Journey to the Heart of Luna - Andy Frankham-Allen [31]
The lab had been empty of bodies, just more collateral damage. Bedford had little interest in the advance of science, except for where it contributed to the continued might of the British Empire, but he expected that Doctor Grant’s flyer would have a well-stocked laboratory, and he was not disappointed. Bedford could not identify most of the equipment, although he was certain he did see a new ratchet-operated aether wheel. Smaller than the one on the Sovereign bridge, but Bedford would wager it was no doubt a more advanced design. They soon continued on, through the common area to search the captain’s quarters. At least, to Bedford’s mind the small room on the port side would have been the captain’s quarters had this been a more official ship, but as it stood it was quite clear that the room they had entered was the personal quarters of Doctor Grant.
The room was, as anticipated, quite a state. Papers lay strewn across the floor, the cot ripped from its moorings.
Once more there was little of interest to Bedford, but Stevenson had other ideas. He walked deeper into the room, to peruse the scattered papers. After a few moments, and mindful of the depleting supplies of oxygen, Bedford stepped further into the room, leaving the ever-nervous Miller on guard at the door, and tapped Stevenson on the shoulder.
“If you are quite finished, Mister Stevenson, may I remind you that we are not here to gather information, but rather to discover if Miss Somerset survived the crash.”
“Yes, sir,” Stevenson said, looking up from the papers, “sorry, sir, but it occurs to me that if Miss Somerset is not here then we can at least return to the Sovereign with information that may be of some help to Professor Stone.”
Bedford had to admit, to himself at least, that he approved. “Be that as it may, we have only a limited supply of oxygen…”
“That’s the thing, though, Lieutenant,” Stevenson said quickly, and Bedford did not much care for the interruption, but he did not draw attention to it, after all it would be good for Miller to see the difference between a seaman out of his depth and a seaman born to be an officer. “According to these notes we may not need to find extra canisters,” Stevenson pointed out.
Now Bedford’s interest was piqued. “If you would care to explain?”
“According to Doctor Grant’s notes here, there would appear to be several grottoes and caverns beneath the surface with a gravity of thirty percent to Earth’s. That’s only ten percent less than Mercury, unless I am much mistaken.”
“You are not, mister. I have been to Mercury; traversing the terrain is heavy going, but not impossible. This only confirms the rumours about sub-lunar caverns; however, I fail to see how it assists us in our current predicament. Regardless of the gravity, without an atmosphere we will all be dead within another forty minutes.”
“Agreed, sir, which is why this particular passage will interest you.” Stevenson handed him a sheet of paper and pointed to the passage in question.
“Not only have previous expeditions proved the existence of animals and fungus-like plants, but there are pockets of atmosphere in these sub-lunar caverns. Ah! A serendipitous find, Mister Stevenson.”
“Yes, sir, which means all we need to do is find an entrance to one such cavern.”
Bedford nodded decisively. “Splendid! Let us quickly finish our recce of the Annabelle then and pray we find a cavern before the oxygen fails us.” He turned to Miller and made his way out of Grant’s quarters. “Shape up, Mister Miller, we may yet survive our little excursion.”
The expression on Miller’s sweaty face told Bedford that the young man was unconvinced. Bedford smiled to himself grimly, once he was out of Miller’s line of vision. The young seaman would soon be