boys.”
Ah, one of the children who served the senior aviators and learned the ropes. If he was hoping to secure an engineer’s license later, they might as well bring him down here now. “All right. I’llsuggest him to the chief, and if we’re lucky, the deck can spare him. Either way, I’ll take the first’s duties, you’ve got the second’s, and we’ll share the third’s.”
Mary was the third now. Expression hopeful, she asked, “Who will have the privy pipes?”
“You.”
Her face fell. “Hornblow over it all.”
Was that English? Whatever she meant by “hornblow,” it probably wasn’t the sort of noise that Annika associated with the word. “What does that mean?”
“Annika.” Her name was a remonstration. So it must be something vulgar, then. Something she’d have been fined for saying in Manhattan City. When Annika only looked at her, waiting, Mary’s cheeks reddened. She leaned closer and said under her breath, “Poop.”
Well, yes. Annika supposed that it was.
Annika infinitely preferred sewing to studying. It seemed ridiculous, as those two tasks were almost the same. Both required her to sit in the corner of the wardroom, in the armchair near the brightest lamp, yet she still seemed to squint as often over small print as she did a seam. With enough time, bending over a page or a garment stiffened her neck and made her wish for one of the more comfortable chairs beside the bookshelves, or a seat at the game table, where the players stretched while moving a mark or tossing a card, rather than sitting in one attitude for an eternity.
When she sewed, however, none of that discomfort seemed to matter. Studying, she had to force herself to focus, or be easily distracted by everyone else’s activities.
She turned the page of the generator manual, and stifled a sigh as another diagram introduced a host of new words. She already understood how the electrical generator worked, but didn’t knowthe French terms for most of the components. As much as she disliked taking the time to learn them, however—an armature coil and a bobinage d’induit performed exactly the same function, no matter what she called the thing—she would dislike appearing completely ignorant in front of the chief even more.
Luckily, many of the words were similar, because she wouldn’t have much time to look over them. Less than an hour remained until first watch began.
It was still more time than Annika might have spent if Doctor Kentewess hadn’t asked whether she’d be in the wardroom after supper. If not for that—and if Elena hadn’t been clinging to a bucket when Annika had returned to their cabin to dress for dinner—Annika might have taken the advice she’d given to Mary and attempted to sleep again.
If she didn’t fall asleep here. How long had she been looking at this diagram? And the room was so warm. Fighting a yawn, she blinked quickly, trying to concentrate. Her final blink turned into a long, slow nod with her eyes closed.
Voices in the passageway shook her out of it—the doctor’s voice among them. Oh, good. She gladly closed the manual and looked to the door.
A young man with a pointed reddish beard entered. Oh, she’d seen him before—but where? The older man behind him appeared just as familiar, though she recalled him laughing. Had it been on the docks? That seemed right. He’d worn an overcoat and an enormous hat, and he’d been laughing as she and her rescuer walked past their steamcoach…
Oh.
Her stomach dropped through the seat of her chair. She knew who the third man would be, but couldn’t account for the leap of her pulse upon seeing him. His presence surprised her, yes. But why the sudden impulse to flee?
Before his long legs carried him a full step through the door, hisgaze had scanned the wardroom and locked on hers. She heard the doctor introducing the three to the navigator and the players at the game table, but Annika had already realized who he must be: David