Waterwitch

[Keeper]

The damage repair crew arrived bearing tools and timber.
They immediately waded through the ankle deep water and began shoring up the door, jamming a long length of four inch square timber between it and the opposite bulkhead.
Suddenly the witch lurched to Starboard, accompanied by a cacophony of timpani drums as the vessel struck the ocean floor.
All but Reynolds, whose balance and equilibrium were better than most, were thrown about suffering minor injuries.
There was a deep booming noise from the other side of the bulkhead followed by a popping sound.
The repair crew looked anxiously at one another, then at Gecko, who shrugged.
“Best not think about it,” he grumbled.
Suddenly a vent pipe started leaking water, then a deluge poured in from above.
Scraping, grinding noises sounded throughout the vessel as she slid along the sea bed.
Gecko screwed his face up in annoyance.
“Go inboard and get the vent Flap closed. Don’t let the water get any further along that duct,” he ordered one of the crewmen.
He grimaced as the rush of air indicated that they were losing a lot from the other side of the bulkhead.

[Keeper]

Paige entered the bridge to see only Lilly and Mr Whitby in post.
“Who’s on the sound-o-graph?” she called, holding onto the door frame as the vessel lurched again.
“No one yet!” Lilly called as she dragged herself back into her seat.
“Mr Whitby,” Paige said as the ship up righted itself. “I’ll take over there while you operate the sound-o-graph. I remember you having some experience with it.
Whitby nodded and settled into the operators chair after passing the handset to Paige.

“Now hear this,” Paige spoke into the mouthpiece as she watched Whitby settle in and fire up the odd machine. “This is Acting Captain Holt speaking.”

In numerous areas of the vessel crewmen glanced at one another in surprise. Some frowned while others shrugged. A few baulked at the idea of a female captain, while Reynolds merely grinned at Gecko, who grinned back.
“Good on her!” the first officer chuckled.

“Engine Room,” Paige called out, “give me full power on the Ether Generators and blow all tanks. We need to get top-side as quickly as possible.”

In the time it had taken to say those words the water level within the passageway adjacent to the airlock had risen several inches and was now lapping at the lower edge of the doorways at either end.
Seth Gecko waded across to the round glass viewport in the airlock door and peered in.
It was too dark within to see anything so he pressed his ear to the glass.
He could hear gurgling and sloshing from inside, perhaps were air was trapped near the deck head, or ceiling as non-sailors would call it.
Listening for a little longer he became aware of a pattern to the sound, a liquid rhythm to the gurgling noises. Too regular to be the random sloshing of water this, as he feared, was the sound made by a constant stream of air passing through the water filled compartment.
The water on this side of the airlock was now over the lip of the doorways and flooding into the boat beyond.

He grabbed the handset. “Port airlock to bridge.”
“Go ahead Mr Gecko,” Paige said.
“Captain,” Gecko said clearly so that all on board were aware that Paige had his backing. “We are losing air. Water’s filling through our ventilation system. I’ve sent someone to shut the valve but I don’t hold up much hope.”
“Understood, how long do we have?”
“Piece of string? We’re holding for a while but the more air we lose, the more water we take on and the heavier we get. We let this go on long enough and we’ll be too heavy to surface.”
Paige was silent, thinking hard.

“Mr Gecko?” Reynolds called, summoning the First Officer over.
“One moment, bridge,” Gecko said as he joined Reynolds at the forward watertight door.
He peered through the viewport into the illuminated passage beyond and saw water flowing passed the door almost waist deep.
“Shit!” Gecko cursed running back for the comm.
“Bridge!”
“Yes, Seth?”
“We’ve just discovered a bigger problem forward of our position. The compartments are flooding quickly. We’re now cut off and can’t get forward.”

