Helios (Alternate Universe)
by various authors

Dutifully taking care of the countless safety checks demanding immediate attention, Ursula Davis, heart brimming with excitement innocent as a child’s found it almost impossible to believe the time was virtually upon her…Ten Years – Ten long, painful, beautiful years of determined endeavour literally against the odds Finally transforming what many dismissed as a reckless foolhardy dream into reality; realized at last.  Cradled atop a virtual time bomb, Helios stood ready to reach for the stars, writing the first tentative words of a new chapter in Humanity’s quest to journey beyond the confines of their world,  or,  more realistically , several  experimental low Earth orbits under nought but sail.

Project Helios began its life as little more than an impossible, romantic fancy fueled by an undeniable enthusiasm possessed by its creator. Newly graduated from a prominent British University having received qualifications in both the fields of Astro-physics and aeronautical engineering, a bright future awaited its latest novice. From the beginning, Ursula faced obstacle after obstacle, her dream of a “true ship of the stars” laughed off as so much folly – the product of little more than an over-active imagination combined with far more science fiction than could possibly be healthy. Nonetheless, soldier on she did, with  only a plan and the zeal to some day see it realized.

From her earliest years, Ursula harboured a keen interest in all things celestial. Many a cold night saw  the young astronomer gazing in wonder at the starry firmament above – a treasure-chest of jewels spilled across a velvety sky  brimming with possibility. Being hooked from  her childhood,  future events were all but unavoidable. Excellent  formative academic results led naturally to pursuits at a higher educational level whereby this passion could well and truly be indulged.

Time was when a career in space seemed a certainty. Unfortunately though, Ursula’s need for corrective eyewear rendered her unsuitable in NASA’sview– Unsurprisingly, she consoled herself with the fact their in-house politics and agenda would not have  produced satisfaction anyway. So it was, then, that  the scientist beavered away in her field of expertise happily though not quite contentedly for a European space association. It was therefore of little surprise when, two years after commencement with her employers, Ursula found herself literally swept off her feet by the arrival of another new face – that of Dr. Tony Davis. Much to the shock of friends and colleagues alike, at twenty-four  years of age (Tony being ten years her senior), after only courting for twelve weeks, their lives were pledged in matrimonial unity (Ursula gladly taking his name) – two hearts so alike, driven equally by a singular passionate dream joined in the striving for this quest.

Inspired by the elegant simplicity of past technologies, especially that of the power of wind and sail, Helios took flight. Carried along by her husband’s almost fanatical dedication to the cause,  she lost no ground conceptualizing, researching, developing and finally presenting the opportunity of a lifetime – the very real possibility space proper could be explored with the power of nothing more than light – Too fantastic to be real, no. From  that fabulous day in the lab, when both gazed in awe at that first  fragile prototype, the game was afoot. Receiving little more than mocking derision from US and British government bodies, this storm of a duo swept from entrepreneur to entrepreneur with their history-making vision, never too proud to beg for funds. Finally such humble cap-in-hand visits paid off with the granting of their wishes, thanks to a rather eccentric  Scotts descendant venture capitalist with more money than sense ( or so people thought; Lord Maxwell Kennedy),   uncharacteristically happy to lavish the collateral upon such insane schemes. Sharing their love of the stars, he, seeing nothing inherently wrong with forking over the dollars, agreed to fund this most outrageous of missions. You see, dear readers, others had considered the possibilities of a space-faring solar sailing ship; Ursula however, was the only one brave (or insane) enough to jump right in with the intention of Helios’s maiden voyage being manned.

Events thus followed their natural course as the years progressed. Well into its construction, Ursula,   influenced by her husband’s promptings, found herself inclined to include an expert in Sail technology as part of the team – indeed, to oversee final developments of such a crucial element of the craft.  In short order, her investigations led to a talented young woman possessing unique experience with this bygone mode of transportation. Duly impressed, it was that Ursula welcomed Clarissa Horton  to Helios’s little family three years prior to the proposed launch date. Swiftly, Clare, as she preferred to be known, became a vital spoke in a most wonderful wheel – the creation of what could only be considered a true starship. Far from being blind toward any potential good which such an illustrious partnership could add to her career and reputation, Clare saw this not merely as a golden chance to push her knowledge of sail to the very limit, but indeed, the perfect opening to present it anew to a world crying out for cleaner forms of transportation, bringing with it a new take on age-old methods.

Snapping back to reality, jolted from her reverie by one final safety check, Ursula, looking across at Clair (similarly busy attending to the solar sail’s systems) could not stifle a bitter pang of grief. Barely twelve months had elapsed since her husband, struck down by illness tearing him from the side of his wife had been laid to rest tragically before time. Stricken with grief, her singular manner of coping found all members of “Project Helios” deeply concerned for her welfare, as Ursula almost manically, stifled her bereavement through a frankly unnatural dedication to the task at hand. Nonetheless, she hung on, fighting both a deep sense of loss, not to mention the Russian Aerospace establishment (similarly hesitant as to Ursula’s suitability for space travel (and its accompanying training regime). Naturally, she won over (stubbornness combined with financial incentive enough to seal the deal) leading to this poignant moment, our two intrepid travelers on the verge of re-writing the book with regards to voyaging the stars.

Chapter 1

As Ursula ran through helios’ launch sequence, ; or the safety checks…actually, to be truthful, Clarissa (who preferred to be known by the less ostentatious appellation, Claire) didn't quite know exactly what Ursula was doing,  simply assumed craft’s  imminent launch   lay behind her  almost feverish  manipulation of it’s controls.   Lacking sufficient understanding of the procedures, Claire  returned to her attempts to forget that she was sitting on top of a giant firework, about to leave not only land, but the Earth.
  Many was the occasion on which Claire had left the land; the sod; the soil and innumerable other analogies,  one lone destination above all others in mind and heart;  the horizon - a thin line above the blue (occasionally green, sometimes grey) waters of the world.  Her life was the sea, not the land and most certainly not space. Many others in Claire's position  may well have begun earnestly  to contemplate their own sanity at this point, but she herself, although  far from calm, did not question that to agree to this venture had been the only sensible option.
  Claire was not an astronaut, nor a scientist.  Of course, she had to satisfy  any mandatory  physical and psychological prerequisites  prior to approval as a 'passenger', but her job would essentially come once they were out of the planet's atmosphere.

