by Annie Seaton
A little old man sat at a square table inside an inner circle, his head in his hands. Scattered tufts of gray hair covered a balding pink scalp. Indigo knelt beside him, placing her hands on his slight shoulders. “Tell me what happened, Mr. Grimoult?”
The little man turned away from her, shaking his head. “They’re all gone, Madame. The crew, the captain... and I regret to say...the shipment.”
“What about the Artemis? Where is my vessel?” Dread overcame her as she considered the possibility of losing everything.
“It is intact. We loaded the cargo and started back. I went to the underskin for a quick nap,” he replied. “I do not know how long I slept because all of the chronometers have stopped working. When I woke, I could not hear the pump jets working, nor feel the hydrodynamic drag. I ran up to the control room and they were all gone. Each and every man.”
Reaching up, she gently removed his hand from his hair as his gnarled hands pulled at the few remaining tufts. “It was not of your doing, so do not distress yourself unduly.”
“Madame, I know how critical this shipment is.” He shook his head.
“That is true.” Indigo stood and began to pace the room. “How did you get back to the pier with no crew to assist you with navigation?”
“That is the strange thing, Madame.” A lock of hair fell across his forehead as his head moved slowly from side to side. “The Artemis was back at the pier and the escape hatch was open when I awoke. I disembarked and came straight back to the manor.”
Indigo turned and looked at the captain, who had followed the exchange with interest. “And coincidentally, a new captain materializes on my doorstep this very evening,” she said in a cynical tone.
Mr. Grimoult looked up. The distress left his face immediately and his mouth widened in a broad grin. Indigo watched with amazement when the little man jumped to his feet and caught the captain in a tight hug, reaching up and thumping the stranger’s back.
“Zane! Zane Thoreau!”
The captain looked at Indigo as she stared at the tableau in front of her, her disbelief overwhelming her.
“What exactly is happening here?” she asked suspiciously. “Captain Dogooder?”
“Purely a nickname, Madame,” the captain said with a smile.
“Right.” Indigo stepped back and looked at the two men grinning at each other and decided it was time to take hold of this situation which was rapidly getting out of her control. “It is time for some serious talk.” Standing next to the large table in the centre of the circle, she looked at Zane, pointing to a chair. “You, sit there.” She turned to the housekeeper who had now recovered her equilibrium. “Mrs. Grimoult, some refreshments, please.” The housekeeper lowered her eyes and stepped from the room.
“Mr. Grimoult, do you need some time to compose yourself or are you able to join us now?” Indigo continued in a tight voice.
“I am fully recovered, Madame.”
“Good.” Indigo frowned as she noticed the captain’s interest in the traveling attire of the older man. Denim jeans covered his legs, the faded blue fabric topped with a soft uncollared shirt, the short sleeves barely covering his small biceps. Mr. Grimoult noticed her disapproval and his face colored.
“I didn’t think to change back, Madame. I returned with haste. I did not expect we would have company.”
“Not quite company,” Indigo said shortly. “No matter. We have more important things at hand.” Indigo waved a dismissive hand as the perambulator door slid open once more. Mrs. Grimoult stepped out with a silver tray holding a plate of Turkish delight, a large jug of mulled wine and three goblets, and then walked across with her head lowered before placing the tray on the table.
Indigo stood quietly for a moment as the captain examined their surroundings. A considerable sum spent during a recent voyage to visit Sofia in Paris had equipped her sanctum with the most modern technological devices. In the center of the inner circle, two analytical engines with large black glass rectangles covered with brass knobs sat side by side. A tray with the letters of the alphabet inscribed in a peculiar mix of buttons sat on the table in front of each engine. A periscope head hung from each side and an ornate timepiece, comprised of coils of copper wire and brass screws, with a small light bulb on each side, sat next to each of the alphabet rectangles.
