Chapter 3

The morning sky was steel grey and millions of tiny flakes of snow drifted down from the heavens obscuring the horizon and covering the ground with a thin layer of white. For the first time since the wreck you got a good night sleep and wake feeling refreshed. The smell of fresh cooking wafts up through the floorboards and into your rooms

After cleaning up in a wash basin filled with cold water and getting dressed you head downstairs. Buford and Helen are in the dining room eating breakfast, Mariette and Ruby are in the sitting room taking advantage of the more comfortable chairs. Mariette winces as she slowly turns to look at you, Ruby smiles and gets to her feet.

Buford nods pointing at the two hard wooden chairs at the table, his hair is neat and his beard is trimmed and untangled for the first time since you've met him, he looks civilized, less like an angry bear. Helen smiles and waves at you.

Miss Bessy comes over with a pair of plates of food, bacon, eggs, sausages, pan fried potatoes and biscuits handing one plate to each of you.

"Figure we'll head down to the station after breakfast, see what the train schedule looks like and send out that telegram," Buford rumbles before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Ruby wants to go to the general store and I think a quick shopping trip might be in order," Helen says kicking the carpet bag full of money. "I only have the one set of clothes and anything else would be an improvement I think plus we have no supplies at all."

"Or spare ammunition and these Colt's while they are fine pistols they do not do well in the rain."

The meal doesn’t take that long and you all trudge off towards the centre of town, there’s a good inch of fresh powder on the ground and a northern wind blows it into swirling eddies as it rounds the corners of buildings.

Helen and Buford head into the General Store.

Inside the telegraph office the same girl from the night before is in her bright red hair is in braided pigtails and she’s wearing a telegraph office uniform, blue with brass buttons.

"Morning!" She says with a chipper smile on her face. She glances at Nathaniel and then at Napoleon. "I received a couple messages over night for you sir." She reaches into her desk and produces two yellow slips of paper with blue text.

"How may I be of service to you this morning?" She asks Nathaniel.

A large man with a bushy mustache in a railway uniform comes in from the platform and tosses another lump of coal into the pot belly stove in the corner.

The girl behind the counter takes the message reads it then nods at Nathaniel, "Right away sir."

She sits behind her desk and quickly taps out the message on the her telegraph machine, waits a few moments and there line buzzes indicating message received.

"All done sir," she hands the piece of paper with the note back to Nathaniel, "Ought to be delivered within the hour."

Napoleon looks at his Telegrams.

Napoleon isn't certain of the date, not without looking things up in a paper, but he recalls that at around this time there were a series of bombings targeting the government of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. One of the princesses and a handful of her inner circle were killed and the crown prince was maimed horribly in an attack that brought down a large piece of an Imperial Palace in Prague.

"Train to San Francisco?" The man with the bushy mustache in the railway uniform at the far end of the building perks up. "Told them this last night we had mail but no passengers for them. Bosses will be happy to know they won't be dead heading out to Kingman and back for a handful of letters."

"Schedule's a little messed up," the girl at the telegraph office adds, "train's going to show at 10 but it won't depart back the way it came till 6pm."

"Schedule, ain't messed up Ellie," the man says, "the fact that we're the end of the line for the next couple weeks is what's messed up."

"Sadly," the Telegraph operator says with a grin, "there is not."

Outside it’s beginning to warm up, the snow on the ground is turning into a slushy mud. It’s still slowing and the flakes are now enormous but you figure it’s only a matter of time before it turns to rain.

Across from the train station you can see in through the window of the General Store, Buford and Miss Kolvalsic are in there with Ruby talking to the shop keep.

While the general store has a fair amount of fabric they don't have a great many articles of clothing to chose from. Helen Kovalsic emerges from the back dressed in a pair of denim pants and a very unflattering man's jacket, she judges herself in the mirror for a moment and frowns.

"I recall somebody saying something about beggars and choosers Helen," Buford says with a smile, "cut your hair and you just might pass as a real cow hand."

"While it is undeniably more comfortable than 4 layers of petticoats and a corset it is not what I expected to walk out of here wearing."

Ruby smiles, "I can bring in the waist and adjust the fit if you'd like."

"The buttons are backwards," Helen frowns.

"That I can not fix."

Napoleon and Nathaniel notice that Ruby has a small basket of supplies, bits of cloth, a sewing kit, some biscuits and canned food.

