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was more predatory in appearance. From above, the warship’s ram was visible just below the ocean’s surface, sunlight glinting off the metal projection. A circular, slope-sided structure with portholes for artillery pieces was built aft of that, followed by the funnels and command room, and then the bulkier portion of the ship that housed the two armored paddlewheels.
    What an ungainly construct, Alexandros mused as he motioned for his signals operator to join him. The airship had descended now to the point that they could see people walking about on the warship’s gantries and walkways.
    “Have they responded to our wireless message yet?” he queried First Officer Ionia. The first officer passed the message down to the wireless room, then shook his head at the reply.
    “Sir, there’s someone on deck signaling us,” the signalman reported in. “It appears they do not have wireless capability.”
    Alexandros cursed. “Naturally, the navy’s oldest ships have the oldest technology.” He sighed. “Very well, Signalman, please inform them that we are here to help escort them to Cydonia on Creta.”
    The signalman saluted before pulling out his communication flags and beginning the complicated dance of sending a message to the naval warship.
    In the meantime, Alexandros ordered his crew back to their regular duty schedule.
    The rest of the day progressed as normal. As did the day after that. For days on end, the airship shadowed the convoy, the routine droning on and on. Alexandros tried not to allow his men to become accustomed to this. He ran drills and did inspections, had his men switch positions to improve their knowledge and training. To their credit, Alexandros was impressed at how the men responded to his constant coaching. Their response time improved, and their navigation and repair skills grew with each passing day. Even with the multitude of small repairs that the airship seemed to require, she stayed aloft and mobile, which was about all Alexandros could ask. In concert with the warship, the HMS Lorica, they even arranged for target practice, shooting barrels in the water from high above.
    It happened in the early morning on their twelfth day of the escort tour.
    “Sir, the Lorica reports that it has lost sight of the Fila Maria . They are requesting we investigate.”
    Alexandros’s sleep-addled brain leapt at the opportunity to do something.
    “Inform the Lorica that we will be leaving station and sweeping rearwards,” he called out.
    The airship’s control room began to buzz with increased activity as fresh crewmen manned posts, and a steady stream of reports came in. The pitch of the engine grew sharper as the large propeller blade spun faster, the rudder pushing the ship to starboard. The ship turned, providing a new view to the crew as they doubled back on their search route.
    “She must have gone missing during the night,” Alexandros mused as he scanned the horizon with his spyglass. “It’s only about an hour after dawn.”
    Even now, the fresh crew were stifling yawns at their posts. The bright morning sun left shadows on the deck as the ship turned, blinding the observers and causing Alexandros to squint.
    A moment passed, and the airship was back on the correct heading.
    “Sir,” his first officer called to him. Alexandros turned and walked over to the man as he stood at the navigation desk. “I was looking back along our track to see where we might have lost the ship. According to the night watch, there were no storms or bad weather along our passage.” Ionia briefly read a note handed to him by an aide before handing it to the cadet captain.
    “Last confirmed sighting of the Fila Maria is just after midnight. Were the night crews sleeping on duty? How could they lose a ship? There should be eight points of light on the water. When there are only seven, it is a problem!” Alexandros stated sardonically. Unfortunately, I’m not surprised, given the men aboard