by M. L. Banner
Ted and TJ couldn’t hear what exactly was being said, but they could tell that the crew members were treating each decision like it was one that concerned life or death for them and everyone on board.
The first officer who asked them to wait was a young woman with model-like features, including Icelandic-blonde hair that starkly showed off the three bars on her pressed white uniform. She couldn’t have been more than thirty and looked like the youngest of the bridge crew. She leaned into the captain’s ear and said something, no doubt concerning them. The captain flashed a glance their way, nodded and said something more to the first officer, who proceeded to another area of the bridge and glared at two computer screens with a feigned indifference, as if this were her normal day.
The captain’s shoulders were pointed in their direction, but his head was focused on Jean Pierre, the staff captain, to whom he barked off some orders. Jean Pierre’s bald head spun around, searching for someone or something, before he responded subserviently.
The captain nodded back and barked something more, before finally walking in their direction. Ted thought that Christiansen looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Thank you for coming, my friends. Please join me in my ready room.” He thrust his left arm out, toward the door. TJ opened it and the three of them walked in.
“Time is precious right now, and I’m sorry to lay my burdens upon you, our guests. But I suspect you know why you’re here. So, I’ll cut to the proverbial chase. Thanks to your warning, Ted, we avoided a catastrophe in Gibraltar, but our problems have just begun.”
~~~
The monkey had worked its way up and over the metal railing of the crew’s outside cigarette break area on deck 4. Because its hands and feet were slick from the fresh blood, it slid down almost an entire deck before regaining some traction on an opening in the metal. It didn’t hesitate, as it was overwhelmed by a hunger for more. It had to have more.
A human voice called out, catching its attention. A man appeared just above and called out again to someone behind him.
The monkey didn’t need any more prodding. Nails and digits scratched up the side of metal and glass, its rapid clattering over the ship’s surfaces mirroring its frantic desire. It scurried up one of the windows framing the Windjammer Cafe. On the other side of the thick glass, ten-year-old Ashley Brown watched with wonderment, a giant spoon of ice cream shoved in her mouth, while her eyes tracked the monkey as it slipped by the window and pulled itself up to the next deck.
One foot slipped, and so it took a moment to regain its footing and glance back up. The back of its prey’s head was still in sight, so it leapt the last five feet. But the man stepped away just before the monkey could sink its claws and teeth into his skull. Instead, it clutched air and started to fall.
With nothing to stop its progression downward, the monkey flailed in the air, skittering and bouncing off Ashley Brown’s window—she dared not blink for fear of missing it pop up again. She needn’t have bothered... With one final reach before its unobstructed plunge into the ocean below, it frantically stretched out one bloody hand and hooked itself on a deck 8 balcony. It yanked itself up like a shot over the railing, smashing back-first into the large balcony’s arranged set of table and chairs.
An old man sleeping on a lounger outside rose to a sitting position, unsure what awful noise had woken him. His wide eyes glared at the balcony’s shadows, floppy comb-over having come un-flopped, dangling in place on the side of his head. From behind an overturned table in the corner of their balcony, something flailed and banged against metal. It rose onto its hind legs. A furry beast, almost invisible in the dark shadows, its red eyes glaring like stoplights, fixed... on him.
He planted his feet on the balcony’s non-slip surface, sprang up, and darted as fast as his legs would take him. He shot through the drawn curtains, over several of his wife’s discarded pumps strewn over their bedroom, past his buck-naked wife still sleeping off her Valium hangover. He bounded through the bedroom door, pulling it closed behind him, not daring to look back. The door weakly rebounded off the frame, and came to rest slightly ajar. He skittered through to the reception area, where he turned the corner and scurried to their suite’s exit. Almost there.
He clawed at the door handle, frantically attempting to push it down and simultaneously pull the door open, but he missed. Off balance, he stumbled to his knees.
A whimper burst from his lips as he bolted up again, grabbed the handle with both hands, twisted and yanked at the surprisingly heavy door. It sprang open. He thought he might make it.
He lunged for the opening’s safety just as an immovable weight piled on top of him, driving him into the entry foyer’s welcome mat. His head was smashed hard into the “te” of “Royal Suite.” He lifted and turned his head to scream, but the beast shoved his face back into the floor and simultaneously sank its teeth painfully into his left scapula. Out of one eye, he could see a room attendant turn a corner, only a few feet from their suite entrance, and then stop in front of another cabin. The attendant opened the door and slipped inside, but never turned his way. The old man tried again to lift his head, perhaps his last chance to plead for assistance. But he couldn’t, under the weight of the beast’s foot. He groaned, “Help!” but it didn’t come out much louder than a dull crackle.
The door of the same cabin popped back open and the attendant’s hand wedged a towel underneath it to hold it open.
The old man felt the beast leap off him and watched it bound toward the partially opened cabin. It hopped inside, its foot tangling in and dislodging the hand towel, causing the door to flop closed. He heard a muffled scream and then a pounding against the door.
The old man managed to push with his right arm and move his damaged body backward out of the path of the door. Parts of him felt broken, but he thought he might actually survive this ordeal, if he could just get the door closed.