  Claire was, in fact, a Sailing Master.   She had  laboured with dedication to  achieve her position, but there had never been any other ambition for her.  Her father had taken her aboard a Tall Ship, once; the name of which they could not even recall, as a little girl  - the experience leaving an indelible impression.  Afterwards, she had handed over a few coins from her grubby hands to the dockside Tourist Information Centre for a book about Tall Ships,  their history and the Age of Sail. Thereafter, , few options   apart from a career aboard one of these fine replicas would do.
  Of course, she had contemplated a  modern alternative - perhaps the Navy, and while  Clarissa tentatively commenced  studies at the Dartmouth College, she had left before the more serious learning truly got underway; caring little for the computer systems, or the chain of command (although the idea of giving orders was not wholly unpleasant), neither did she show much interest in the protocols and standards expected of an officer in Her Majesty's Royal Navy; therefore  it was considered better for all concerned if employment was sought elsewhere.
  And so she had.

Remaining in Portsmouth  Claire applied for posts  aboard every replica ship which had a website devoted to it, carefully listing her experience in Historical Re-enactment societies, her degree in British Naval History; the various adventure holidays, volunteering, work experience and exchanges she had filled her life with  eventually finding herself accepted to fill a gap in the crew of TS Guinevere.  Within a year, she was one of two master's mates aboard TS Guinevere and after a further three years, she was Master of TS Merlin.
  Luckily for her, an interest in Tall Ships was complemented by a skill for the work; she could navigate, she could tell changes in the weather at sea, she knew how and when to set and furl sail; how many reefs to take in, how to rescue some stranded landsman from the rigging, and give orders to men twice her age and many times her means, who had 'paid for this goddam it' and didn't see why they should go below decks for an approaching storm.

  It was her knowledge and experience of sail-handling which had prompted Ursula to seek an interview with her, and the notion of a ship travelling through space in much the same manner as a ship  ventured through the sea appealed immediately.   The Sailing master’s expertise was wanted during a test flight to establish how to handle the sail of a solar-spacecraft.  Claire agreed readily  seeing this as too good an opportunity for a potential murgure between maritime past  and hi-tech future to be passed up. Rather than Tall Ships  viewed simply as an historical relic, the potential from such a scientific breakthrough could well open up endless opportunities for nothing short of a sail revolution.  The preservation of this piece of past suddenly became invaluable to the undiscovered future.
  In short, Claire considered her trip beyond the Earth as the greatest publicity stunt it was possible to pull off.  Of course, while the promised advertising and interest in old sailing techniques was foremost in her mind, she was also aware of the personal opportunity.

  How many people went into space?  How many people went into space as one of the innovators of what could be the travelling methods of the future?  What fool ignored the challenge, not just to preserve history, but to create it?  Who would deny themselves the chance to say "I was one of the first?"
  Of course, the sail was currently stowed away; and it didn't look much like the sails she was used to, having an appearance closer to that of an umbrella.  However, the principles of photons striking the reflective material and pushing the space-ship along was the same as the wind striking the canvas and pushing the sea-ship along.  And it had a mast.  Of course, that was actually called something along the lines of the 'Solar-sail Main Conductor Array' or other such technical nomenclature, but it was also the pole that supported the sail, which made it as close to a mast as could be done.
  The spokes to which the sail fabric itself was stretched across also had a very technical term to its credit, but did well enough as yardarms and spars to Claire.  Their capsule; 'Helios' itself, might be considered the hull.

  Claire did not have any particular animosity towards computers, and had been taught efficiently
enough how to operate and manipulate the sail once it had been unfurled (terminology that was the same in space as on water).  This flight would record every single alteration to the sail, and how it affected Helios would all be analysed to within an inch of its usefulness back at the Centre.  She would also assist with that, but nothing could give her the experience required other than her observing it for herself.  Claire supposed she would look out of the window more than she would look at the computer readings.

  She would also be the first to ever manipulate a solar-sail in actual space, and not a simulator.  Previous flights had just furled and unfurled; never 'reefed' or adjusted 'rake' or 'bent on'.  There were technical terms for all these adjustments, but she didn't know what they were (or rather, she had been told, but had since forgotten), but so far as Claire was concerned, that was what the computer was there for.   And, ironically, they were to perform a water-landing!

Chapter 3

Apart from a momentary   power fluctuation about half way through the flight, Ursula could not have been more pleased withHelios’s fantastic performance; especially the solar sail under Clarissa’s expert handling.  pleasantly surprised  by the extent to which it’s actions mirrored those of  more conventional sail technology, The little craft (guided by its intrepid crew)  fairly skimmed  above the outer limits of Earth’s atmosphere and gravity, safely in orbit driven along by nothing more than light itself.

Both women could not help but be deeply moved by the sight spread below them – Land Sea and cloud revealed in stunning beauty, the whole scene fringed with the faintest of blue borders where earth and sky met upon a gently curving horizon. How fragile and alone did their world appear when viewed against the vast blackness of the great beyond.

Satisfied    her vessel had well and truly been put through its paces,Helios was prepared for re-entry. Having appropriately readied the sail, and radioed both the ground crew and retrieval team with no response forthcoming from either, she tried again. Still no response. Both women becoming rather concerned, additional communications through personal devices and even email were sent, proving fruitless. Assuming a malfunction had occurred within  Helios transmitter,  the task of locating possible faults commenced. , surprised to find everything in perfect working order only to be confronted with a new problem –all but half an hours’ air supply remaining,  both women agreed the safest option, indeed, their only option, was to  come in to land and worry about communications after setting down – at least lack of anything to breathe would be one less  issue to deal with.

Matters quickly escalated from bad to worse when, to Ursula’s horror,  all shipboard instruments systematically  began to fail, including those responsible for deployment of   the landing parachutes. Frantically, she worked to release a majority of the solar sail’s locking clamps enabling its configuration into a crude parachute itself, being positioned  barely  moments before the entire  capsule became, for all intents and purposes dead in  space. Careering uncontrollably through the heavens, the two women hung on for grim life, bracing themselves for what could only be a sickening collision with the sea, as the rigged sail fought vainly to brake their descent. If the situation were not critical enough one of the most violent thunderstorms either spacefairer had witnessed in years  seemed to have spontaneously winked into existence,   going about its tempestuous business directly in their path. All that could be done was to hope and pray.

Miraculously, Helios emerged through the lower cloud deck still in one piece; shooting like some dark meteor towards the watery deep, visible only when eerily silhouetted by brilliant flashes of lightening punctuating the surrounding gloom.

 Touchdown proved nothing short of  explosive. Amazingly neither of Helios’s crew were injured, nonetheless, the two women though badly shaken were blessedly thankful their lives had been spared. Darkness shrouded the cabin, as Ursula rummaged around for a torch. Having found it at the bottom of her toolbox, at least some illumination was forthcoming. Prizing open a utility hatch, there spirits sank as the sight of fried power relay circuitry greeted them.  Upon seeing this, Ursula cursed quietly, exclaiming it would take hours to repair. As if on cue, yet another unwanted problemclammoured for attention– Helios appeared to be going under – dragged down by some unknown force; The Sail!         

