by L G Rollins
Elise kept her eyes on the ladder. Man after man quickly descended. She recognized each of them—they were her test subjects, after all—yet seeing them together, standing shoulder to shoulder made her heart pump deep in her stomach. All nerves and anxiety was right.
She dropped her voice low enough only Lord Chauncey could hear. “This was originally your idea, not mine. Are you pleased with your machinations?”
He also kept his voice low. “I couldn’t be more so.” He gave her a grin and a wink. “You know, my father always said you could tell the competence of a sea captain by how he spoke to his crew, and the respect of his crew by how clean the ship is.” His gaze wandered up and around the long, narrow space, tapping his cane gently on the floor. “I’d say Captain Hopkins’ crew holds him in the highest esteem.”
William descended down the ladder and joined them. “I guess we have only to learn of the captain’s competency then.” His words came out sharp and tight.
Oh hang it all, she was half hoping he’d bail before they set sail. Perhaps she should have sent him a forged note saying his most recently ordered hat had arrived all misshapen and the haberdasher needed to remeasure his head to make a new one. That probably would have kept him on land for long enough they could have made good their escape. Pity she hadn’t thought of that earlier.
With test subjects still descending and filling the space, William moved close until his shoulder was pressed against her. Surely there was more space below. Elise understood there to be six levels on the Gearhound; would each one be this cramped?
Elise watched her test subjects file down the ladder. Pearl was adamantly not making eye contact with anyone. Since welcoming the young girl into her home as warmly as Elise knew how—which granted was probably not overly warm, Elise was not natural hostess—Pearl had done nothing but hide away in her room and ignore all attempts at pleasant conversation. Would traveling in such tight confides make her more reticent to interact with others? Or finally prove enough to force the young girl to open up?
Beside Pearl stood Lenton, one of the thinnest men Elise had ever seen. He leaned in toward Pearl, a hand going to the small of her back as he gently encouraged her to move away from the ladder and deeper into the submarine. Surprisingly, Pearl didn’t pull away from him or appear upset at his concern.
Rowley was the last to descend. After hopping comfortably onto the ladder, he placed his hands and feet along the outer poles and slid the full length down.
“Welcome aboard the Gearhound.” His voice seemed to boom in the small space, his optimism almost tangible. Elise’s lips quirked to the side; suppose they turned down all the gas lights lining either wall, would the young man’s radiant smile shine in the darkness?
Elise was struck, suddenly and forcibly; for the next five and a half weeks there would be no sunlight. Gas lights would be all they would see by. The bronze space suddenly felt very closed in. A discomforting tingle slid down her back. Once they dove, there would be no leaving. No going out for a breath of fresh air. No turning back.
Elise shut her eyes momentarily and breathed out slowly. This was the right thing to do, for her science and for those people who were counting on her to improve their lives.
She needn’t turn mawkish over a submarine trip. How childish could she be? Elise pulled on her usual professional, unaffected expression, and approached Rowley.
“On behalf of us all, thank you, sir. We are very excited to be aboard.” Elise quickly introduced Lord Chauncey and William Cunningham as Rowley nodded an easy bow their direction. She glanced briefly over her at the others. Should she introduce the test subjects each individually? Collectively as “the test subjects”? That seemed rather cold.
What was the professional way to solve this? She had never read, neither during her University classes nor in her personal studies since, how to address such a situation as this. Was she already facing problems she was ill equipped to handle? That certainly did not bode well.
Rowley was watching her, no doubt wondering as well how she would introduce those standing in awkward silence all around them.
Elise was unsure of the proper approach, but she’d be hung if they spent five weeks tip-toeing around each other all for the lack of a proper introduction. The test subjects had not needed introductions among themselves, but the upper class could be quite adamant about the formality. Rowley and the rest of the crew, no doubt, hailed from higher situations than those she’d brought aboard. Silently, she prayed the subjects wouldn’t take umbrage. Assuming they would welcome an introduction was quite forward of her. After all, they were werewolves and had survived only by endeavoring hard to remain unnoticed and unknown.
