If anyone panics, Bellamy is going to lose it.
"Is it bad?" Shelly asks behind him.
After two hours of fiddling in the engine control room and then in the electro-technical office, Bellamy has been summoned by Shelly to the bridge. He's completely sweat through his polo, and with the door open the breeze from the bridge is cool. It sticks to his skin, as does his curly black hair. It's better than it obstructing his face though, as he lies on his back looking underneath the captain's chair at the wiring. Bellamy reconnects a circuit and above him, Shelly gasps.
"Captain, please-"
"Sorry," she covers her mouth. "Just, you've got our map back."
Bellamy pulls himself up off the ground and stands next to Shelly. The map is back up, as Shelly had promised. There they are blinking in the middle, 30 nautical miles off course.
"We were blown off course," Shelly realizes. Beside her is a map of the sea, sketched out angles in pencil lining it. "I overestimated the wind."
"How long have we added?" Bellamy asks, looking down at the map.
"Two hours, maybe," Shelly starts to punch in the ports name on the satellite navigator, and then a new total pops up. "We'll get there after dinner."
Bellamy checks his watch. It's closing in on noon. An additional two hours to their nine hour journey makes it as long as if they had not stopped in Dhermi at all.
"Shelly, this isn't going well,"
Her shoulders deflate. She reaches her fingers up, nimbly massaging at her neck. Bellamy doesn't think she's putting in enough elbow grease to actually be successful.
"You're going to have to tell the crew," Bellamy says. His nose twitches. "We're sailing upwind. We might not even make it there by nine if the wind keeps up."
"I know," she huffs.
Bellamy squats down, lowering himself beneath her. This kind of work is pointless, but Bellamy is used to tersely nodding at captains, to lowering his head, to always following them up stairs and leading the way down them.
"People are frustrated," he explains, softening his voice. All of it is as mechanical as his job. He'd make a binder if he wanted anyone but himself to know. "August does not want to move. Audenzia thinks you are messing with her department. Edwin hates that you placed the food order on his behalf, the deck crew are already panicked, and you know how I feel. Something isn't right with the hull. I get it, but the crew isn't happy. They need you to be honest. They need to know that you trust them enough not to panic."
A deep breath shudders through Shelly, and Bellamy breathes out too. He's got her.
"Okay," she says. "I'll let them know after lunch. Make sure they are fed beforehand."
Bellamy pulls himself up again and nods. He crosses out of the bridge toward the stairs leading down.
"Oh, and Bellamy."
He turns around at the sound of her name. Shelly smiles at him.
"Thanks."
He nods, "anytime."
~~~
Edwin slams around the kitchen. The burner is too small, the whole place is too small. He can hear the wind whistling through the smallest gap in the porthole. It should never be open while travelling, and it isn't but he can hear the sound all the same. Or maybe it's the hull that Bellamy keeps bitching about.