With one final effort, he spun around and pushed himself up to a sitting position, dislodging himself from the door, which swung quickly and slammed with a thud. After some time collecting himself, he felt the back of his shirt become wetter and he feared he wouldn’t have long. He stood, his legs wobbly and unsure. He bent forward, forcing himself to stagger in the direction of the reception area, his feet scraping over the carpet. Once in their bedroom, he halted at the foot of the bed, his eyesight now foggy. He hesitated, while swaying from side to side, ready to topple. He knew he needed to wake his drugged-out wife, and risk her getting him to the ship’s doctor, although he suspected she might not.
Finally, he grabbed her bare leg and aggressively shook while he groaned her name. She woke abruptly, screeched at him once, and then everything went black.
24
The Captain
“The animal attacks are not just in Europe; we’ve had several here on this ship. And there have been casualties: we’ve lost three crew members and two more of our crew have been bitten, along with three guests. This havoc has been wreaked upon us by rats, dogs, and a Barbary ape, and that’s just in the last two days.”
Ted and TJ were seated in two of the eight cushy leather chairs surrounding the cherry wood conference table, which had undoubtedly never witnessed a discussion like this one before. They listened attentively. TJ’s mouth uncontrollably drooped open.
“Were their eyes red?” Ted asked, seemingly unfazed by the captain’s revelation.
TJ’s hand clenched his under the table, with almost viselike compression. Her mind then registered her husband’s question and she reflexively nodded her head, even though she did not want to hear the captain’s answer.
“Yes, I believe so,” he responded, while examining his tablet. “There are at least two reports of this: one regarding the dogs and one for the rats. In both, witnesses stated the attacking animals had ‘red eyes.’”
“Did any of your reports include a ferret?”
Both the captain and TJ looked at Ted.
&nb
sp; “No, why?” the captain asked.
“I saw a ferret outside of our door, just before your first officer called us.”
“You weren’t bitten, were you? Wait, why didn’t you mention this?” TJ huffed.
Ted winced a little as she squeezed harder. “No, I wasn’t bitten.” He tried to pull his hand away, but she wouldn’t let go. “The ferret wasn’t aggressive, like the other animals. It seemed more... confused and... hungry.”
He softly laid his other hand on top of their mutually clenched ones. “I didn’t mention it because I was still processing this, and I didn’t want you to freak out at the prospect of a potentially wild animal on board this ship. I feel pretty sure now that this particular animal is not a threat. But I am sorry for not telling you.”
“And yet it had red eyes, like the animals who’ve been attacking people?”
“Yes, and that’s what’s puzzling. It seems obvious that the animals affected by whatever this is exhibit not only the red eyes but also a crazed desire to kill and feed on flesh. This ferret’s behavior was thankfully aberrant to that of the others. Or it means something entirely different.”
“Couldn’t it mean the mad, aggressive tendencies will pass?” TJ was fishing in a very small pool of hope that most animals in the world were not trying to kill them. Ted wished he could cast his line into that same pool.
“I just don’t know. But we also have to consider that this tells us that not all infected animals exhibit the aggressiveness. The fact is, we don’t know enough to say if we’re at the beginning or at the end of this thing.” Ted pulled off his ball cap and rubbed his temples.
Captain Christiansen sat down, finally. They noticed the uncharacteristic bags under his eyes, and his shoulders sagged. He laid his tablet on the table and asked, “What do you think is causing this and more importantly, is it contagious to humans?”
“I believe it’s some combination of an infection most animals already have, along with something else that was caused and/or spread by the volcanic eruptions. I have no idea if there will be any effects on humans, but perhaps you should isolate those who have been bitten until we know more.”
“That sounds like a fair suggestion. We’ll do that.” He tapped his forefinger on his table.
“Where are the animals, you know, the ones that attacked on the ship?” TJ sank deeper into her chair, her death-grip on Ted unyielding, and if possible, squeezing harder with each revelation. Ted’s head turned back from her to the captain. He wanted to know this as well.
“The rats are all dead. One of our crew members killed them all, before they could do much more than bite a couple other crew. The monkey attack occurred outside the ship; we closed the hatch before it could come in. The dogs, on the other hand, are still loose somewhere on deck 1. The good news is that all the exits to that deck are being closely monitored. In theory, the dogs will be contained there. I’m convinced, we’ll find and subdue them soon enough. So other than the ferret, there shouldn’t be any more animals unaccounted for. I think we’re safe, at least on this ship.”
TJ’s grip relaxed somewhat.
Ted continued to stroke her upper hand with his free one. “Any thoughts on what you’ll do with the dogs when you catch them?”
TJ pulled that hand free. “You need to destroy them all!” she declared adamantly, pounding the table for emphasis.
“Remember, they belong to the passengers.” The captain averted his eyes. “But that’s probably what we’ll do to avoid further infection.” Jörgen and Jean Pierre had been discussing this very point earlier. Jörgen knew this to be the right answer, no matter how many times the ship would be sued for it. He was hoping for an alternative.
