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crew,” he said as he flipped down the back of the bench and revealed a nook lined in navy velvet. Inside the nook rested a crystal decanter and four matching glasses. He plucked a glass from the nook and half-filled it with the clear liquid from the decanter. He returned the back to its place, then plopped onto the bench. The liquid sloshed over the edge of the glass and wetted his hand. “I come here to find some peace. Think things out,” he said as he transferred the glass to his other hand, then wiped his palm across the leg of his fustian trousers.
    “You must be the most peaceful man on all the island,” Admiral Daughton said.
    The tall man held up the glass. “To peace.”
    Admiral Daughton cleared his throat. “Ikey Berliss, I want you to meet—“
    “Call me Cross,” the tall man said as he extended his long, thin hand. Grease filled the narrow creases in his flesh and appeared to be permanently worked into the callouses of his fingers, much like Ikey’s own.
    Ikey took Cross’s hand and expected it to be as warm and soft as his uncle’s. Instead, Cross crushed his grip until Ikey gritted his teeth.
    “I picked Ikey up in The Dales,” Admiral Daughton said. “He has an aptitude for mechanics and a Yorkie’s ignorance of social graces. He shall get along nicely with your crew.”
    Cross shook his head. “I needn’t anymore sprogs on my crew. I’ll be damned if I’m an engineer and not a bloody nanny.”
    “If you had enough capable people on your crew, you wouldn’t be so far behind.”
    “We’re making time. Your ship will sail before due.” Cross took a gulp from the glass.
    “As much as your continued presence in the pub fills me with confidence, I’m afraid I must insist. You will take Mr. Berliss on your crew. You will make use of his talents. I am paying good money for him, and you will make sure I get a return on my investment. Is that understood?”
    “Aye,” Cross said before taking another drink. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “How old are you, Mr. Berliss?”
    “Eighteen.”
    “Eighteen?” Cross asked Admiral Daughton. “And he’s suppose to be of use? He ain’t old enough to know the difference between his pecker and a spanner. By the way,” Cross said to Ikey, “the spanner is the one you hold like this.” He winked and pantomimed swinging a spanner around a bolt.
    Fire shot up Ikey’s face. He looked away and wished for somewhere dark and close to slip into and hide.
    “Think of it as an apprenticeship, if that helps,” Admiral Daughton said. “But I want him to know the ropes. I want him to know the ship inside and out and to be able to replace anyone on the engineering crew. Anyone. Because I’ll start replacing the crew piecemeal if that’s what it takes to get a day’s work out of you and your layabouts.”
    Cross emptied his glass. He exhaled through clenched teeth and placed the glass on his knee.
    Ikey sat up in his corner of the carriage. If Cross flat out refused to take Ikey on, would Admiral Daughton cut him loose and send him home?
    Cross’s eyes flicked to the floor, then back to Admiral Daughton. “Well then, tell Smith to drop him off at the hangar at dawn. Sharp will keep him out of my way.”
    Ikey slumped into the corner.
    Admiral Daughton smirked. “He’s not staying with me, and I’m not paying for his room and board. You’ll be apprenticing him, so he’ll stay with you.”
    “Me?” Cross placed a bony hand over his chest. “Like bloody hell he will. I don’t intend to start a boffing bed and breakfast.” The glass jiggled on his knee. “And what with Rose—”
    “Then put him to work as your blasted housemaid for all I care. But do so after hours, because when I next check on your progress,” Admiral Daughton cast a finger towards Ikey, “he ought to be able to sing the components of your engine.”
    Cross rolled his eyes to the velvet-draped ceiling. The jiggling of his knee intensified until the glass