Activating  an emergency beacon that would hopefully alert any vessel within several hundred miles of their location, Ursula tried repeatedly to raise the retrieval team via satellite phone. “Damn! Where the hell are they? And why can’t I get a bloody signal on this thing?!” Now listing dangerously, against her colleague’s somewhat vocal protestations, Clarissa explained it was vital she exit the ship in order to detach the sail which by now was literally  behaving like an anchor pulling Helios down with it.

Reluctantly, Ursula agreed, opening the main hatch thus permitting the storm’s frigid blast to intrude upon their fragile sanctuary. Clambering out, Clarissa grimaced as icy wind and rain mercilessly assailed her. Partially closing it upon Clair’s departure so as to afford a little protection from the elements,  the remaining woman set about the grim task of working  on repairs, all the while persisting with the unresponsive satellite phone whilst  keeping in constant communication with Clarissa,  agreeing hesitantly to every suggestion offered walking  her through the steps necessary to separate sail from ship.

It didn’t take long. Not fifteen minutes into their plan, Ursula – Indeed Helios itself was violently thrown across the sea as an almighty flash of lightning blindingly illuminated the cabin. Adrenaline coursing through her veins,  Gripped by fear, she quickly exited the craft herself only to be  confronted by a  frightful image –the twisted wreck of metal and sailcloth   rapidly being swept away, caught ferociously in the ocean’s icy grip. For one terrifying moment,  she panicked, unable to see Clare through sheeting rain driving relentlessly between the two,  only to glimpse an orange flash  out of the corner of her eye. Relief however was short lived as hale after hail  went unanswered. Possibilities too grim for  contemplation were best left unexplored for the time being.  With not a moment’s hesitation, tethered to the ship via means of an improvised safety line   she dove into the brine, desperately attempting to reach her fallen comrade. Such efforts nonetheless proved fruitless as Ursula, weighed down by the heavy flight suit, stood no chance of even remotely reaching Clarissa, being swept further away with every heartbeat.                    Shattered and fast becoming chilled, her only choice was to haul herself back to Helios and wait; wait and pray somehow, some way, they would both survive this nightmare.

Chapter 4

CLARISSA'S RESCUE

Somehow the water didn't feel like a threat to Claire; it was, after all, where she spent most of her life.  Of course, the vast majority of that was spent on a deck, or within her tiny berth as opposed to actually in the sea, but she knew how to survive most conditions, having drilled again and again and again.
  As the sail came free, with herself on top of it, she had been thrown about by the rough conditions before she could separate herself from the assembly, and eventually used what was now her only knife to cut her way free.  Two hours later, she also had to balance whether the scant warmth provided by the flight -suit was worth its weight,  threatening to drag at her even further.  Besides which, it was a claustrophobic piece of work; Claire eventually deciding that it was a problem she could do without.

   Clarissa kept the tools in their pouch, including the flare gun (which she hoped was not too wet to use) and reeled in the line, just in case.  Just in case of what, she wasn't sure but one never knew  when line might come in handy.  There was blood on the inside of the suit as she flung it clear of herself.  The bright splay of orange sat on the  water’s surface for a few moments before itself sinking: so it appeared she had made the correct decision.  However, she was too cold to feel how she might have been injured.
  She hoped Ursula had the sense to stay in the capsule.
  The storm raged around her; there were no stars to guide her way and the moon was quite invisible.  If she recalled correctly, it should be three-quarters full, but no glimmer showed.
  How long could she last?  Claire had really expected rescue by now; surely the satellite had watched Helios' trajectory as it plummeted to Earth.  A helicopter shouldn't have any great task to cross the distance between herself and the capsule, even though she couldn't see any sign of either, but she was at sea level; not a couple of hundred metres above.
  Claire considered her situation. She was injured but didn't know where or how.  Her arms and legs were all working to keep her afloat, even in this maelstrom, ergo, it couldn't be that bad.  She was cold, but while she could not even begin to make an estimate of the temperature, there were no signs of ice forming, and she still felt cold, which in turn meant that hypothermia was not a current danger; neither was she sleepy (in fact, quite the reverse).  None of this told her precisely how long she could expect to live, but it did indicate that barring accidents and vicious marine wildlife, the end was not immanent.
  A wave pulled her across several feet and she tried to quell the feeling that it was dragging her away from Helios .   Clarissa couldn't know that; and there would be very little point in trying to strike out and swim in any given direction as she couldn't be sure of her starting point, or which way the capsule had drifted.  It was very frustrating to have to keep afloat and wait for rescue, rather than trying to help oneself .
   A few moments later  yet another flash of lightening revealed sails!
  Claire felt a burst of jubilation and didn't even pause to wonder what sail was doing out in this weather; as Sailing Master, she would generally take in all sail, ride out the storm and correct their course when it cleared: certainly a Tall Ship didn't go anywhere with sufficient sense of urgency to warrant carrying any more sail than was necessary to stabilise the vessel.  However, sail would mean rescue, if she could just attract their attention.
  Using  this new hope to boost her strength, Claire kicked furiously with her legs so she could extract the flare gun from her kit over head,   doing all she could that it may remain dry as necessary.   Holding it aloft the first flare was fired.  She counted one hundred and twenty seconds carefully, and thought the ship looked just a little closer before firing again.

