The Prisoner's Dilemma by Sean Stuart O'Connor

wrist. He braced himself and gave a firm heave. The friction plate sparked and to his amazement and relief the rocket shot manically upwards, high into the night sky, a wild trail of sparks and flames gushing behind it. There were many hearts that soared along with it but these same hearts were broken almost immediately as it became clear that the rocket’s very speed had taken it too high through the wind. It now burnt out in a blazing flash, well before it reached the waiting rescuers on the shore.
    * * * 
    Dunbeath jerked his head away from the brass eyepiece, blinded by the sudden glare that had pierced the storm’s blackness. In an instant the ever-burning embers of the Urquhain Rage flared up in him unchecked. Who were these damned people that had stopped him taking a reading? He rubbed his eye and stepped back to the telescope. He had moved to adjust the setting when a vast sheet of lightning drenched the bay and he looked coldly down at the ship in the sudden glare, a couple of furlongs or more off the village, and saw it held fast in the murderous grip of two lines of hidden rock. He looked again, expressionless and without a trace of concern for the people that must be so terrified on board. Instead, a righteous anger surged through him once more and with it came a poisonous, vengeful wish came to see for himself the stupid vandals that had interrupted his vital research.
    He lowered the great telescope until it pointed downwards, now towards the ship. He swiveled the eyepiece around for the shortness of the new focus and put his eye to it again. In the moonlight he could see blurred images of panicked sailors, running on the listing deck and he stepped back and brought the minor adjustment bar down.
    Now he had it in focus. He swung the image right and slowly ranged over the mayhem the terrible storm had wreaked. He moved right again and came to a sudden stop. Filling the image was a tall, striking figure, standing with his arms crossed in front of him, deep in thought. The man’s air of authority was extraordinary. Instead of sharing in the crew’s blind confusion there was something almost supernaturally calm about him and Dunbeath watched in amazement as he remained, almost rooted to the spot, completely still amongst the chaos.
    Dunbeath focused again. He now saw the man look up as two sailors had clearly answered an order and were bringing a woman to stand in front of him, their hands under her arms. She was covered only in a long white dress and as she came into theforeshortened image Dunbeath could see that she was a young, slim girl. And, extraordinarily beautiful.
    At an order from the man the sailors began to strap lifesavers around the girl’s waist and chest and a small wooden spar across the shoulders at the back of her neck. They fastened them expertly and finished by tightening light ropes under her arms.
    Dunbeath then saw the man lean forward to say something in her ear. He spoke for some seconds. She seemed rigid as she heard him out and made no sign of responding. Dunbeath could only imagine that she was frozen in terror.
    The tall man hesitated for a second. Then he moved his head forward once more. Again he leant down as if to say something in her ear; but now he turned his head slowly towards her - and kissed her cheek.
    The girl’s manner changed in an instant. She lifted her head with a sudden, furious movement and took a step backwards. Then she angrily wrenched her arm from the sailor’s grip and Dunbeath saw as she brought it high above her shoulder. She seemed to twist to stare upwards, full into the man’s eyes and then brought the flat of her hand down hard on the side of his face. The giant seemed to falter for a second but immediately recovered himself and smiled at her in reply.
    Dunbeath pressed closer to the eyepiece, astonished that he could be seeing a fight at a time like this. Surely this was no time to be settling scores, they would all