The Kincade jerked involuntarily, breathing in, coughing, and spitting out water. Buson was standing over him with a bucket in one hand the other on Kincades chest.

"Settle, lad. You had quite a knock," Boson said.

"Water," Kincade asked.

"More? To drink or to wear? Lad? I guess you'll be fine," Boson smiled.

"What happened? Why am I in the boiler room?" Kincade asked, looking around at his familiar prison. Boson's jerked his head towards Wallace, holding his forefinger to his lips.

"What happened? You have the gall to ask what happened? Oh, my lovely, you are a special creature," Wallace stated in a quiet and measured tone.

"What did you expect with your illegal imprisonment of this innocent man... of me? I am honor-bound to seek escape and recompense," Kincade said, getting to his feet and standing before Wallace, defiance in voice and posture.

"Lad, careful. You have set course for the shallows." Boson barked a warning.

"Oh, his course is set. And the rocks are under the bow! Don't think I did nee see your part in this, Boson. Your reckoning is comin'," Wallace warned, finger pointed at Boson but eyes focussed on Kincade.

"What. Exactly, can you do? To either of us." Kincade spat the words.

"What. Exactly, can I do to either of you?" Wallace parroted as Kincade looked at him, steely-eyed.

"Nothing, Wallace!" Kincade answered the question calmly.

"I have sent letters to the authorities, and they shall facilitate my release as my proxy. And, furthermore, I shall make it my singular purpose to ensure that you are held to account for your excesses." Kincade continued.

"Letters? What letters?" Wallace rolled his head and pulled a document from a jacket pocket.

"Like this one." Wallace shoved the letter into Kincade's chest.

"But. But. How." Kincade said, glancing at the letter he had written and entrusted to Boson to deliver. Wallace began to laugh at Kincade's confusion.

"Oh, my lovely, you are here under quite legal means and documentation. The Sydney side coppers were angry that they had been sent out to the harbor heads on a fool's errand." Wallace coughed out through mocking laughter.

"First, my lovely, we left port while you were taking your little nap," Wallace gestured with his hands and circled Kincade with slow, measured steps.

"That's not possible. The authorities would have had me released." Kincade replied, his shoulder remained square and back.

"My lovely, they did not. You. Are. Legally. A. Criminal. You are serving out your sentence here with us, in this lovely opulence, as you so eloquently put it," Wallace said, gesturing to the walls with outstretched arms. Kincade dropped his head to his chest, blinking rapidly,

"No. No. Noooo. This can't be right." He looked up into Wallace's face and his cold eyes.

"Secondly," Wallace reached forward with one hand, grabbing Kincade by the collar, and smashed his balled-up fist squarely into Kincade's face, knees buckling below him; Kincade fell to the deck.

"Well, my lovely, did I not give you a clear enough demonstration of the consequences for breaking my rules," Wallace stated aloud. He strode across the room to the bay door lock and release lever. He wrenched it over, opening the doors and allowing the wind to pour into the boiler room. The sound of the wind roared through the opening into the boiler room, and waters were below.

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Kincade lifted himself up. Kneeling, he tilted his head up, only to see Wallace's hand snap out to grab him by his shirt collar, lifting him up to be thrown towards the bay doors. Kincade landed a few feet from the opening, twisting onto all fours like an ordinary house cat, and positioned his head towards Wallace.

Wallace moved like a cat after a mouse leaped at Kincade and, kicking out the toe of Wallace's boot, drove up into Kincade's upper ribs, knocking him over, hard, onto his back. And inched him closer to the open doors and the sea below. Kincade's right arm slammed against the bay door's hinges. His hand only found the open sky.

"My lovely, I am going to make sure you don't cause me any more trouble," Wallace said and then grabbed Kincade and lifted up over the opening.

"Hold fast, Wallace!" yelled Boson. "We need him!"

"Why?" Wallace yelled with a snarl of an angry pitbull.

"He fixes things that I can't. He fixed the decoder," Boson reasoned.

"You ain't the only tinker on board," Wallace retorted.

"You think Tremain Shel is better than me?" Boson asked. Wallace looked into Kincade's face. His own face glowing red from the strain of holding Kincade aloft. Then, with a yell, he dropped Kincade to the deck.

"Boson, my lovely, I already held back your full punishment. And now, you're telling me you are less useful than this fool?" Wallace kicked Kincade again.

"Now, now. Wallace, we are both sorry for the circumstances of this night. I promise you that you will not have any more problems with us. So, let's just leave this night be," Boson held out his palms and bowed his head. Wallace took a deep breath, held it briefly, and breathed out through his nose.

Kincade looked at Wallace as Boson pleaded for leniency. Wallace stood over him, dressed in what the Steamspire would call gentleman's garb. His boots looked to be of the finest leather. His pants were made of moleskin and at the neck of the cotton shirt. A silk cravat tied at his nape. Around his waist, he wore a simple leather belt that held that gaudy bowie knife.

Kincade reached up, placing one hand on Wallace's shoulder to pull himself up. With his free hand, he punched Wallace square in the jaw, knocking him back a single step.

"Aw, my lovely," Wallace snarled. "In the streets I come from, a mother greets her bairn with a love tap like that," Wallace reared back and head-butted Kincade. Kincade's hands dropped to his side. He staggered and took a half step back towards the open door.

"You will not accept your position in life, will you? My lovely." Wallace's fist snapped out, hitting Kincade square in the middle of his face. The crunch of his nose rang like a bell made of two bricks slapped together. Kincade tottered unexpectedly, lost his balance, and landed on his arse. Steering forward into space, the ringing in his ears and the blood falling down his face were so far away.

"I am a free man, damn you," whispered Kincade.

"I will teach to your place… slave," Wallace hissed the words, reaching down for his knife and patting his empty scabbard.

"Looking for this?" Kincade held up the knife. The fight to remain conscious and aware was continuing. But he had a knife and a plan, okay, a goal.

Wallace reached out and wrenched the knife from Kincade's grasp.

"I will have your eye for my trouble, slave," Wallace held the back of Kincade's head by the hair and rested the point of his knife close to Kincade's eyeball.

"I need him to be able to see, Wallace," Boson shouted, running to the two men, pushing Wallace off Kincade as he dropped to the ground. Wallace lashed out at Boson. He knocked him to the deck, following up with his boot against Kincade's ribcage once, twice. Kincade curled his body into a horseshoe shape. The second kick was accompanied by the sound of a log splitting.

"That'll be only the start, my lovely," Wallace spat on Boson. He then moved to Kincade, grabbed him by the top of his head, and heaved him up. Kincade flung out his arm and punched Wallace in the cut again, but Kincade's strength was spent, and his fist only tapped Wallace.

"You're no fighter, slave." Wallace hit Kincade again, his face swelling in response. Wallace dragged Kincade over to the firebox and kicked open the door. He leaned in so that his face was next to Kincade's ear.

"I want to cut your throat, but this will have to do, my lovely," Wallace lent over Kincade.

"I am a free man, and I will get back home," Kincade mumbled defiantly.

"Not anymore, my lovely," Wallace said as he lent over Kincade again. Then, leaning back, he placed his hand on Kincade's brow and held back his head, exposing Kincade's throat.

"This is going to hurt you. A lot," chuckled Wallace. Kincade could see the knife in Wallace's hand, holding the blade. The carved octopus pommel glowed red before his eyes.

"When did he put that in the fire." Kincade thought just as an intense burning sensation started on the side of his face. Mercy granted Kincade's silent screams, and darkness took him for the second time today.