Her first test as a competent lead scientist was upon her. No doubt, this would not be the last.
It took several minutes, but Rowley seemed to hold no apprehensions regarding meeting nearly a dozen werewolves. The test subjects remained still, but a waft of unease floated through the room. After Rowley smiled and politely bowed for each of the first few names, however, the test subjects seemed to relax. She’d chosen right. Their best chance at a comfortable venture together was to break through at least some of the prejudices on both sides.
Next, Rowley led them down another ladder to the submarine’s second level. The hallway was wider here, Elise was pleased to see, but not as wide as she expected.
“This level,” Rowley spoke in a loud enough voice for the entire group to hear. “Has the mess hall on one end and the bedchambers on the other. The captain has put me in charge of bunk assignments for this journey and I will meet with each of you to let you know where to place your things.”
Elise noticed that most of her test subjects didn’t carry much. Perhaps a small carpetbag, a worn second-hand reticule. She was glad they were going to be given respectable rooms, but knew they wouldn’t have many things to place in them.
They continued down the ladder onto the third level. The command room, Rowley called it. Instead of a hallway with rooms branching off, it was one large space with tables bolted on both sides to the walls. Simple chairs, secured to the floor, pivoted around in small circles. Large pipes jutted up from the floor; some angled into the wall and some continued through the ceiling.
Like the floors above, there was little which wasn’t bronze-colored. This was nothing like her home, or even her laboratory. Metal was everywhere. Strange rumbling sounds echoed up from the submarine’s engine, wherever that may be located. Elise clung to her confident expression, but uncertainty weighted against her chest.
The next several weeks were going to be unlike any she’d ever experienced. Moreover, her test subjects would turn to her for instructions and reassurance that they were safe and all was well. Looking over the strange machines about the room, it seemed quite the tall order.
Several men and women sat in chairs or stood hunched over tables. They each were dressed in the identical uniforms: navy blue breeches, white shirtsleeves and bronze vest. Though, why on earth did they choose bronze vests? Everything in here was that softly golden hue of brown. She would never have added yet more bronze to the room by requiring the crew to wear it as well. Despite the excess of brown, the crew mulled around, intent on whatever they were about. It appeared to Elise an organized chaos.
A seaman, chortling at his comrade’s comment, caught sight of the test subjects and all laughter died off. The room fizzled into silence, gazes boring down on those Elise had brought with her.
The hair on Elise’s neck stood up and a tingling, jittery apprehension swarmed in her chest. Rowley had been welcoming, but would that be true of the other crew members? Would her test subjects be treated with the respect they deserved? She and Captain Hopkins had discussed this possible issue and he’d reassured her all would be well. Apparently, the time had come for Elise to learn if the captain knew his crew has well as he purported.
“Rowley!” Melissa darted between frozen crew members and threw her arms around the second-in-command. “Did Pap
a tell you? I’m coming, too. And, look!” With hands on hips, Melissa strutted around. “I’m wearing breeches.”
The air in the room thawed at the dramatic antics. Elise herself had to fight against a grin—Melissa truly was a dear. Several of the crew chuckled and she even caught wisps of smiles along the faces of her test subjects.
“But,” Melissa sighed dramatically. “Papa said he has to strap me into my bunk each night. It sounds terrible.”
Strap the girl into bed? Elise hadn’t deceived herself into thinking she knew Captain Hopkins well after only speaking face to face a handful of times. But, he certainly hadn’t seemed cruel. So then, what, by the gears above—
“Stop doing it brown, you imp.” Captain Hopkins climbed up through a hatch in the floor and swooped Melissa into his arms. “I already explained the straps are for your safety.” He turned to Elise, the lightness in his eyes an increasingly familiar sight. “I’ve seen far too many injuries incurred by those who were resting in their beds when the submarine took an unexpected dive.”
His voice grew as he addressed all in the room. “We are pleased to have you aboard, but I’ll not interrupt Rowley’s tour further.” He nodded politely toward the test subjects. “Please, make yourselves at home.”
