by Jordan Rivet
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d seen what happened when her financially successful father divorced her mother, leaving her at the constant mercy of alimony negotiations until she met her new husband. Judith always knew she would be self-sufficient, successful in her own right. She never wanted to be vulnerable the way her mother had been for those years. Right now she depended on the other people on the ship, but this wouldn’t last. They’d have to find a safe harbor soon.
Footsteps rang out on the broadcast tower ladder. Kim Wu’s shoes appeared, then the stained knees of her khaki pants.
“Word coming in on the radio! It’s the navy!”
Simon
The meeting was going well, all things considered. They had decided to meet in the Mermaid Lounge, the nightclub on the ninth deck, because the Atlantis Dining Hall was still damp from the storm and smelled like rotting food. The Mermaid Lounge had a long bar overlooking the sea, round tables, and booths with couches covered in shimmering velvet. Green drapes hung on the walls, along with jewel-toned prints of buxom mermaids with artful hair arrangements.
It was early afternoon, but the light coming through the sea windows was weak. Simon worried about the effect the diminished sunshine would have on morale. He hardly dared think about what it would do to plant life around the world. They’d been able to skim seaweed off the top of the sea after the storm, scrubbing it thoroughly in hopes of avoiding contamination, but he worried about what they would do if it started to die too. You can’t think like that. You’ll be back on land soon.
Simon spent too much time worrying these days. They had been at sea for a week, but already it felt like a decade—or at least like he had aged a decade. He shook his head and returned his attention to the issue at hand: space. They were always talking about space.
“We should be allocated another cabin,” Rosa Cordova was saying. “We paid to be on this ship, and it isn’t fair for so many children to have to share rooms. The Raines family feels the same way. Their kids are too old to be crammed together like that.”
“What do you expect us to do, Rosa?” said Horace, one of the runners. “Sleep in the bowling alley?”
“Hate to break it to you, but you’re not on vacation anymore. You can’t be so selfish,” Frank grumbled.
“It’s not selfishness,” Rosa snapped. “We need space for the children. Us old folks are fine, but the children need room!”
“The kids are all right, Rosa,” Frank said. “They’re basically having a sleepover.”
“They are all right,” put in Ana Ivanovna, “but they are eating like hyenas. Maybe you take less room because you are taking more food, eh?”
Rosa scowled and adjusted the sunglasses hanging from the neck of her shirt.
The arguments bounced back and forth. There was still too much division between the runners, passengers, and crew. It didn’t help that many of the crew came from poorer countries and didn’t always speak English well. Ana Ivanovna was their primary advocate. She was more than a match for Rosa Cordova.
“You are wanting the crew to bunk together, yes?” Ana continued. “So the runners can live in the crew cabins? You are not thinking that we are still working to make sure everyone has food, and for this work we are not getting paid.”
“Well, we’re certainly not getting a refund,” Rosa huffed. “Do you know how long we saved to take this vacation?”
“Is no vacation,” Ana muttered.
“Please, would you shut up about how much you paid for your rooms?” Frank said, not quite under his breath.
Rosa swelled like a bullfrog.
“Let’s hang on for a few more days,” Simon cut in. “This is all temporary. I think the kids will be okay bunking together for a little while longer. Kids are resilient, and under the circumstances they probably prefer the company.” He thought about Esther, who was proving to be even more resilient than he could have hoped. Once again he was grateful that he didn’t have to worry as much about where she was in their little self-contained world. “Can we get back to the cleaning issue?” he said. “I think Ana raised a good point about the shifts—”
The lounge door swung open with a bang. Judith dashed over to where the council sat around the largest round table. She still wore her running shoes and her souvenir Catalina sweater. She’d found one for Esther to wear too. It had been getting colder since the storm.
“We got a message from the navy!” Judith announced.
“What kind of message?”
“Radio. They’re calling for ships in the vicinity to head to Guam.”
Simon felt a surge of hope. He sat back in his chair, trying to picture where Guam was. If he remembered correctly, it was about three-quarters of the way between Hawaii and the Philippines, north of Australia and Papua New Guinea. They’d been drifting west since the storm, so there was a chance that they weren’t too far away.
“Do they have food?” Horace asked, fingering the rolled cuff of the suit jacket he had been wearing all week.
“I don’t know,” Judith said. “Vinny and Kim didn’t actually talk to anyone. There’s a message playing on a loop, and they happened upon the right frequency when they were scanning for signals.”
“Can we make it to Guam on our remaining fuel?” Frank asked.
“Ren thinks we can.”
“What kind of aid are they offering?” Simon asked.
Judith hesitated. “Well, they’re not technically offering anything. The message sounds like it’s meant for navy ships in the area, but they’d have to help a bunch of Americans, wouldn’t they? If they’re gathering in Guam, it has to be in better shape than Hawaii.”
“Finally,” Rosa said. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to Guam,” Frank said. “My son was stationed there once, but I never made the trip.”
