Chapter 22: Back to Sea Part 2

"No, it isn't the camera, it's the way you use the camera. See how the roughness of the hull contrasts with the dress. And the town in the background of this one looks like she's standing in the midst of lights. Your photos make me see the world differently. Thank you." Cal stood up and gathered the photos to hand to Pentam.
"No, those are yours. I made two sets of prints. It's the least I can do after all the help you've given me."
Cal put her hand on his shoulder. "I don't know how to thank you." She left him with an odd expression and went looking for Henrichs to arrange getting the gown and other fancy clothes stored safely.
Sir Shillingsworth saw her on the deck and laughed so hard Cal spun around to see if it was truly him.
"You look just as lovely as in that gown." He said when he regained control.
"Are you sure you didn't hit your head?" Cal peered at him.
"Let's just say I'm happy that you've kept yours. Captain Cully has told me it will be a week or two before we reach the Sargasso Sea. I hear Monky is missing your company."
"Thanks, Father." Cal scurried off to stash her satchel in her berth. She grabbed her earplugs and descended into the belly of the ship.
"Ah, Missy, good to have my helper back. You enjoy your shore time?"
"It was interesting."
"Always is, Missy, always is." He pointed over to the corner. "Grab the grease and give those bearings a dose while I adjust the water flow."
They worked through the day. Monky explained that starting and stopping the engine took extra care as the pressure could change rapidly.
The next few days, Cal was as happy as she could ever remember being. She pulled out the photos every night after she'd meticulously cleaned her hands.
Pentam had told her she didn't need to choose.
***
The ship shook and Cal considered checking it out, but nothing else happened so she relaxed. Sleep had barely reclaimed her when shouting woke Cal again. She threw a dress over her head and went out to make sure the ship wasn't sinking.
Monky and a crowd of sailors huddled around a moaning figure on the deck.
"Ye don't want to look, Missy. It ain't pretty." Monky stood between her and the huddle.
"What happened?"
"Was greasing the pistons when the ship took that bump. His arm got chewed up something awful."
Cal winced. The big pistons were nerve wracking to work near.
"Will he be all right?"
"Depends on what ye mean. The purser's coming t'look. He might live. Don't know if he'll want to."
"OK, back to work. I'll let you know as soon as there's something to know." Henrichs appeared on deck with the purser in tow.
"Monky, can you manage the engine room for now?"
"Not really, ma'am. I can barely stand straight."
"I can manage it." Cal stepped forward. "As long as we're just steaming straight on, I'll be fine. I won't do anything dangerous."
"All you do is watch the pressure. No grease, you don't go near the engine."
"No, ma'am."
"Off you go then." Henrichs sighed. "And thank you."
Cal changed her clothes, grabbed her ear plugs and headed down. The engine room, which felt exciting and welcoming with Monky at her elbow, clattered ominously like a monster gnashing its teeth. She straightened her shoulder and looked at the pressure. It was high; she opened the water valve to cool it off. Most of the night she alternated between adjusting the valve and stoking the fire. At some point, she realized she needed to back off on whatever she was doing before it reached the pressure she wanted. She slowed down and paid attention to the lines in her mind's eye showing the dance between heat and pressure. After that she relaxed into a calmer rhythm.
Monky startled her when he put a hand on her shoulder.
"Go sleep, Missy. Ye did fine."
Cal crawled up to her berth, and forced herself to clean up before she fell into her bunk and closed her eyes.
A knock on the door woke her. The light from the porthole suggested she'd slept at least partly through the day.
"Captain's compliments, but he'd like to see you on the bridge." Sam stood outside the door when she'd dressed and opened it.
"Am I in trouble?"
"Not for me to say, Miss." But he shook his head slightly and Cal's heart slowed down a little.
Sam led her up to the bridge. She'd never been up this ladder before. Sam knocked on the door.
"Miss Cal, Captain."
Cal walked onto the bridge, immediately distracted by the levers, wheels and other things; she couldn't guess their purpose.
"I hear I owe you a debt for keeping the engines running."
"How is he doing?"
"The purser gave him morphine and cleaned up the shoulder as best he could. He's not a surgeon. We have to wait now to see if it heals or infection sets in." Captain Cully leaned over a dial beside the large wheel and adjusted it slightly. The sailor holding it nodded.
"That's horrible."
"Going to sea is dangerous, Miss Cal. Accidents happen. We do our best to prevent them, but we shipped out with only two engineers. I'd hoped to find another at Finches Harbour, but no luck. Now we have one engineer." Captain Cully wiped his forehead and sighed.