Paige stared at the speaker and noticed Lilly watching her.
“Bridge, this is Engine Room. We’ve opened the generators right up but the water is tripping out circuits all over the place.”
“Understood Engine Room,” Paige said calmly as she glanced around the room, being careful to avoid looking at the dead Guthrie.
Bez was sitting to one side, slumped against the bulkhead with his head in his hands.
“Bez!” Paige beckoned. “Get me a rope from the locker down below here, quickly!”
Bez stared at her in disbelief.
“Do it!” Lilly barked, not knowing what Paige was planning.
“Stand by,” Paige spoke into the mouthpiece.
Bez returned swiftly with rope in hand and passed it to the acting captain.
“Help me tie Lilly up,” she ordered.
“What?” both Lilly and Bez said in unison.
“Sorry Lilly, but we need to make like a diving bell. They’re open at the bottom.”
Lilly frowned as she considered the words. “So I don’t fall out?” she asked and got a nod in return indicating that she understood the plan correctly.
“Neat!” Lilly quipped. “Do it.”
Paige and Bez passed the rope around Lilly several times, binding her and a harness like web to the chair.
“Kinky, captain!” Lilly laughed, the tension getting to her now. “In other circumstances?”
Paige scowled at her. “Ew, Lilly! That’s disgusting!”
Lilly laughed, a maniacal sound. “Better tell folks to hold on!” she warned.

Paige turned to the comms station.
“Engine Room, flood all portside ballast tanks, blow air in all starboard tanks.”
“You want us to let the air out of the port tanks?” the engineer asked.
“Yes.”
“We’re taking on water, that would be nuts!”
“just do it!” Paige said harshly.
“No offense little girl, but there’s no way I’m going to let you sink us.”
“Paige?” Seth cut in.
“I know what I’m doing,” Paige argued. “We need to trap the air inside, and the only way to do that is to put the hole on the bottom of the boat, like a moon pool. I want to roll the boat over.”
Gecko thought about that and laughed aloud. He was about to order the engineer to obey but the engineer’s voice crackled over the speakers.
“That’s a unique idea, ma’am. I like it! Flooding port and blowing starboard tanks.”
“Everyone hold on,” Paige called out. “Port bulkheads are about to become decks. Watch out for falling items.”
Lilly was already turning the wheel and pulling the levers that operated the hydroplanes, cork-screwing the vessel through the water as she applied more power.

The Waterwitch began to lean to port, rotating further and further over. Lilly May Buxley was still laughing like a maniac as she fought the controls to keep the boat from rolling all the way.

[Keeper]

Paige thought that to say the journey was plain sailing from then on would have been a laughable statement.
The water kept rising for some time, building up the pressure inside the sausage shaped main hull of the Waterwitch had increased enough to counter the inflow.
Many of the ship’s systems didn’t like being submerged in water, or operating a ninety degrees from the normal.
Even so, the engineers work extremely hard to keep the vessel running, and Lilly equally so, to keep the vessel rising and Whitby to keep the vessel from crashing into anything until they had made it into clear waters.

A warning crackled over the struggling intercom system when they were only one hundred feet below the surface and rising; “Prepare to return to normal attitude. Prepare the vessel for flight.”
Paige had heard the cheer echo through the vessel without the need for the comms.

[Keeper]

“After we surfaced and laboured skyward,” Paige Holt was saying as she continued to give her account of the events that had transpired aboard the Waterwitch.
She was dressed in a conservative dress, expensive, but not outlandishly so.
Standing there giving evidence to the court she looked very calm and confident, not at all flustered by the proceedings nor the prosecutor’s attempt to trip her up or pick holes in her story. Or that’s whet Reynolds thought as he studied her from the back of the courtroom.
He was keeping out of sight, partly because he didn’t want Paige to stumble, or relax her guard just because she thought he would bail her out of trouble, which of course he would.

