She grimaced, but said nothing, instead nudging past him to unlock the door. Her key was not the usual shape, but something circular instead. Perhaps he would ask her about this later. For now, he decided not to seem as though he were looking for a way to break into her cabin.
After she opened the door and admitted him, she didn’t close it as he assumed she would. “Should we shut the door?” he asked.
Rachel shot him a deathly look. “My first mate will be joining us shortly. Don’t assume there’s any duality in this meeting.”
Silas dropped the wrapped book with a thud on her desk, his patience wearing thin. “Don’t be daft. You were quite clear in our last conversation on exactly how you felt about my presence, despite the fact that this was quite the contrary a few nights ago. I would at least hope you could be civil, as opposed to barely tolerable to be around. Honestly, is my company so dreadful that you cannot greet me with any more pleasant a look than you would a meal that made you ill the night before?”
Rachel’s mouth dropped open and her face flushed. He wondered if she’d ever been so blatantly accused of being rude and generally unpleasant.
She snapped her jaw shut and straightened in her chair. “I didn’t mean to come across so hostile, Mr. Jensen. My intentions are to keep up appearances with my crew. Above all, I won’t allow them to look at me in any way other than as their commander. Your presence here disturbs the atmosphere I’ve worked hard to create.”
“I’m not the one that disturbs your carefully crafted environment. While I may not be innocent, it’s your actions that caused these difficulties for yourself.”
Iris entered, shutting the door loudly behind her. “Just so you’re aware, whatever the crew suspected before has been fully confirmed by your argument. Captain, you should really close your door if you’re going to discuss private matters.” Silas was on the verge of laughter, but a venomous look from Rachel squelched the feeling. “Did you bring the book?” Iris asked.
“I did.” He motioned to the bundle on the desk.
Iris unfolded the jacket wrap. Rachel sucked in an audible breath when the symbol on the cover was revealed. No one said anything. No one moved. None of them so much as blinked for several moments. At last, Iris reached out and opened the volume to a page near the end. They watched her do this, then stared down at the page to view the contents. There was the ring, sketched out in perfect, if not faded, detail.
With a sigh, Rachel removed the chain from around her neck and set it on the desk. Silas stared at the ruby-encrusted circlet and reached out a tentative hand, but halted. He threw a glance to Rachel, silently asking her approval. Her shoulders relaxed a bit as she nodded.
What struck him most about the object was not its weight, or its fine craftsmanship. He nearly dropped it when he first picked it up, so great was the power contained within it. He marveled at it, wide-eyed. Its element was completely new to him. It was not earth, air, water, fire, wood, or metal, but something altogether different. Yet, elemental it was. A different, new element, but there was no denying it. Silas examined it from every angle, holding it up to the window to see how the jewels reflected the light, searching for hidden inscriptions. The last thing he tried was slipping it over his index finger.
The power surged through him and his entire body tensed convulsively. The various devices in the room began to spin, hum, click, and whir as they came to life. The women looked around in a mix of shock and fear. As quickly as he could, Silas gritted his teeth against the electrical pulses passing through his body and pushed the ring off of his finger, sending it clattering to the floor, spinning on its side. Silas panted from the effort it took to remove it.
“What…” He gasped for air. “What… is that thing?”
Iris bent and retrieved the ring at her feet. “I’ve only a guess.” She placed it back on the desk and took a seat. “I would say it has the power to control things with moving parts. Machines. Apparently, even simple ones.” As she said this, she picked up the sextant that had, only moments ago, been rigorously clicking through the various filters, lenses and mirrors.
“That would explain why I couldn’t determine which element it conducted,” Silas said as wiped his face with a handkerchief. “While not completely unheard of, I didn’t think such an object existed.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes at the ring. “It’s fairly obvious what the Brotherhood wants it for, then. The question is what sort of machine do they have a mind to control?”
There was silence as the three of them considered the implications.