Indigo observed the captain as he moved around the room, examining the equipment. His fingers played with the alphabet tray and he took a hurried step backward when a picture of a submarine with a fish shaped prow appeared in a series of colored lights on the black glass. She let him explore for a few moments, and then tapped her fingers on the table impatiently.
“Sit down, Captain, we don’t have much time.” Looking across at Mrs. Grimoult, a silent message passed between the two women. Mrs. Grimoult nodded and entered the perambulator; the door slid shut and the machine descended noisily. Indigo sat at the head of the table and then looked pointedly at the captain as Mr. Grimoult poured the wine into the elaborate goblets. “All right, Mr. Thoreau, Zane or Captain Dogooder or whoever you may be, you can start with your explanation. Why are you here and what do you want with me?”
She regretted her words as soon as they left her lips, unsure if it was his proximity or the level of her worry causing her heart to pound erratically. Her breathing quickened as she awaited his reply. Attempting to meet his eye, Indigo noted the captain’s gaze fixed on the top of her bustier, and folded her arms across her cleavage when he replied.
“I received an urgent missive from Edward, your captain. He advised you were in need of immediate assistance with your next shipment and that you required a master for the Artemis. I have no idea of your cargo, or your destination, however I would trust Edward with my life. I am available immediately, as my vessel is currently under repair.”
Mr. Grimoult interrupted. “Madame, if I may speak? Zane is trustworthy. We were in the merchant navy together. His nickname is well deserved.” He turned to the captain, smiling. “I would trust Captain Dogooder with my life.”
“And I am here simply to offer my services,” he said, but Indigo felt his smile was a little too innocent. She was slow to trust; the death of her father in the Amazon had left her wary of ever trusting readily again. She sat staring the captain as her mind worked furiously. All would be lost without one more voyage. It would be necessary to trust him and Mr. Grimoult seemed certain of the man’s worth.
Rising slowly from her chair, she moved around the table, turning her back to him. “Unlace me.”
The captain sat without moving, his face expressionless.
“Go ahead, lad. Do as Madame says,” said Mr. Grimoult.
Zane rose, pushing the chair aside. He paused, fingers brushing against the ribbon lacing at the back of her bustier. Indigo raised one shoulder, waiting for him to undo the ruby colored lace at the edge of the garment.
“Hurry up.” She encouraged him, but her tone was waspish “We don’t have all night.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he undid the top lace, loosening the rest of the ribbon in the brass eyelets. Strong, calloused fingers lingered on her skin and she struggled to keep her composure as warm hands brushed against her bare shoulders. Indigo reached around, pulling the garment down, exposing her back. She heard a quick intake of breath as her tattoo was revealed and the captain realized it was identical to his.
“Can you now see why I will trust my life and my livelihood with you on such a short acquaintance? We are connected,” she said. “Now, lace me back up.” His fingers trembled against her shoulder, pulling the laces tight, and finishing with a clumsy bow.
“That will do,” she said quietly turning back to face him. “Now, sit back down. We have a long night ahead.”
As Indigo saw the question in his eyes, her face broke into a sultry smile.
“Not the sort of night that you anticipate, sir.” She leaned back in her chair. “That may come later if you are good and do as you are told.”
In the early hours
, Mr. Grimoult stifled a yawn and his head dropped until he snored quietly into his chest. The captain remained alert as Indigo described her biome tourist enterprise and the smuggling of exotic plants in her steam-powered submarine. Her wealthy clientele, escaping the bitter English winters, holidayed in warm luxurious environments in one of three huge biomes simulating a variety of temperate climates. The biomes were accessible from the longest pier in Cornwall via a steam-powered funicular railway that traversed the steep cliff. The entertainment biome catered to the wealthier members of society and a procession of clowns, minstrels and variety bands provided entertainment for the patrons and their children. A skating rink, miniature zoo and theatre completed the entertainment biome. A simulated beach enabled sea bathing holidays in the coldest months and provided a therapeutic option for the rich clientele in the beach biome. Water was pumped in from the ocean, and warmed through a series of steam rooms.
