Word of Honour

Aubrey grinned at Stephens's infectious enthusiam. It was good to see someone so keen on using the latest developments. Many in the military were wary of magic; Stephens seemed eager to embrace it.

'We've had some of the best people working on it, Darius,' Rokeby-Taylor said. 'We even brought in some clever chaps from the Continent, to work on the batteries. The guidance system on the torpedoes was a collaboration job, Phelps and Ainsworth.'

'From Greythorn?' Aubrey asked. 'They were part of the research team on elemental magic.'

'This is much more important than all that theoretical stuff,' Rokeby-Taylor said. 'This is vital for the defence of the realm.'

Aubrey had a different point of view on that but he bit his tongue.

Captain Stephens strolled over the gangway. 'Double hulled, the Electra is,' he went on. 'The internal hull for holding pressure and the external skin shaped to let us slip through the water like a shark.'

He climbed up the ladder on the side of the conning tower. Sir Darius mounted easily; the others followed.

Aubrey was fascinated by the Electra. This sort of thing excited him – using magic in a careful, rational way to improve processes and materials, to break new ground, to shape new futures. The sooner all the mystical hand-waving could be left behind as an embarrassing relic of the past, the better. Magic was knowable, just as the inner workings of atoms was proving to be knowable. It was a bold world that was dawning and Aubrey was eager to be part of it.

Captain Stephens proudly showed them around. Aubrey couldn't help noticing how everything was built on a reduced scale – passageways, doors, even bunks – and he assumed the sailors selected to serve on the Electra would be chosen for their stature as much as anything else, the same way jockeys were.

He had a momentary vision of the narrow stairs full of colourful racing silks and he stifled a laugh.

Captain Stephens glanced sharply at him. 'Yes, you're bound to find the air a bit close down here. That's what happens when you run engines in a confined space, then pack thirty men in as well.'

'Show them the batteries, Stephens,' Rokeby-Taylor said. He turned to the others. 'It's where we have some of our most advanced magical developments.'

Captain Stephens glanced at his watch. 'It'll have to wait for a moment, sir. The officers should have come aboard and the crew is due. If you'll follow me to the wardroom.'

A long whistle sounded from above. Then the whole submersible began to echo with the noise of running feet and shouted orders. Captain Stephens glanced upward. 'We're about to get rather crowded. Let's hurry.'

The officers' wardroom was a neat, tiny area. It had a table large enough to seat four – if they didn't mind sitting shoulder to shoulder – with chairs to match. The table had a starched white cloth, but was otherwise bare. Shelves on the walls were stacked with books. A hatch opened onto the galley and Aubrey could see sailors already at work.

An officer was present. He blinked for a moment, goggled at the newcomers, and then seemed to remember what was expected of him. He rose, knocked over his chair and made what could be called a salute only by those with extremely poor eyesight.

Captain Stephens covered a smile. 'Prime Minister, Mr Rokeby-Taylor, this is Lieutenant Henry Atwood. Special Assignment.'

'Atwood,' Sir Darius said. 'We're pleased to be aboard.'

Atwood considered this. 'Sir?' His wrinkled jacket looked as if it had been only recently yanked out of a bottom drawer in lieu of anything better to wear. His cap struggled to cover a mop of black curly hair. His eyes bulged slightly and his nose was red.

'Special Assignment,' Sir Darius continued. 'You've been dragged from magical studies somewhere or other?'

'Angel College, sir. One minute I was working on transformational magic, the next I'm here.'

'Atwood is one of our specialists,' Rokeby-Taylor said. 'We needed the best, so we went out and got him.'

'I didn't have much choice,' Atwood said plaintively. 'The dean said they were closing my laboratory.'

'Quite, quite,' Rokeby-Taylor said. 'Still, the facilities at Clear Haven are first class, I'm sure. If they're not, you just let me know and I'll have something done about it right away.'

'Yes, sir.' Atwood brightened. 'Yes, sir.'

Captain Stephens saluted. 'If all is in order, sir, I'll go to the control room and take her out.'

Aubrey must have made some sound, for everyone looked at him. 'We're actually going on a cruise, in a submersible?'

Rokeby-Taylor beamed. 'It's the best way to show off this wonder. Your father has had some doubts about the project, I've heard, so I thought he needed to see it. He can't help but be impressed after the Electra goes through her paces.' He scratched behind his ear. 'Stephens, exactly where are we going?'

'The aim of our voyage is to head up the north-west channel, between Whiteside Island and the Glough to the west.'

'Submerged?' Aubrey asked.

'Not through the channel. Once we clear it – about half an hour or so – we're in the open sea. We'll dive, run on batteries, and we'll see what she can do. If the weather's kind, we'll surface near a speck of rock called the Widow's Sorrow, surprise the seabirds and point at the seals, if any are home.'

'Excellent,' Sir Darius said. 'I'm looking forward to it.'

'As are we all. Atwood, to your post.'

Isolated as they were in the wardroom, Aubrey nevertheless had the impression of being in the middle of furious activity. Shouts bounced along the walls, adding to the mounting vibrations; mysterious thuds and clanks made the deck shudder. Running through all of this was the muffled cursing that seemed to be the standard operating noise of seamen. Rokeby-Taylor disappeared, saying he wanted to check the battery set-up. He returned a few minutes later, red-faced and muttering about over-officious petty officers.

Soon, Sir Darius began drumming his fingers. 'Aubrey?'

'Sir?'

'You're sensing magic here?'

'Certainly. All around.'

'What sort?'

This was difficult. Describing varieties of magic to a non-magician was like describing musical scales to the tone deaf. 'Complex. Very different from anything I've experienced.'

'New?'

Aubrey spread his hands. 'It could be. I need to get closer to the source.'

'Hmm.' Sir Darius resumed his finger-drumming. 'Well, keep at it, please.' He glared at the walls of the wardroom, as if he wished he could see right through them.

Rokeby-Taylor waved a hand. 'You're interested in magic?'

'I'm going to study it at university, sir,' Aubrey said.

'Good man. You must have more talent than I had. Or more application. Fascinating stuff, magic.' He pursed his lips. 'Let me see. I might be able to remember a fire spell I was quite a dab hand at.'

'Fire on a submersible?' George said. 'Not a good idea, Mr Rokeby-Taylor.'

'Eh? I say, you're right.' He slapped himself on the forehead and laughed. 'Can't have the builder of the boat blowing it up now, can we?'