Helen reaches into the carpet bag and pulls out a small roll of bills handing one to Napoleon and one to Nathaniel. "We lost pretty much everything in the crash," she says, "here's some money for each of you to get yourselves on your feet."

Counting the money quickly the both find that they have 75$.

"I myself have one dress that looks like I rolled down a mountain to my name," Helen states, "everything else I own is in New York and it's really not helping me much there."

Ruby smiles, "I only have the one dress too, but then I've only ever had the one dress."

"When we get to San Francisco we'll get you a couple more," Helen grins.

"When's the train leave?" Buford asks sticking bullets from a box into the loops on his gun belt. The shop keeper is showing him a bandolier with a number of pouches for rifle rounds.

By about 3pm the train to San Francisco has arrived, it pulls into the stating chugging and bleaching steam and smoke everywhere. A sizable number of workers are aboard the train, it makes a quick stop before heading up towards the wreck. By 5pm the train returns backing down the track, there's a turn around siding it uses just before Kingman and by 5:30 the train has taken on water and coal and is sitting in the station quietly chuffing and venting steam. It appears as though you will be the only passengers aboard the train for the return trip.

The young woman in the telegraph office hands out return telegrams to Miss. Kovalsic and Miss. DeNimes. Buford stands by her counter scribbling something down on a piece of paper and handing it to her before smiling and winking.

Helen reads her telegram, frowns and sits on a bench next to the platform door, Ruby is sitting between her and Mariette working on some repair stitching, Mariette's eyes are closed and she looks as if she might doze off at any moment.

There's a clatter from the telegraph office and the girl begins to scribble a message down.

A skinny old fellow with a glorious handlebar mustache and perfectly maintained sides burns opens the door to the station. "All Aboard!" He calls, "Needles, Barstow, Bakerfield, Fresno, San Jose and San Francisco."

"That sounds like us," Helen remarks fanning the pages of her notebook to dry the ink before closing it and tucking it away.

Ruby stands and helps Mariette to her feet, "Come along Miss, we'll get you on a nice sofa so you can be more comfortable."

"Merci."

The telegraph girl runs over to Nathaniel and hands him a piece of paper just before he's about to depart.

You all head back to the first class cabin, there is literally no one other than yourselves or the crew aboard.

"My publicist is of the opinion that chasing anarchists in Zeppelins is a job best left to the men folk," Helen replies irritably.

Mariette glances over at Helen, " Cet homme est un imbécile."

Ruby nods.

Buford sits down in a high back leather chair near the bar and looks around, "So this is how the other half travels?" He nods appreciatively, "A feller could get used fo this."

"Men," Helen says with a harumph, "they can be exceedingly difficult."

Buford chortles and places a glass of whiskey in front of her, "This oughta take the edge off Miss. Kovlasic."

Helen nods, "Thank you Buford."

There's a long whistle from the engine followed by a clunk and a shudder as the train begins to pull out of the station.

Buford pours himself a glass and places the bottle back behind the clockwork bartender.

"How long is this trip?" Mariette asks from the divan she's sitting on.

"We shan't be in till at least noon tomorrow Mademoiselle." Ruby replies.

Mariette groans and gestures towards the clockwork, "Would you be so kind as to see if that contraption has any wine?"

The clockwork blinks and clicks for a moment before a reedy voice replies, "Red or white ma'am?"

"If you tell me you have a Burgundy red I will be forever in your debit."

The automaton clicks and whirs for a moment before pouring a glass of red wine from a black bottle, Ruby gets up and fetches it quickly.

"Merci."

There's a tap at the door and a lanky young man with dark hair dressed in a railway uniform enters the first class coach. "Gentlemen, Ladies. My name is Francis. I shall be your steward for the evening, if there is anything I can do to make your journey more comfortable please do not hesitate to let me know. Dinner will be served in about an hour if that is convenient."

You've heard about clockwork bartenders before, you've never seen one. You've all seen clockworks before, most of them are vanity projects of the rich and famous. Tweeting birds, clockwork cats and dogs that manner of thing, this one seems particularly complicated because it appears to understand simple verbal commands.

Nathaniel recockons there must be a difference engine somewhere in the car, the reedy voice is clearly produced by a number of pipes contained in the wall behind the bar. Almost like a sophisticated pipe organ.

