The room upstairs is disappointingly quiet. Only His Amused Lordship sits within, reading a penny dreadful and chortling.

'There you are, at last!', he roars amiably. 'Do sit down. The others couldn't wait. An Overgoat-smuggling ring and a lovestruck curate, I understand. So I spoke on your behalf. Sound academic mind. Resourceful sort. That kind of thing. The others agreed that you're our [genderdescriptionsimple].

'Now, I don't know how much you recall about the Dilmun Club. But we're a geographical society. Maps and expeditions and suchlike. We have a truly critical voyage planned, but we need only the very best explorers. Cream of the crop, you understand. And we've agreed to give you the chance to prove yourself. So, take these charts and be off. Go and have a poke about the Unterzee and bring back samples. Write respectable monographs. That sort of thing. Show us you're up to it. But watch out for that bore Orthos. He's commissioned a fleet of research vessels to the same purpose. And he doesn't like competition.'

The charts he passes over show two islands relatively close to London, and one far away in the Sea of Voices. They also show haemovorous mermaids, sea-dragons and a three-headed swan. But still - exploration and scientific discovery. And this will do your academic reputation the power of good. It could even relieve any difficulties you may be having with the University. You should go to your lodgings and consider your preliminary researches.