to find shelter. Nina stayed in the courtyard. Within moments, she was soaked.

Lightning flashed across the sky, and she was afraid. The King came out into the rain and took her hand. They stood there together.

The Machine was not destroyed. It had saved harvests, homes, and lives. But from that day on, the King tried to think twice before turning the wheel. He did not always manage it. Kings do not become wise all at once.

A few days later, Nina crossed the mountains again to return the little boat.

Many years later, Nina became Queen.

One day, as the townspeople were preparing a celebration in the square, clouds gathered overhead.

“Your Majesty,” said an adviser, “shall I prepare the Machine?”

Nina looked at the clouds.

“No.”

“And if it rains?”

Nina smiled.

“We’ll get wet.”