A while later Francis, the steward, returns with menus for each of you. The fair while limited is vastly more impressive than what you could have obtained in the second and third class cars. They're offering roast bison, quail, rabbit, two types of soup and even ice cream for dessert to be followed by cigars and sherry.

Buford blinks at the menu after Francis has departed to fetch drinks, "Is this normal for ya'll?"

"Non," Mariette says with a smile, "but we will survive I suppose."

Ruby giggles, "I've never had someone bring me dinner before," she looks around at everyone somewhat aghast, "are you certain this is alright? It seems most improper."

"Ruby," Helen says swirling her whiskey, "are you not a paying passenger?"

Ruby nods, "Yes ma'am."

"Then might I suggest we owe it to ourselves to experience how the other half lives just this once?"

Experimenting with the machine Nathaniel determines pretty quickly that it's probably not as smart as his dog back home. It seems to know a fair amount about alcohol but nothing else. The the alcohol it does understand is very American in nature, exotic drinks are clearly not on the menu and anything that requires more than one or two types of alcohol is definitely beyond its abilities.

It is impressive to him nonetheless. Its ability to listen for orders is something he hadn't considered before, clearly it is always listening and the pipe organ speech is equally astonishing.

Helen nods at Napoleon as Ruby orders for herself.

"Be careful cherie," Mariette warns her, "to much rich food can make you sick if your stomach is not ready for it."

Ruby nods, "Am I ordering to much? I've never ordered anything before."

"Yer doin' just fine missie," Buford grumbles, "you order what you want and if it's to much we'll know better for next time."

Francis bows after taking everyone's order and heads back through the door at the front of the car.

Buford reaches into his carpet bag and pulls out a cardboard box full of revolver cartridges and puts them on the mahogany table in front of him.

"What are you doing Buford?" Helen asks.

"I ain't showing up in San Francisco unprepared and if anyone else tries to rob this train they're going to be in for a bit of a surprise."

"You ever shot a firearm Miss Helen? Ruby? Mademoiselle d'Nimes?" Buford asks laying a Colt Peacemaker on the table.

Helen looks at the weapon and shakes her head.

Ruby makes a face, "Goodness no."

Mariette nods, "Oui."

Ruby looks at Mariette aghast.

"There was a revolution in France, I did what had to be done to survive."

Dinner is served soon after the order is taken and it consists of several courses of delicious fair, to be honest it's more food and far richer than anything you'd expected. You'd heard that the other half lives well, you had no idea just how well until tonight.

Once the meal is complete Francis comes back with a small wooden box filled with Havana cigars, and a bottle of whiskey. The ladies ponder retiring to the car immediately in front of the lounge car thus leaving the men to their own devices but Buford will have none of it and Miss Helen is inclined to agree.

Buford sit' back on the sofa and props his foot up on the table with an audible clunk that makes Francis wince prior to departing.

"Buford," Helen says with a frown, "get your boot off the mahogany."

He chuckles and puts his foot back down on the carpeted floor. "So," he says looking at Napoleon and Nathaniel, "what's your stories?"

Buford points to himself, "Veteran of Appomattox and Antietam, bounty hunter."

Helen smiles, "Reporter, I was supposed to be doing a story about travelling around the world in 80 days like Jules Verne's book but that snake Nellie Bly caught wind of what I was up to and departed two weeks before my funding could come through."

Ruby looks about nervously, "I'm just a maid servant."

Mariette smiles sadly, "I was travelling to San Francisco with my sister and a friend of ours, although I did not see him after the wreck so I presume he is no more. We have friends there we were to stay with before travelling across the Pacific."

The train travels on into the night and eventually, one by one the group all turn in to their private sleeper compartments in the next car forward. The night passes uneventfully and in the morning they're awakened as the train comes to a halt to take on water just before dawn.

Glancing out the windows you see that all around there are arid mountains, dry and brow but further up the slopes there is a smattering of green trees covered in light dusting of fresh snow. There's a noise outside in the hall as someone moves past and towards the lounge car at the back of the train. The scent of fresh brewed coffee drifts in, clearly an American roast not quite as strong as Napoleon or Nathaniel are used to but it still smells inviting.

There's a thump and a bump from the cabin between them were Buford is staying followed by a grumbling sigh, "Mmmm... Coffee."

The person in the hall moves forward again and a door opens in the hall, "Francis? That's yer name right?" Buford asks.

"Yes sir."

"Where we at son?"

