by Jordan Rivet
“My phone’s not working.”
“My laptop won’t connect.”
“I paid extra to have Internet on the cruise. What gives?”
“I need to reach my family. Please let me use the computer.”
They had to turn everyone away, explaining that there was no connection, they were trying, they’d let everyone know if they got through. Over and over they watched faces fall as the others realized they’d have to wait even longer for answers. One woman burst into tears, and Judith had to search the drawers of the reception desk for tissues. She wasn’t sure what else to do.
After more than an hour of trying to access the Internet, Nora pushed away from the desk.
“Impossible. I can’t get through. This computer is shitty.”
“Do you think there’s a better connection in the bridge? Maybe they’ve been able to get online,” Judith said, thinking of the double row of computer consoles she’d seen the day before.
“Maybe,” Nora said. “But if the satellite signals aren’t getting through, it won’t be any better up there.”
“It’s worth a try, though, right? We could see if they’ve heard anything on the radio.”
“Sure, why not?” Nora said. “I’m not making any progress here.”
They followed the same route to the bridge Judith had taken the day before. The corridors were crowded with other passengers. Should I be calling us survivors? Most looked as if they didn’t quite believe what was going on. One woman wandered around with the cruise schedule clutched in her hand, asking what time the bingo started. A couple of children ran through the corridors, screaming and laughing as if nothing had happened, their parents nowhere to be seen.
The ship felt surreal. Inside, it was like walking down the hallways of a hotel. Judith experienced a jolt of surprise whenever they passed a window revealing the rolling expanse of the sea beyond.
She couldn’t help feeling nervous when they pushed through a door marked “Cruise Staff Only” on their way to the bridge. She disliked breaking rules. She wished Manny the porter was with them. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday, when he’d delivered a too-short list of crew names to their table for sorting.
When Judith and Nora entered the bridge, the captain wasn’t there. The room was nearly empty, and they had a perfect view of the sea in front of them. The skies swirled unnaturally, blue and purple and gray.
The woman with the brunette pixie cut stood up from a computer terminal.
“What are you doing here? The bridge is off-limits.”
“It’s Ren, right?” Judith said. “I’m Judith. I was in here yesterday. We were wondering if you’ve had any updates from land. Is the captain around?”
Ren appeared to want to send them away, but then her shoulders relaxed a little. “I don’t suppose it matters if I tell you this,” she said. “The captain went on a bender up in the lounge last night. He’s still sleeping it off. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Nora. She’s been trying to access the Internet, but we haven’t been able to get on at all this morning.”
“Computers are down,” Ren said.
“I got one working yesterday in the lobby,” Nora said. “We even had the net for a few minutes. Checked the BBC and everything.” She fiddled with her tortoise earring as she met Ren’s eyes.
“How’d you manage that?” Ren said. “The hotel units are password protected.”
“I know my way around computers.”
“You shouldn’t be messing about with ship property,” Ren said.
Judith detected a bit of a Canadian accent in Ren’s voice when she said “about.”
“We just wanted news,” Judith said.
Ren sighed. “I guess all the other regulations are out the window. I haven’t been able to get a connection today either. We’re moving at a good pace toward Hawaii, though. We can get our answers there.”
“Can we wait for the captain to come in?” Judith asked. She wanted someone to take charge, someone with experience and authority and a uniform.
“Suit yourselves. Just don’t touch anything.” Ren sat back down at her computer and put her feet on the next console. Nora and Judith waited hopefully in the aisle. It was hard to believe there weren’t more people here, given that the ship was still moving.
“You might as well sit,” Ren said. “In fact, wanna have a go at this computer? It’s on a different system than the hotel ones. Maybe you’ll have better luck than me.”
“Sure.” Nora moved to the computer beside Ren. Soon Nora’s fingers were flying across the keys and Ren was leaning over her shoulder, watching in admiration.
Judith sat in a swivel chair nearby. “What about other ships?” she asked. “Have you talked to anyone on the radio?”
“Vinny is up in the broadcast tower now. He’ll let me know on the ’com if there’s any big news.” Ren gestured at the intercom set in her console, keeping her attention on what Nora was doing.
“What was the last thing he heard?” Judith asked.
“More or less what the captain told you yesterday. Definitely Yellowstone. The eruption wiped out communications to half the world. All militaries are on high-level alert.”
“We saw on the net that the navy is gathering in Pearl Harbor,” Nora said, looking up from the screen to meet Ren’s eyes for a second. A shadow of a grin flitted across her face.
“Yeah? Then you know more than me,” Ren said. “Vinny got a warship on the radio late last night, but they wouldn’t tell him anything.”
“Why not?” Judith asked.
“They don’t want to help us.”
“What?”
“They’re looking out for their own right now. This isn’t a US vessel, technically. Most ships are registered offshore for the looser regulations. I guess it’s coming back to bite them.”
Judith didn’t believe it. That’s what the military is for. Of course they want to help us. She had always found something comforting in the routines and hierarchy of the military. Most of the people on board were US citizens, no matter where the ship was registered. They’d find the help they needed in Pearl Harbor.
