interrupted him abruptly.

When last did you inspect the drawings of Golden Dawn, Nick paused,

taken in full stride and a little off balance.

He frowned as he cast back I walked out of Christy Marine just over a

year ago.  And the darkness of those days settled upon him, making his

eyes bleak.

A year ago we had not even been awarded the contract for the

construction of Golden Dawn.  Charles Gras twisted the stem of his wine

glass between his fingers, and thrust out his bottom lip.  The ship you

have just described to us is very different from the ship we are

building out there.  In what way, Charles?  Nick's concern was

immediate, a father hearing of radical surgery upon his first-born.

The concept is the same.  The mother vessel and the four tank pods, but

- Charles shrugged, that eloquent Gallic gesture, it would be easier to

show it to you.

Immediately after lunch.  D'accord/ Jules Levoisin nodded.  But on the

condition that it does not interfere with the further enjoyment of this

fine meal.  He nudged Nicholas you eat with a scowl on your face, mon

vieux, you will grow yourself ulcers like a bunch of Loire grapes.

Standing beneath the bulk of Golden Dawn, she seemed to reach up into

that low grey snow-sky, like a mighty alp of steel.  The men working on

the giddy heights of her scaffolding were small as insects, and quite

unbelievably, as Samantha stared up at them, a little torn streamer of

wet grey cloud, coming up the Loire basin from the sea, blew over the

ship, obscuring the top of her navigation bridge for a few moments.

She reaches up to the clouds/ said Nick beside her, and the pride was in

his voice as he turned back to Charles Gras.  She looks good?  It was a

question, not a statement.

She looks like the ship I planned Come, Nicholas.  The little party

picked its way through the chaos of the yard.  The squeal of power

cranes and the rumble of heavy steel transporters, the electric hissing

crackle of the huge automatic running welders combined with the roaring

gunfire barrage of the rivetters into a cacophony that numbed the

senses.  The scaffolding and hoist systems formed an almost impenetrable

forest about the mountainous hull, and steel and concrete were

glistening wet and rimmed with thin clear ice.

It was a long walk through the crowded yard, almost twenty minutes

merely to round the tankers stern - and suddenly Nicholas stopped so

abruptly that Samantha collided with him and might have fallen on the

icy concrete, but he caught her arm and held her as he stared up at the

bulbous stern.

It formed a great overhanging roof like that of a medieval cathedral, so

that Nick's head was flung back, and the grip on her arm tightened so

fiercely that she protested.  He seemed not to hear, but went on staring

upwards.

Yes, Charles Gras nodded, and the lank black hair flopped like against

his forehead.  That is one difference from the ship you designed.  The

propeller was in lustrous ferro-bronze, six-bladed, each shaped with the

beauty and symmetry of a butterfly's wing, but so enormous as to make

the comparison laughable.  It was so big that not even the bulk of

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