by K. T. Hunter
"You'll notice that Mars and Earth are close together in their grooves at the moment," Nigel continued. "They are in opposition this year. That's what determined our launch window, you know. Otherwise, the trip would take much longer. You'll be able to watch them move apart over time. The Earth moves much faster than Mars, as it's closer to the Sun. The folks back home will see Mars go backwards in the sky, but that's just because Earth is passing it by."
"Do Venus and Mercury outpace us, in turn?" Gemma asked. "They are closer to the Sun than we are."
Nigel gave her an approving nod. "Good observation. Yes, indeed."
The other planets moved slowly, but they kept churning along, just the same. They rotated as they moved along in their tracks, circles within circles. She could feel the gearage below them, the sound of it just within range of her hearing, almost like a great clock ticking beneath her feet.
"Is Venus broken?" she asked. "It's moving along the track, but I don't believe it is revolving." She squinted at the sphere again, comparing its revolutions to those of the Earth's sphere. "Half a moment! It's revolving backwards, Nigel."
Caroline giggled as Nigel nodded at Gemma again. "You have keen eyes," he said. "I assure you that it is not broken. We discovered in the past year that Venus revolves in the opposite direction as Earth. We've been watching that planet rather closely. We observed several Martian cylinders heading there not long after our own Invasion. Ironic that they are the ones that improved our technology to the point where we could watch them!"
"Imagine how odd it would be," Caroline said, "with the sun rising in the West!"
Gemma frowned. She had heard of the Martian launch to Venus -- it was in the Invasion Chronicle, after all -- but something about it bothered her.
"If they flew to Venus, then why are we going to Mars?"
"The consensus is that it was just a small Invasion force," Nigel replied. "Our mission is to destroy the main nest, to prevent any more such forces from going out. The Venusians, if there are any, are on their own, unfortunately. We only have the one ship, so far. We're not even certain that Venus is inhabited beneath those roiling clouds. We know that Mars is."
"Besides," Caroline said, "it's more likely there'll be technology on Mars."
"One of the purposes of the orrery is to keep up morale," Nigel said. "It displays our current location." He pointed at the space between the globes of Earth and Mars. "It's difficult to see, but it is there."
There it was, a tiny model of a ship floating between the Earth and the Moon, suspended from a much smaller gearage system hidden in the dome above them.
"You can go in and get a closer look," Nigel said. "The globes move slowly enough that you can avoid them. Mind the gap in the track, though. Wouldn't want you falling in."
Gemma stepped beyond the rail barrier. She crossed the gleaming brass tracks of the orbit of Mars and its two circling moons and wandered between it and the Earth. The wire from which the ship was suspended was so thin it was nearly invisible. She had to stand on her toes to get a good look at it. Like the ship on her shoulder patch, the model was a tiny steamship.
Caroline laughed at her expression. "Cap'n has a sense of humour," she said. "It was his idea to use a model of the original Thunder Child. I think it's brilliant!"
"I am glad you approve, Mr. McLure," a voice called out from the door.
They all turned to see the captain standing just inside the chamber. Nigel and Caroline snapped to attention with a sharp salute. Gemma squared her shoulders and hid her hands in the folds of her skirt. The reticule hanging from her wrist bounced off her leg and reminded her of its incriminating contents. She felt a renewed sense of urgency to destroy it, but she did not feel safe exiting too quickly.
"As you were. Oh, don't mind me, Miss Llewellyn," the captain said. Moreau had planted his feet as if he were on the deck of a boat on the rolling main instead of on a ship with manufactured gravity. Perhaps he still had his sea legs.
"Pray continue your examination. I'd like to hear your observations, as a natural philosopher, of our little treasure here. What else do you notice?"
Gemma bit the inside of her lip, trying to think of something clever to say. This was all so new to her. It was time to bring her powers of observation to bear. She looked at the tiny model again and mentally traced its course.
"The ship is not aimed at Mars, Captain. It is heading for empty space."
