Buried In Blue

by L G Rollins

  If the submarine suddenly failed, they were probably close enough to the surface to swim up. That is, if they could all make it out of the hatch above them in time. Rowley had mentioned escape pods. Did he say off the second level? That was the level the crew slept on, the level she was on now. He hadn’t shown them how to operate the small machines, though he had promised enough space for everyone should they be needed. Was it simple to operate? Could she do it herself, without hours of training?

  Elise swung her legs over the edge of her bunk, the bed was too close to the ceiling to sit up completely, and dropped to the bedchamber floor. She needed to stop thinking like this.

  Once, when her brothers were home on holiday from Eton, they’d nailed her inside an old chest from the woodshed. Kept calling it her coffin. A groomsman found her after only a few minutes, but her cheeks were already covered in tears and she hadn’t ever cared for dark, closed-off rooms since.

  Nonetheless, his was getting ridiculous. The submarine was not going to collapse. No matter how deep they dove. That was one of the main reasons they hired out the Gearhound—it could dive to even deeper than the parameters of this experiment necessitated. They were safe. She was safe.

  Still, she’d feel better not stuck in her bedchamber.

  Elise reached for her lab coat, which she’d left hanging over the back of a chair earlier. Pearl rolled over and cracked open one eye, glared, and then turned her back to Elise.

  “Sorry,” Elise silently mouthed. Apparently, Pearl was not the heaviest of sleepers.

  Elise pulled on her most comfortable pair of breeches and tucked her chemise into them. Then she threw her lab coat over the top and buttoned it fully, from waist to half-way up her neck. Elise didn’t feel she could stay in her room even long enough to completely change. Besides, no one would know she wasn’t fully dressed.

  She pulled the bedchamber door open and hurried out, shutting it as softly as she could behind her. Leaving her room wasn’t the same as leaving the submarine, but she immediately felt better. Being able to stroll down the hallway and have enough room to spin around helped her lungs to feel less compressed.

  Wanting to leave her bedchamber behind her for a time, Elise climbed down the ladder. Why was the small space affecting her so? The incident with her brothers was nearly two decades ago. She hadn’t thought about it for years. Granted she’d never traveled by submarine, but this was not what she had expected. She was probably just over-excited from the day. It had been unexpectedly grand. Surely once she took a moment to walk through the quiet submarine and calm her nerves she would sleep fine.

  The control room was nearly empty. Rowley stood at the helm, his back to her. A couple other crew members Elise had yet to meet sat hunched over a large sheet of paper. Elise, feeling slightly embarrassed at the thought of interrupting others at work, continued down the ladder silently. Rowley had mentioned not going into the engineering room, but she wasn’t going to do more than just pass through. Surely that would be acceptable.

  The engineering room was lit brighter than the other levels. Nonetheless, only two crew members milled about, checking gauges and occasionally twisting small gears. While the level above held several tables with maps, the helm, and a grand window, this was like a mad scientist’s lab. More dails and tubes of swirling liquid filled the room than Elise had ever seen in one place before.

  It would be fascinating to study the instruments, learn all their many functions and uses. But, no. Not tonight. She wasn’t quite sure how long push-off took, as Rowley called it. But she wasn’t going to bother Seawoman Wimple or anyone else until she was certain it would not be an inconvenience. So, Elise continued down and found level one dark and open. In the dark it was difficult to tell for sure, but Elise couldn’t see much of anything down here. It seemed as though the entire level was one large empty room. Hadn’t Rowley said this was the cargo hold? That would explain the abundance of space.

  At the front of the submarine a glint of light caught Elise’s gaze. This trip did not include any shipping of goods, so what else might be down here? Elise walked forward, deeper into the darkness. Over a dozen metal bars, stretched from floor to ceiling. The jail cells. Two rows, one running along each side of the submarine, stood hollow and hungry. Elise moved down the narrow hallway in the center. This is where her test subjects would be securely locked up during the full moon.

  Good heavens. This was actually happening. It felt like life was rushing at her. This had come together so quickly, Elise had barely had time to catch her breath since she had met with the committee.

  They would sail for just under two weeks. Remain near the bottom of the trench for three nights, the three nights of the full moon. Then, another couple weeks would return them home to England. Sailing to the trench they would all be wondering and anxious about the results. Everything hung on those three nights. Even if no one shifted during the first two nights, Elise wasn’t going to declare the experiment a success until the moon sat on the third night. Until that moment, they wouldn’t know for sure.

  The weight of all she was about to do pressed against her heart. Elise rested her forehead against a bar. It was the same temperature as the room. Not only was everything the same color, everything appeared to be the same temperature, too. Gears above, she was already missing home.

  She clamped her jaw tight, and stood up straight. She would not allow herself to wallow in her own uncertainty. Though, she most certainly did not care to stare at the empty cells just now. This wasn’t what she had wanted to see anyways. Elise returned to the ladder and climbed down one last time, into the “basement” of the submarine.

