Procul grabbed on to the rope latter, climbing as it swumg back and forth. He pulled himself aboard, Steigh right on his tail. The crewmen stopped and stared at their commander, and then quickly remembered to salute. Steigh, who had clearly had his daily dose of authority, pretended to ignore them. They made their way into Procul's modest, though uniquely elegant cabin. He removed a blanket from a lump on his desk to reveal the ornate phonograph.
"Is this is a joke, Procul?" said Steigh.
"No sir," Procul said solemnly. He slowly began to turn the hand-crank, and, slowly but surely, the phosphoric screen came alive, showing a large, green blob in the center. Steigh removed his pipe and walked closer to peer over Procul's shoulder. As Procul turned the crank, the dots began to reduce themselves: they sharpened and manifested themselves: the dot in the center became smaller. Part of the former blob became a completely separate entity, one slightly larger than the central dot, moving slowly away from the central dot. Procul released the hand crank, and the spinning horned slowly ceased as dots fadeded to black. Steigh stared disbelievingly for a moment more.
"What-" He regained his composure, putting his pipe back in his mouth. "What does it show?"

Presently, Procul turned around and walked straight out the door. Steigh marched briskly after him, smoke puffing from his pipe. Procul looked up to the sky directly above them. Steigh looked to Procul for a moment, then followed his gaze. For a few moments, he saw, but did not comprehend. Suddenly, his mouth fell the slightest bit open as the image registered. A mid-sized airship drifted slowly away from Procul's vessel.