"Ah, perhaps I can clear that mystery up for you, my lady. We cannot drive straight there, as if we were in a motor car. We are riding the currents and the winds on the sea of space, except now it is gravity and orbits with which we must contend. We are not so much driving there as sailing there, jumping from orbit to orbit rather than following a road. Like a whaler chasing its prey, we are aiming for a moving target. We're used to destinations standing still when we are on Earth. But we are not on Earth any more. We have to change our frame of reference when we think about movement out here in the wilds of space."
"I agree," Nigel said. "We are aiming for where it will be when we are in the vicinity, rather than where it is now. As you can see here, everything in the universe is always in motion."
Moreau picked up the thread again. "We're plodding along now at a paltry kilometre per second, so we'll reach the orbit of the moon on the fourth day of our journey. We won't actually pass by the moon, though, as it is waning crescent now. It will be new moon by then, and on the other side of the planet from us. We will simply cross the line of its orbit. A good milestone, nonetheless, as we will accelerate from there. Just giving the engines a good shakedown. Then we'll speed up until Braking Day and take our time decelerating to our destination. Mr. Davies, have you shown Miss Llewellyn the other feature of the orrery yet? May I?"
The captain sauntered over to a large switch on the wall just inside the chamber door. As he flipped it down, the chamber went dark, except for the sun in the middle. It painted the room in a soft warm twilight. The others moved past the railing and stood with her. The tallest figure stopped beside her and pointed to the ceiling.
"Look up," he said gently.
She gasped. In a day so full of wonders, it was difficult to imagine one more. Above the spheres that marched so serenely around the tracks of brass was a series of glowing stars. The North Star shone brightly above them. She didn't know the names of the other stars, but she did recognize the constellations they formed. The Zodiac glittered in a great circle across the ceiling. Next to Taurus the Bull was Orion, the Hunter himself. Gemma stared at it, the distinctive pattern holding his ground in front of the Bull.
"Luminescent paint," Moreau continued, keeping his voice low, as if he were whispering in a library. He pointed to a crimson star in Orion. "Betelgeuse is even the correct shade of red."
He wasn't standing as close to Gemma as he had during the Flare Drill, but he was close enough to make her uncomfortable. The two Booleans stood just beyond him. Even in the darkness, she could feel that Caroline's eyes were full of her own close-up view of the captain. The young lady hadn't made a peep since Moreau had entered the room.
The rendering of Orion reminded her of Brightman's message, and she wondered if this tableau, as beautiful as it was, concealed any of the secrets that she was to uncover. At the moment, she could not see how. If she did have free access to this room, though, then she would have plenty of time to search.
The four of them stood in silence, with only the grinding of the gears below them to break the stillness. She turned slowly, looking at each of the constellations in turn, trying to ignore the cloud of Men-T-Fresh Tonic that enveloped the man beside her.
She stepped away from the group, making a great show of studying Virgo. For now, it was better to maintain her distance, even if that did have the effect of attracting him even more, as it did some men. She stopped beside Caroline.
"It feels like night is all around us," Gemma whispered to Caroline.
"Oh, it just seems that way, Miss Llewellyn," she replied. S
he was still whispering, but Gemma noticed the subtle slip back into formality. "But if you think about it, it's always daytime, too."
"All the universe is in motion, all the time," Moreau said.
His sudden interjection into their private conversation made Gemma narrow her eyes in annoyance, even though she knew her expression could not be seen in the darkness. She could hear Caroline fidgeting next to her as the captain continued to speak.
"Over the course of a day on Earth, it feels like we are sitting still and the sun is moving, but really it is the planet's rotation that creates night and day. Now that you are out in space, Miss Llewellyn, you will have to think differently about the world. You are out in the great blue yonder, where the sun never sets."
He paused. There was hopefulness in his words, some expectation in them that begged for some poetic reply from her. Gemma maintained her steely silence.
"Well." Moreau broke the silence with a single clap of his hands. "I must be on my way. I thought I would check in on my way back to the bridge. I need to join the next watch since it's our first day out. If you'll pardon me, Miss Llewellyn. Mr. Davies, Mr. McLure, carry on!"