  The glass room was more amazing than she’d imagined. The floor was wooden where the ladder ended. Not far from it, an ornate wheel, similar to the one steering the Gearhound, was placed in the floor and covered with glass, beautifully decorating the otherwise empty space. Elise took several steps forward, to the edge of the wooden floor. For the rest of the level the entire place—floor, walls, ceiling—was constructed of glass and a spiderweb iron framework.

  Two gas lamps hung, suspended from the ceiling, on either side of her. They gave little illumination, but Elise was glad they weren’t turned up any brighter. In the dimness, the glass seemed to melt into the dark water. It was as though they sailed through the ocean in a bubble instead of a submarine.

  Elise stepped out, her slippers silent against the glass. A ghost of her own reflection followed her out to the front of the submarine. The darkness appeared to extend forever, one enormous expanse. Only the slender threads of reflecting light bouncing off the web of iron showed where the submarine ended and the ocean began. Elise rested a hand against the glass.

  It was cold. The chill of it seeped through her fingertips and into her hand, refreshing, like the first nip of autumn. The pressure in her chest lifted and she could breathe once more. Seeing the massive expanse of water all around her helped her to feel less caged in.

  “I must admit I expected to find you down here sooner or later. But I didn’t expect it to be within twenty-four hours of shoving off.”

  Elise turned to find Captain Hopkins standing, hands behind his back, near the base of the ladder. Embarrassment snaked up her neck; what must he think of her, sneaking around the submarine in the middle of the night? “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t meant to intrude. I only wondered . . . ”

  He raised a hand and shook his head as he walked over to stand by her.

  Though she’d secretly admired his captain’s uniform earlier that day, she now had the opportunity to assess it fully. He was dressed much like a navy captain. The long-tailed jacket with two rows of buttons and thick cuffs. Though his cuffs were a deep blue instead of the vibrant red she’d seen on navy officers. His boots were buckled all the way up his calf to his knees.

  Atop his head sat a formidable bicorn hat. He looked every inch the captain of an imposing submarine.

  What it would be like to have someone like Captain Hopkins pay h
er special attention? While she attended the University, she’d boarded with three other women. They’d spent their time equally divided between their studies, the local shops, and trying to catch the eye of any number of men. Elise had not participated in the last two activities, so she couldn’t say for sure what it felt like for a man to look at her in a particular way.

  “The ocean is impressive from this vantage point.” Elise said, wishing to fill the air between them with something. So long as it didn’t reveal the ramblings of her brainbox. What was with her tonight? First feeling claustrophobic and now turning mawkish? The stress of the past few weeks must be catching up to her.

  Yes, Captain Hopkins was a fine gentleman and quite dashing. But she was in the middle of the most important experiment of her career. She didn’t have time to worry about what he thought of her.

  She wasn’t going to worry about what he thought of her.

  There. She was determined.

  She would think of it no more. They’d be comfortable, indifferent acquaintances. Two individuals, both working to make the experiment a success. Once they returned to England, they could shake hands and part on friendly terms.

  Once she returned to England she’d have the sun to help delineate day and night. She’d never fully appreciated the golden orb that hung in earth’s sky before now. Elise wasn’t even sure if it was barely nightfall, or well past midnight. “This may sound ridiculous, but could you tell me the time?”

  “The time?”

  Her gaze dropped for only a moment before coming back up to meet his. “In my excitement over you accepting this venture, I forgot to pack my broach watch. I’ve been having a hard time keeping track of . . . well, keeping track of the time.”

  He nodded his understanding. “And I am sure for a scientist such as yourself, not knowing the time must be disconcerting.”

  It certainly was. How was she supposed to keep meticulous notes if she never knew the time?

  Nathaniel pulled out a pocket watch and disconnected the golden chain from his breeches. “Take this one.”

  “I can’t take your watch. How will you know what time it is? And I’m beginning to understand just how valuable such knowledge is when you’re so far under the surface.”

  “You’re absolutely right. Having a watch while sailing through the ocean is imperative.” He took her hand, turned it palm up, and placed the watch in her palm. “Which is why I always bring a spare in case this one breaks.”

  “I am sure for a captain such as yourself, being prepared for every eventuality is imperative.”

  “For only having known one another for little more than a week, it would seem we understand one another quite well.” Her hand still rested in his and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Take this one for now.”

  She hesitated, but not for long, closing her fingers around the watch. “So long as you promise to let me know if your spare meets an untimely demise, so I can return this one to you.”

  “Most assuredly.”

  Elise pulled the watch toward her, opened the face, and noted the time. Gracious, she rarely stayed up so late, always being one who preferred to rise early. “If you will be so good as to tell me what time you normally escape to this room, I will be sure to leave you to your peace in the future.”

  “The observation room is my favorite place on all of the Gearhound.” Captain Hopkin’s voice held no casual unaffectedness. “But you are more than welcome here any time you find yourself in need of some peace as well.”

