Chapter 4: Early Steps Part 2
Pentam breathed slowly through his nose. As important to his ambitions as Sir Shillingsworth was, he could also be extraordinarily irritating.
"Since this expedition is your notion, you may start the planning of what we will need to accomplish our goal. I will be most interested in how you plan to capture this sea serpent of Lord Calloway's." In private, Sir Shillingsworth's voice dripped with scorn. "I will inform the Society that my next trip to the Cathayn Mountains will be delayed. Given the season, probably by a year."
"I will have a preliminary plan for you by the end of the week." Pentam dropped into the chair at his desk in the corner and pulled his journal toward him.
"I am more interested in quality than speed." Sir Shillingsworth frowned. "A plan is no help if I must redo it."
Pentam clenched his fist, but bit his tongue.
Sir Shillingsworth left the room and Pentam relaxed. He rolled his head to ease the ache in his shoulders. If he wanted to be the famous scientist of his dreams, he needed to keep his position. University graduates in the sciences were churned out in droves, but only Pentam had been chosen to be Sir Shillingsworth's assistant. His previous assistant had a position as curator at a prestigious museum.
He got up and walked over behind Sir Shillingsworth's desk and ran his fingers across the journals lined up on the shelf. The last sea voyage was before Pentam's time, but the man never threw anything away. There.
Pentam pulled out the book and carried it over to his desk. A simple copy wouldn't be enough, but the list from ten years ago would be a good starting place. He opened the book and lost himself in the plans.
Supper was a roast chicken, cooked all day to make it tender. Pentam ate with a good appetite. Food on the expeditions was never this good. This would be his third excursion, and he looked forward to the novelty of a sea voyage. At least he wouldn't be at risk of freezing to death in the Sargasso Sea.
Cal ate slowly, tasting a bit of everything, occasionally nodding to herself, perhaps cataloging the meal as she did the specimens they brought home. He had to admit her talent was extraordinary. As a science student, he'd been expected to be able to draw adequately to record his findings, but he couldn't imagine having either the speed or accuracy of Cal's work.
If she was coming on this voyage, Sir Shillingsworth would be distracted by her presence. Pentam didn't know what it meant to his position, but his stomach curdled. He'd worked hard to learn everything he needed to impress his employer enough to be counted as a full member of the team. Now she would be joining them simply because she was good with a pencil.
In the morning, Pentam headed out to talk to the people in the merchant houses who oversaw the shipping of goods past the region they would be studying. The newest information about their goal was essential.
It turned out the people with the information he needed were all at sea. He left requests for the captains to contact him upon return to port. As he wandered out of the third merchant office, he was waved to the side by a clerk.
"Sorry, but you must wait until they have finished posing for the photograph."
"Photograph?" Pentam's heart speeded up. He'd seen photographs displayed in some of the wealthy homes of those who sponsored the voyages. If he could learn to take pictures like those, he'd have a way to hold his own against Cal.
When the clerk finally let Pentam enter the foyer of the building, the photographer was still packing up his gear.
"Excuse me, Sir." Pentam stopped a careful distance from the equipment. "I am interested in learning about photography."
"You don't look wealthy enough to afford the hobby." The man didn't look up from his packing. His brown hair could have used a trim, but his hands were clean and dexterous.
"I am thinking of using it to record a scientific expedition."
"Interesting." The man handed Pentam a crate, heavier than he'd expected but not unmanageable. "Come with me then."
Pentam followed the man out to a horse-drawn buggy. The photographer packed away the gear like it was fine crystal. He climbed up onto the driver's bench.
"Well, are you coming, lad? Name's Alistair McNaught."
"Pentam Booksdale."
They drove slowly, staying out of the way of faster vehicles. Alistair shook his head at the steam carriages as they passed, making the horse shuffle to the side.
"What do they do if it breaks down?"
"Happens a lot." Pentam pointed to where one had pulled over with two men poking around the boiler. "They have a long way to go before they're as reliable as a locomotive. It's trying to make the engine so small. The parts are more delicate. It doesn't help that most people have no conception of how they work."
"And you do?"