“Have you somewhere safe to store this? No offense meant, but I don’t think you should be wearing it so close to your person. I can tell you firsthand that it’s highly uncomfortable and ill advised.” Silas pointed at the ring.
She nodded. “I do, and it’s unlikely that anyone would even know where to look, let alone how to get at the thing.”
Silas tapped a finger on his chin, considering. “Perhaps…” He trailed off, and then decided. “Would you consider taking charge of this book as well? It isn’t that your crew is suspect, I’m simply not comfortable with leaving it unattended in my cabin every day.”
“You would trust me with this?” She raised an eyebrow and gave him a coy smile.
He didn’t return the look, instead nodding seriously. “I believe it isn’t outside of your interest to keep it as secure as your item.”
Iris’s face betrayed nothing as Rachel addressed her. “Iris…”
The first mate jumped at the sound of her name. “Yes, Captain?”
Rachel paused, giving her a suspicious look. “I think it’s time to bring in Monsieur DuSalle, yes?”
“Of course.” She inclined her head slightly and proceeded out of the room, taking care to close the door behind her.
The two sat in uncomfortable silence, unsure of how to proceed. Silas looked around the room and noticed a few scrolls, one of them unrolled on a drafting table to reveal schematics. His curiosity piqued, he stood and made to examine the papers. Within a few steps, he realized that they were plans for the Antigone’s Wrath, and not for something inconsequential. “Do you mind if I take a look here?” Silas called over his shoulder.
Rachel joined him. “If you must, though I’m not sure what help they’ll be. I’ve been trying to determine the best places to increase fuel efficiency. These drawings are incredibly complicated. I’m attempting to compare the different piping layouts to determine cross points, but there’s no consolidated plan of this. It’s been giving me a headache, to be sure.”
Silas’s brow wrinkled as he looked over the first scroll, then unrolled a second to compare it. One detailed the ballast tanks and related piping, the other was the current layout of the exhaust output. They were so much more complicated than they needed to be, with unnecessary symbols and half-erased lines where obsolete conduits had been taken out. “No, this won’t do at all…” he muttered as he flipped to another scroll in much the same condition. “This is total chaos.”
She crossed her arms and smirked. “I won’t argue with that. However, there’s naught I can do for it at the moment. I’ve no experience in creating schematics and neither does any of my crew. I had hoped to find someone at a later date that might be able to assist me with that project, but it seems it will have to wait indefinitely, as our current situation doesn’t lend itself well to dry docking the ship for such a task.”
Silas chuckled. “My dear Captain, I dare say you’re appealing to my kinder nature in an attempt to not have to ask me for something.”
“You’ve caught me in the trick, Mr. Jensen.” Rachel said, finally smiling a little. “So what say you then? Can you do anything with this mess?”
He looked down at the various scrolls again. “I think I might be able to sort you out, but it will take some time. I’ll have to compare these charts with the actual thing to check for accuracy, you see. It might require Eddie’s smaller frame to crawl about in the duct work as well, though I doub
t Ms. Singh or Monsieur DuSalle would object much to that. I know he can be a handful.”
“Is there anything else you’ll need for this task?”
Silas considered for a moment, making a mental list in his head. “Yes. Have you a scrap of parchment and a pen I might use?”
Rachel went back to the desk to retrieve the items and placed them on top.
“Excellent,” Silas said and wrote out a list of materials he would need to create the schematics.
As he finished compiling the list, a knock sounded at the door and Iris returned with Danton. The master-at-arms’s gaze locked on to the cover of the book, and anger flashed in his eyes. He stormed into the room, barely giving Iris the chance to shut the door before he demanded, “What’s going on here? What is this thing? Is it his? Shall I—”
“Monsieur DuSalle you will silence yourself immediately!” Rachel pounded a fist on the desktop, causing all the items to quiver in response. “Before you jump to any conclusions, I suggest you sit down and keep your mouth shut. There is much you don’t know, but if you cannot be quiet, we cannot cure your ignorance.”