. During a storm, Captain Sir Edward Pellew  preferred having two officers on deck,  plus an additional two midshipmen, rather than  leaving Indifatigable to the care of only one allowing   him a chance  to invite the other two to his cabin; on this occasion for a disappointingly cold supper.   Such arrangements ensured only one messenger need be sent to alert the captain and other officers of any problems, or fetch them should they be needed.  During this storm, his rolling, pitching ship was in the care of Bracegirdle and Kennedy; the first and the most junior of his four lieutenants, respectively (circumstances necessitating Lt. Bracegirdle pitch in with watch).
  "Yes?" he called in response to the knocking at the door,  Pelu’s marine guard  granting Lieutenant Kenedy entry. Clinging almost vainly to the doorway as the vessel heaved,   (, Hornblower and Bush  also experiencing some difficulty  in finding their balance ),  it appeared  this  storm had  grown worse or they were trying to make headway into it!
  "Sir, Mr Bracegirdle's complements.  Two flares have been sighted and he has altered course," Kennedy reported.  "We believe they came from a small boat, in distress."
  "Very well," Pellew accepted, indicating to his supper companions that he  required their assistance as well.  "What happened?"
  "Mr Bracegirdle and I both thought we saw a flare, so I kept a look out, counted and almost exactly two minutes later another flare went up from just about the same position."  The report  explained Kennedy's sodden uniform, the telescope clutched in his grip and his lack of hat.  One of his less endearing habits was to continue to behave as though he were a midshipman, at times.
  "You acted as lookout?" Bush enquired.
  "Aye, sir.  Mr Calder can't swim and Mr Edgerton is afraid of heights.  I didn't think it was the right opportunity to challenge their courage.  Besides…I had the count."
  Hmm, thought Pellew, his continuing to coddle the younger midshipmen was also a flaw in the young man, but he let it pass this time.  If it turned out that this was a false alarm, and they did not need to heave to for rescue, he would speak to Mr Kennedy, then.
  They heard Styles report as they came out on deck.  "Sir!  Sir - there is someone in the water!"
  "Throw him a line, Styles," Hornblower shouted back.
  Kennedy trotted down to the deck, unhindered by the heavy weather gear the rest of them had adopted, to see the situation for himself.  "Not a boat, sir!" he called back.
  Pellew frowned; so did the others, and Bracegirdle voiced the one thing they were wondering; "then how did he fire a flare?"
  "Perhaps if he were sinking, it was the last thing he could have done," Pellew responded.  "Perhaps while he still could, rather than because we were sighted."
  "We're very far out for a boat," Bush pointed out.  "And we haven't seen another ship for days."
  The line was being thrown out, and Pellew went down to the main deck to attend their guest.  Bush - ever practical,   readied a weapon in case it turned out to be an enemy who required arresting, but they were only likely to face a knife if that were the case.  A sword was too heavy to retain, plus pistol and shot would be too wet to use.  Styles was putting his back into the work of hauling the refugee aboard, although he seemed to be pulling himself onto the deck quite well by himself.
  Finally, Kennedy helped him over the rail, and threw a blanket over him.
  Or rather, her.
  On the instant she was recognised for what she was, his crew began to expect her to swoon on the deck, and Kennedy gallantly called for another blanket.
  "Madam," Pellew addressed.  "I must welcome you aboard Indefatigable."
  "Thank you, sir," she said, despite shivering and clutching the blanket to her.  "Can you continue on this heading?  My friend is still out there."
  After a few moments of quiet, save for the howling gale, Pellew replied, "if you hadn't noticed, madam, we are in the middle of a storm, and struggling to remain hove to as it is."
  "There's no-one else in the water 'ere, sir," Styles confirmed.
  "No, she wouldn't be - we were separated when I had to disengage the sail assembly.  It was going to drag as down, and somehow the storm pulled us in opposite directions."
  "How far?" Hornblower asked.
  "There was no point of reference," the woman answered.  Then she consulted a device on her wrist.  "We were separated about five hours and thirty-seven minutes ago…" she must have seen their reactions, and correctly assumed them to be unfavourable, as she immediately went into another speech.  Not a female prone to fainting, Pellew thought, and wondered whether the swooners or the arguers were the worst type of women; he always wished to deal with the other, when one was in front of him.  This one was an arguer.  "She stands a better chance of survival than I do; she can swim just as well and she's still in the capsule…erm…ship.  She has all the survival gear with her, Captain and if I'm still alive, then the odds are very much in her favour."
  "Your companion is another lady?" Bracegirdle asked.
  "Yes," their guest responded, as though the question were very strange indeed.
  "Then we must search, sir!" Kennedy exclaimed.
  "Thank you, Mr Kennedy," Pellew snapped.  "I must consider the lives of the  men aboard this ship."
  "Fine," the woman retorted.  Kennedy tried to wrap her in the second blanket, and her frustrated response was to thrust both back at him.  "Then give me a boat and I'll do it myself."
  It was not so much her words as her appearance that had them gaping at her.  She was wearing an indecently tight vest-like article, which defined her figure (not even clad in corset) only too well.  Her trousers might have been quite loose when dry, but clung to her legs over a pair of very plain boots that were not generally worn by ladies.  The 'vest' was bloodstained, and the mark was fresh, not old.  She was about to take exception to their lack of response, but then followed their eyes down to her side.  As she felt the stain, her hand came away bloody, but she only looked worried for a moment, and then set her jaw.
  "It makes no difference," she said, firmly.  "If you won't go after her then I must; and I damn well will, one way or another."
  "Mr Kennedy," Pellew addressed icily.  "My complements to Dr  Astone and would he kindly attend our guest in my cabin, where you may escort her.  Mr Bracegirdle - we shall continue on this heading and search for a ship in distress."
  For the first time, the woman smiled, and he was pleased to see that it softened her hard face.  "Thank you, Captain?"
  "Sir Edward Pellew, Madam."
 The way the colour and smile drained from her face however  did not enhance her appearance  one iota.

Chapter 5

Clinging to the capsule, Ursula fought to contain   an all-encompassing shock which threatened (if not kept well and truly under control), to fully take over.  To her utter horror, Clare, torn from Helios whilst endeavouring to release THE solar sail (lest the vessel be drawn under by ITS dead weight),  was  herself dragged beneath the raging sea. Darkness surrounded all, broken only intermittently by the storm’s formidable display of light and power. Another rolling wave left Clare and sail assembly lost from view completely. Fruitlessly,  repeated attempts to hale her fallen comrade via personal communicator were made, but to no avail.  Growing deeply worried (though succeeding for the most part in stemming the onset of panic), Ursula hauled herself back inside the capsule where at least some protection from the elements was forthcoming.

Two hours had passed since their landing. To her surprise,  no hint of rescue had thus far materialised. Ursula ran through the chain of events leading to this very point. Even though Helios had indeed lost all power, repeated messages had been sent prior to re-entry through a multitude of different avenues; radio,  satellite phone, even email. Furthermore, upon touchdown, the emergency beacon was immediately activated, alerting not only the ground-crew and landing team, but any sea or air going vessel within several hundred  miles of their position.  Surely, even if by some remote co-incidence too outrageous for contemplation both retrieval team and ground control were “otherwise indisposed”, someone had to have picked up the distress-signal beaming out to all in earshot. Furthermore, why on earth wasn’t the satellite phone able to tap into the network? Permitting no time to be lost through worry, Ursula, partly in an effort to take her mind off current circumstances, partly because the job required attention, set about repairing the damaged power-relay, a hand-held torch her only source of illumination. Even this task, unfinished,  was complicated by the storm’s chaotic squall intruding upon her refuge, the hatch (for purposes of providing an air supply) being left ajar. Eventually, the very real threat of water damage to Helios’s vast array of electronics and computer equipment left but one avenue open – that of exiting the capsule, shutting the hatch and taking her chances on the outside. To be sure, Ursula could have donned an environment suit (containing both an independent source of oxygen and thermal protection). This did however, even in the face of current circumstances, seem just a little extreme. So, fully aware of the risk inherent in such a decision, Ursula braced herself, exited into the storm (ensuring she was well tethered) flare gun and satellite phone at the ready and waited. Time seemed to crawl by at a dirge-like pace. Long frustrated by the deluge pelting at her spectacles, they were removed and stowed safely within her flight suit. Chilled to the bone, sleep descended upon a lone smudge of orange, drifting helplessly somewhere out to sea.