Judith and Nora stayed in the bridge with Ren. She was a bit brusque, but she didn’t seem to mind their company. Ren and Nora bonded quickly over the computers. Ren showed her how the internal system operated and monitored most of the ship’s essential functions. She explained that it actually took very few people to sail the ship now that most things were automated, and the main control room was actually down on a lower level next to the engine room. Ren herself was a navigator, which was why she was stationed in the bridge. Her family was from Toronto, but she’d had no contact with them since the disaster.
Judith studied the logbooks and emergency manuals she found in the bridge. She needed to keep busy. She hated waiting, staring out at the rough seas and angry skies. She bent over the books, where page after page described the official procedures for all likely seabound emergencies. But what had happened yesterday was unprecedented. There were no guidelines for an apocalypse.
When Captain Martinelli finally returned, he squinted at them, then walked unsteadily to the front windows and lit a cigarette. Judith approached him cautiously.
“Sir, we got everyone settled with food and somewhere to sleep last night,” she said. “What should we do with the passengers today?”
The captain put one hand to his head and waved the other like he was trying to swat a gnat.
“I don’t want to deal with passengers,” he grumbled. “I have a ship to sail.”
“But we need to tell them something,” Judith said. “Maybe you could come—”
“Get someone else. That Simon fellow was keen.”
“But he doesn’t have any infor— ”
“Just sort yourselves out,” the captain snapped. He inhaled through his cigarette and squeezed his eyes shut.
How could he just wash his hands of them like that? Weren’t there codes of honor or something for ship
captains? Judith wondered if he might have cracked a bit. His quick action had gotten them away from the rush of ash, but maybe he should have just taken them south to another port. Did they really have to sail all the way across the ocean to Hawaii?
Captain Martinelli continued to smoke and glare at the waves. Finally, Judith got frustrated and went to see if she could help Simon. As she left the bridge, she vowed that if things ever went back to normal she’d never go on a cruise for as long as she lived.
Simon
Simon had selected an empty crew cabin with two twin beds for himself and Esther. They didn’t need much space. They were lucky to have a small window, little more than a porthole in the base of the ship. Esther slept soundly the first night, but she asked for her mother when she woke. Simon held her and allowed himself to picture Nina’s soft face and imagine the feel of her hands, the smell of her perfume. Grief threatened to pull him under, but he couldn’t allow that, not when he had Esther to look after.
Esther gripped his hand as they headed down the corridor for breakfast. She kept pulling him off to examine things: luggage carts, doorways into service areas, even diagrams of the ship, with emergency exits marked in red. She seemed fascinated by this new world, but Simon worried about how the trauma of what had happened yesterday would affect her. He just had to focus on getting them through the next few days. He held her hand tighter.
As soon as they arrived in the dining hall, people began coming to Simon with questions and grievances: Where is the medical center? My neighbor kept me awake with her crying all night. My kid is seasick. This asshole is hoarding food. I want to go home.
Perhaps because he had been the first to stand up and speak, news spread fast that people should go to Simon with their problems. He welcomed the distraction. He picked up the names of his fellow passengers quickly, like he always had with his students. He did his best to mediate disputes and connect people with others who could help them with their problems.
The nurse’s name is Laura. She’s in the clinic on Deck 4. Ask for Willow Weathers. She can tell help you find more blankets. I don’t know about that, but ask for a crewman named Reggie. I noticed a sign for a chapel. Take a look around Deck 7.
Simon tried to get to know the ship quickly so he could help out, Esther tagging along behind him. The Catalina was less than six hundred feet long and had only ten decks. She had space for everyone, but it was tight. Many of the runners had found places to sleep in the crew cabins, and a handful camped on the massage tables in the little spa on the fifth deck. The space was a bit claustrophobic, but Simon preferred the depths of the ship to the unnatural sky outside. Most people avoided the outer decks, fearful that the air was poisoned.
Judith found him midmorning and reported that the captain refused to become involved with the passengers. He immediately took Judith’s report to Ana Ivanovna, the highest-ranking person remaining from the original hotel staff. Simon found her in the galley with a clipboard balanced on one arm, busy taking inventory of a huge freezer. When he reported the captain’s abdication of responsibility, Ana scowled and chewed at her maroon-painted lips.
“I handle the food and rations. You keep the people out of trouble,” she said.
“I’m not sure I can do that,” Simon said. It was all well and good for people to come to him to resolve arguments, but that was different than keeping the entire ship running. He was a teacher first and foremost, not a leader.
“Is only for a few days,” she said. “You treat them like it is summer camp.”
“But maybe you could—”
“I am busy up to my eyeball,” Ana said. She waved the clipboard at Simon and slammed the freezer door. A rush of cold air swept over them. “You must do this.”
Simon had no desire whatsoever to become a cruise director. He left Ana to her work and headed back out to the dining hall. The people at the tables talked in low voices, staring out at the grim sky. But one group looked up and waved at Simon. It was little Adi Kapur with his mother and father. Both parents kept reaching over to touch their son on his head or shoulders, as if to remind themselves that they were still together. They must be scared too, but it was more important to be strong for their child.
