Chapter Six

“A Man of Courage Does Not Run Away”

1.

ARNAUD WOKE GROGGILY, gasping for air; it felt like a ball of sandpaper was being forced up his windpipe. It seemed even when he did not consume considerable amounts of cognac the night before, he would still rise with a pounding headache.

“Merde,” he wheezed through cracked lips.

A sound.

He was not alone. Arnaud could not remember being disturbed in the middle of the night, but then again, when did he ever? He was, by nature, a deep sleeper.

“That’s an unpleasant cough, Doctor Fontaine. Need I fetch you some water?” Nathaniel’s voice filled the room and was, itself, filled with warmth. The red-headed Englishman was standing at one of the work benches tinkering away, his face lit with a pleasant smile.

Arnaud raised a curious eyebrow before entering a second fit of coughing. “Oui, it would seem so, but not to worry, I mean to make a visit to the common room.” He freed himself from the straps of the cot and could not help but return a smile.

Nathaniel put down the two components that he held, letting them float just above the work-surface. “I must admit, I spoke very harshly to you last night,” he began, and Arnaud was not going to disagree with that, even out of politeness. “I apologise, really. I think that we are all growing tiresome of this wretched journey, myself included. But that does not justify my behaviour.”

Arnaud felt as if a thorn had been plucked from his side. He almost had enough of Nathaniel’s erratic behaviour, and it was a relief to hear these words. “It’s all right; I have felt the strain of this forever journey also. Consider it forgotten.” He was sincere is his forgiveness, though he would not have been able to stay frustrated at Nathaniel, even if he tried.

He dressed quickly, and then joined Nathaniel in his tinkering, eager to begin a fresh day.

While the pair worked together, Arnaud thought appreciatively of Nathaniel’s apology. He was just happy to have his friend back.

2.

“ANNABELLE, ARE YOU here, or have you followed Commander Bedford aboard Sovereign again?” Nathaniel said, chuckling. “You have not touched your food yet, it is now surely cold!”

“Sorry?” Annabelle said, raising her head, utensil clinging to her right hand. “Oh, right. Yes. I was just thinking through the dreams I…we…have been having.”

“It is alright, there is no need to apologise,” he said, spooning a large portion of stew into his mouth. “You have a hypothesis for why we are having these dreams?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I cannot work out why we are having them, but that doesn’t stop me looking at what they mean.”

“Indeed. They are specific to each of us, so it is no shared dream that we are looking at. Instead, we should be looking at what they mean to each of us: Are they trying to tell us something? Or is it something else entirely? Is there a core reason behind this?”

Annabelle, watching Nathaniel sit with a thoughtful expression on his face, wondered what was running through his brilliant mind. She had begun to piece together what the dreams meant to her, but could she voice that to Nathaniel? He was her closest friend, yet still…

Standing up from his seat, Nathaniel wandered the room, rubbing his chin with his thumb and fore-finger, presumably trying to remember his dreams. He stopped, as if to continue the conversation, but no words came from him. Annabelle gently called his name, and he turned to look at her.

“I…I need to talk to you about something,” she said, and turned away from his intrigued look. She could not look at him while she said what was on her mind. “I said I had been looking at what the dreams have meant. While re-reading what I had written, I found something, a memory, one so entirely despicable and horrible that I had to pretend it did not exist, for fear of losing my sanity.”

Nathaniel came back to the table and sat beside her. “Are you okay? What is it?”

“I do not know how to voice such a thing.”

“I will not make you do something that you are uncomfortable with. Know that I will support you in any way I can.”

Annabelle looked at Nathaniel, a sad smile on her face. “If I cannot tell you, I will be running from it forever myself.” He tried to interject, but she refused him the opportunity, continuing: “There is a lot I have not told you, not told anyone.”

She watched Nathaniel; afraid to carry on, afraid what saying it out loud, admitting it, could mean. He said nothing, instead wearing an expression nearing dread. She didn’t like causing him to feel such a way, but there was no way she could tell him this, without causing such a reaction.

“I realised that my dreams were always set in the same place. The scenery, I knew I recognised, but could not remember from where. After last night’s dream, I know. It has always been in the Chiricahua Mountains.”

“Oh my goodness.”

“There is a lot about that place that will stay with me forever. I cannot think of it without remembering what happened to my family. My mother and father…” She caught another pained look on Nathaniel’s face. “There is something else, the little girl I keep seeing, she is a part of it. I have seen her face before in dream. I believed it was just a desire on my part to have a child. Now, I’m not so certain.”

“I cannot imagine what it was like to lose your parents in such a manner, for that I am truly sorry. It cannot be comfortable having these dreams that make you visit there.”

“It is not, no. Yet, it feels as if it is making me face what I have hidden for so long.” She stood up from her seat, and walked to the cooking area, facing away from Nathaniel. Images of Ceres swept through her mind. “When Koivunen attacked me on Messor Base I had a moment of deep panic. As if an unwanted memory was attempting to tunnel back into my brain. I suppressed it, but now, with all these dreams and my wondering, I know now what it was that I hid from.”