"In the pass before Bakersfield sir, it's just a whistle stop in the middle of nowhere really. We'll be here for about an hour taking on water and coal."

"Alrighty then, thank you."

"Anytime sir."

There's some shuffling and moving about and a minute or so later Buford starts pounding on some doors further up the train car. "Come on ladies, times as good as any to teach you how to shoot."

Nathaniel explores the train, it is laid out a lot like the last one, not that he ever saw the last 3 cars of the last one but. Engine, tender, mail car, two second class cars, a dining car, first class sleeper with a small "ladies lounge" to the rear and finally a first class lounge car at the very back. He can't get further forward in the train than the mail car, it's locked. There are fewer than a dozen passengers in the second class cars. They must have boarded at stops that occurred in the middle of the night.

Napoleon spreads out the documents again and goes through them one at a time. He spots nothing that he hasn't seen before, in fact he feels to be going a little cross eyed by the time the train is ready to carry on.

While this is going on Buford takes the ladies out the the back deck of the lounge car, sets up some empty targets for them to shoot at and lets them practice with a variety of pistols for almost three quarters of an hour. To Napoleon's ear he's patient and skilled, he teaches them about breathing and aiming, squeezing the trigger and cocking the revolver prior to firing. He must have done this kind of thing before, he did say he was a soldier, maybe he trained new recruits.

Eventually the train starts moving again and heads down into Bakersfield. Here they observe a large aerodrome across from the train station, a large coal powered British liftwood ship is moored near the edge of the field. It's an iron clad gunboat of some kind, large black sponsons jut out from the main hull with large armored cannon mounts set into them.

Ruby smiles as she see's the gun boat, its Union Jack flying from the mast, an American flag flies from the other side of the mast.

Mariette frowns, there's a long enmity between the French and the British, it's hard to say if hers is a cultural dislike or a dislike of the warship itself.

Helen and Buford look at the armored gun boat in awe, this kind of thing is pretty much unheard of here, zeppelins yes but liftwood warships are exceedingly rare on Earth.

"What do you suppose it's doing here?" Helen asks staring at the craft as the train pulls into the station.

"Must be someone terribly important aboard," Ruby says. "tis not often that we see such a vessel even at home. M'lady has a friend, Lord Harrowgate, who owns a steam powered launch, it is quite the contraption."

The man at the train station looks over at Nathaniel, "That thing? It's the Dauntless, been here for better part of a week, they had some malfunction over the South Pacific, limped it to here before the driveshaft on the main propeller broke."

He shrugs and goes back to sweeping the platform, "Was supposed to arrive via train two days ago but that accident back near Ashfork kind of mucked that up."

Making their way to across the train yard the Aerodrome, perhaps it's an aetherdrome, Nathaniel and Napoleon get a little closer to the great flying machine. They can see a crane hanging off the side that appears to have recently hoisted a new propeller shaft into place. There's a large disassembled crate on the ground and a dozen or so British Marines on duty on the deck. There's a handful of crew on the ground and a number of local workers going about their business.

A young man, blonde hair and green eyes looks the two new comers up and down as they approach. He's dressed in engineer type coveralls, a dirty grey shirt, black boots and a broad brimmed hat, "Come to check out the Brit's fancy flyer huh? Pretty impressive, wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of those cannons."

The man points towards a fellow in a blue uniform with a large blonde handlebar mustache, "He's the one who's in charge of the ground crew." He looks Nathaniel up and down carefully, "Watch yourself though, he's got a bit of a temper."

Napoleon notes that the grass of the field under the vessel is flattened out and rustling, as though a breeze or a force is being pressed upon it. As they walk closer there's a definite down draft of air from beneath the vessel, not nearly enough to keep the iron clad aloft but there's definitely a force being exerted on the ground below it.

The man in the blue uniform with the blonde moustache notices their approach and quickly intercepts them before they can get to close. "That's close enough laddies, what's your business with the HMS Dauntless?" He's a stern no nonsense career military man by the look of him. Tall, muscular with piercing blue eyes and close cropped blonde hair held in place by some kind of hair cream.

The marine captain looks Nathaniel up and down carefully, "I honestly can't see the Kaiser's men doing something like this, but there's a lot of little nations inside those borders still arguing it out looking for some kind of advantage, some kind of leverage to use over their fellow countrymen."