Waking some hours later, temporarily disorientated, the storm’s constant onslaught soon reminded Ursula where she was. Shivering now almost uncontrollably with cold, upon managing to don her glasses, a quick glance at the sat-phone’s clock indicated four hours had passed. Where were they?! Rapidly overcome by fatigue, she surrendered into its icy embrace again. The following nineteen hours passed in similar fashion, tormented sleep broken periodically by spells of wakefulness. Gradually, , to her growing horror, Ursula found the cold bothering her less and less, barely noticing it while being unable to feel her extremities. Praying Clare’s fate might be just a little more merciful, well aware hypothermia‘s deadly grip fastened about her minute buy minute, hour by hour, she, dumbstruck by this revelation, did not care a wit. Raving now, conversations, even arguments were had with mission specialists, her flight director (a dour little man Ursula could never truly abide) and even dearest Tony, their collective presence real as the very storm itself. Fast surrendering to the Hypothermic stupor taking control, one particularly bright flash of lightening illuminated a ship? Yes! (even to poorly focusing eyes), A ship! In the distance through the storm. What on earth was a sailing vessel doing out in weather like this? Almost certain it was yet another facet of her delusion, through slurred ramblings, enough coherence  was mustered for a flare-gun to be reached and pointed skywards, discharging its scarlet  ball of flame for anyone mad enough to be searching. Strength fast slipping away, Ursula managed to fire it a second time before losing her grip,  dropping the gun into the deep,  the scientist herself suspended above the waters only by her improvised tether as unconsciousness finally claimed its prize.

On the deck of Indefatigable, for the second time during this damnable storm, Lts Kennedy and Bracegirdle served the watch allotted to them. Sending  the  Indi deeper into  such danger seemed little more than sheer lunacy especially considering the chances of finding this supposed second survivor, and a lady at that, were admittedly virtually impossible. Nonetheless, many years of trusted service had taught Bracegirdle at any rate, his captain’s judgment on such matters was never mistaken. Additionally, to leave a member of the fairer sex stranded in open waters upon a night such as this was unconscionable. And so, nearly twenty four hours after the first survivor hauled herself aboard, the unmistakable glow of a flare once more illuminated storm-ravaged skies. Again, a second flare followed. Kennedy was first to catch sight of the form, helpless in the turbulent seas– a metallic craft of sorts, stranger than anything he’d ever seen in his life, riding high in the water, it’s occupant clad in a most  extraordinary suit of brilliant orange, motionless, held above the  surface by nothing than what looked to be THE  FLIMSIEST OF ROPES. Passing the word for Captain Pelu’s presence, orders were quickly called as the men prepared to lower a boat. Clare, upon learning what was going on, to the consternation of the ship’s surgeon, Dr. Francis Astone, with a concerted effort, rose to her feet, making her way topside.

Uncertain whether this new rescuee was actually alive or not, upon the jollyboat   coming alongside Helios, Styles  got in close enough to reach her. One finger placed beneath her  nostrils did indeed reveal the breath of life, so, with great care, he cut the line attaching   Ursula to the vessel, successfully gathering her into the boat’s safety. Ursula’s countenance was deathly indeed, hair drenched, falling like strands of  weed about her shoulders, an already pale complecsion now  a ghostly white seemingly bereft of life.  Very briefly, emerald green eyes fluttered open to stare in mute disbelief upon her rescuer, before the faintest of words were spoken and unconsciousness once more claimed its victim…”Please Save my ship, you must save my ship” was barely audible above the commotion. A quick word to Matthews, seated beside him, his expression one of grim concern was followed by a series of orders and a resultant hive of activity as a sturdy line was secured about this otherworldly little craft, safely attaching it to the larger vessel.

“Good God!” more a sincere prayer for mercy from the Almighty rather than an inappropriate curse, was all Captain Pelu could utter upon seeing the poor lifeless being Styles carried up onto the deck. Even Bracegirdle’s usually  steady nerves became a  tumult of grave   concern mingled with deepest compassion upon catching sight of this wretched creature, barely clinging to survival, plucked from the deep just in the  nick of time. Ordering Dr. Astone’s attendance upon their newest arrival, styles followed him down to the sick birth, Ursula still unmoving in his arms. Upon erecting a makeshift screen before one of several coal braziers,  a cot usually reserved for officers was moved into place. Clare, having followed behind, though still in a good degree of pain as a result of her own injuries, was charged with the task of removing the flight suit and coverall. Drying her thoroughly, then dressing her in a clean white shirt donated  by one of the crew, she drew several blankets about her comrade before also laying down on the cot, holding Ursula close in an attempt to  impart additional warmth.  Slowly, painfully, the glow of life crept through  the woman’s frozen body. Dr. Astone periodically entered the add-hock cubical to check Ursula’s pulse and  gauge her temperature  whilst attending to Clarrisa’s own injuries at the same time. Satisfied both were progressing as well as could be expected (especially considering Clare  was proving a most stubborn and difficult patient), he by and large left them in peace.

Wakefulness hit Ursula like an all-out assault of war! Terrible pain wracked every inch of her weary body, thirst assailed her and complete disorientation overwhelmed her. Where was she?! Gentle rocking indicated she must be on a ship of some sort, then it hit her. Helios, the disasterous landing, clare, Clare! To her relief, clare sat right beside her, donned in similar attire as was she, softly reassuring her nothing untoward had taken place. “Where are we?”, “We’re somewhere safe”, Clare answered, ( uncertain as to Ursula’s ability to accept what could only be deemed impossible). Thankful for the lantern’s gentle illumination, Ursula was certainly not thankful for the pervasive odor of below decks somewhat more pronounced in their current location (mingled with other “scents” she rather wished would remain unidentifiable. Gaining the attention of a small, scrawny boy no more than perhaps nine or ten years of age, Clare requested Dr. Astone be called to have a look at this latest turn of events. In but a few moments, a heavy set , darkly complexcioned man, midnight curls pulled back into a cascading pony-tail, dark eyes penetrating yet tender,  somberly attired,  entered their little sanctuary, bearing a puter cup steaming with fragrant spice; Chai? After a quick introduction and a more thorough examination of her condition he assured Ursula she was safe, gently reassuring her she had nothing to fear, before passing the cup into eager, yet  trembling hands. Supporting her head and shoulders thus allowing her to sit a little and drink, he answered her questioning eyes “Yes, this is tea with a little cinemon, cloves, lemon and honey, oh, and a little drop of something which will help any pain”. Upon taking her fill (feeling so much the better for it, his lips curved up  into a gentle smile as he handed Ursula her glasses “I expect you’ve missed these”. Able to properly focus at last, she scanned the parts of the room visible to her, before placing them beside her cot and falling finally, into a peaceful sleep.     

