The Forever Journey by Paul F Gwyn

concerned Stone could not have arrived sooner, as he had been on shift for what seemed like an eternity now.
    But it wasn’t Stone, it was the captain himself.
    “Does the problem still persist, lad?” Folkard huffed, surprising Fenn with the abrupt question.
    Fenn immediately stood to attention, despite his fatigue. “Sorry, sir, I thought you were the professor for a moment there.”
    “You are in a bit of a state, aren’t you? Do remember that although you are somewhat secluded back here, you are still serving Her Majesty’s Royal Navy.”
    “Apologies, sir. I’ll ensure that I don’t grow complacent back here.”
    “Glad to hear. Right, how are the engines holding up? You’ve had no further problems I trust?”
    “Still a tad temperamental, but they’ve been functioning far better than they were.”
    Folkard strode over to one of the workstations and peered at the gauges and mumbled something under his breath. Fenn was desperately trying to stay alert but the lethargy was pulling at him.
    “Well, everything seems to be reading well, correct pressure… Yes. I have navigated a course that puts us out of range of the aether vortex now, so there shan’t be any trouble from now on. You must make sure that such problems in here are avoided in future. For example, had a Russian ironclad been following us…”
    Fenn’s ears pricked up at those words. Folkard turned from the controls and stared at him, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully.
    “Sir, we would be able to avoid an ironclad’s attention with ease, even if the Russians had our exact location and route,” Fenn said, his voice shaking.
    “Why on Earth would the Russians ever have such delicate information? I need not remind you of the importance of the secrecy of our excursion in the aether.”
    “Well, hypothetically speaking, sir.”
    “Well within your hypothesis, please elaborate on how the Russians could possibly have access to such information?”
    “I’m not sure, sir. I…”
    “But it is your theory, is it not, Seaman?” Folkard snapped, cutting him off at the quick. “An odd theory, I must say. But perhaps you have experience in the area.”
    Fenn froze, heart in his throat. The deception could not continue. “Sir, I have something to admit, as you must have guessed.”
    “Enlighten me, Mister Fenn,” Folkard said, his face frighteningly impassive.
    “During shore leave, in London, I was ambushed by Russian agents. They seemed to know so much about who I was; that I had served on board Sovereign …”
    “I’ve been able to feel your guilt, Fenn! I’d prayed for the sake of the Navy that your trouble was nothing of magnitude, but now I see you for what you are!” Folkard’s voice bellowed through the engine room, causing Fenn to retreat from his attentive posture.
    “No, sir, I…” He took a step back and lost his footing as one of his shoes was drawn to a low laying pipe by its magnets. He quickly righted himself, banging his arm on the speaking tube and knocking the cap open in the process. He straightened himself up; he could not look weak in front of Folkard. “Sir, they beat my ribs, breaking a couple I’m sure. They threatened my family! But they only wanted to know about this mission. They…know Professor Stone is alive. Believe me, sir, I did not want to tell the Russians anything, but…” He swallowed hard. “I meant to use his alias, but the threats were too much. I…I am sorry!”
    Folkard was silent for a few moments, his eyes boring into Fenn. The young seaman had heard much about the captain’s wrath, served with him on Sovereign for long enough. This was it; he would be strapped in irons as soon as they reached Mars.
    “Does the oath that you swore on your country mean nothing to you?” Folkard asked, his voice level with menace. “Count yourself lucky that you are required to maintain this engine room. Had this been under different circumstances, you’d be rotting in the brig!” Folkard drew himself