Napoleon looks at the damaged drive shaft, it does not appear to have fallen victim to any kind of foul play but rather it looks like a structural failure. Like the shaft itself failed from within.

"Technically the Kaiser's men are on our side, allied against the Commune, but I wouldn't put it past them to stir something up. Politics and all that bloody rot." The officer thinks a moment, "What kind of weapon did they use to take out the train? Explosives under the tracks or something?"

Napoleon knows it was definitely not explosives at least nothing conventional if it was an explosive. The colored lightening racing down the train was something the likes of which he's never seen before. Nathaniel is pretty sure it wasn't either, but he's not 100%.

"It's not my airship," the man replies, "belongs to Her Royal Majesty and I'm just a Marine anyway."

He grins looking back up the the ship simply hanging in space a few dozen feet above their heads, "However, Captain Williams might be interested in your story."

He snaps his finger and a young man, barely able to grow hair on his chin runs up and a navy blue uniform, "Yessir!" The man says coming quickly to attention.

"Tell Captain Williams I have a couple lads on the ground here he might be interested in having a word with, Tell him it has something to do with the train and our lost drive shaft." The lad nods and rushes to the far side of the landing area and quickly scampers up a rope ladder.

A few minutes later there's a sudden changed in pressure where you're standing at the Dauntless begins to lower itself slowly towards the ground.

Nathaniel and Napoleon notices that the flat wooden planks that form the belly of the ship are slowly reconfiguring themselves, changing their angle and attitude towards the ground as the ship comes in for a landing. The massive keel stops barely a foot off the ground and a heavy iron door set into the keel opens up. An older man with grey black hair and thick sideburns steps out of the door and marches over to where you're standing.

The marine captain salutes him crisply, "Captain Williams."

"Captain McAdams."

"These lads claim to have been aboard the train with our drive shaft when it was attacked."

Captain Williams eyebrow goes up as he looks Nathaniel and Napoleon over carefully, "Oh they were were they?"

McAdams nods.

"Well then, what's your story lads?"

Nathaniel quickly repeats his story to Captain Williams.

"Interesting, do you have any thoughts on where it might be headed?" Captain Williams asks, "The sky, not unlike the ocean, is a rather large place to be looking."

Captain Williams nods, "We're not far from San Francisco, and it is along our general fight path. We could give you a ride, perhaps if you spot the airship we could inform the Americans." He turns to look at a young man standing just inside the hatch, "Tell Mr. Caruthers to make haste with his repairs, I want to be ready to depart within the hour."

"Aye sir," the young man replies disappearing back into the ships keel and up a latter into the superstructure.

"If you have any business to attend to lad, I'd be on with it." Captain William's says.

Captain McAdams of the Royal Marine Corps looks at the two of you with a smirk, "Best grab your luggage and be snappy about it lads."

The others gather their belongings and head in the direction of the air field and the armored British warship.

Mariette looks at the craft suspiciously where as Helen and Buford appear to be in awe of the ship. Ruby on the other hand has apparently seen ships like this before and barely bats and eyelid at it.

"What's the problem Madam D'Nimes?" Buford asks with a broad grin on his face.

Mariette glances at Buford, "It is Mademoiselle but, I am concerned. My government and the British government have been not on the best of terms for a few years." She sighs, "I am concerned about what they will think of my presence."

A concerned expression crosses Ruby's face as she looks at the ship, "British Navel ships are not known for welcoming female passengers with open arms."

"It's because in navel tradition women are considered bad luck," Helen replies, "I think your heritage is likely to be less of an issue than your gender."

The head of the Marines, Captain McAdams looks at your group as you cross the field, there's a concerned expression on his face.

"Was not expecting quite so many of you," He smiles at the ladies and shrugs. "Oh well, it's a short trip to San Francisco, I'll have a word with the lads, make sure they're on their best behavior. You lot are all British or Americans correct?"

Everyone nods and McAdams seems to take you all at face value, "Leave your bags here and I'll have Johnson escort you topside."

One of his marines nods and heads in through the hatch in the keel, he stands there offering everyone a head up inside the vessel and then proceeds to escort you up through the keel. "Mind your heads and try not to touch the pipes," the marine says as he leads you through an oval shaped opening made of black reinforced iron. Beyond the opening there's a narrow ladder that leads up to a small landing with two more oval doors on either side and another ladder proceed up to another landing above that.