Chapter 6

Ursula Awoke, her surroundings not simply a dream borne of delirium, rather the ship’s gentle rocking, soft illumination and frankly   unpleasant odour, larger than life, were there to greet her once again; as was Clarissa, still by her side watching with concern over her friend and colleague.  Wakefulness proved less traumatic a second time around, a thousand questions tumbling through her mind as she fought to gain control of her situation. Looking bewilderedly upon Claire, Ursula enquired as to how long she had been asleep – only to learn (not without a good degree of shock) a day and a night had run their course.

Requesting, with a tinge of embarrassment, assistance to   the convenience, to Ursula’s astonishment, she was informed that such as she was used to didn’t exist (Clare motioning to a humble chamber pot off to one corner of their little cubical.  Commenting, with not a little humour in her voice that  these sea-faring recreationists certainly left nothing to the imagination  concerning an authentic old-world experience, her colour fast drained completely upon learning this (as ludicrous as it seemed) was not in actual fact an historical tall ship but the real thing; that somehow beyond all logic,  their return to Earth was no mere plunge into the heart of a raging sea storm, but a plunge back in time approximately two centuries – Furthermore, they had the pleasure of being rescued by none other than the famed Capt. Sir Edward Pelu himself and were now safely aboard His majesty’s Britannic Ship Indefatigable.   Her pallor lifting, Ursula’s face broke into a broad smile as she congratulated Clarissa for very nearly succeeding  to convince her of this clearly ridiculous story. Obviously, the storm’s ferocity had disabled all communications both from Helios and their personal devices. Divine providence placed an historic  ship in their path and as soon as she made a short call upon the satellite phone, the flight team would send a retrieval boat or helicopter to pick them up - they’d all be counting their blessings over a curry that evening, sleeping comfortably in their beds that night.

Seeing Clarissa’s sober expression clearly remaining, Ursula’s cheer quickly evaporated to be replaced by an eerie sickening feeling deep within her.

“You’re not joking are you Clare”, “Are you!”

Clarissa, vainly searching for any words appropriate for their situation slowly shook her head in mute confirmation. Requesting she be given her phone, it seemed this too would not be possible – it, along with all their hand-held technology being kept under lock and key by the captain. Fast becoming agitated as a result of their grave situation, Ursula made to rise and confront this Pelu directly, clearly aggrieved by this perceived act of hostility against her person. No sooner had she made to stand than an overwhelming dizziness forced  her to sit back down upon the cot. At this moment, Dr. Astone entered, introducing himself properly  and taking the opportunity to examine both women, pleased with their progress; Ursula’s especially. Promising some refreshment and a basin of hot water for a rudimentary bathe, he vanished, said articles being brought some minutes later, to the relief of both ladies.

Much revived, looking somewhat more put together than she had upon being brought aboard the Indi, Ursula enquired as to how she might arrange to see the captain of this admittedly unbelievable ship. Upon Dr. Astone deeming her fit enough to leave sick birth, word was sent to Capt. Pelu; himself eager, if not a little unsettled, to meet this most unusual of rescuees.Thus, accompanied by a lad no older than thirteen or fourteen; apparently a midshipman by the name of Grey,  she made her way to Pelu’s day cabin. Clearly astounded by the sights and sounds of what increasingly resembled an actual early nineteenth century naval frigate, not a word  passed between parties. Arriving at her destination, Ursula, now more than a little wary, upon being introduced, made her entrance

Suddenly feeling very small indeed,  she surveyed the room and its occupants. Seated at a finely crafted desk sat a man of about forty, attired in the uniform of  a Regency naval captain. With formidable countenance bespeaking many years of service (Not to mention an expression which left no doubts he easily figured the measure of a man – missing nothing),  introductions were made  whereupon  he  introduced a somewhat stoutly built fellow, his uniform immaculate as it must have appeared upon the day of its  first wearing also  rising to greet their guest, a first lieutenant as it turned out, going by the name of Bracegirdle”.   Estimates put him also around forty, perhaps a little older. His expression though  likewise reflecting the gravity of  their situation possessed  qualities of the eternal optimist, kindly blue eyes containing a look of gentle reassurance. Introductions over, the captain bade Ursula be at her ease and sit down before offering his guest all proper hospitality.         

Beating back an overwhelming feeling of utter disbelief, Ursula, fearing herself at a significant disadvantage took the initiative, offering sincere thanks to pelu for not only coming to the aid of herself and her colleague, but also placing both themselves and their ship in considerable danger whilst undertaking the rescue. Her words interrupted by the return of Pelu’s steward, Doughty,  pouring a much appreciated cup of tea  for their guest, Pelu, himself very nearly matching her astonishment at the strangeness of their situation –finding it difficult to come to grips  with the two refugees of the sea now aboard the Indi, began asking the first of a great many questions.

Upon giving the full names and titles of  she and Clarissa, Ursula, determined to deal with the situation in the only way pheasable – that of complete honesty, slowly began detailing her own mission. Stunned into disbelief, several times throughout her telling of what could only be the most ridiculous tale both Pelu and Bracegirdle had heard throughout their entire naval careers, the captain made to cut this woman short;  fair infuriated by her outlandish ramblings. After all, only someone completely delusional would even dream of concocting a story even the most inebriated of sailors would  never dare pass off as truth to their brethren, let alone a captain in His majesty’s  finest. Unable to withstand being made a fool of any longer, lady or not, Pelu  (barely able to contain his own rage) ordered her stop this pointless charade immediately and perhaps try a less embellished, more truthful explanation for how the two ladies really found themselves drifting out to sea off the  British coast  slap bang in the middle of the English channel. Only a quiet word from Bracegirdle prevented Pelu from throwing not only Ursula but her partner in crime into the brig that instant as potential spies – the captain viewing anything but the most conventional of seagoing craft (including those who piloted such) with  deep mistrust. Experience after all had taught the British navy these ships could only spell secrecy, sabotage and underhanded tactics (a certain American campaign, despite its failure, striking fear  within the heart of every captain to this day). Furthermore, news had filtered down through British intelligence Fulton had been colluding with none other than napoleon himself; attempting to lead the charge in the production of a truly successful submersible – Helios herself resembling rumoured designs of just such a ship.