Discussion turned to the voyage ahead, and planning a mission without her usual, experienced crew.
“The Artemis is fitted with a greenhouse and a steam generator pumps ocean water, which maintains the tropical temperature during the expeditions. It enables us to keep the plants alive. Mr. Grimoult has invented a light reproduction device,” Indigo explained.
Seeing the disbelief on the captain’s face, Indigo nudged Mr. Grimoult awake with her elbow.
“Mr. Grimoult...Mr. Grimoult? Would you please tell the captain about your light device?” The old man raised his head slowly and caught up with the conversation. He rubbed a hand over his weary, lined face.
“Yes, Captain. Madame speaks the truth. I use luminiferous aether, sprayed onto the back of brass tubing. When the submarine is submerged, the aether is released in small doses and keeps the plants alive.”
“The plants are purely for the pleasure of the guests at the complex,” Indigo emphasized. “The opportunity to exhibit at the Great Exhibition in May will source more financial backing and facilitate an expansion of our enterprise.” Indigo paused, tapping her fingers angrily on the table. “I am sure Duke Lorca is behind the disappearance of my crew.”
She explained that the duke, who lived in a towering castle overlooking the next cove, had offered her financial backing. “I am unsure of the reasoning behind the offer. I believe that he may have some knowledge of the plants that I have been cultivating.” She looked down at the table, shuffling her papers, without meeting the captain’s eye. He did not need to be privy to her whole business. “He believes a union between us will be an easy way to reverse the losses he has incurred recently. Lorca even tried wooing me and became most despondent when I rejected his proposal of marriage last week.” She laughed at the memory of the duke stomping to his dirigible in high dudgeon, after she had not only rejected him but also thrown him out of her manor. Indigo expected to hear more from Leopold, as she doubted he would let a woman get the better of him. A ridiculous appearance camouflaged a cunning mind.
Gathering the maps together she said, “Captain, you are a man of few words.”
The captain drained the last few drops from his goblet and looked across at her. “Madame, you are a woman of much confidence.”
Reaching over, Indigo ran her fingers along the tattoo on his arm. The muscles tensed beneath her fingers as sudden warmth singed her skin and she snatched her hand back quickly. Taking a deep breath, she fought to regain her composure, looking into the dark eyes across the table.
“Zane, it is essential that I can trust you to take charge of the Artemis. We must complete one more voyage if we are to have enough botanicals for our quest. We have only until the end of the month to complete our prototype for the exhibition.”
“Quest?” His brow wrinkled above those midnight eyes. “That is a peculiar term, Madame.”
She stumbled over her reply. “I mean our quest to get the prototype ready in time. The Amazon voyage is essential.”
“The Amazon? I am more than happy to pilot the Artemis, however a South American voyage will take seven weeks to complete. I believe you have a month until the prototype is due?”
Indigo allowed a secretive smile to spread across her face as she rested her chin in her hand. She turned to Mr. Grimoult, almost asleep in his chair. “Captain Dogooder is obviously not a mariner of your ilk, Mr. Grimoult. You will have to teach him a thing or two.”
Mr. Grimoult nodded at Indigo.
“Madame, I beg to differ,” the captain corrected her, his voice polite. “I have completed a voyage to the Amazon. As an experienced mariner, I know the time a safe journey takes.”
She reached over, stroking his arm soothingly. For some reason her skin craved contact with his. “Don’t worry, Captain. I am in charge. All you have to do is navigate.”
Indigo stood, reaching around to adjust her loose corset, revealing considerably more breast than before her laces were undone.
“We must rest. There is not much left of the night and there is still much to do. We shall discuss your remuneration tomorrow, Captain. Mrs. Grimoult has prepared a guest room. Follow me.”
The captain stepped outside and paused before entering the directional perambulator. Crossing her arms, Indigo laughed as he hesitated.
“Nervous, Captain?” She offered her hand to him. “How can I possibly trust you under the Atlantic with my submarine?”
