The dubious look on Stephen’s features likely spoke volumes in and of itself, all things considered. “I have plenty of faith in people.” His tone was a little bland as he returned his attention to the books before him, carefully notating his thoughts in the margins as he continued, “When it comes to the lengths of human stupidity, there is surely no limit to what they can manage.”
He glanced up, knowing full well his jovial and naive counterpart would not take kindly to such a pessimistic outlook. “As for the kind of faith you require – I think I shall leave it to the men to hold on to such hopes. Their prayers grant them ease of mind and I would not take it from them – but I am not a man who is comforted by anything short of facts and figures, Jack. I cannot blindly believe – especially not when the numbers and the history behind them stack up like this.”
He shook his head, and stoppered his quill before he ended up making a spot on the paper. He knew that Jack’s enthusiasm was like a hurricane to these men – something that blew through and stirred them all into action as if to do anything but heed the winds would lead to sheer disaster. Yet all Stephen could see was pride, a catastrophic loss in profit and men, and an ambition that could yet see them all ruined.
“The results speak for themselves,” He stated tiredly, “But if you believe faith and hope will pull us through this, who am I to argue? We both know I’m no sailor, so by all means, carry on.” He huffed irritably, “It’s not as if I can stop you.” He’d sworn not to be bitter – and here he was, chewing bile all the same. It was phenomenal, the way this man could rile him in a fucking minute when he put his mind to it.
Ocean Archive 