Thinking quickly for a solution to this dilemma, Ursula requested her hand-held devices be returned instantly, thus once demonstrated   providing validation of her story, implausible as it was.  Upon this request being respectfully denied (for fear such articles were indeed as yet unknown experimental weapons) she requested the garment she was wearing upon her rescue be brought in. Pelu, unable to come up with any suitable reason why this could not be so agreed. In but a few moments of being summoned, Doughty returned bearing the requested article of protective-wear, it’s brilliant orange contrasting sharply with the more somber tones adorning both cabin and occupants. Rising to her feet, allowing the  suit to unfold in her hands, she offered it to Pelu for a closer inspection. Examining it closely, Ursula all the while described its properties to him– the fact, though no oilskin, rather a synthetic or man-made fabric, the suit was not only waterproof but airtight upon gloves, boots and helmet being donned by its wearer. Drawing his attention to both the mission patch, ESA’s insignia and the union jack prominent upon its right upper sleeve, the  façade of disbelief seemed to shift though barely. Bracegirdle on the other hand was taking in proceedings with an air of observant curiosity. Nonetheless,  Pelu’s reply of “This is all  very well, but…”, successfully sank ursula’s spirits. Struck with what seemed to her a brilliant plan, the scientist once more requested her effects be returned with the added protection of the sentry’s presence  she’d noticed upon entry “ensuring the safety of all concerned”. Agreeing upon the proviso she not try anything improper, the captain himself disappeared into another  cabin adjoining their present location returning to her delight with the satellite phone, two small personal communicators and a slim metallic cylinder (a rescue beacon. Placing all upon the table visible to everyone, Ursula requested the satellite phone Showing apparent disinterest  toward everything else offered (resembling, to the gentlemen present, an unusually fashioned powder compact. Flipping it open however, all three men’s jaws dropped as the device was activated – text, yes text, and pictures! Lord have mercy, Pictures!  Appeared inside a small lighted square covering the inside of what seemed to be  its “Lid”. Upon Ursula speaking into the machine then playing back  her words as if by magic, all present were awestruck. To their astonishment, this unfathomable woman went on to hold the back of the compact out, sweeping it carefully from one side to another, capturing not only the  voices but  images of all three men and their surroundings for all to see. Pale as ghosts, none could  take in the evidence  large as life– too wild  for belief! Yet there it was, embodied in the  form of Ursula Davis seated before them, her personal keepsakes as  gift offerings presented to a disbelieving tribesman whose own reality was a continent and  time apart from the present – two worlds colliding with  ramifications none could predict.

Managing to hold his composure, Pelu dismissed his guest free to return to sick birth for the moment, adding the presence of both women would be requested later that afternoon. Alone with his first lieutenant, door safely shut behind the retreating Ursula, both men took a little while to gather their thoughts, a shot of brandy easing the process somewhat. Minds railing against what their senses clearly observed, the question now arose  concerning what on earth to do with these most unique of travellers. For a certainty their true origins could not be shared with any but the most trusted of senior staff, let alone the Indi’s rank and file crew. If Admiralty even thought they were catching wind of this one, Pelu would find himself committed or court marshaled – or worse. As if this were not serious enough, there would be no way whatsoever the two women could ever share their true identity with any but the  Indi’s   highest ranking officers and even then the les the better. Additionally, all present unanimously agreed their guests continue aboard their new home for the foreseeable future as two  women galavanting about England possessing neither connections nor living, from their backgrounds would, as Pelu himself put it, be highly inadvisable for all concerned. Aware of recent developments with that folly later to be known as the hot air balloon, both captain and first lieutenant decided upon the only solution open to them; a  further meeting of Pelu’s  inner circle deeming, for the sake of the crew,  the women Aeronaughts – eccentric , poorly prepared aeronaughts. For the moment however, the captain needed to be absolutely sure there could be no shadow of a doubt concerning the true identity of his rescued ladies. Thus, that very same afternoon, Ursula found herself sitting across from her host once again, requested (politely of course) to provide further evidence as to her   background. Learning Helios  itself had been stowed in the ship’s hold, nothing could be done but reveal its secrets – if they believed themselves able to be confronted by technology and engineering feets which would dwarf those of her  personal effects earlier that day. Somewhat tentatively agreeing to this plan, pelu assigned both Bracegirdle ( on account of his rank and years of experience) and Hornblower (on account of his unwavering logical approach to all that he found himself presented with) to escort and supervise this operation – two officers “just in case”.

So there they were, standing within the Indi’s depths, Helios’ other-worldly image softly reflecting dim lantern light upon its metallic grey surface – a tear-drop from heaven no greater than twelve feet in length, seven feet across and approximately six feet in height, tapering conically into precision point perfection boldly proclaiming its name and mission insignia for all to see; tiny windows at the narrowest end of the craft revealing nothing. Humbly introducing her life’s work, the  two officers accompanying her could not help but draw a sharp intake of breath, never before even imagining such an unusually beautiful craft could exist, let alone be thought up! Fighting back the tears even now making themselves known, Ursula could not but be moved upon witnessing Helios’s beaten state, the scars of re-entry clear upon its exterior – precious solar sail nowhere in sight. With a voice barely louder than a whisper, Ursula enquired whether a sail assembly   fashioned from similar metal to her  ship had been retrieved, an answer of no threatening to plunge her spirits deep indeed, for without the solar sail, even dreaming of a return into space (and perhaps to the anomaly responsible for casting both women back two hundred years) would be utterly unthinkable.