Esther waited for Simon at another table, her legs swinging because they were too short to reach the floor. Simon stood a little straighter. Ana was right: it was only a few days. He could keep things running smoothly until they reached Hawaii.
He started out by asking everyone to clean their own cabins and bathrooms. It didn’t seem right for the remaining cleaning staff to do it. Some of the passengers objected, but he brooked no argument.
“These people are survivors just like you,” he told a particularly combative cruise passenger when she waved her gold frequent-cruiser card under his nose and demanded room service. “We all have to do our part.”
The porters did help care for the common areas, though, keeping things relatively orderly, and some of the passengers pitched in with that too. Simon sent extra able-bodied men to help Reggie and the crew clear the ash away from the ship’s outer vents. Eventually they’d get to the decks too. Having chores would help keep people from sitting and staring endlessly at the sea, letting their worries overwhelm them.
As the days passed and they started to run out of areas of the ship to clean, Simon encouraged the passengers and crew to make use of the books, table games, cinema, and other kinds of entertainment on the ship. Willow Weathers, the lounge singer, opened up the cruise director’s storage compartments to bring out more games and activities. She even led a yoga class in the middle of the plaza a few times.
People were more likely to complain if they had nothing to do, and they were far more likely to despair. When Simon saw Frank Fordham drifting aimlessly around the plaza on the third day, still inquiring whether anyone had seen his son, he asked him to check out the ship’s desalination system and report back. Frank had walked away with purpose. Simon himself felt that as long as he kept moving, his own grief wouldn’t catch up to him either. At least not yet.
Esther kept close to Simon’s heels, and soon she was predicting his answers to the people who came to him for guidance. When she wasn’t following her father, she attached herself to Judith, who was proving to be quite capable. She was clearheaded and organized, and she had no qualms about telling people what to do. With Judith’s help, Simon got everyone to fall into what was more or less a routine.
In a way they were lucky to be such a small group. The final head count had settled at 1,114. He could only imagine the disorder and panic that must be rolling through the surviving cities back on land, where the sheer numbers would overwhelm. Here it was like they were a small town dealing with their problems together.
It wasn’t entirely smooth sailing on the Catalina. Each individual was fragile in a different way, whether angry or distressed or just scared. The lack of information was the worst part. The days had a grim, gloomy look to them, and the nights were pitch black. Simon hadn’t seen a single star since they’d been at sea. But by the end of the third day Simon felt they had managed the crisis fairly well. No one in their little world had died or gotten into any serious fights. Soon they’d be back on land, and he would find out what had happened to the rest of his family no matter what it took.
Chapter 8—The Storm
Simon
The evening before they were scheduled to arrive in Hawaii, Simon and Judith lingered in the Atlantis Dining Hall after dinner. They’d eaten only vegetables again today. Ana Ivanovna was determined to conserve all the canned and imperishable food and use up anything that wouldn’t keep. The ship was stocked for a seven-day voyage, and cruise ships always carried more than enough food for the all-you-can-eat buffets, but Ana wanted to be extra-careful just in case.
The sky had grown night dark. The seas were rough, the ship rolling more than usual. The Catalina was big enough that the movement didn’t affect them too much, but tonight it felt different, unsettled. The dining hal
l was warm, though, and they talked about what they’d do when they got to Hawaii the next day if the planes were still grounded.
“I might get a job to tide me over,” Judith said. “And then see if I can make my way to the East Coast. Or maybe Europe. I’d like to work in London.”
“I’m not sure anyone will be hiring,” Simon said.
“It’s not going to be that bad, is it?” Judith asked. “They always say things will be worse than they are. Don’t you think everything will have calmed down by the time we get to Hawaii?”
Simon’s glass of water slid across the table. He caught it and took a sip.
“I don’t know, Judith. There’s no precedent for this.”
“But the worst is over,” she said. “Now it’s time to rebuild.”
The ship lurched. Lightning flashed outside the window, still far away.
“I don’t know if the worst is over,” Simon said.
“What do you mean?”
“The darkness. The ash. I think there will be repercussions from the volcano that stretch beyond the US.”
No one had managed to access the Internet that day. With the communication links down, there was no way of knowing what was going on in the world. They were totally isolated.
Lightning cracked again, closer this time. It lit the sea with shimmers of white and blue. Wind howled against the large windows.
Esther skipped over from the buffet table.
“Hi, Judith. Hi, Daddy. Ana said I could have an extra piece of cornbread.”
Simon smiled at his young daughter. She had been exploring the ship more and more. She’d know every nook and cranny soon. It was nice that he didn’t have to worry too much about her wandering off, as there was nowhere for her to go.
“That looks good, button. Did you say thank you?”
“Yup,” Esther said. “Ana says we can stay on the ship when we get to Hawaii if we want to. She says it’s like a hotel.”
“That’s an idea,” Simon said. “Maybe we’ll do that.”
“Are you excited about Hawaii, Judith?” Esther asked. She was still wearing her Thomas shirt. Simon hadn’t had the heart to make her change.