She turned her head back to Nathaniel, tears streaming down her face. The change in her made Nathaniel move swiftly over to her, embracing her. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs, pulling her closer to him. For a moment, she felt safe. Safe from her memory, safe from the pain.

“I remember far too much now,” she said, the words spilling without thought. “I remember the sight of my father with a brave’s axe in his skull, the blood shining in the dim light of that cave. And I remember being bound, the leather straps cutting into my wrists until I thought my hands would turn black and shrivel away. They almost did. Perhaps that would have been for the best. Maimed girls are undesirable.”

“Here now, that again?” Nathaniel said. “You are a beautiful young…” He paused with realization. “Oh.”

Annabelle nodded. “It’s a strange thing. I don’t hate the Apache, not all of them. Some of them, though, I would see burn. The one I was given to as a war prize, he was…not gentle.” She shuddered. “But these are my memories, my life. Good and bad, they’re mine to own, don’t you see?”

She allowed herself to sob for a while, holding Nathaniel in sombre silence, comfort coming from their tight embrace. Annabelle pulled away from him softly, tears still clinging to her face. “You have had a life of pain, my dear Annabelle. I do not know what to say.”

Annabelle, without looking at Nathaniel, nodded, and walked back to the table, delicately sitting down. Her head hurt from thinking, and remembering. Her eyes felt like they had two oceans storming around them. She thought Nathaniel looked almost as pained as when he had believed Arnaud dead.

“There is one more thing that I have begun to think. Something that would make sense of my dreams.”

Nathaniel looked at her, joining her again. He didn’t look like he could handle any more.

“I…I think a child came from that.” She paused, trying to find words. “The girl from my dreams, she is around the age that my child would be. I cannot be sure, but it feels as if it is true.”

“I cannot believe it. Is it true? You have a child?” Before Annabelle could reply, he added. “You did mention a child when we were on Mars. However, such was your state at the time, I thought it was delirium talking and paid no heed to it.”

“I would have presumed as much myself, if it had been the other way round. My memories are hazy, and I am too scared to keep pushing, but if this feeling is any indication, then I believe that I do have a daughter. The feeling I get when I see her in my dreams is so profound. I feel the need to protect her, to save her.”

Nathaniel’s looked at her with understanding. “Where will you go from here?”

“I do not know yet, but there is one other I must talk to before I decide anything.”

“Commander Bedford.”

“Yes.”

The two sat in profound silence. Annabelle felt a sense of release. Yes, it had been uncomfortable to realise and voice her painful memories, but also, she could not have had a better person to be there for her in this time. She liked to believe she knew how George would react, but he was also a Navy man—would he want her if she was soiled goods? Nathaniel had no such issue; he was her friend, he would remain by her side whatever. She watched Nathaniel for a while, his eyes filled with sorrow and what she thought was confusion. “Is there something else on your mind?” she asked.

Nathaniel came back into the room and his head turned to her. “There is something, but I do not think it would quite be appropriate after what I have just found out.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, much like I did with you.”

He nodded in response, but held his silence.

There was an unusual look in Nathaniel’s eyes that Annabelle had only seen a few times. Mostly followed by something important. Sensing that he may feel as she had done, trying to find the words to say, she asked, “Has something happened to you? Something bad?”

Nathaniel shook his head, instead looking slightly more relaxed. “It is nothing that you need to worry about, more that I need to worry about.” He smiled ruefully. “You aren’t the only one with dark secrets, my dear.”

Annabelle held his hand. “Then tell me. You let me inflict my secrets on you, surely I can allow you the same courtesy. And I’ve worried about you recently.”

Nathaniel chuckled softly. “I am far more transparent than I care to be, if you’ve sensed my troubles. But no, it is nothing akin to the horror you went through. Rather it is something that I have struggled with for as long as I can remember. I have always felt that I was made wrong,” he added after a pause of consideration. “I have such thoughts that would be considered deviant. I know that love is the grandest emotion that we can have for another. That by God’s law ‘Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination’, but there is someone that I have fallen so deeply in love with that it contradicts that, and I fear being cast from God’s love.”

Annabelle looked at Nathaniel in silence. He could only mean one person, and Annabelle felt sure she knew who. His next words only served to confirm what she had suspected for some time, although she hadn’t realised such suspicions until now.

“Annabelle, I think I am in love with Arnaud.”

3.

FENN LAY UNDER the main boiler, tightening some of the screws, thankful for the opportunity to immerse himself in work. Folkard’s biting words still left their mark on him.

That and what passed for his future. When they landed on Mars, he would be brought to justice. Some justice. Those damn Russians, if only he could have used the professor’s alias; he wouldn’t be feeling like he was. He could not bear to think of the repercussions for his family. The shame. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, tightening the last bolt.

Hearing the door to the engine room open, and subsequently close, he slid out from his position and stood to greet his visitor. It was Nathaniel, smiling, and greeting him affectionately. Fenn responded with a gruff “hello”, and carried on to the far side of the room. Nathaniel followed him in silence, noting his lack of conversation. After a few moments of checking the dials, Fenn allowed his irritation to best him and snapped.