The tension of before was gone. As was Melissa, who had climbed down from her father’s arms and darted down the hatch. The captain met Elise’s gaze and his lips turned up—which had the rather strange effect of making her heart rap quicker against her ribs—and then trailed after Melissa.
Elise watched him go. It was rather unfortunate he hadn’t stopped to speak with her. They had spoken or corresponded at least once a day since he agreed to take on the expedition. She found him easy to be around and respectful of her title and role in the experiment.
When was the last time anyone, man or woman, after learning she was a scientist hadn’t pushed back with questions and incorrect assumptions and unconcealed barbs? Only last week, during a casual supper with neighboring friends Elise had been cornered by a elderly gentleman who regaled her with a list of reasons women were better suited to the drawing room than the laboratory and then further regaled her with a second list of ailments he expected her to cure post-haste.
Captain Hopkins never treated her like such. His calm, comfortable manor was rather easy to get used to. And, gracious, but he did look dapper in his captain’s finery.
“On level two, just below us, is the engineering room.” Rowley picked up his explanation, his voice bringing Elise back to the present. “All the equipment down there is very sensitive. Therefore, we ask you remain on the upper three levels.” He motioned with a hand for them to ascend once again, but one of the subjects, Mr. Antsy, stepped forward.
“Where will we be held during the full moon?” His scowl cut deep lines across his face, which was it’s typical rosy hue.
Not already. Elise cringed internally, though she made sure that none of her apprehension showed in her expression; no need to concern others by appearing uncertain. She had almost excluded Antsy on this venture after experiencing his temper first hand. The man was as volatile as a corked tube atop a Bunsen burner.
Rowley smiled back; either he was genuinely unruffled by the blunt statement or an expert at hiding his discomfort. “Further down on the first level. The jail is across from the cargo hold. If you want a tour I’d be more than happy to show you in a couple days. Just now, the engineering room is packed, and Wimple doesn’t like her space being invaded during shove off.”
That seemed enough for Antsy and the others, for no one else had questions. They all climbed up one level and were soon seated in the dining room, down the hall from the bedchambers, enjoying a light luncheon.
Cook was friendly with everyone, but there was an unmistakable wariness to his words. Rowley kept up a comfortable conversation with everyone near him, but he and the captain seemed the only two not deeply bothered by her test subjects’ presence. Elise remained silent most the meal.
Would the entire trip be this way? Two distinct groups—crewmembers and test subjects—suspiciously waltzing around one another, eying the other for deceit?
When Elise had first mentioned to a couple of the test subjects a few days previous that the Gearhound would be sailing with a smaller than usual crew, they had acted ready and willing to be put to work. However, now, Elise wasn’t so sure anyone would be agreeing to such an arrangement. Several of her test subjects sat with backs hunched, as if to hide themselves from view. The couple of crewmembers who did stroll into the dinning room, avoided eye contact and hurried out again the moment their work was done.
That evening, Elise slipped into her bed, which was strapped to the wall with several thick ropes so that it hung above Pearl’s. Why did she ever listen to Lord Chauncey and this ridiculous idea? Even if all went well during the full moon, there were still so many other things that could—and at this moment looked like they certainly would—go wrong.
*****
The Gearhound stilled, and yet Elise could not sleep.
No matter which way she lay, she couldn’t get comfortable. The blanket was light, though she was not cold. How did one regulate the temperature aboard a submarine?
Perhaps Captain Hopkins would be so kind as to tell her. Though that seemed an horribly petty thing to bother a captain with.
Her pillow, too, was not to blame. Elise wasn’t entirely sure why, but lying here, inside a bronze cave, she suddenly felt uneasy and rather restless.
A soft tap, tap came from the bedchamber door. Elise slipped out of bed, the bunk below her still empty, and pulled on her lab coat.
She opened the door a crack to see William’s form blocking all light.
“Come with me,” he ordered.