  He was wholly sincere, more so than Elise found most men to be. She liked that about him. Captain Hopkins it seemed was not overly concerned with being seen as one type of man or another, he was comfortable to just be. And if ever there was a time she needed some peace, it was now. Perhaps she wouldn’t be seen as being too impertinent if she stayed just a moment or two longer.

  “Did your day go well?” That sounded overly stiff—if she wanted to be as easy and comfortable as the captain she probably shouldn’t have started a conversation with such a ‘polite’ question. “I mean,” she tried to amend. “Did the shove off go well. I know you’re down many a crewmember.”

  “As well as can be expected.” He turned and looked out the massive window, and Elise did as well. “Mother seemed torn over being upset at my leaving her again and being relieved at having a break from Melissa’s antics. Then, there are always so many things to check when one first leaves port. Drills and tests must be made to ensure everyone stays safe. I will admit, the first week at sea is usually my least favorite. But give it a few days and all will settle down. Then I’ll have more time for this,” he waved toward the glass window and open sea.

  It was little wonder he loved the ocean. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He looked out at the inky water with contented joy etched clearly across his features. Perhaps she was encroaching on his reverie. If this was his place of reprieve, then he probably would not wish for her to intrude. Perhaps she should go. Elise opened her mouth to ask if he’d rather she leave. At that moment, a large fish darted out of the dark, angled directly at her. With a small shriek, Elise took two steps back. The fish jerked upward at the last moment, and disappeared again into the murky water.

  Nathaniel laughed softly, though the sound was kind. He didn’t seem to be laughing at her.

  Elise’s startled heart slowed once more. Gracious, she wasn’t blushing was she? Nothing was worse than being caught in an unexpected situation. Her brothers would have teased her for months had they seen her startle so.

  “That’s part of what I love about the ocean,” Nathaniel said. “You never know what may be swimming directly beside you.”

  His tone was comfortable. It just may be that his esteem hadn’t been lessened after all. What a relief that would be. So few people ever respected her research and chosen career the way Captain Hopkins did; she’d hate to lose that over a large fish. “I’ve read of dolphins chasing ships and submarines.”

  “I think they like the idea of something that can fly through the water as fast as they do—it’s like a race for them.” His smile came easily, so different than most officers she’d met in the past.

  “Did you start in the navy?”

  He nodded. “That is where I got my start. But I left almost nine years ago. Truth be told, I’ve never looked back. I bought the Gearhound about seven years ago and since then I’ve seen most the globe. I’ve transported spices from India, jade from China, and chocolate from South America.”

  What would it be like to have seen so much of the world? Though she wasn’t at all confident she’d like all the months spent inside a bronze cave. “Out of all you’ve seen, what has been your favorite?”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “The people.”

  She listed her head, unsure of what he meant. “The people from where?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I believe people everywhere are essentially the same. We may dress different, speak different languages, eat different food, but at our core all people are the same. We all want our children to be safe and happy, we all want to work hard and feel pride in what we do. We all love and cry and worry and find reasons to celebrate.” As he grew animated, his hands began moving with his words. “People all over are very much the same. That’s what I love the most. The people.”

  Elise stared at him in wonder. She had never thought of people from other lands quite like that. When she traveled, which wasn’t often, she mostly saw a people who were different. Interesting, but different. How strange that he would explore the same sights but see people exactly like him.

  Then again, was not the mindset he purported exactly the one she used with her test subjects? “More people of your idiology would be a boon to my field. It’s absurd how many gothic misconceptions persist to this day.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as being bitten by a werewolf makes you a werewolf. If that were true, I’d be a werewolf thrice over.”

  He let out a low whistle. “That sounds painfu
l.”

  “This is not an easy field to research. Worst of all the misconceptions are those that, historically, have lead to unnecessary suffering. Such as when one King Richard, during the year 1690, believed a werewolf could be forced to shift and immediately killed by a silver-dipped arrow. Hundreds of his subjects were brutally shot in the leg solely to appease the king’s paranoia. Which was ridiculous, because though even a superficial wound contaminated with silver would kill a werewolf, it only works if he is in wolf form.

  “And the misconceptions only go on after that. Drinking from a particular stream—eating a white flower during the full moon—a person’s parentage. You would think historians would have pieced together sooner that one’s genealogy has nothing to do with becoming a werewolf. There’s not a single shred of proof that a werewolf has ever fathered anyone, werewolf or otherwise.” She could not begin to list the never-ending supply of groundless beliefs.

  “Have you the one-track-mind everyone claims you do, then?” Again, his voice was not condescending, nor did she get the impression he judged her.

  Elise smiled softly. Why had she delved into such a lengthy explanation? It wasn’t her usual way. “I apologize for blathering on so. I care about what I’m doing. There will, no doubt, be many things I miss out on in life because I am so completely focused on my work. But,” and this was the part no one seemed to understand—however if anyone could see what she meant, Elise was beginning to think it would be the captain. “I think I’d rather die, someday, knowing I’d made a difference in the world and that other people lived better lives because of me, than die knowing I’d met a load of people and had more tea and cakes than were good for me.”