Bracegirdle, mindful of Ursula’s imminent distress quietly suggested they could return tomorrow or a few days hence; perhaps when she felt more able to take in what lay before them only for this lady to  prove  herself imbued with greater determination than ever. Making their way to the far side of the craft, Ursula reached out her hand, touching a small patch to the left of what appeared to be a hatchway or door, prompting a whir of commotion as it proceeded to open completely free of human assistance! (Helios’s hatch being of course independently   powered). With a theatrical gesture, she bade both men draw closer to examine for themselves what lay before them, to touch this magical ship which itself touched the very stars. With much caution, they did so, taken by its satiny smoothness. Requesting some additional lantern-light, Hornblower obliged as Bracegirdle  attentively watched every single move  the woman made. Requesting permission to entre the craft, , she climbed within Helios’s interior, kicking her toe against  a tool box which had been disturbed upon the ship being  transferred into the hold. Stifling a curse, she asked for some additional light – Hornblower passing in a lantern, barely bright enough for the job,  hardly enlightening the indi’s Lieutenants to Helios’s hidden secrets. After some hours  spent repairing her vessel’s most critical  systems - peppered with several poorly stifled exclamations no lady should have ever been caught uttering, a glorious whoop of excitement rang forth as brilliant white light lit up Helios  luminous as a fireworks display! Her countenance one of sheer joy, Ursula stood at the hatchway, her own face almost as radiant as her ship’s glow, humbly inviting  one of the  officers to come aboard and see for himself. As room for three was an obvious impossibility, Hornblower (in deference to the first lieutenant’s rank)  waited dutifully at the entrance. Upon clambering inside, but a few steps led  Bracie into Helios’s tiny cramped bridge or “cockpit” as Ursula referred to it. Slack-jawed with astonishment, he wordlessly took in his surrounds, taking a seat to ursula’s right, mesmerized by panels before and above of countless tiny devices, some resembling buttons, others defying comprehension, others still labeled with letters of the alphabet into some sort of board  in front of a  square expanse perhaps fifteen inches by fifteen inches. Two tiny windows one either side of this square were Helios’s only openings to the outside world. With the expertise of a concert pianist, Ursula’s hands flew across the controls as one by one  ship’s systems came to life. Overwhelmed by the sight  confronting him, Bracegirdle looked on as the square lit up with brilliant words, characters and even pictures flashing across its surface at breathtaking speed. Suddenly, as if peering through a window into a far distant fantastical land, Ursula herself stood, clarissa by her side  accompanied by several gentlemen (though their dress certainly resembled that of no gentleman Bracie had ever met in his life), exuberant with joy, going on about years of  tireless effort against all odds finally bearing fruit – project Helios to be launched “tomorrow” as at least one familiar sight appeared – that of a Champaign bottle being duly opened, its contents ecstatically poured out into rather plain looking flutes, all raising their glasses “to the mission”. Fingers skipping across the instruments, Ursula seemed to be racing through image after image till she stopped at the most extraordinary site the man beside her had ever witnessed in his life – a rocket – an enormously powerful rocket pulling away from the ground  with devastating speed. If this were not terrible enough, to his utter shock, the very earth itself retreated as though startled below it till finally (after jettisoning the spent portions) it slowed to a halt, the  planet itself  resplendent  beneath  - a breathtaking gem of unparalleled beauty – seas, clouds,  geographical features visible before them! Gazing upon   these super-human images, Italy with it’s Cicilian companion could be seen drifting below as the Mediterranean coast visibly passed by. Moved  virtually to tears , Bracegirdle reached out as if to touch the very  spectacle itself, exclaiming, as God was his witness, such  visions could  not  surely be of this world; unearthly forces their ownly possible origin. With gentle reassurance, Ursula softly, a look of awe upon her own face, affirmed this was indeed nothing more than the result of science and invention, adding there was nothing to fear. Still in play, a new image appeared, that of a majestic silver  “canvas” opening out against the blackness of space – the solar sail, carried along by nothing more than the gentle pressure of sunlight. All of a sudden,  a glowing flourish  with the appearance of static electricity flashed across  ship and canopy before vanishing almost as quickly as it sprang up, A glance back at the image of Earth revealed a cloud mass spanning the channel simply not  present moments before. This was Ursula’s turn to become  shaken as, for the first time following their spectacular re-entry and rescue, a tantalizing clue as to the nature of their mishap lay  revealed before our now stranded space pioneer; simply   confirming what she’d already begun to suspect  concerning the cause of their present predicament – some type of space-borne phenomenon impossible either to capture or reproduce.

Ursula’s  demonstration complete, she requested an opportunity to bring several pieces of technology and tools above, in order Helios’s power supply or at the very least that of the “window” referred to as a “notebook” could be worked upon, stressing once again Captain, officers and crew had absolutely nothing to fear.  Upon such being passed along the chain of command to Captain Pelu ( tentatively agreeing( work began concerning the disassembly of above said components to be joined by several sheets of solar paneling (stowed in case of mid-flight emergency repair) , not forgetting that infamous toolbox. Turning to exit the craft,  Bracegirdle’s eye was caught by what appeared to be a small frame, face down upon the floor. Stooping to retrieve it, an exclamation of shock escaped him upon beholding a portrait showing the scientist adorned in an elegant gown of brilliant white, chestnut tresses cascading freely below  the finest of gossamer veils, besides whom stood a striking man, sharply turned out (a good foot taller than his diminutive companion) Offering the find with all due discression, he dby no means missed the shadow of grief flickering across her visage. Enquiring as to the fellow gazing back at him, Ursula, fighting for composure, quietly let it be known It had been twelve months since he’d gone – her beloved Tony, whose heart and soul for the work carried them to the stars – tragically cut down before his time.  handing the picture to its owner without a word, she carefully tucked it away amongst the paraphanalia taken from her craft; all three going above  shrouded in an air of silent contemplation.     

Returning to Pelu’s cabin, confirmation as to the validity of their guest’s story was indeed irrefutable – Bracegirdle still visibly moved by what he had witnessed. Immediately Pelu called a snap meeting of senior staff, whereupon agreement was reached with regards to his planned explanation as to the obvious differences plainly visible to all who spent even a short time speaking with either lady. Well aware suitable accommodationns were a point of necessity, Pelu offered his private quarters for exclusive use by Ursula and Clarissa, opting to rough it in the chart room. Protestations of causing such an inconvenience on Ursula’s part were quickly brushed aside,  the scientist , upon just a little more thought, seeing the sense of such hospitality, admittedly very happy Daughty’s services formed part of the bargain, as did those of a marine assigned sentry duty – safety of course at the fore. Additionally, the  provision of a sunny out-of-the-way place up on deck where Ursula could quietly work without disturbing ships routine or crew served to brighten her spirits markedly.

Deeply apologetic as to an obvious lack of attire or amenities suitable for the fairer sex, Ursula spared nothing in expressing her relief to be alive and well – and not in “enemy hands”. As she put it, “lack of convenience”  is a small price to pay for one’s survival”. Relief clear upon the faces of all present, Ursula graciously accepted an invitation to dine later that evening with Pelu and his officers; a first step in aquainting our ladies to their new life in very different times indeed.     

Chapter 7

Up on deck, a lone figure,  perched upon a coil of rope, engrossed in the task at hand  reviewed the calculations for what seemed the thousandth time.  Fatigue  weighing heavily upon her mind, barely able to stay focused on the small screen  in front of her, Ursula ran the sequence yet again, hoping despite the odds for an answer other than that which had  revealed itself once more in mocking defiance.

 Having all but wasted the past fifteen hours in pursuit of this vain folly, utter dejection advancing unstoppably as the very tide itself  engulfed Ursula’s shattered spirits.

Wearily resting her head in her hands, approaching footsteps broke in upon  this melancholic reverie, as Clarissa, standing impatiently before her, demanded answers.   

Barely able to respond, left with little choice in the matter, she spelled out the truth of their situation   in all its grim finality.