Paige continued.
“It took us a long time to sort out our systems as the water drained out. It seemed a lot more reluctant to leave than it did to enter,” explained smiling at the judge who allowed himself a quick grin and nodded understandingly.
“After your vessel had taken flight, might I ask what happened?” aksed Mr Baxter, the defence barrister.
“The crew worked hard o get the systems on board to a condition that would allow us to return to England. Well, actually, most did. A few others including r Gecko and Lord Reynolds gathered up the dead and carried them to the forward deep hold. A few others assisted Doctor Baird with the wounded.”
“Tell the court about those that had mutinied. What befell them?”
Paige glanced towards the judge briefly before returning her gaze her barrister.
“with the exception of Wade, most of the ring-leaders had been killed during the failed attempt at mutiny. Most of the those who’d supported Wade had helped get thye Witch back in operation and those that chose so were allowed to stay on as crewmen to complete the journey without pay. Those that did not were placed in the brig to stand trial. Only two chose the latter and they were handed over to the authorities when we arrived in England.”
The barrister smiled as he leaned forward on both arms.
“Did you not consider the alternative, Miss Holt? Is it not true that some of you senior crewmembers and your own father were urging you to execute them?”
Paige nodded. “It is true, sir. But I had been appointed as acting captain and I was not prepared to have men put to the firing squad. I don’t think my authority would go that far.”
“Thank you Miss Holt,” the barrister said with a courteous nod of his bewigged head. Then turning to the judge he announced that he had no further questions.
Paige braced herself, knowing that the prosecutor would have his turn again.
“Miss Holt,” the short man said in a patronising tone. “This wondrous tale you have told us, in which all the guilty parties have either perished or fled does seem like a rather fantastic adventure. However, I am unsure as to whether I believe you.”
He fixed the young woman with a steely gaze over the top of his round spectacles and was silent.
Unused to such environments Paige looked around her, nervous for the first time as to how to respond. She had been told that she should answer all of the prosecutor’s questions, but she hadn’t heard a question in the man’s dialogue.
“Erm, that is you prerogative, sir,” Paige said cautiously.
As though she had not answered, the prosecutor continued.
“You will see my predicament, Miss Holt, may I call you Paige?” he sucked in a lung full of air, wheezing as he did.
It reminded Paige of the old kettle in the kitchen at lord Reynolds’ Knightsbridge abode.
“You may not,” Paige said in immediate response, bringing a smile to her barrister’s serious face.
“You see, Pai….” The prosecutor had begun, but his jaw snapped shut as her response sank home. He looked most put out.
“May I ask why not?” he said at it was obvious to Paige that he was not used to people telling him he could not do a thing.
“Because it would be improper of me to address you as Rupert, and therefore I will not. It would be equally improper for you to address me bin such a familiar fashion under such circumstances, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Unless,” she quickly added, “you were to be proposing. Are you proposing Mr Grindley?”
A ripple of laughter echoed through the audience and the magistrates panel.
“You think this a laughing matter, do you, Miss holt?” the prosecutor asked indignantly.
“You believe it alright to mock me and by default, this court?”
Again he fixed Paige with that icy glare of his. “Do you?” he barked.
“No,” Paige answered meekly, her eyes downcast.
“How funny do you think perjury is, Miss Paige Holt?” the prosecutor inquired, deliberately inserting her forename despite her previous objection.
Paige frowned at him. “I don’t follow your meaning, sir,” she said.
“You could be a liar, Miss Holt. It could be that you concocted this whole rather bizarre story with your in an attempt to avoid your responsibility towards your debts. After all, we aren’t just talking about a handful of shillings here, are we? You owe my clients a very considerable sum indeed. Enormous, in fact. And I wouldn’t put it past you and your crewman to have made up this whole fantastic series of events as an excuse for not paying.”
The prosecutor leaned forward, as though the extra few inches he had moved closer to Paige would be more intimidating.
“Is that true, Miss Holt?”
“No, absolutely not!”
“Is it not true that you and your penniless father are schemers and swindlers that have conned my client out of nearly two million pounds?”
“Objection, Your Honour!” the defence barrister called, gaining the attention of the judge and magistrates panel. “The debt is that of Captain Holt. Miss Holt is merely here to give her account of events and speak on behalf of her father who is still convalescing in hospital.”
The judge nodded. “I should be inclined to agree. This debt is not Miss Holt’s and she is not on trial here.”
The prosecutor raised himself up as high as he could. “Your Honour, Captain Holt is not able to attend due to his so-called injuries. His next of kin has agreed to stand in his stead and is therefore accountable for her father’s debts.”
The judge sighed. “Indeed she has, but steady as she goes there Mr Grindley. Miss Holt is here to give the account on her father’s behalf and answer what questions she may.”
Grindley gave the court a nod and smiled graciously before turning on Paige again.
“I put it to you that your father and his co-conspirators hatched a plot to subvert payment of extraordinary debts. I say that they planned an event that was made to look like a mutiny. I believe that their plan included the murder of their own crewmen.”
An audible gasp filled the room and Paige stifled a giggle as it made Grindley seem like a pantomime villain.
“Objection,” Baxter shouted.
“That is a strong allegation. Mr Grindley. I hope it is not just conjecture?”
“No indeed, Your Honour. I have here,” he waved a piece of paper at the court.
“A sworn and and signed statement from the man these people accuse of being a mutineer; Mr Nestor Wade.”

