have to commandeer your ship.”
The captain gave a hard bark of laughter. “Oh really?” He sounded dangerously tense. “Is that right, Mr. . . .” He leaned over and read the paper in his lieutenant’s hands. “Mr. Fennec? Is that
right
?”
Glancing at Cumbershum, Bellis realized that he was staring at the newcomer with astonishment and alarm. He interrupted the captain.
“Sir,” he said urgently. “Might I suggest that we thank our hosts and let them return to their business?” He looked meaningfully at the cray. The translator was listening carefully.
The captain hesitated and gave a curt nod. “Please inform our hosts that their hospitality is excellent,” he ordered Bellis brusquely. “Thank them for their time. We can find our own way out.”
As Bellis spoke, the cray bowed gracefully. The two councilors came forward and shook hands again, to the captain’s barely concealed fury. They left the way Mr. Fennec had come in.
“Miss Coldwine?” The captain indicated the door that led back to the submersible. “Wait for us outside, please. This is government business.”
Bellis lingered in the corridor, silently cursing. She could hear the captain’s bellicose roaring through the door. However she strained, though, she could not make out what was being said.
“Gods
damm
it,” she muttered, and returned to the featureless concrete room where the submersible sat like some grotesque wallowing creature. The cray attendant waited idly, softly clucking.
The submersible pilot was picking his teeth. His breath smelled of fish.
Bellis leaned against a wall and waited.
After more than twenty minutes the captain burst through the door, followed by Cumbershum, desperately trying to placate him.
“Just don’t fucking speak to me at the moment, Cumbershum, all right?” shouted the captain. Bellis stared, astonished. “Just make sure you keep
Mr. fucking Fennec
out of my sight or I will
not
be responsible for what happens, signed and sealed letter of fucking commission or not.”
Behind the lieutenant, Fennec peered around the edge of the door.
Cumbershum gestured Bellis and Fennec quickly into the back of the submersible. He looked panicked. When he sat down in front of Bellis, beside the captain, she saw that he was straining away from Myzovic.
As the sea began to pour back in through the walls of the concrete room, and the sound of hidden engines made the vessel vibrate, the man in the scuffed leather coat turned to Bellis and smiled.
“Silas Fennec,” he whispered, and held out his hand. Bellis paused, then took it.
“Bellis,” she murmured. “Coldwine.”
No one spoke on the journey to the surface. Back on the
Terpsichoria
’s deck, the captain stormed to his office.
“Mr. Cumbershum,” he belted. “Bring Mr. Fennec to me.”
Silas Fennec saw Bellis watching him. He jerked his head toward the captain’s back and for the briefest moment rolled his eyes, then nodded in farewell and trotted off in Myzovic’s wake.
Johannes was gone, off somewhere in Salkrikaltor. Bellis looked resentfully across the water at lights that picked out the towers. There were no boats by the
Terpsichoria
’s sides, and no one to row her away from the ship. Bellis brimmed with frustration. Even the mewling Sister Meriope had found the strength to leave the boat.
Bellis went to find Cumbershum. He was watching his men patch up a damaged sail.
“Miss Coldwine.” He looked at her without warmth.
“Lieutenant,” she said. “I wanted to know how I might place some mail in the New Crobuzon storeroom of which Captain Myzovic told me. I have something urgent to send . . .”
Her voice petered out. He was shaking his head.
“Impossible, Miss Coldwine. I can spare no one to escort you, I don’t have the key and I am
not
asking the captain for it now . . . Would you like me to go on?”
Bellis felt a sting of misery, and she held herself very still.
“Lieutenant,” she said slowly, keeping her
The captain gave a hard bark of laughter. “Oh really?” He sounded dangerously tense. “Is that right, Mr. . . .” He leaned over and read the paper in his lieutenant’s hands. “Mr. Fennec? Is that
right
?”
Glancing at Cumbershum, Bellis realized that he was staring at the newcomer with astonishment and alarm. He interrupted the captain.
“Sir,” he said urgently. “Might I suggest that we thank our hosts and let them return to their business?” He looked meaningfully at the cray. The translator was listening carefully.
The captain hesitated and gave a curt nod. “Please inform our hosts that their hospitality is excellent,” he ordered Bellis brusquely. “Thank them for their time. We can find our own way out.”
As Bellis spoke, the cray bowed gracefully. The two councilors came forward and shook hands again, to the captain’s barely concealed fury. They left the way Mr. Fennec had come in.
“Miss Coldwine?” The captain indicated the door that led back to the submersible. “Wait for us outside, please. This is government business.”
Bellis lingered in the corridor, silently cursing. She could hear the captain’s bellicose roaring through the door. However she strained, though, she could not make out what was being said.
“Gods
damm
it,” she muttered, and returned to the featureless concrete room where the submersible sat like some grotesque wallowing creature. The cray attendant waited idly, softly clucking.
The submersible pilot was picking his teeth. His breath smelled of fish.
Bellis leaned against a wall and waited.
After more than twenty minutes the captain burst through the door, followed by Cumbershum, desperately trying to placate him.
“Just don’t fucking speak to me at the moment, Cumbershum, all right?” shouted the captain. Bellis stared, astonished. “Just make sure you keep
Mr. fucking Fennec
out of my sight or I will
not
be responsible for what happens, signed and sealed letter of fucking commission or not.”
Behind the lieutenant, Fennec peered around the edge of the door.
Cumbershum gestured Bellis and Fennec quickly into the back of the submersible. He looked panicked. When he sat down in front of Bellis, beside the captain, she saw that he was straining away from Myzovic.
As the sea began to pour back in through the walls of the concrete room, and the sound of hidden engines made the vessel vibrate, the man in the scuffed leather coat turned to Bellis and smiled.
“Silas Fennec,” he whispered, and held out his hand. Bellis paused, then took it.
“Bellis,” she murmured. “Coldwine.”
No one spoke on the journey to the surface. Back on the
Terpsichoria
’s deck, the captain stormed to his office.
“Mr. Cumbershum,” he belted. “Bring Mr. Fennec to me.”
Silas Fennec saw Bellis watching him. He jerked his head toward the captain’s back and for the briefest moment rolled his eyes, then nodded in farewell and trotted off in Myzovic’s wake.
Johannes was gone, off somewhere in Salkrikaltor. Bellis looked resentfully across the water at lights that picked out the towers. There were no boats by the
Terpsichoria
’s sides, and no one to row her away from the ship. Bellis brimmed with frustration. Even the mewling Sister Meriope had found the strength to leave the boat.
Bellis went to find Cumbershum. He was watching his men patch up a damaged sail.
“Miss Coldwine.” He looked at her without warmth.
“Lieutenant,” she said. “I wanted to know how I might place some mail in the New Crobuzon storeroom of which Captain Myzovic told me. I have something urgent to send . . .”
Her voice petered out. He was shaking his head.
“Impossible, Miss Coldwine. I can spare no one to escort you, I don’t have the key and I am
not
asking the captain for it now . . . Would you like me to go on?”
Bellis felt a sting of misery, and she held herself very still.
“Lieutenant,” she said slowly, keeping her
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