Ultimately, he also thought that he should abandon this most remarkable display of wildlife and guide his wife back to the waiting zodiacs through that gauntlet of fur seals. This he did without recharging his wet boot with more water and without attracting too much attention from any of the delinquent seals. All that then remained at the end of this odyssey was to equip himself and his wife with a life jacket in readiness for their zodiac taxi-ride back to the ship; there, no doubt, to be reintroduced to the first act of the end of the world. And indeed, this was exactly how it seemed to Alex as he stepped off the zodiac and onto the stern of the Sea Sprite, his mind now stripped of the insulation against reality provided by St Andrews Bay. In fact, he soon felt the need to tell himself that he was possibly being just a little bit negative in harbouring such thoughts, and he sincerely hoped that when he and Debbie attended the next gathering in the lounge this would prove to be the case. And before then, there might even be some better news on the telly. However, there was none…
The first report they heard was on the economic impact of the ‘flu’, which was apparently already way beyond disastrous. With China’s role in world commerce having been eliminated entirely, there was a catastrophic knock-on effect in the rest of the world, now exacerbated by the Grim Reaper’s arrival in so many other countries. Essentially, much of world’s industrial activity was grinding to a halt, if it hadn’t already come to a standstill. Service industries were also suffering hugely, and inevitably the world’s stock markets were in meltdown. The report didn’t carry news of how many investors were jumping out of New York skyscrapers, but given the magnitude of the collapse in share prices being experienced now compared to that seen in the Great Depression, they should have been leaping off window ledges in their thousands. Alex wasn’t inclined to join them, but he did feel sick to the stomach when he thought of what this news could mean for his own personal wealth. It was just as well that the next report on the telly took his mind off these woes – by it having to digest the news that China now seemed to be empty of living humans…
This was the news that formed the first topic of conversation with Roy over lunch. He was as stunned as Alex and Debbie were that the world now didn’t include this giant country. Or that it did, but it lacked any people.
‘Just think,’ he said. ‘Who would have put money on the Chinese becoming extinct before all the world’s sharks? I still can’t believe it.’
‘Maybe they’re just “critically endangered”,’ suggested Alex. ‘You know, there must be some of them left, some soldiers or the like hidden away in nuclear bunkers…’
‘And politicians,’ interrupted Debbie. ‘I can’t believe old Xi Jinpong has succumbed to the flu. Or many of his top party chums. They’ll be hidden away safely somewhere. Either underground or in one of their secret boltholes in the West. Maybe in somewhere like Burgundy…’
The conversation drifted on like this for some time until, just as the three diners were finishing their coffee, Jane’s voice came over the tannoy to announce that the promised ship’s powwow would commence in the main lounge at three o’clock, and that it would be followed by a presentation on Shackleton’s Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition, 1914-1917. The first of these lounge gatherings, thought Alex, might prove even more popular than the second.
It got under way with a welcome from Jane, and then an announcement by the captain himself that he still had no further insights into what was happening in Asia, over and above what was being shown on the news. And the official advice channelled through Stanley was still to ‘just carry on, but keep in touch for any updates to this advice’.
This message didn’t go down too well with a number of the passengers, and one near the front immediately got to his feet to make the point that, considering what was going on, he and his wife wanted to get back to England as soon as possible. They wanted to be with their children and their grandchildren, and it was, this red-faced gentleman said, incumbent on the captain to turn his ship around and get it back to Ushuaia without further ado.
In response to this ‘forceful request’, the captain said nothing, and it was Jane who stepped in to explain why this simply wasn’t going to happen, despite others in the audience indicating that they had similar thoughts to the guy who’d just spoken. For the first time the Sea Sprite’s passengers were going to witness the real Jane, a Jane stripped of all her tact and with an important point to make.
‘I completely understand why you think we should do that,’ she pronounced in an uncompromising tone, ‘but you must understand that if we turn back to Ushuaia now, the only thing that’s certain is that we will end up being stuck there. I mean, you must have seen on the news that international flights are in complete chaos, and the probability that we could get you a seat on a plane back to Britain – even if we could get you back to Buenos Aires – is essentially zero.’
At this point the red-faced man clearly had something to say, but Jane carried on.
‘So, what you’re asking for is entirely impractical and it also undoubtedly ignores the wishes of many of your fellow passengers. I am not going to ask for a show of hands, but I can sense that a large majority of people in this room do not want to go back to Ushuaia – prematurely – and instead they want to continue on an expedition cruise for which they have paid a great deal of money.’
(This statement prompted the nodding of quite a few heads in the room.)
‘And sir, whilst I and my team always strive to do everything we can for our guests, we cannot, unfortunately, split this ship in two, and send one half of it back to Ushuaia while the other continues on its way…’
‘I think that’s unduly rude…’ interrupted Mr Red Face, only to be interrupted himself – by the captain. Because Captain José had swiftly equipped himself with the microphone in order to make a short but uncompromising announcement.