[Keeper]

Paige instinctively scowled at the proffered paper.
“In it,” Grindley continued, “he says that you and your father, both of you, had plotted this horrific illusion and when he had objected you vilified him and threw him from his job on the Waterwitch.
“That’s not true!” Paige said defensively.
“Is it not? But he has sworn the truthfulness of this document upon the bible, just as you have here today. One of you must be lying and Mr Wade is not the one trying to avoid paying millions of pounds is he?”
“But wade is an evil, sick, twisted man and a liar to boot,” Paige countered. “We have sworn statements to the events too!”
“From your crew? The people you employ? Their loyalty to you is commendable, but also easily purchased. I cannot say that one word they have written is true. I believe your witnesses are the liars, Miss Holt, are they not?”
“No!”
“Every worthless scrap of paper; a fabrication?”
“No!”
“There is not one person there,” he pointed to the stack of statements on Baxter’s bench, “that can be trusted to tell the truth, not one person who does not have a vested interest in you keeping the Waterwitch.”
“That is not true!” Paige exclaimed. “They are all true, including the one from Lord Reynolds.”
“Ah, yes, Lord Reynolds. Odd how we haven’t been able to contact him isn’t it? Probably hiding himself away in shame! Doesn’t he employ you as his housemaid?”
Paige blushed. “He did.”
“At his London Residence?”
“Yes.”
“A place where you could easily have acquired the headed paper on which you claim he wrote his statement, if indeed he did. He didn’t did he?”
“Yes!”
Reynolds, at the back of the room frowned and fidgeted but decided to hold back for a moment longer.
“No Miss Holt, he didn’t. I have had an expert look at the writing and it is not his.”
“It is! His hand was bandaged after he found that he had broken a finger during the flooding.”
“Damned convenient, I say! Your so-called star witness’ hand is injured making his handwriting unrecognisable?”
“It is his. I say!” Paige said in frustration.
“Well, maybe it is his signature. Our expert said it was very similar to the real thing. Did you write it and get him to sign it?”
“No!”
“You are undeniably a beautiful young woman, Miss holt. That is why Lord Reynolds employs you, is it not? After all, you have had no previous experience in the serving industry. Why would the son of Earl Reynolds hire you, if it were not for your beguiling looks?”
“Or perhaps that was your father’s plan all along? Ensconce you with the impressionable young peer who stood to inherit a fortune and like a succubus you were to lure him into your trap and take that fortune from him? It wouldn’t be too difficult for a confidence trickster and his daughter, would it?”
Paige didn’t get to answer.
“He has a bit of a reputation, I hear. One with the ladies? Was that indeed why he employed the beautiful and inexperienced young daughter of a merchant ship’s captain? Were you his concubine?”
Paige’s mouth once more hung open in shocked silence.
“Careful, Mr Grindley, this is a dangerous territory you are treading. Such accusations against a peer of the realm could land you in hot water,” the judge said.
“I am merely trying to establish the validity of the witness statements, your honour. Earl Reynolds’ son is without spouse and could easily fall under the beguiling sway of a manipulative young woman. He wouldn’t be the first! And from what I have heard, your honour, he is the sort!”
Paige was furious. She stared at the fat little man but then movement at the back of the room caught her eye and her face suddenly brightened, but Grindley didn’t notice her sudden change in demeanour.
“So, Miss Holt, was that about right? Did you in fact ensconce yourself with the weak willed philanderer, Reynolds, and twist him to agree to your plans?”
Paige took a deep satisfied sounding breath and let it out slowly.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself, Mr Grindley?”
Grindley scoffed. “Well, of course I would, but he is conveniently missing, just as your father is conveniently unable to attend his own trial.”
“Why Mr Grindley!” Paige said in a mocking tone that made the prosecuting barrister balk. “Of course you can ask him, he’s right behind you!”