Simon hesitated. Would the navy really be in a position to help an entire cruise ship full of people if they were still trying to establish contact with their own vessels? No one else seemed to share his reservations.
“I came straight to you so the representatives can vote,” Judith said. “Can we set our course for Guam? Ren says we’ve been drifting in the right general direction.”
“I think we should establish contact first and let them know we’re coming,” Simon said.
“We can do that on the way,” Rosa said.
“Yeah, let’s head for Guam,” Frank said. “I can’t wait to get off this infernal ship—and back on US soil.”
“Let’s vote,” Horace said.
“All in favor of Guam!”
Hands were raised all the way around the table. Simon abstained. For some reason he got a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of the automated message. What if they got to Guam and no one was there? But Judith’s face lit up when the motion passed, and she darted back to the bridge before Simon could speak to her about his reservations.
Chapter 12—Guam
Judith
Judith stood in the bow as they approached Guam. The wind blew her hair back from her face. She’d washed it in seawater that morning, and it felt crinkly and rough but cleaner than it had been in days. They’d been on restricted rations, trying to use fresh water only for drinking and food preparation. The desalination system cleaned the water using energy from the running engines, so as they sailed toward the shores of Guam they were replenishing their supply. Simon had insisted that they store most of the water in case they encountered problems in Guam. It seemed like an unnecessary precaution to Judith. Their journey would end on this little island at the edge of Oceania.
It had been three days since they’d made the decision to head west, ten days since the disaster. Judith had gotten used to a new normal on the ship, following the same routines each day, but she was ready for the adventure to be over.
She fixed her eyes on the horizon. The sky was dark for early afternoon, the sea rougher than it had been since the storm. White-tipped waves cascad
ed against the hull and stretched outward like strobes of light. Any minute now they’d see the outlines of warships, shorelines, structures, civilization. Their time on the Catalina had been surreal, but soon they’d be with the navy. Everything would be okay.
Others joined her on deck. The people were in good spirits, stretching their legs and reaching their arms out toward the obscured sun. It was like they’d been living in a cave for a month and were finally walking toward the opening. They chattered about their plans for when they reached the island.
“I’m going to kiss the ground. I don’t care how dirty it is.”
“I want to drink a cold beer on the beach. Think the navy has any left?”
“I just want to find a way home . . . preferably on a plane.”
“This trip has been long enough for me.”
“I’m never setting foot on another boat.”
Judith couldn’t help thinking that when they reached dry land they’d find out the eruption hadn’t been as bad as they’d heard. The world would have stepped in to help, and they’d already be rebuilding. This whole detour at sea would be like a dream.
Simon was up in the broadcast tower, monitoring communications with Vinny, but Esther had been allowed on deck. She climbed up on the railing next to Judith.
“Judy, can we go on a battleship when we get to Guam?” Esther asked.
“Maybe. They probably have strict rules, though,” Judith said. “I don’t know if they’ll let us.”
“Frank says all battleships are warships, but not all warships are battleships.” Esther giggled. “Did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.”
One of Esther’s pigtails had come loose in the breeze. Judith combed her fingers through the little girl’s hair to fix it. Esther grinned up at her.
“Do they have turbine engines or electric prop’uller engines on battleships?”
“I have no idea.”
“Can we go to the beach when we get to Guam?”
“Maybe. You’re not tired of the ocean?”
“No way. I like the ocean. I want to be a sailor when I grow up. Do you think I can, Judy?” Esther asked, her brown eyes bright and hopeful.
“I think you can be whatever you want,” Judith answered.
“That’s what Daddy said, but he was distracted. He’s always busy, isn’t he, Judy?”
“Everyone relies on him,” Judith said.
“Yup. That’s because he’s the smartest man on the ship. Don’t you think so?”
“Yes, I think you’re right.”
Esther nodded proudly. “Reggie’s stronger, though. He’s the strongest man on the ship. And Frank is the best engineer on the ship. And Mrs. Cordova is the meanest lady. And Mrs. Newton is the best pray-er . . .”
Esther rattled on about the people of the Catalina, and Judith only half listened. Was there something on the horizon? That smudge of gray looked different from the cloud-burdened sky. Judith gripped the cold railing. Yes, there was definitely something solid there. Was it the coastline taking shape?
“I see it!” Manny said, joining them at the railing. He had given up on wearing the sailor’s collar with his uniform. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a silver crucifix hanging on a slim chain. “It is the island.”
“Land,” Judith whispered. It wasn’t a mirage. They were going to be okay.
It took an eternity for the island to grow large before them. The hazy weather kept the details indistinct as they drew close. Judith searched for some sign of navy ships gathering, but everything was amorphous, forming and dissolving in the haze with each shift of the wind.
Then quite suddenly a concrete shape emerged. A small boat sailed directly toward them from the island. A pair of big guns stood out on the prow, and an American flag flew in the wind. There was one painted on the hull as well.
We’re saved! Judith thought.
