The collar of Emma's jacket slapped against her face and shoulder as she stood at the railing of the Vicious Fall, leaving the comfort of the wheelhouse to walk outside, a task she demanded of the officer of the watch, including her own watch. Pulling the collar up around her neck, hoping it would fight off the biting cold, the winds pushed her to wobble from side to side of the decking that ran around the lower exposed cabin jutting out of the balloon.

The best views from the Vicious Fall were aft of the rail. The world stretched out for miles. The walkway under the main balloon connected the crew to the outside world from the interior cabin. These cabins focused on the ship's operations, and in addition to the wheelhouse, there was a boiler room where the fire stokers would shove coal in exchange for fire. The walkway was perfect for a single watch stander kept a view aft and weather eye out for anything that could creep up from behind or below.

The tears welling up in Emma's eyes, she could see the watchstander at the rail who had not noticed her. Fishing around in the pocket of her jacket. She pulled out a set of simple goggles with two distinct monocles encased in shallow tubes. The Tubes, in turn, were connected by a leather nose strap and placed over her head, defeating the winds insistently.

Emma searched her memory for the name of the person in a hat. The hat has some side flaps flapping freely and furiously against the head. Joking to herself, Emma imagined a bird that had mounted this person's head in an attempt to fly away while still holding on to their noggin, which was sure to be a grand prize for the imagined bird.

"Sharon!" Emma yelled.

The women respond with a bit of hop and drop the binoculars. Luckily, they were on a strap and dropped down onto her front.

"Hrmph," Sharon responded, putting her own goggles on.

"How are we looking?" Emma asked, chuckling as she slapped Sharon on the shoulder.

"Nothing more than a few birds on the seas or in the skies," Sharon yelled.

Emma scanned the skies. She walked to the port side railing and opened a box attached to the decking rail. She picked up her own telescope from inside the compartment by her foot. Looking towards a cloud bank, signaling a growing storm and slowly scanning from one end of the bank to the other.

"Sharon?" Emma enquired

"Aye, Captain," Sharon replied

"Keep an eye on that cloud bank," Emma commanded.

"What, that one?" Sharon looked off at the growing squall. "They would have to be twice cursed and crazy to fly in that!"

"Still, just to be safe. The South Pacific is no place to guess and hope for safety. I hear there be pirates about, aye?" Emma replied, delivering yet another shoulder slap, and headed back inside.

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Emma stepped back into interior decks nestled away inside the cavity of the balloon. For a moment, stopped and took a deep breath, letting the hum of the engines send vibrations throughout the ship. Emma took a deep breath, and her shoulders dropped slightly. All life onboard synced with the engine's rhythm and the ship's roll and sway. Finding herself in the Falls mess with aromas of cooking drawing Emma in, and through the door, she noted most of the crew were here playing cards, singing, and eating. Amelia and Hutchens sat at a table, away from these groups, talking about a meal just before them.

Emma approached, and Amelia stood up, holding her hands, palms up, with a broad smile.

"Darling Emma, it's wonderful to see you today," Amelia said.

"Emma, life aboard ship seems to agree with you," Emma replied.

"Yes, it's been quite a wonderful journey, and Reggie has been such a wonderful man," Amelia said, tilting her head towards Hutchens. As she did, a smile flashed on her face.

"Just helping where I can," Hutchens interrupted.

"Nonsense. You've done more than anyone could have asked. You're a lovely man," Amelia countered. She moved over to the sitting Hutchens and brushed her hand against his cheek.

"And we are still looking for my brother, aren't we?" Emma offered the question.

"Quite right you are, there," Hutchens replied smartly as he sat up straight and swept his hands down the front of his shirt. Emma also noted Amelia as she raised her hand to cover her mouth and lowered her gaze to the tabletop and back to look at Hutchens.

"Chicken. Killed it myself. Put up more of a fight than food otter, mind. But, it roasted up well," Mr. Wolf placed a plate with a golden baked chicken surrounded by sweet orange Kumera, potato, and carrots on the table. Next to that, he had placed three plates.

"You serve," Mr. Wolf instructed Hutchens, then returned to his Kitchens.

"Well, then, Emma. Would you do us the honor of dining with us?" Hutchens asked.

Emma replied silently by sitting down at the table. Hutchens took up a plate of food and gently scooped a couple of spoonfuls onto his plate. Next, he speared a Kumera on a fork, smelling the lump of cooked vegetable and tasting it like a child taking the first lick of a winter's day ice cream. Then, he shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

Amelia had almost cleared her plate and lifted a napkin to her mouth.

"I am quite surprised by the quality of the food your Mr. Wolf can cook. I had always imagined that the food onboard these vessels would be spartan and utilitarian," Amelia offered.

"Yet, this is a bang-up meal worthy of the club back home." Hutchens offered, shoving another fork full in his mouth. Emma watched Hutchens happily eat his meal.

"I put a great store in the maxim that a well-fed, well-treated crew will follow you to the ends of the earth," Emma replied.

"The adventurer Captain Cook proved that good food, on a long journey, preserves the humors and fortifies the spirits. I have often wondered where we would be without his wisdom," Hutchens replied.

"You mean that man who brought the red coats?" Emma said in an accusing tone and narrowing eyes.

"Of course. The man who brought the wonders of modern England to the dominion and greater South Pacific? Why would you ask such a question?" Hutchens asked, oblivious to Emma's whitening knuckles.

"Yes. I really do agree it's a shame we don't have the wonders of London in our sleepy little country," Emma said, looking at Hutchens. Over his shoulder, she saw Sharon rush into the mess. The din of the crew continued, unbounded. Emma watched the look on Sharon's face, which was not good.

"Mates, where is the Captain?" Sharon called out, but the crew was too absorbed in either Wolf's roast chicken meal or the conversation of good fellows to pay any heed.

Emma stood. Sharon saw her raise her hand and cup them around his mouth.

"It's the Dresden!" She yelled at the top of her voice.

For a moment, time slowed, and the crew fell silent. Then, with a rush of sound and movement, time returned and started.