His belligerence had not lightened, despite being treated with the utmost respect that day. All believed he had accompanied this venture purely to support Elise, but he wasn’t going to fool anyone if he complained the entirety of the trip. Pursing her lips against his gruff attitude, Elise followed him out and down the dimly lit hall. Three doors down, William stopped. He glanced all around, but the hallway was empty.
Reaching up, he turned down the gas burning light by his bedchamber door. The long hall was thrown into almost complete shadow, the bronze metal looking gray and lifeless. Elise pulled her lab coat snug around her shoulders.
Standing with William in the middle of a field at midnight was certainly preferable to this. Here there was no breeze, no moon, no clouds. All was dead metal. William reached into his pocket and pulled out an angular contraption.
“This is the special lock I told you of.” He opened his door and held the item beside the door. “It fits around the current latch.” With a grunt he forced the lock into the door, where it clicked softly into place. William pulled something else from his pocket. Something small and smooth and circular.
“This magnet acts as the key.” He placed the magnet to the side of the door and slid it forward.
The new latch moved with the magnet, sliding forward and out of the door. Had the door been shut, the latch would have moved into the slot open and waiting for it in the adjoining wall.
Elise watched, a mixture of amazement and hesitation swirling through her. The lock had been miraculously easy to install, and the “key” so small and easily hidden. “And there’s no other way to engage or disengage the latch?”
William shook his head. “Once the magnet moves the latch into place, it stays locked. The contraption inhibits any other picks or keys from moving the latch.”
Elise eyed the newly added lock. It didn’t stick awkwardly out of the door. If she had not known to look for it, she would never have noticed it. Then again, the hall was rather dark. After nearly a decade of rigorous researching werewolves, it was surprising much she had yet to learn. “Where did you get this?”
“From my man.” William moved the magnet toward the door’s hinges, and the latch moved back into the metal door.
He tu
rned toward Elise, his form towering over her, his dark hair hiding his expression and making him seem like no more than a shadow. A chill slipped down her spine. Did the submarine cool down at night in an attempt to mimic land life? Or perhaps the sudden cold was due simply to the darkness and William’s closeness.
He took her hand, turned it palm up, and placed the cold magnet inside. “Now, I will be safe.”
It felt heavy in her hand, not because of the weight it carried, but because of the secret the magnet represented. Elise’s stomach twisted with the reminder of what she’d agreed to do for William. Elise didn’t mind locking him in a room for his own safety, but not telling Lord Chauncey and Captain Hopkins . . . Her agreement with William was suddenly not sitting very comfortably.
William slipped into his room, leaving her in the eerie, low light. Elise moved slowly back to her own bedchamber, her footfalls silent against the metal floor. Reaching the door, Elise gave herself a hard shake.
All would be well. She’d already thought through this plan. It was solid. She was only exhausted from the day and needed sleep, she only needed to put the day behind her. Tomorrow, all would feel right again. She was determined it would.
o much for sleep. Elise turned first one way and then the other. Pearl had slipped into the room quite some time ago and was sleeping below her. Exactly how long ago Elise wasn’t sure. Apparently, she’d neglected to bring a watch. What kind of a scientist forgets to bring a watch on their big experiment? Elise wanted to kick herself.
But that wasn’t the reason she was still awake. The truth was every time she shut her eyes the darkness solidified, the walls inched inward, and she couldn’t seem to get a big enough breath.
Her eyes shot open once more. Elise reached out, the touch of the cold metal reassured her that the wall had not begun to fold in on its self.
How much water was above them now? Just before she retired, Elise had taken a quick look into the control room. She’d seen Captain Hopkins giving orders, his tone not overly strict but proving him to be every bit the powerful captain one expected to run a well kept submarine. He hadn’t seen her and he appeared quite busy so she’d let him be. At that point, the window at the front of the sub had shown her a light blue ocean, with dozens of fish darting in front of them. If the water had been that light during what must have been sunset—what she assumed was sunset, blasted left-behind watch—then they couldn’t have been very deep at all.