The boat slowed when it was within a hundred yards of the Catalina. Then a voice amplified by a loudspeaker droned across the water.
“You are in restricted waters. Turn back, and we will let you go peacefully.”
“What does that mean, Judy?” Esther asked.
Surprise and confusion spread across the deck faster than wildfire.
“You are in restricted waters,” repeated the voice on the loudspeaker. “Turn back.”
“What do we do?” Manny said.
“They can’t turn us away!” Judith spun to look up at the bridge. Could Simon hear this?
The Catalina rumbled, and then the engines went quiet. They drifted to a stop. The sudden silence was deafening. Were they going to turn around?
“You are in restricted waters. We have no room for refugees. Turn back, or you will be fired upon.”
“No,” Judith said. “They have to help us.”
“Repeat. You will be fired upon.”
They couldn’t be serious. But the boat still rode the waves in front of them, the deck deceptively empty. The guns waited in the prow.
“Judy? What’s going on?” Esther asked.
Judith felt an electric shock go through her when she realized Esther was still beside her, totally exposed.
“Esther,” she said quickly, gripping the little girl’s shoulders, “you need to go back inside the ship right now. Do you understand?”
“But—”
“Right now. It’s not safe here.”
“I want to see!”
“No. Go inside and take all the other kids with you,” Judith ordered. “Get Neal to help you. Go find Mrs. Gordon and baby Cally and stay with them, okay?”
“But I want to go to Guam!”
“Now!”
Esther continued to complain, but she did as she was told. She gathered up Neal and the other children on the deck and led the way back into the Catalina. Judith and Manny exchanged worried looks and turned back to the sea.
Two sailors had emerged and taken hold of the guns on the smaller boat. They couldn’t truly be planning to fire on a distressed ship full of civilians, could they? Not when they weren’t in any danger. It was impossible. Judith gripped the railing tighter, but she didn’t take cover.
Simon
Simon and Vinny sat in the broadcast tower, headsets clutched over their ears. The radio repeated the same message that was being relayed over the other ship’s loudspeaker. Panic simmered in Simon’s chest as he looked back and forth between the threatening ship and his daughter on the deck.
“Hold your fire,” he begged through the radio. “We need water and fuel. We’re desperate.”
Down below, Esther gathered the other children and disappeared from view. Simon breathed a little easier, but many of the adults were still on the deck, staring at the ship blocking their path to Guam and safety.
“You are in restricted waters,” said the voice on the radio. “Turn back, and we will let you go peacefully.”
“We have no weapons,” Simon shouted into the mic. “We’re American citizens!”
The voice repeated the same emotionless message. Restricted waters. Turn back. We will fire. Vinny stared imploringly at Simon, wide-eyed. There had to be some mistake. They couldn’t mean it.
The Catalina floated like a big, lumbering target in front of the little mosquito boat. She was no match for the other ship, but they had nowhere else to go.
“Please,” Simon said. “You have to let us come ashore. We have children aboard.”
There was a pause.
“We are under strict orders not to permit any nonmilitary personnel to pass beyond this point.”
“Please, it’s a matter of life and death.”
“We are under strict orders . . .” The voice on the radio sounded less sure, perhaps a bit more human.
“We’ve stopped our engines,” Simon said. “Please talk to me for a minute, sailor. And for God’s sake, hold your fire!”
“I’m sorry, sir. We can’t let anyone disembark in Guam.”
Simon wrapped his fingers around the cord
to the headset, casting about for something to say.
“What’s your name, sailor?”
“Seaman Michael Williams.”
Whoever manned the loudspeaker outside was still shouting warnings at the people on deck. Some crouched low, gazes fixed on the guns. Judith remained standing, her blond hair flying loose from her ponytail.
Simon couldn’t let them down. He had to get through to this man.
“Michael, my name is Simon. I have a daughter on board this ship named Esther. Her mother, Nina, and her sister, Naomi, were lost in San Diego. We’ve been sailing for ten days, and there are over a thousand people on board. We won’t last another week without more food, and we don’t have enough fuel left to sail for that long anyway.” Simon swallowed hard and took a gamble. “Michael, do you have any children? Or siblings?”
The radio was silent for a heartbeat. Then: “I have a kid brother.”
“What’s his name?” Simon asked.
“Matt.”
“If it was Matt on this ship, you would want someone to disobey orders to help him. Wouldn’t you, Michael?”
“I’m sorry. We can’t help.”
“Please, Michael, we have nowhere to go,” Simon said. “And we need answers. We have no idea what’s going on in the rest of the world.”
The boat still bobbed in front of the Catalina, guns trained on the decks. It was small enough to fit inside the Atlantis Dining Hall with room to spare, but those guns made all the difference.
“The world has gone to hell, sir,” said the voice on the radio.
“At least tell us where we should sail if you won’t help us,” Simon said. “Please, Michael, for your brother’s sake.”
Desperation buzzed in Simon’s head. He felt like he was coming down with a fever. He didn’t know what to do from here.