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sense of fright that I cannot comprehend.”
    Arnaud moved away from Nathanial, confused. He studied Nathanial as he sat, a hint of a grin creeping onto his friend’s face. He could only wonder what thoughts were behind that smile.
    2.
    “ BUT WE’VE PASSED it before, several times I might add, why should there be an irregularity this time?” Nathanial asked.
    “Well there is a strain on my…the flyer’s engine. We are at the correct speed and on course, but the engine is only just managing that at the moment,” Fenn shouted back from behind a pipe.
    “I’m sorry but a plethora of flyers and crafts pass this way to Mars, and you rarely hear of any having such troubles!” Nathanial said, having to raise his voice over the hiss of steam, his complexion flushing a slight tone of scarlet. He waved his hand about frantically as a small burst of steam jetted into his face.
    “I am not disagreeing with you, Prof, I am just saying what’s happening. The pipes are acting up a bit more than usual.” Fenn was attempting to tighten a large bolt, but failing to get it to move at all. “I spoke with the cap’ through the speaking tube after the boiler began to play up, but he reckons it will pass. I could barely hear what he was saying over this racket, mind. Could you have a word for me?”
    Nathanial was thinking of doing just that. Folkard surely wouldn’t endanger their lives by meandering too close to the vortex. And yet he could feel worry forming deep in his gut. He hated that feeling, the feeling of the lump that begins in the stomach, snaking its way up the throat as things worsen; a feeling far too familiar.
    Nathanial stopped for a moment and wondered why he was all up in arms over the engine behaving strangely. Perhaps the past year had dashed him with a nervous disposition. The thought almost made him laugh. Perhaps indeed! There was no real doubt in the matter.
    Fenn ceased his attempt on the bolt and emerged from the large pipe, beginning to check gauges at a workstation. “I cannot understand why she is giving me such trouble. We aren’t exactly rocketing through atmosphere or caught in an awkward orbit,” he said gesturing to the read-outs in front of them.
    Nathanial leaned over to inspect the pressure gauges more closely and then looked down the stretch toward the boiler. The engine room had its own chorus of fricatives emanating from all over the room. Nathanial could empathise with its struggle.
    “If that were the case then this lot acting like this would be expected. There is sometimes a pull from the planets’ wakes but usually the journey remains calm,” Fenn said, still watching the gauges closely.
    Nathanial did not find Fenn’s words encouraging. “I will speak with Folkard. Hopefully he can shed some light as to why this is happening.”
    Fenn turned and gave Nathanial a most sincere but also slightly puzzled look. “You do seem fairly distressed by this, Professor. Are you alright?”
    Nathanial attempted to hide his doubt with a hollow smile. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, just ensuring that you can carry out your duties properly. You know I like to lend a hand in here and I’m sure Folkard would want to know if there may be a fault with Esmeralda .” Nathanial left no space for a reply as he turned toward the door.
    3.
    AT THE END of the engine room, Fenn re-emerged from a nest of pipes lying beneath the bulbous form of the boiler. Being in such a confined and warm place was far from comfortable and he could only manage several minutes at a time down there. He had been getting unusual readings of late so it had become compulsory to check the very bowels of the engines for faults.
    He had taken a short break from his maintenance checks when he heard someone above, on the decking.
    Their words had been lost amidst the din of the boiler.
    He wiped a dirty cuff across his equally grimy forehead. “Professor, is that you?” he called out.
    No reply.
    He walked through a veil of steam,