“What do you want?”

Nathaniel shied away in surprise at his outburst. “Come now, Jack, is that any way to greet a friend, mood or not?”

Being reprimanded by Nathaniel was the least of his worries, but he still felt ill at ease having causing his friend to take offence. Changing tack, he started again with an apology. “I’m sorry, Prof. I’ve not had a good night, as I’m sure you’re fully aware. Is there something you wanted?”

A blank stare answered his words. Had Folkard not informed the crew? Get the guilty party to explain himself? A cruel punishment indeed.

“You have had no word from Folkard of what transpired?”

Nathaniel shook his head.

“It surely is better to come from me, than another source.” Fenn sighed. Shaking his head. “When we last docked on Earth, I was attacked by Russians and forced to reveal our biggest secret—that you are alive. In my weakness, I forgot to use your alias and they took great pleasure in gleaning the information from me.”

“My goodness,” Nathaniel replied. A look of horror filling his face. “How are you holding up?”

Fenn had always considered Nathaniel a good man, but he couldn’t understand this reaction. Fenn had betrayed him, and all he was concerned about what Fenn’s wellbeing? “I am all better now,” he said, unable to hide his confusion. “I am so very sorry. I was weak, and I know the punishment that will follow.”

Nathaniel looked carefully at Fenn. “I know that you did not mean to let out that information, and I am thankful that you told me in person. I am sorry, also, for what will happen because of that.”

Fenn hung his head dejectedly. The professor was too good a man. Fenn doubted he would be so understanding were the positions reversed.

“Why don’t you take a banyan, Jack?” Nathaniel asked, worry on his face. “I’ll keep an eye on things for a bit.”

“Thanks, but I think I’d rather just get on with the work, you know? Keep my mind off it all, as much as I can.”

Nathaniel nodded. “Then how about I help you, make sure all is okay with the governor?”

Fenn muttered “thanks” and went back to his primary station.

4.

FOLKARD PACED BACK and forth. He was getting restless again; the role of a space mariner was proving less exciting than he expected, and he found himself longing for his old command again. He heard clinking on the rungs just outside the door. He paused with hands behind his back.

Professor Stone’s head became visible through the pane of the door. Folkard nodded to him, and beckoned him in. The door opened with a slight creak and Stone entered, closing the stiff hinged door behind him. “How goes your duty, Captain?”

“Well enough, Stone. We are making adequate time for Mars, even with our detoured route. We should arrive in just under eleven days, lest we have continued problems with the engines.”

“All was in good order when I left the engine room, neither Jack nor I foresee any trouble.”

Folkard nodded and walked to the back of his chair. He looked into space, narrowing his eyes. He was about to reply to Stone but an odd feeling of apprehension distracted him. He tried to shake the feeling and he wiped his face with a broad palm. Folkard hated being unfocussed, and had no patience for those who took their time with their replies so it was frustrating for himself to do so.

“Fenn mentioned to me what you two spoke of yesterday,” Stone said.

Folkard eyed the professor, his brow creasing slightly. A hint of a smile lingered at one side of Stone’s mouth. What was the man up to? The only words shared with Seaman Fenn were several commands and compliances through the speaking tube. It seemed an odd thing for the two to speak about. “Oh. Well as you said, the engines are unhindered no?”

“Perhaps the odd hiccough here and there from the troubles they endured the other week, but other than that they seem much better.”

There was silence for a moment as Folkard attempted to remember his previous trail of thought. He had almost felt a premonition coming on, but the sensation had passed.

“Oh, and not to forget, Captain, I’ve confirmed with Fenn that some of the instruments have been giving false readings.”

Folkard snapped out of his near day dream and sharply turned his head to Nathaniel. “I see. I hope there was no delay in bringing me this news?”

“I came straight from the engine room. The reading are only slightly uncalibrated, it’s just a case of tweaking them slightly, which I have come to do.” Stone moved over to inspect the aetherlabe and various readings. “Thus nothing should be amiss with our location or progress. When did someone last relive you of your post, Captain? I’m sure Annabelle should be here by now.”

Come to think of it, this had been quite the prolonged shift, and lethargy did not do well on duty. “I think you are right, Stone. Where is Miss Annabelle?”

“I’m not sure, I did not see here on my stroll up. You need not worry though; I can take over for you. She’s bound to turn up soon.”

Folkard sensed an odd air about Stone… Well, different at least. The man had been out of sorts lately, but was this his way of putting that behind him? “Very well then, I shall retire to my quarters. Remind me of any changes that you make to the instruments.”

The two exchanged goodbyes and then Folkard heaved open the heavy door and looked down into the claustrophobic shaft that led to the rest of the ship. He was closing the door behind him when he began to experience what felt like another psychic episode dawning. But no, the sensation quickly departed.

Folkard continued to stare down the stretch of steel and iron. He could not help but feel a sense of foreboding. Something what wrong, out of place, missing perhaps.

This feeling stayed with Folkard for the rest of the night. Later on, as he drifted gently within the confines of the cot’s straps, though fatigue had ravaged him, he laid awake unable to find peace.