“It’s so built that any jolt or tilting is overcome before it reaches the operator’s hand.”
“I’ve heard of such marvels,” said Nancy with deep interest. “Much like the floating studios which radio companies use to counteract sound.”
“Something of the same idea,” said Major Reed.
They were shown the laboratory, a small pharmacy and some contagious wards. The double-deck bunks were hung from stanchions. There were dental chairs and protected sections for psycho-neurotic cases. In fact, everything was there to make a miniature hospital.
“Maybe we’ll get a chance to work in one of these on the way back,” said Shorty.
“This one will probably be in use before we get over,” Major Reed told them. “Among so many passengers there’ll no doubt be some who will need attention on the way.”
“If you need help let us know,” said Nancy when they thanked the young doctor who had shown them through.
So the carefree days slipped by. The air was bracing; the food excellent. Nancy felt her skirts grow a bit tighter at the waist, and knew she was gaining weight. She didn’t object, for she was sure much hard work and a rationed diet would soon reduce her to the old measurements.
There were games of all sorts, long walks along the decks, new acquaintances to broaden life’s horizon, and every night dancing for those who liked the bright lights of indoors. Nancy and whoever she happened to be with, generally chose the deck with its stars and glimpses of their convoy. There was a hilarious celebration when they crossed the equator and another when they crossed the international date line. They began to feel then that they were truly in another sort of life. Before reaching port they had left the budding summer of their own hemisphere for the approaching winter of this strange southern world.
Then one noon Nancy and Mabel stood at the rail and saw their first flying fish.