The two Booleans saluted him in the shadows. When he left, Caroline silently walked to the door and turned the lights back on. She slipped out the door without another word, leaving Gemma and Nigel blinking at each other in the harsh light.
Gemma raised her eyebrows and looked at him, but he did not seem as surprised as she was.
"Interesting," he observed.
Gemma answered him with an expectant look.
Nigel took a deep breath before he responded to her unspoken question. "You're new to the ship, so you may not have noticed. The orrery is nowhere near the shortest path from the bridge to the parlour."
"Oh," Gemma replied softly.
"I'd like to show you something else, if you have the time," he said. When she nodded, he said, "Please, follow me."
He dimmed the lights again and led her to one of the smaller bubbles off the main chamber. He pulled a lever. The wall rolled back the same way the wall at the station had, revealing the deep black of space beyond. The stars twinkled in the far distance, much farther and colder than the ones on the ceiling. It gave her the feeling that she could just step through the window and dive into the night.
"I thought I would show you the real thing," Nigel said softly. He stared out at the darkness with a far-away look behind his spectacles. "I think of my wife every time I come here. She would love this view. She loves the stars so. Last year, the plan was for her to come with us as part of Frau Knopf's staff. But then we found out she was with child. I told her perhaps next time a ship launches, but not for War--"
"But if we were not going to War, Nigel," Gemma pointed out, "we might not be going at all. Bureaucracies love to waste money internally, but they require extraordinary circumstances and rewards to explore. They don't just toddle off to see something just because it's there. Even the original explorers searched for gold for their kings and souls for their pope. Surely you've seen this in your time in the TIA."
"I believe you are correct. If we find resources on Mars, the Railroad Barons will find a way to bring them home." He lowered his voice to a whisper and glanced towards the still-open door. "I also wanted to make a private request of you, outside of Caroline's hearing."
"Oh?"
Was she wrong about Nigel's being a gentleman? She tensed, waiting for what would come next. She was used to times like these, but she did not enjoy them.
"You probably are aware that Caroline is very fond of you. She has not had many friends of the female persuasion. We met in a factory. Do you remember me telling you about the Jacquard looms?"
Gemma nodded, and he continued. "She was so bright and clever. I couldn't bear her being stuck on the floor with the other factory girls. It was so dirty and dangerous! But the owners were not part of our new Enlightened Age. They only wanted boys for apprentices for loom card coding." He rested his hand on the window for a moment and went on. "So I turned her into a boy. On the outside, at least. I cut her hair one night to look like mine and gave her my other set of trousers. She was young enough to still resemble a boy then, if you take my meaning."
Gemma nodded. She, too, had looked rather boyish before she had blossomed.
"They didn't care that one orphan girl had run away, only to be replaced by a very capable boy. So we trained together. I taught her how to walk and talk like a boy. It helped her survive long enough that by the time it was obvious she was something else, it did not matter. She was brilliant at coding the machines. When the TIA started recruiting Booleans for the Admiralty Computing Service, they were so hungry for code that they didn't care. One of our instructors insisted she was Lady Lovelace reborn! All the same, I had to discourage other cadets from harassing her too much. But I think the costs of her boyish mannerisms are going to outweigh the benefits, should we make it back home. She's like a sister to me, Gemma. I'd like to see her happy, with a family of her own, someday." He gazed out the window again. "My wife has tried to teach her some etiquette. They are thick as thieves when we're all home. But it's going to be a while before they see each other again." He smiled at Gemma. "What I'm trying to say is this: I hope you return her fondness. She needs a lady friend while she is out here in space. I think she's a bit intimidated by Frau Knopf, and Knopf's assistants are shy of her. Would you do me a great favour and teach her -- teach her to be ladylike? She may still need to be tomboyish around the crew, but with some practice, perhaps she can be a proper lady when she gets back home?"