[Keeper]

All eyes turned towards the rear of the oak panelled courtroom.
The smartly dressed, clean, tall figure of Sebastian Reynolds stood just inside the door to the courtroom, looking as though he had just entered. He held his hat and gloves in one hand and a cane in the other.
The startled court bailiff took the items from Reynolds as he thrust them towards him, then at a slow leisurely pace the Baron made his way towards the front of the room.
“If I might be permitted to address the court, Your Honour?” Reynolds asked of the judge.
“It is highly irregular, but as I am feeling a degree of morbid intrigue at your sudden appearance then I shall allow it.
Reynolds nodded congenially at the judge and turned on Grindley.
“Apologies for interrupting proceedings, but I believe you were in the midst of casting judgements upon my character, or lack thereof, Mr Grindley. In order to assuage your concerns would you care to ask me your questions?”
Grindley’s face flushed, his jaw dropping open as he gaped at Reynolds.
“Well?” Reynolds pried.
“Erm…” Grindley managed.
“Which is it man? This weak willed philanderer doesn’t have all day! What question do you wish me to answer? Shall we start with… Did Miss Holt join my employ to beguile me and dupe me into providing an alibi and to con me out of my fortune? No she did not!”
Grindley finally recovered. “How can you know that?”
“Because I offered her the job as a favour to my father with whom Captain Holt had had dealings. It was my father’s suggestion. One to which Captain Holt initially objected, but did eventually agree to.”
“But why, Reynolds, would you offer someone with no experience in the work a job at your Knightsbridge residence?”
“Am I on trial, Mr Grindley?”
“Erm…. No.”
“Then firstly, you will address me as Lord Reynolds, or Baron Roborough, whichever suits your tastes. Secondly, my reasons for employing my staff are my own and NONE OF YOUR DAMNED BUSINESS!”
Grindley made to bluster at the harsh raised words but Reynolds continued in a loud but calm voice.
“Shall we go back to the point where you initially accused Miss Holt of being a liar?
She and her father did not concoct that this story, the statements, including my own are genuine, mine written on paper which I took from my writing bureaux. My writing is different to normal as I have a broken index finger,” Reynolds held up his hand for all to see the first two fingers strapped together.
“Captain Holt is genuinely wounded, to such an extent that he will not walk again. He is lucky to be alive at all,” in a sudden flurry of movement Reynolds drew a long bladed knife from the inside of his coat.
“Lord Reynolds!” the judge exclaimed as the Baron brandished the weapon.
Reynolds stabbed the tip into the top of Grindley’s bench and the prosecutor blanched white.
“That,” Reynolds said pointing at the weapon, “is a sword bayonet. The very same twelve inch long blade that was thrust like so…”
The baron swung an imaginary rifle towards Grindley’s portly stomach.
Despite Reynolds holding nothing at all, Grindley whimpered and fell backwards into his seat.
“It passed through Holt’s abdomen and surprisingly did very little damage all things considered. However the tip managed to sever the good captain’s spine, meaning he is chair bound for the rest of his days.”
Reynolds strolled slowly around the courtroom as he continued. “The person responsible for that was the very same person that has signed you witness statement, Mr Grindley. The peper which you have so confidently flapped around like a victory flag is so worthless that I wouldn’t even use it to wipe my arse with!”
Grindley remained aghast and speechless.
“And as for my marital status and whom I may or may not be having relations with, well, if I ever hear anything that even hints at such slander coming from your mouth again, Mr Grindley, then you and I shall be falling out.” He turned suddenly and fixed Grindley with a cold stare. “Do I make myself clear?”
Grindley swallowed hard.
“Now,” Reynolds said quietly, “is there anything else you would care to accuse Miss Holt or myself of before I bring this session to a close?”
Flustered, Grindley shuffled papers around his bench as though is was some kind of mantra that could bring order back to the world.
“My Lord,” Grindley addressed the judge rather than the peer. “I think the court has heard enough, and this irregularity needs to be stopped immediately. This is, as the common phrase goes, ‘Debtors Court’. We are here to ascertain whether Miss Holt, as the proxy of Captain Lidsey Holt of the Waterwitch has reasonable grounds and reason for defaulting on their debts. They owe incredible sums of money to my client and have not paid what is owed. I think I have shown that they not only had reasonable time to pay the debt, but also conspired to avoid payment by making up this incredible, implausible and laughable tale. The law is clear, Your Honour, the debt is owed and the time has passed. I move that the Waterwitch be used as collateral to cover some of the debt and that the Holts be incarcerated in the nearest debtors prison for a time comparative to the monies still outstanding.”
“If I might be allowed to indulge the court for a little longer?” Reynolds interjected.
“NO YOU CANNOT!” Grindley almost screamed and banged his fist upon the bench before him, making the long bayonet wobble.
The judge observed Grindley through his round glasses for a moment.
“Mr. Grindley, are you operating under the assumption that this is your courtroom?”
Grindley flushed and fidgeted with his paperwork again being careful to avoid observing the long bayonet that swayed gently every time he nudged the bench. “No. Your Honour.”
“I’m glad to hear it. So if it is all well and good with you sir, I will decide who speaks and when, within these four walls.”
The judge straightened in his chair and eyed Reynolds. “And do you believe your social rank gives you authority over me or my court, Lord Reynolds?”
Reynolds gave an amused chuckle, “Of course not, Your Honour.”
“I’m glad to hear that too,” the judge leaned back in his seat and surveyed the room for a moment.
“Are you an intelligent man, Lord Reynolds?”
Reynolds shrugged. “I’m no genius, Judge Barnaby, but I’ve plenty enough to see me through.”
“That is what I assumed. So given that you are intelligent, in an earlier comment you mentioned that you would bring this session to a close, I must assume that you would not say such a thing unless you believed you knew something that would have sway in the outcome?”
Reynolds burst out laughing and clapped his hands.
“That, My Lord, is why you sit in that chair and not Mr Grindley here! Indeed I do possess something that will sway the outcome.”
Judge Barnaby nodded and waved his hand before the gathered room. “Then let us see it.”

