sink and disappeared behind the horizon, and still my eyes hadn’t closed. Mr Ambrose’s strange behaviour continued to gnaw at me. Besides, the roar of the steam engine was doing its best to keep me awake. It felt like trying to go to sleep with a raging rhinoceros next door.
In the end, help came from unexpected quarter: the sea. As time passed, its motion became more turbulent, its rush became louder, until it tuned out the drone of the steam engine. The repetitive up and down of the waves, instead of making me sick, turned out to be comforting, like the movement of the cradle, lulling a child into sleep.
Don’t worry so much about Mr Ambrose… Whatever his problem is, he’ll calm down… Everything will be all right…
With that comforting thought, I drifted off into sleep.
I awoke, startled into consciousness by the ring of a bell. A bell? But why would I hear a bell? There was no church in the vicinity, was there? No, of course there wasn’t. I was on a ship! The Urania. Did ships have bells? And when did they ring? Surely not for a wedding?
It was then that I noticed that the motion of the waves had once again changed. Before, it had been like a mother, rocking a child to sleep. Now, it rather resembled a mother bent on infanticide! Over the roar of the sea I could hear thunder rumble in the distance. And were those running feet outside my cabin? Yes, they were! And they were coming closer.
With an almighty crash, my door burst inward, slamming against the wall - and there, framed in the doorway stood Mr Rikkard Ambrose, his silhouette only visible for a moment as lightning arced across the sky. Then he disappeared into darkness, and I only heard his voice, cold and controlled:
‘Get up! A storm is coming!’
Man and Woman
For a moment, I was frozen. Which was ironic, in a way. I had always thought of Mr Ambrose as cold and immobile, but now I was the one who couldn’t move. He marched over to me and grabbed me by the arm.
‘Get up, I said, Mr Linton! Now!’
Half running, half dragged by Mr Ambrose, I stumbled out of the cabin and onto the deck. The deck? No. This didn’t look like the deck I remembered. This looked more like pandemonium. All I saw, before a wall of water hit me in the face, was a strange still life in black and white, with men, women and children arranged around the ship like living corpses, waiting to die again, their faces thrown into stark contrast by the flash of a lightning bolt.
Then, the wave was on me, and the light was gone. My lungs filled with saltwater, and I was thrown back against the outer cabin wall. Only the hand that still clasped mine held me upright. The hand of Mr Ambrose.
‘Steady. It’s all right. I’ve got you.’
Spluttering and coughing, I emptied a mouthful of saltwater onto the deck, and a goodly piece of half-digested goose liver, too. I hardly noticed the stench over the strange and unfamiliar scents wafting over the Urania. Dark scents. Cold scents. Scents of the deep sea rising.
‘Please, ladies and gentlemen! Please, there is no need for concern! Calm down, please!’ An officer was striding towards us, down from the bridge, his hands raised in an attempt to calm the frightened crowd. Even if he had ten arms, I doubt it would have worked. ‘We are doing everything we can to get the situation under control. Please, ladies and gentle-’
‘And how,’ Mr Ambrose cut him off, cold steel in his voice, ‘do you plan to get a storm under control? Are you St Peter? Can you close the sluice gates of heaven and stop lightning from striking us down?’
The officer opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His frightened eyes flickered from Mr Ambrose, to the rest of the terrified crowd gathered on the deck, to the roiling sea around us.
‘How many lifeboats are on this miserable wreck?’ Mr Ambrose’s voice was still deadly cold.
‘Please, Sir, you have to stay calm. The captain-’
‘The captain obviously isn’t worthy of scrubbing the deck of a ship, because it was he who got us into this situation in the first place. Now - how many lifeboats are on this vessel?’
The officer hung his head. ‘Not enough for everybody.’ His voice was mere whisper. It didn’t matter. Everybody heard him. And a moment later, he could have