For Queen and Country! [A Space: 1889 Campaign]

Dear Diary,

In the morning I embark for Mars, that beacon of adventure that calls to every red-blooded Englishman. To stride under strange stars, to see decadent Martians in their proud but decayed cities, to stride the deck of a swift, barbaric sky galleon -- It makes my pulse race!!! Of course, Mars is about as far from Mother as possible, which makes it even more attractive, as you well know.

From The Collected Papers of Lord Franklin Blake, KCB, FRGS, Blackstone and Sons, London, Bombay and Syrtis Major, 1972.

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The grey and white RMS Majestic of the White Star, one of their most modern ships, rested on a open grass field of the London Etherport which is just north of the great city. Smartly uniformed crewmen swarmed around, on, and in the ship as it prepared for its journey to the red planet, Mars. Baggage and supplies were being stowed away aft and the passengers, men and women alike, boarded the ship by several steel and wooden ramps forward. Well wishers cheered and a small brass band played giving the scene a sense of joyful anticipation.



The sky was cloudy but clearing as the sun sent it's golden rays across the fields with ever more frequency. The ground was still wet from last night’s rain. The ship's passengers were checking in their baggage, saying their farewells, or waiting in line to board as the purser checked their tickets.

Bill Read stood in the line of passengers waiting to board the White Star ship.

He still couldn't believe he was doing this. Ever since winning that outrageous - and, in retrospect, appalling - game of poker, he had been in something of a haze. First from the unaccustomed hangover - Read was a man who drank, you had to be in the Outback - but rarely did he drink heavily, rarely to excess. Yet, that night, goaded on by the smart comments of his opponent, by the lights and the atmosphere, and above all by the deepseated grief which still burned in his heart, Bill had well and truly tied one on!

Surely it had been by the whim of the gods that he had won. Of course, had he lost, he would have been ruined. Instead, here he was, ready to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.

At times laconic to the point of rudeness, Read stood stoically in the slow moving line, observing those around him. What were their stories? Why did they seek the embrace of a distant planet? There, that young woman - surely she should be enjoying the thrill of the Season! What called her to go on such a journey? And that old, old man - what could possibly offer enough allure to leave the tender comfort of Mother England at a time when he ought, by rights, to be resting, cradled, in her civilized lap?

Ah well, no doubt he would have an opportunity to observe further. And if not - well, not every story has an ending known to its hearers.

Dressed in the highest of fashion, as befitted a man of his status, Blake struck an imposing figure as he boarded the RMS Majestic. He was looking forward to this. Mars was one of the few places he had yet to visit. He'd been to the Americas, all over Africa and Asia. But this would be his first voyage off planet.