Ignoring her outstretched hand, the Captain entered the contraption. Indigo leaned against the wall observing him. Eyes met and held as the doors clanged shut and the perambulator dropped quickly. The unaccustomed butterflies in her stomach were caused by the sudden descent, not the attraction she felt for the brooding stranger.
That was all that was causing this heady feeling.
As the perambulator descended, his gaze left hers to travel slowly from her bare shoulders, over the laced corset and down to her high boots. The door opened as the perambulator reached the lower level of the manor. Indigo walked ahead of him down the corridor, deliberately swaying her hips. Pausing at the last door, she turned an ornate knob, entering through the back of a guest room, and ushered the captain past her.
“You should find all you need here. We will speak again in the morning.”
Indigo turned to leave, but a warm hand descended on her bare shoulder.
“Not so fast, my beauty,” said the captain. He pushed her gently back against the velvet-lined wall and strands of her hair caught on the soft nap. Eyes narrowing, she stiffened as firm thighs pressed her legs back against the wall. Strong callused fingers slid down her bare arms and the captain trapped both of her hands in one of his, raising them high above her head. His moist lips trailed up her neck until his soft breath warmed her lips.
“I sense there is much that has been left unsaid tonight. We will explore that in due course. But first tell me the significance of our identical tattoos.” He spoke against her mouth. The vibration of his words on her lips sent delicious shivers shooting downward to the juncture between her thighs. She leaned away from him, tossing her head and black curls surrounded him. Indigo freed her arms, linked her fingers behind his head and snared his legs in the folds of her skirt. His grip loosened as she moved her mouth back toward his. Their eyes locked, and she moistened her lips in a slow and sensuous movement. She moved in closer and the captain’s eyes darkened with anticipation.
Indigo bit him sharply on the lip as she brought her knee up hard to his groin. Pushing him away, she spoke coldly. “You will learn your place in the scheme of things. Do not ever touch me without invitation. And do not ask questions about things best left unsaid.”
Before the door slammed behind her, she watched as he rubbed at his mouth, wiping a small drop of blood off his lip.
INDIGO RETURNED TO the viewing room alone and sat staring into the darkness until the black sea lightened to a dull gray and the first rays of dawn light crept in from the east. She had not returned to the Amazon for thirteen years, and she pondered on all the Fates had thrown at her with the disappearance of her crew and the
arrival of Captain Dogooder, a man to whom she was instantly attracted.
Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled her father’s excitement when he left for the final leg of that fateful trip. The passionflower and its pharmaceutical properties and the moonflower and its potential for extending human life had formed the basis of a lifetime of research for him. He had left Indigo alone in Ilo and travelled not only into the Amazon, but two centuries into the future to find the source of the passionflower. He had found a wild plantation at the headwaters of the Amazon, and had also discovered that the healing properties of his beloved passionflower had increased tenfold over the intervening two hundred years.
Upset at her father’s refusal to take her on his trip to the future, Indigo had spent the day in a tattoo parlor, ensuring the importance of the passionflower to her would be inscribed permanently for her father to see on his return. She clearly recalled a young drunken sailor with a Cornish lilt to his slurred voice. He had lain beside her in the tattoo parlor on that last fateful trip. She had ignored him, and he had been so drunk, he had paid no attention to the young girl next to him.
Unfortunately, the Fates decreed her father never see the magnificent passionflower tattoo on his eldest daughter’s shoulder. Bandits had waylaid the group as they returned from the expedition. Professor de Vargas had been buried in the Amazon jungle in 2008, one hundred and seventy years into the future, leaving Indigo, and her stepsister Sofia, fatherless.
“Madame?”
Indigo jumped when Mr. Grimoult appeared at her side. She hadn’t heard the ascent of the perambulator.
“Have you had any sleep?”
“Just thinking,” she replied. “I have been thinking of my father and how proud he would have been of our progress.”
“It was most fortunate we retrieved his notes from that final expedition, Madame.”