‘Sir, Jane has made very clear why we will not be going back to Ushuaia – just yet. What I now need to make clear is that the Sea Sprite is not under the command of a committee. It is under my command; a situation you implicitly accepted when you boarded this vessel. You must therefore refrain from trying to wrest that command from me. In any way whatsoever.’
Here, the captain smiled disarmingly. Then he went on.
‘I hardly need remind you, sir, but a rebellion against my authority has a name. It is called “mutiny”.’
At that statement, the room fell silent. It also brought to an end any further discussion concerning the possibility of an immediate return to Argentina; and, indeed, an end to the gathering. People clearly realised that there was nothing more to be learnt in this room, but possibly a great deal more to be learnt by returning to their cabins and keeping a watch on the news. Despite its tempting subject matter, Shackleton’s Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition, 1914-1917 might, thought Alex, not even attract a quorum.
He and Debbie were certainly intent on flicking between BBC World News and CNN, and by doing this for the rest of the afternoon, they discovered that there had now been countless deaths in the very south of India, and that most North Koreans were now either dead or making their way to South Korea. Neither Kim Jong-un’s whereabouts nor his vital signs were known. Nor whether he still had any vital signs…
That Kim might now be dead was one of the first topics to be discussed at dinner with Derek, Elaine and Roy. After that, the conversation explored just about every aspect of China’s demise. These ranged from the large sigh of relief from the world’s population of wild animals to the potential benefits of having an appreciably smaller world population of humans – soon, by all accounts, to be much smaller still. Roy also introduced the thought he’d expressed over lunch: that he would never have imagined that the Chinese would become extinct before sharks. And this caused Derek to put forward the opinion that it would be the ultimate irony if it was found that the devastating disease that had eradicated a whole nation was one that had been
passed from sharks to humans as a result of some of those humans feasting on shark’s fin soup. The other diners agreed, but Roy did suggest that the disease – whatever it was – was much more likely to have been picked up from a bat or a pangolin or any of the live animals (formerly) traded in Chinese markets. Elaine agreed, but went on to point out that there might soon be no one to perform the necessary detective work, and maybe soon, no one to care.
It had been a strange meal, and it needed to come to an end. Today’s events had been exhausting for all those at the table, and none of them knew how much more exhaustion tomorrow might bring. So, stumps were drawn and the gang of five returned to their respective cabins. And, if they did what Alex did as soon as he was within reaching distance of his TV’s remote, they would all have learnt that the fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse had now ridden into Iran…
fifteen
Yesterday had been not just scary, but also really frustrating. Stuart had not been able to find Gill, nor anyone else in uniform who was prepared even to speak to him, let alone explain what might be going on. There had clearly been an instruction given to all the service personnel on the base to keep whatever they’d been told within the military family. And even if you’d been granted Class A security clearance in order to do your job, that didn’t make you a soldier or an airman, and you were going to be kept in the dark. The only people Stuart spoke to all day were a couple of civilian contractors in the NAAFI canteen, who, just like him, were at a loss to know what was going on, and more than just a little bit scared.
In the end, Stuart had decided to abandon his search for Gill and for any indication of what was happening on the base, and return to his lonely listening post in the hope of getting an update on what was happening beyond the base. This was when he discovered that China was now a vacant country, which more or less confirmed in his mind that the world was now experiencing an unprecedented, off-the-scale event. It was truly staggering news, and of course it wasn’t the only news. By the time he finally went to bed, he’d also discovered that there were many more deaths in more countries; more countries facing the same – still unbelievable – fate as the now-deceased China, and there was seemingly no end to the spread of the killer disease. One communiqué had even made a reference to a small cluster of deaths in Colombia. But that one Stuart didn’t believe. It had originated in Colombia. And whilst information generated in that country was about a thousand times better than that dreamt up in its immediate neighbour, Venezuela, it was still almost exclusively unreliable. Even when it related to drugs…
It was now six in the morning of the next day, and Stuart was already dressing himself after a super-early – for him – set of ablutions. And as he buttoned up his shirt, he told himself that today, even if he was still unable to track down Gill, he would find out exactly what was going on in Mount Pleasant. It must, he knew, be in response to the carnage taking place around the world, but he still wanted to know precisely what it was that had caused the base’s entire military complement to become automatons overnight, and apparently automatons without a voice. He even repeated this promise to himself aloud, and it was just as he was giving a confirmatory nod of his head to this determined statement that he noticed that there was an envelope on the floor of his room. It was just next to the door, and it must, he thought, have been pushed under it sometime in the night. He also thought that its contents deserved his immediate attention. They did. It was a copy of a short note on air-force-headed notepaper informing him of a meeting to be held in the base gym at nine o’clock, at which all non-military personnel would be given an update on what was happening on the base. It was signed by the base commander, and whilst attendance at the meeting was not described as mandatory, it was referred to as ‘strongly advised’. It didn’t, of course, need to be. This was one visit to the gym that Stuart wasn’t going to miss.