Again, Silas was surprised by her shift in demeanor. The woman could go from manipulative and unassuming to demanding and authoritative with the flip of a switch.
Danton lowered himself into the seat next to Silas, scowling at him fiercely. Silas smiled weakly, but the Frenchman didn’t waver.
“Before you say another word, Danton,” Rachel warned. “You should know that I became aware of this situation last night when Iris brought the matter to my attention. We discussed it then, and I decided I would speak to Mr. Jensen before we brought it to you. I’ll start by telling you that Mr. Jensen is not a member of the Brotherhood and has no intention of becoming such. He works on commission constructing various devices, as he told you, and the organization in question would like him to build something for them. He does not do this by choice. It took much trust in us, as well as courage, to show us this book. As an added show of faith, he has entrusted me to keep it safe until we reach our destination.”
“And you believe all this?” Danton snapped.
At his tone, her eyes flashed. “Do you think me a fool? Have you so little faith in my abilities as your captain that you would question my judgment?”
“Non, Capitaine, it is just that—“
Her look stopped him cold. “I don’t think for one minute that this man has told me anything but the truth. Unless you’ve hard evidence that he is Brotherhood and has mislead both Iris and myself, you will remain silent and listen to the rest of what we have discovered. And if you so much as breathe too heavily in his direction, I will shoot you myself. Is that clear?”
Danton looked horrified. Rachel wasn’t making idle threats.
Silas was confused. For Rachel to be so defensive of him was bizarre. Most of the time she seemed to want to toss him over the side herself, yet here she was, threatening the life of her master-at-arms if he even appeared menacing. There was something else going on he was not aware of, and Silas suspected it had much to do with the Brotherhood. He doubted he would be privy to the story, however.
Opting for a change of subject to break the tension, Silas picked up where she left off to fill Danton in on the rest of the details. “The book I was given contains a drawing of an object that Captain Sterling has in her possession. I took notice of it during your sparring match last evening. As I have no idea of its role, as the text is in some sort of ancient dialect, I thought to approach someone that might know. As yourself and the captain have demonstrated little but hostility towards me since I’ve been aboard, I broached the subject with Ms. Singh. After a great deal of consideration, I took her in confidence and showed her the book before you now.”
“Between the three of us, we’ve been able to determine that the captain’s ring has been endowed with very exceptional and rare properties, in that it has the power to control machinery. We witnessed a very unique demonstration, but I don’t think Mr. Jensen wishes to repeat the performance.” Iris concluded the synopsis.
“An understatement, that.” Silas sat back in his chair, a vexed look on his face. “That is a power I do not care to ever again experience firsthand.”
Rachel crossed her arms and leaned forward on her desk. “That is where we stand as of this moment. I’ll be holding both of these items in my personal safe for security. I don’t wish to think ill of my crew, but I wouldn’t want a pair of eyes that was not meant for it to see so much as the cover of this book. We all know how dangerous this symbol can be.” She tapped her finger just above the heart and lightning bolt. “Best if it stay out of sight until needed, I think.”
“Agreed,” said Danton, almost returning to his normal casual tone.
“On an unrelated note…” She sat back again and smiled. “Mr. Jensen has agreed to redraw the ship schematics. This will be quite beneficial to me in the future, when I update equipment and such, so I expect that if he requires any assistance with this project, you will spare him the time he needs. He may require an escort into certain areas, so other crewmen should be made aware of his possible presence. We wouldn’t want our passengers to roast in the exhaust ventilation. I can imagine such a smell would be terribly unpleasant for any aboard.”
Silas saw Iris shiver ever so slightly.
“This may give you both some reprieve from your duties regarding young Eddie as well, as Mr. Jensen will require his help at certain stages.”
This small bit of good news was enough to make both the first mate and master-at-arms smile, at which Silas chuckled silently. The boy was quite the challenge.
