"What course, Captain?" Mors was asked as he stepped out of the lift cage.

"Set a heading of 95 degrees from due north," he commanded.

"Aye, aye." The questioning crewman vanished in the direction of the control room. Mors turned to a dejected Bemberger.

"Don't worry, Karl. We'll deal with Robur and free the rest of the prisoners yet."

"But how?" Bemberger asked. "We don't even know where he is!"

"First things first, Karl. Sturm!" Mors addressed one of his engineers. "Get on the wireless. See if you can pick up a news broadcast." Mors turned back to Bemberger. "Where ever Robur is, he'll be visible. In the meantime, come to the navigation room. You two, also, please." Mors indicated Moreau and Dolittle. The small party followed the captain to the navigation room, where Mors spread several charts on the navigation table and began to ponder.

"You can set me down in Africa," Dr. Dolittle said a bit grimly. "I'm afraid I'm rather fed up with the so-called civilized world just now." He sighed. "I'd rather just treat animals."

"That is not impossible," Mors replied. "Do you have a specific point on that continent you would prefer?"

"No, not really," Dolittle said. "Well, somewhere in the middle I suppose. Both the north and south are a bit too civilized just now for me." Mors began to draft a course.

"We can go to the Congo, then. We need more supplies anyhow."

"Begging the captain's pardon," Bemberger said. "Are the Belgians really likely to sell you anything?"

"Who said anything about buying supplies?" Mors smiled beneath his mask. "We'll just take what we need. I have contacts in the interior among the tribes resisting the Belgians, we can set you down there, Doctor."

"Yes, that will be fine." Dolittle tipped his bowler in thanks.

"How is my bear?" Moreau inquired of Mors.

"Blue bear? He's around here somewhere."

"I had wondered," Moreau said. "The bear was an early experiment in genetic engineering." he explained to the puzzled Bemberger.

"I had heard you were dead," Bemberger told Moreau.

"That is not surprising," Moreau replied gravely. "I preferred the anonymity that it brought, although it seems trouble found me anyhow."

"The reports were that you were seen dead," Bemberger said. "How did you survive?"

"Ah, poor Mr. Prendick. I feel sorry for him. I suspect he was seriously unhinged by the circumstances following the sinking of the Lady Vain. I regret that the care provided to him was not better, but I am a skilled vivisectionist, surgeon and genetic manipulator. My ability to heal shattered minds, however, is not as good as I would like. As the circumstances in Mr. Prendick's story reveal, I suppose. I was certainly badly injured, and would have died had not Dr. Doolittle, who had never met Mr. Prendick, returned from abroad in time. After that I turned to different techniques to create a better man." He shrugged. "Alas, it was my new techniques that the villain Robur sought to use."

"But what did he want with vile weapons?" Bemberger asked.

"An excellent question, Karl," Mors added. Moreau's reply was thoughtful.

"I am not quite sure. Perhaps to hold the world for ransom, although surely one would require some form of demonstration, and that could rapidly get out of control."

"But he also wanted cures." Mors' statement was not quite a question, but Moreau replied anyhow.

"Yes, he did."

"Then perhaps he would use the weapon and then offer the cure for sale?"

"Possible," Moreau said. "But the cure would be ineffective if not administered promptly, and production would probably require a vast industrial infrastructure."

"Then he would either sell it to a national government… or was working for one." Mors' statement was flat and unsurprised. "We had best find Robur soon, or at least the other hostages. Or Robur might complete some sort of device – and use it."