First, though, it was another unhealthy breakfast from the NAAFI to be eaten at his desk, and then another dip into the flood of intercepts that had come in overnight. Not one of them lifted his mood. It seemed that the Chinese pestilence, whatever it was, had now crept into Africa. Although, the more messages and signals he read, the more he realised that this lethal disease wasn’t so much creeping into that continent as overwhelming it in a fast-moving wave. Deaths were already being reported in sub-Saharan Africa, and even Madagascar appeared to be succumbing to the scourge. However, there were a number of intercepts that were even more disconcerting – for Stuart. These included half a dozen originating in Europe, and they seemed to confirm that the flu had arrived in Colombia. That intercept from last night had been correct. And there was even a suggestion in these messages that this terrible disease was already moving into Peru. How long, Stuart thought, would it take for it to make its way down the coast of the continent to the south of Chile, and then into Argentina? On the basis of what he’d seen so far, not very long at all…
Inevitably, when he arrived in the gym, he did so with a multitude of other people, all non-military personnel and all wearing looks of apprehension on their faces. There were builders in their work gear, NAAFI workers in their kitchen whites, some guys Stuart recognised as IT workers – in bad T-shirts and jeans – and any number of assorted other contractors and workers, all dressed in all manner of casual or work clothes. There must have been well over a hundred of these civilians, all now seated on canvas chairs that had been set out in rows in the gym, and all eager to learn just what was going on. They did not have to wait long. At nine o’clock sharp, an RAF officer strode into the gym to take his place behind a lectern at the front of this makeshift auditorium, ready to make his address.
Stuart was not sure of his rank, but taking account of the number of bands on his sleeves and his youthful looks, he reckoned he was probably a lieutenant. Or was that a flight lieutenant? Stuart had not been entirely diligent in learning either his army or his air-force ranks, but he did know that officers were chosen very carefully for a particular job. And when someone was required to impart a certain amount of information but no more, a senior officer would not be selected, but rather a competent junior who could easily claim that he didn’t have access to further and better information. The civilians gathered here, thought Stuart, were going to be told just enough to satisfy their curiosity for now – and so pacify them – but not a great deal more. It was almost a cert…
‘Good morning everybody,’ the ginger-haired officer began, ‘and thank you very much for attending this meeting and for turning up so promptly. I assure you that I will take up as little of your time as I can.’
Here he tried an ersatz smile, which was presumably designed to conceal his trepidation. It was one thing, thought Stuart, to confront an enemy of the state, in the air or on the ground; it was quite another to confront an audience of unarmed but anxious civilians. Nevertheless, he had now parked the smile and he was beginning the substance of his address.
‘First of all, I want to convey the commander’s genuine apologies for having kept you in the dark for so long. He knows – as do all of us serving on this base – that you must have observed our behaviour over the past twenty-four hours, and this can only have added to your concerns as to what might be going on. However – and I’m afraid there is no other way to say this – he and all of us were simply following orders. Only overnight have we received permission to give you this briefing. So, again, please accept his apologies, and I hope that from now on we will be allowed to share with you everything we are doing.’
Stuart thought that final remark might not be quite as genuine as the apology proffered, but no doubt the poor guy was just doing his job.
‘OK,’ the officer continued, ‘you all know that something terrible is happening in Asia. An unknown disease there has already obliterated China and killed hundreds of millions of other people, and there doesn’t seem to be any slowing of its progress across the planet. I won’t try to hide from you just how serious this is…’
&
nbsp; ‘Well, how serious is it?’ bellowed a man in brown overalls. ‘Are we all going to die?’
This interjection knocked the officer off his carefully calculated trajectory, and he let his eyes widen far too far. But then he collected himself.
‘No, no. I think that’s highly unlikely, sir, and particularly when you hear what we’ve been doing in the past twenty-four hours. You see, we were in receipt of orders to transform this base into what is termed a “super-safe area”. And to start with what that means is that we’ve had to work very hard during those twenty-four hours to set up a secure defensive perimeter around the whole of the base. And this is now finished. And, I can assure you, it is simply impregnable. From either land or from air. Nobody, and I mean nobody, will be able to get in…’
‘What about the people in Stanley?’ interrupted another man in overalls from near the front of the hall.
‘We can’t, of course, accommodate the whole of the population of Stanley – or, indeed, the rest of the Falklands. But I can tell you that we have already taken steps to ensure that a handful of our local contractors have been able to bring their families onto the base. The rest have opted to leave the base and join their families in Stanley. Like all those in Stanley who have no connection with the base, they have chosen to stay there. And why wouldn’t they? After all, there is no immediate danger, and they are already in a safe – and comfortable – place. Which is, no doubt, in their minds, a much more attractive proposition than being billeted in a not-so-comfortable “super-safe” place. If, of course, the situation changes for any reason, these arrangements might be reviewed. But for now, it is just you – and all us service personnel – who are in a very secure refuge. And a well provided-for refuge. I mean, as well as setting up that secure perimeter, we have been kitting out all our bunkers with enough provisions for over a month, and we’ve also set up quarantine units throughout the base, should these ever be needed. We’ve done everything we can to deal with whatever the immediate future has in store. And I hope this means that you’re now far less concerned than you were when you entered this room.’
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