Ah, so he was still a gentleman. Gemma was secretly relieved at that. It was a simple enough request, and it might keep her occupied, should Pugh allow her any downtime. At the thought of the scientist, she had an idea.
"I would be happy to help in any way I can," she replied. "I do have some questions of my own, if you can answer them."
"Yes?"
"Is there some sort of relationship between the captain and Dr. Pugh? They seem so much alike that I thought they might be related."
Nigel smiled at the query. "I will admit to a certain grouchy affection between them, but as for the rest, I couldn't say. Mr. Humboldt is the true expert on ship's scuttlebutt. I'm sure he will gladly regale you with what he knows. But it will be up to you to decide if he's telling the truth, or spinning a yarn to impress an attractive young lady. I will say, though, that your thought has occurred to more than one person."
Gemma returned his smile. He seemed a worthy ally, after all. His concern for his fellow Boolean spoke well of him. Gemma wondered if he was aware of Caroline's other problem.
Gemma knew a "crush" when she saw one, but usually it was the other way round -- usually it was the man who was smitten with her. Caroline was going the right way for a broken heart with her admiration of Moreau. Even if he were attracted to the yeoman -- and Gemma was of the opinion that he preferred a different type of girl -- there were kilometres of fraternization rules between them.
The TIA could take a page or two from Brightman's handbook. She had told her Girls to expect such things to happen from time to time. She had given them the signs to watch for and the means to expunge any such sentiments from themselves before they got out of hand. They did not serve her benefactress and thus had no useful purpose. Gemma found it silly -- and rather unfair -- for the TIA to make such grand rules without teaching the skills needed to avoid breaking them. She would give her new asset a few pointers if she could do so without risking Discovery. As it was, she would need to be prepared for much weeping and gnashing of teeth from the poor girl in the near future. It was unfortunate that Gemma had left most of her handkerchiefs behind. She was going to need them before they returned.
If they returned. Gemma shrugged off the thought. Even if the worst happened, at least it was all for Mrs. Brightman's sake. She knew she could never repay her saviour for rescuing her from a fate of cropped hair and trousers.
"Thank you," Nigel sai
d. He closed the window shield and wiped his hands on his dungarees. "I am relieved that she will have a friend. If you'll excuse me, Gemma, I need to change and check in with the Booleans on the second dog watch. It's only a two-hour watch, but I'd like to make sure things are going smoothly, it being our first day. Have a pleasant evening, Miss. Oh, and please feel free to join us for breakfast again, if you like."
He slipped out of the room, leaving Gemma alone with the churning orrery. So many things were turning here, more than just the little planets. They kept gliding along, little by little, never stopping, and it made her a little dizzy.
She distracted herself with the glowing splotches of light on the ceiling. She studied the figure of Orion, wondering if it contained what Mrs. Brightman wanted. The weight of the reticule on her wrist brought her mind back to her next task. Soon after, she left the room, off in search of hungry goats, leaving the miniature solar system revolving in the darkness beneath the Hunter in the sky.
~~~~
Christophe
After seeing the glowing orb of the orrery, Christophe missed the sun on his face even more. He kept waiting for the sea breeze that never came. The air circulating past his command chair stirred his hair a bit, but it was not the same. He unfolded his tall frame from the chair and braced his legs as he stood at the edge of the bridge, anticipating the rolling of nonexistent waves. The Atlantic currents ran in his blood. The Pacific salt was ground into his soul. He belonged on the prow of his boat, bare toes clinging to the figurehead, with the freedom of the unbounded sea.
He kept himself sane by reminding himself that he was protecting those turquoise waters. He tried to convince himself that now he had the freedom of the unbounded skies, but that freedom did not feel real. On the Kiwi Clipper, he had been the undisputed master of his world. There were always opportunities for adventure at the next port, for meeting other ships at sea, for imagining what was just over the horizon. Now he was chained by regulations, so many that he thought his head would burst. Out here, there was no horizon. Now there were no ports save one, and there was nothing but Death awaiting him there. His hope -- a slim hope -- was that it was the death of the Enemy and not his crew.