There's a bit of a kerfuffle as the ladies figure out who's going up the ladder and in what order and why the men should both be above them to help them up and below them incase they fall and not below them so they can't look up their skirts.

Heading up the ladder you notice that the temperature increases steeply, the boiler must be somewhere close by, he indicates that everyone should head up to the second landing where there's an open door leading to a short hall and the open deck.

The deck is made of teak wood surrounded by more black riveted iron, immediately outside of the hatch there's a hotchkiss revolving cannon mounted on a large metal post. The rails are black and sturdy looking above your heads are the walking rails of a flying bridge with a spotlight a fitting for some manner of light mounted weapon, a Maxim gun you'd imagine.

Captain Williams greats you all from the flying bridge above. "Gentlemen, Ladies, welcome aboard the Dauntless. My chief engineer assures me that we can be underway within the hour." He looks further back the deck, "Millar! Please take our guests to the mess and see that they are fed." He looks back at your group, "Mess hall or upper decks only if you please."

About forty minutes and several mugs of tea later there's a lurch and you feel your stomachs drop as a whistle sounds and the ironclad's steam engine kicks in.

"We're lifting off," Ruby says with a grin.

Buford stands up, "Wouldn't mind seeing this," he nods towards the door to the deck. Helen gets up and follows him and Mariette stands as well.

The large man turns the wheel to the door and you all step out onto a sun lit teak deck slowly rising up above the zeppelin field and town below. The buildings slowly shrinking as you rise up, there's a groan behind you as the giant engine comes to life and the ships propellers begin to rotate.

McAdams comes over and leans against the black iron rail surrounding the deck. "Pretty impressive what?" He says with a smile, "Captain figures we'll be in San Francisco by noon, we'll fly a circuit of the harbour before landing at the zeppelin field in Oakland." He packs a pipe he produces from his uniform jacket with tobacco and lights it with a Lucifer match that sparks and spits. "Give those bloody Yanks a bit of a show of the pride of Her Royal Highnesses fleet. The circuit should also give you time to get the lay of the land, see if we can't find your mystery airship while it's still on the ground. Hopefully it's not to bloody foggy or this could all be for naught."

The Daultless makes a long and lazy circle of San Francisco bay, large portions of which are blanketed in a thick fog. You can see the narrows at the mouth of the bay clearly as well as Alcatraz, the tip of Angel Island sticks up above a thick white blanket of mist and and you can see a number of sailing and steam ships tied up at docks at Sausalito. The docks closest to the Preciado are visible but everything from Fisherman's Warf East is blanketed in fog.

A number of ships, steam and sail powered are visible in the clear areas of the bay either moving from place to place or fishing and a thick plum of black smoke rises through the fog where a steam powered ship is making it's way from Oakland towards the Pacific.

Napoleon notices that there seems to be a number of artillery batteries along the shore controlling both the narrows and the bay itself.

Despite having an excellent view of the bay and the surrounding lands you cannot see the zeppelin, or what you think the zeppelin you're looking for looks like. The dense fog doesn't help but you get the impression that the fog itself is only perhaps a hundred feet thick from the surface of the water.

The Reliant slowly makes her way down towards the aerodrome in Oakland across the bay from San Francisco proper. There are two zeppelins here but they're small, very traditional crafts, single gas bag and a relatively small gondola suspended beneath by wires. Both of these craft are attached to mooring masts at the aerodrome and there are a handful of other aerial vessels at the port, one of which is clearly has a large aether propeller attached to the rear. This vessel is long and smooth, with wood finish on the exterior and large domed greenhouse down the middle. There's a shiny brass solar boiler and mirror array mounted midships and it appears to be held aloft with a combination of liftwood and a hydrogen gas bag.

Captain McAdams looks over at the Aether Flyer and nods towards it pointing out the Russian Imperial Eagle flying from it's stern, "That's Russian, one of the Tzar's ships."

Buford looks over at the ship, "Never seen an Aether propeller before, looks bloody complicated."

Mariette looks the Russian ship over carefully, "What would the Russians be doing here?" She asks McAdams.

"Stocking up no doubt," McAdams says with a grin, "you can only last so long on tinned fish and vodka."

"As opposed to biscuits and rum?" Helen asks.

McAdams nods, "Touché."

The linesmen near the bow and stern begin dropping ropes for the ground crew as you hear the steam engine slow and reverse bringing the large vessel to a halt.