He turned away from the window, a deep frown furrowing his brow. “We have just received alarming news by semaphore from Artemis, one of our sister ships.” For the last few days, Arabella had noticed the tiny wavering specks of other ships in the distance, but had not known that any of them were close enough for semaphore communication. “It seems that Fort Augusta is experiencing a serious native uprising.”
Arabella tried not to overreact to this unpleasant news. Occasional native uprisings were simply part of the English experience on Mars, but Fort Augusta was the largest English settlement in St. George’s Land, and the nearest city to her family plantation. “How serious?”
“The port is entirely closed. Artemis was the last ship out, and was forced to flee without taking on cargo.” Arabella’s heart went cold at this detail. “Her captain has elected to return to Earth empty rather than risk the safety of his ship and crew by returning to port.” He shook his head. “Vesta was burned where she stood, and the fate of her crew is unknown.”
Arabella’s hands flew unbidden to her mouth. “Oh, dear!” A thousand horrid images crowded her mind. The Customs House in flames. Michael with a rifle at the manor house door, the house surrounded by angry Martians with their swords and forked spears. And what of dear Khema? Would she have been slaughtered by the rebels for working with the English? “We must go to their aid immediately!”
The captain’s grim expression soured still further. “Diana is a ship of commerce, Miss Ashby, not a ship of war. Though Company ships can be requisitioned by the government in case of conflict, we have not yet received any such instructions. So, at the moment, we are free to choose our own course of action, but if we remain in the vicinity for long we may find ourselves conscripted.”
“We cannot simply turn back!” But as soon as the words departed her lips, Arabella wished to draw them back. No amount of anxiety for her brother could justify such impertinence on the part of a mere passenger.
However, before she could attempt a retraction, the captain shook his head. “Indeed we cannot.” He did not seem even to have noticed her impudence; instead, his gaze seemed directed inward. “We are already on short rations, after our unfortunately extended passage. An attempted return to Earth without resupply would surely end in death by dehydration for all of us.” Now the captain’s attention returned to Arabella. “Which is why I have asked you here.”
Arabella blinked. “Sir?”
The captain straightened, folding his hands behind his back. “Despite my many passages to Mars, my experience of the planet itself is scant, and the same is even more true of my officers. Negotiations with the colonial government, not to mention the natives, are carried out by the Company’s factors. But you were born and raised here.” His stiff pose seemed to soften now, and a small note of entreaty entered his voice—a tiny departure from his usual masterful demeanor, which she might never have noticed had she not spent so many days in close company with him during his convalescence. “I hold out some hope that you, with your unique background, might have some insights into the situation that could resolve our dilemma.”
“I … I see.” After the revelation of her true identity, it had been with great relief that Arabella had confessed all to the captain—her personal history, her recent adventures, and her current fears about her brother. He had expressed sympathy for her plight and had promised to provide whatever help he could, so long as it did not interfere with his duties to the Honorable Mars Company. But now their positions seemed to have been reversed, and the responsibility laid upon her narrow shoulders seemed completely insupportable. She strove to bear up under the burden. “Tell me more about the problem.”
“It is appallingly simple. We cannot return to Earth, or even remain in orbit above Mars for long, because we will shortly exhaust our stores of food and water. We cannot land at Fort Augusta because the port is closed. And we cannot land anywhere else because Fort Augusta is the only settlement on Mars with furnaces of sufficient capacity for an airship of Diana’s size.”
“I thought the purpose of our stop at Paeonia was to make charcoal for our landing?”
“For our landing, yes. But no merchant ship can profitably carry sufficient stores of coal, never mind charcoal, for both a safe landing and a successful launch, even given Mars’s lesser gravitational attraction. Once landed, we require the assistance of a furnace to return to the interplanetary atmosphere carrying sufficient coal for our landing at Earth.”
With a touch on the bulkhead behind her, Arabella drifted over to Aadim’s desk, where the map of St. George’s Land was already spread out. “What, exactly, is required of the furnace?”