Reynolds stepped forward. “I have here,” he declared reaching into his pocket and producing two folded pieces of paper, “two bankers draughts.”
Reynolds placed them on the bench before the judge.
“The reason, ladies and gentlemen, that I have been out of contact is down to the fact that I have been in India, liquidating a few assets.”
“I have just come from a meeting with my own solicitor where I have signed the finalised Sale and Transfer documents alongside former Captain Holt. That would be the Sale and Transfer of the vessel currently known as the Waterwitch, to me, for the sum of five million pounds.”
A unified gasp filled the courtroom and Reynolds allowed the sum to hang silently in the room for a while longer.
“The condition of the sale is that three million pounds of the money goes to paying off the debts accrued by the previous owner and the rest to Mr Lindsey Holt, a man who will no longer be capable of working and earning his own money in the manner he until recently be accustomed to.”
Reynolds turned to face Grindley. “So, Mr Grindley, all I need from you is your client’s name to be placed upon the draught and your client will have been paid in full.”
Grindley looked both astonished and crestfallen.
Judge Barnaby watched Grindley closely. The barrister was staring into the beyond as though he didn’t know what to do.
“I would suggest that you accept the offer, Mr Grindley,” the judge announced.
“But the Holts defaulted on their payments! They should be sentenced!”
“The debt has transferred to Lord Reynolds who is paying said debt in full, Mr Grindley as is the purpose of this court. I see no reason to burden our prisons with people that will have committed no crime, do you?”
Grindley’s shoulders sagged. “No, Your Honour, you are quite right, but I should have to take guidance from my client.”
“Your client wouldn’t happen to be German by any chance, would he, Mr Grindley?” Reynolds asked, already knowing the answer.
Grindley looked shocked. “How would you know that? My client has chosen to remain anonymous throughout these proceedings?”
“I’ve met your client, Mr Grindley, and you might not know it but he has another to whom he answers. Now that man, whom we shall not name here, works in the financial sector. Would you advise such a person against accepting full restitution above what he is due in favour of acquiring a badly damaged submarine? I can’t say I see him having much use for it other than selling it on for a massive loss.”
“I…” Grindley floundered and it was obvious to Reynolds that the barrister was well aware of the full situation.
Grindley sighed and filled out the name on the bond.

[Keeper]

The Ether Submersible Ship Waterwitch was sitting on the blocks in No.1 Dock, McMasters Naval Shipyard, Chatham.
Lord Sebastian Reynolds stood at the superintendent’s window overlooking the dock, silently watching the workmen below cutting away that damaged structure.
“Sit down, laddie,” an gruff voice said from behind. “If we dinnae get the changes down now, then she’ll no be ready for long while more than she need ta be.”
Reynolds smiled and returned to the large table where Sir James Alexander McMasters sat with a large sketchbook where he and Reynolds had already laid down some of the changes the peer wanted to make to the vessel.
McMasters was excited. He’d been building Ether vessels for the Royal Navy from plans that were decades old and it was nice to get his teeth into something where he could let his inventorial juices flow.
Reynolds sat down.
“Now then laddie, did I hear you right just the now? You want this old bucket to go into space?”
Reynolds grinned. “And that’s just for starters, Jim.”


THE END