“But...” Ted smiled at TJ before returning his attention to the captain. “I’d like to get a look at one of them before you do—you know, after you catch one.”
TJ firmly gripped Ted’s hand again with both of hers and she tugged at him, so he was again facing her. Her face said it all. He had known his wife long enough to know she did not agree.
“Look, Ted, I understand your interest here, especially with all the research you did on this subject. But I don’t like it. We don’t know if this—whatever it is—is contagious. And until we do, then you should stay away from these animals even after they’re captured.”
The captain added from behind them, “Once they’re found, they’ll be contained at the pet spa, where they had been before they were accidentally released.”
Ted nodded, and then looked deeply into TJ’s agitated eyes. He squeezed her hands back, albeit tenderly. “Only after they are secure, I’ll go see the pet spa guy—what’s his name?”
“He goes by Al. He’s already aware of your thoughts on the animal attacks outside of the ship. And I’ll let you know when they’ve captured the dogs so you can go.”
TJ nodded slightly. “Yes, that all sounds fine, Ted. But you’re just a sci-fi author. You’re not a vet or an epidemiologist from the CDC. Why do you need to take the risk to see them?” She was both angry and visibly shaken.
Several long moments passed in quiet.
“Your wife is probably correct. I’d rather not put either of you at any more risk. Al is a licensed vet. He will also thoroughly examine the dogs and report his findings to me. I’ll make sure you get a copy. Additionally, you can talk to him, someplace outside of the pet spa. And again, that’s only after we catch these things.”
“Fine, just keep me in the loop then.” He didn’t want to push her anxiety about the animals any more than he already had.
Ted and TJ’s gazes were now firmly fixed on the captain, who seemed more interested in the activities outside the ready room’s windows. There appeared to be a commotion on the bridge. Abruptly he rose, pushed his chair away, and pulled open the door.
The quiet of the conference room—obviously well insulated from the bridge—was suddenly filled with the sounds of an agitated beehive of activity and a pulsating alarm.
The staff captain’s large frame filled up the ready room’s doorway. “Captain, La Palma has erupted and we have radar confirmation of a tsunami coming our way. ETA fifteen minutes.”
As if this were the most natural thing and part of the normal course of events on the bridge, the captain replied, without any hesitation, “Sound the alarm. Get everyone to their cabins.”
“Yes, sir,” Jean Pierre replied, pivoted on his heels and then jogged over to Jessica, who was tapping away at a console in the middle of the bridge. Jean Pierre hollered a command that everyone on the bridge nodded to.
The captain turned to Ted and TJ. “I’d recommend that you two go back to your cabin as well. We’ve experienced rogue waves before and we’ll be fine. But you’ll be safer in your room.” He quickly ushered them out of the conference room and through the bridge, stopping at a small desk built into a wall. On it was a nest of radios, connected to a charging station.
The captain grabbed one and handed it to Ted. “I want you to contact me if you think of something that might help.” He opened the hatch and waited for them to file out. “I’ll be in touch shortly. And thanks for your help.”
“We will, Captain,” Ted said, following TJ into the hall. They both turned to see a guard was posted by the closing hatch. Just before it shut they heard the first officer state, “Radar has the wave at over fifteen meters, and grow—”
Ted and TJ stared at each other and then started jogging down the hallway to the most forward stairwell and elevators. Their plan to take the stairs was jeopardized by the flood of passengers in semi-formal clothes, filing down for early dinner seating. Just then an elevator opened in front of them.
“Let’s grab this,” TJ said, pulling on Ted’s arm as he was about to check the deck-plan to confirm which was the quickest route back to their cabin. “We’ll take it down to six, walk aft and then up one to our deck.”
“How have you already memorized the entire deck-plan?”
“I just don’t want us to not be in th
e room when a fifty-plus-foot wave hits our ship.”
They stepped into the elevator just as a double-horn sounded on the ship’s intercom system. “This is a shipwide alert. Attention, we have a tsunami alert. In ten minutes, we expect a tsunami wave to hit this ship. To prevent any injuries, all passengers are instructed to go directly to their cabins and put on their life vests.”
The elevator doors closed and the elevator started its descent.
“Attention. This is a shipwide al—”
The overheads flashed off, sending their tiny room into darkness, and the world around them abruptly stopped.
25
Chen Lee
Chen Lee stopped to blow her nose and then made sure she still looked good before continuing.
She wore his favorite traditional kimono with her hair put up precisely, held in place by black chopsticks with white pearl inlay. Underneath her kimono, she wore nothing at all.
She had no intention this time of giving him what he wanted. Instead, she was going to show him what he would be missing, and then maybe she’d stab him to death with one of her chopsticks. She was that mad right now.
Earlier today, she was speaking with Lana, a girlfriend who also worked in the spa part-time because of the staff shortages. Normally, she worked at the photo gallery. Chen found Lana in the crew mess and they got around to the subject of men. Lana gloated right away that she had been seeing the head of security, Robert Spillman, and that they were having sex all the time, and in fact, they had a rendezvous set today for four.