Chapter Thirteen
The Retreat
Eddie was disappointed he wouldn’t be spending as much time learning from the first mate as originally anticipated, but, when Silas told him about their assignment, he cheered up immediately. The boy was thrilled at the prospect of climbing through vents and ducts and learning every last inch of the ship. If Silas wasn’t careful, he was going to lose his apprentice to a life on the high seas.
Silas spent the remainder of the morning scouring the ship for the different things he would need to complete the mapping of the interior. It took hours of searching room after room to track down enough large-sized parchment. He decided to break for lunch before tackling the problem of different colored inks. By his rationale, he would need at least four colors if he wanted to do the job properly.
Lunch was an odd affair full of the shuffling around of large scrolls with one hand, and taking occasional bites of sandwich with the other. Silas was sure he was getting all sorts of odd looks as he tried to keep crumbs and bits of sliced meat off of the plans, but he didn’t much care. He was far too engrossed in the technical wizardry that was the Antigone’s Wrath. The design of her sea-to-air transition was truly marvelous. He thought he was very good at what he did, but the mastery that showed in the steel-filament sails and heated-gas pipe construction was astonishing. He made a mental note to ask Rachel the identity of the inventor behind these marvels, and slipped back into immersion of the material before him.
After eating, it was back to looking for supplies. The remainder turned out to be an easier task than he thought it would be. On his way to a lower supply closet, a young crewman ran up to him and handed him four bottles of colored ink, saying the first mate sent him to deliver them. Silas smiled. Iris must be anxious to be rid of her duties as Eddie’s teacher. It looked as though he had nearly everything he needed now. All that was left was to collect his apprentice.
A sudden explosion rocked the ship and flung him into a bulkhead. He instinctively wrapped his arms around the ink bottles to cushion them from the blow. The crewman looked baffled and slightly afraid, and shot off down the passageway. Over the intercom, a horn sounded repeatedly as someone ordered the crew to battle stations. Clearly the blast had been some sort of attack, but from where? And from whom?
Fortunately, Silas wasn’t far from his room. Another hit nearly knocked him off
his feet, but he managed to open the door to his quarters with the ink bottles still intact. He wrapped them in his blanket as another detonation struck, and secured the bundle with the bed straps he normally used to keep himself safe at night. With his supplies protected, he rushed to the porthole. From this limited view he caught a glimpse of another ship behind them, but could tell neither the size nor type of vessel it was. He doubted there was much he could do to help, yet it seemed obligatory that he at least ask the captain.
The main deck was a hive of activity, and he pressed himself against the outer wall of the pilothouse to keep out of the way. He slid his way around the corner and up the stairs, clinging to the doorway of the control room as another blast shook the hull.
“How long until we’re in the air?” Rachel shouted over the hiss of steam and rattle of machinery. Both she and the first mate were in constant motion, adjusting valves and throwing switches.
“Firing tank number two!” Iris called over her shoulder, then rushed to another panel after hitting a launch button. “Approximately three minutes, Captain!”
There was a cry of “torpedoes incoming!” from a crewman outside.
“Deploy countermeasures!” Rachel said, and there was a grinding whoosh as Iris pulled down hard on a lever near her head. Before Silas could secure a grip on anything, the captain cranked the wheel hard to port and he fell out of the pilothouse doorway. He nearly flipped over the outer railing, but caught a handhold just in time. He would be painfully bruised later, but if the alternative was ending up overboard, he’d take the small injuries.
From this precarious vantage point, he could see their pursuers quite clearly. The ship behind them was a squat vessel that sat on the water much as a hen in her nest. How it managed to keep up was a mystery. Its shape did not lend itself to speed. The peaked roof over the brassy hull reminded him of the Chinese fishing boats he had seen in a book of Asian woodblock prints. There must be some massively powerful engines propelling it through the ocean. His mind tossed over fuel and thrust ratios until another jerk of the ship returned him to his predicament. Looking out over the water, a giant spray shot into the air as the enemy torpedoes connected with the decoys. Silas gulped and threw himself back into the pilothouse.
Master of Myth (The Antigone's Wrath Series Book 1) Page 12
