I was aboard a submersible boat. As I descended with my sewing kit, I had the sense of being within an enormous wine cask; plank walls curved over and around me and met copper-clad walls at intricately wrought iron arches. I stumbled away from the ladder, and caught myself by pressing one hand to a cool wall.
"Do you get seasick?" Alpha asked.
"I crossed the Atlantic without issue," I said, "Your floor is not quite level."
Their captain, which I could only assume this Alpha to be, made a sharp nod then said quietly, "The upper decking is sloped for drainage. You must have seen something like it in a dhobitorium."
"Yes, I-"
Alpha interrupted, "You will find interior space is not such an inexhaustible commodity aboard the Narcís." He shifted his attention to the young woman descending the ladder. I averted my own gaze, as this lady in steam engineer's gloves, goggles, and leather vest also happened to be wearing a scandalously short skirt supported by hoops.
"You like my verdugado?" She asked, using Spanish terms; her eyes on me as she grinned.
I gestured towards my chest, "Moi?" Honey laughed at me from behind her hand. "I'm sure it's a finely constructed farthingale, though hardly reg proper unless on a stage."
"You know what the bards say, 'All the world's a stage...'."
I shook my head.
"Life is performance!" Honey agreed.
Alpha exhaled in a huff, yet said, "'Quod fere totus mundus exerceat histrionem."
I nodded finally, lately realizing how much of my life had been acting in compliance to another's script.
"Dolly," Alpha said to his engineer, and I could not help but gasp at the impolite epithet, "quarter speed around the Isle." He looked on me, brow furrowed. "It's short for Dolores." He shook his head, then proceeded to open a hatch on the floor.
As Dolores turned a handle to open a door in an interior wall, I descended with the others. I would not have been surprised to find a cargo hold as on a Mercantile vessel, or rows of bunks for soldiers, but there was a polished dining table gleaming under brilliant arclights. Honey had to remind me to keep moving, as I hesitated on the ladder.
When we opened the next hatch into a parlor lit by arclamp sconces and curiously rippling light from a pane in the upper hull, I was less shocked than I was curious how they came by this luxury.
Offset in the parlor's far wall was a narrow corridor. Here Alpha turned. "Stay here with Sina."
Sina, the young woman dark of skin, hair and eyes, nodded to her captain.
Alpha left us, going through the corridor and a hatch at its other end. That door he left open allowing us to hear some conversation within, though I did not recognize the language.
At my side, Honey touched her fingers to mine. I looked to her from the corners of my eyes and she whispered to me, "Because we are both missing our other half." I nodded then grasped her smaller hand in mine.
We waited in the parlor, seated on a leather-upholstered chesterfield sofa. Sina knelt on a small mat, still as if in meditation, though she was always looking back when I glanced at her. Shadows of other vessels passed over the skylight, though in the small round portholes I saw only reflections of the interior. I was able to sense some movement of our vessel, as when I had been below-deck on a large trans-Atlantic steamer. Gradually, the light from the windows seemed to get brighter.
Alpha came to us saying we were at Tower Bridge. "You," he said.
"Julien. Julien Dangerous."
He paused. I was familiar with the reaction. There were many who assumed I had taken this name for myself under some pretense.
"It's anglicized-"
Alpha interrupted; I hoped this was not to become a habit. "We'll have time for formalities later. You both come with me."
As we walked back through the dining room I attempted an explanation, "Miss Honey is one of Molly Clap's companions."
Alpha only glanced at her, but the slight curve of his lips indicated he approved. "Hetairoi," he said-- it might have been Latin --as he climbed the ladder, "personal body guard."
I climbed after Alpha, into the upper antechambers-- the wet rooms. "How do we know if we are above or below the surface?" I asked.
Alpha patted his left hand against a hanging apparatus, "Periscope, but we don't need it here. We're loosing the tide and risk running aground if fully submerged." He smiled at me, "Let's hope we generate nothing but a few sea-monster sightings." He proceeded up the ladder and then unscrewed the hatch. A small amount of water dripped in around the round opening.
Seeing a beckoning gesture, I climbed . I saw Alpha crouched beside the hatch, and a low wall of copper and brass surrounded us, which was higher fore than it was aft. Spotting the upper part of the vessel's tail protruding from the water, I perceived how this low surround and the stacks might seem fin and spines of a monstrous marine animal.
Honey climbed up after me, as Alpha studied the bascules and piers with a small spyglass. The coloring of his leather clothing, though darker, blended with the tarnished copper cladding on the Narcís.
A metallic ping sounded and Alpha reached across me to unscrew a small cover from a nearby pipe. "Speak," he said loudly.
A distorted voice came from within the pipe, "Sounding less than two fathoms, Captain. Do I blow ballast?"
"Belay." He looked to Honey. "We have little time. If I give you means to climb, can you make your own escape?"
She nodded.
Alpha loaded a grappling line into a small canon and launched it toward the north bascule. If workers should spot the Narcís and raise the bridge now, Honey may be injured and Murphy unable to reach us.