by Dayle, Harry
• • •
“So you understand why it has to be done like this, right?” Flynn said.
“I don’t know, I still think my way could work.”
“Melvin, you’re smart. Think about what would happen. If you want this to work, you’ve got one shot at it. By all means start tough, but be realistic about what we can achieve so soon. Rome wasn’t built in a day. We must take our time, do this properly or not at all.”
“Flynn’s right, you should listen to him,” a thin man with huge hair added.
“Thank you, Clayton,” Flynn said.
“I guess…I need some time to think about this,” Melvin said. He stood up and paced around in the aisle between the seats, kicking at the floor.
The other men in the cinema whispered among themselves.
“Sure, take some time, but not too long or we’ll miss our best chance. It’s getting late. If we leave it too long, there will only be a night watch on the bridge. When we show our hand, it has to be with the captain present.” Flynn looked at the mobile phone in his hand and smiled. No signal, no surprise. There was no regular service this far north even before the asteroid, only that provided by the ship itself, and the power cut had killed that. He wasn’t hoping to make any calls though, he was looking at the picture he’d snapped earlier. The picture that was going to move his plan to the next phase.
In the dim light of the screen, Melvin’s lanky frame cast a long shadow over the seats on the other side of the aisle. It made him look even taller than he already was.
“Okay, we’ll do it your way,” Melvin said.
Flynn smiled to himself. This was going to work out just fine.
Twenty-One
BARRY NICKELSON HAD an office down on deck two, at the back of the casino. Jake’s only dealings with the man had been in the crew bar. The sailing crew, responsible for the operation of the ship itself, and the hotel staff, who looked after passengers and passenger facilities, had little interaction. The crew bar was the one place where these two worlds collided. Barry, being very much a people person, saw it as his personal mission to get all staff on board together as often as possible. This involved organising themed party nights in the crew bar. There was dancing, singing, and plenty of drinking. The parties had been responsible for several romances, and more one night stands than anyone would care to count. Barry, believing in a hands-on management style, somehow managed to do a bit of DJing, as well as serving drinks. It was with little hope of an answer than Jake tapped on his office door.
“Yes?” a voice called from the other side.
Jake pushed it open and walked in. The room was sparsely furnished with a small desk, a chair either side, and a filing cabinet in the corner. It was not what Jake expected. Barry must have sensed that as he watched him look around.
“Jake, my man. How’s it going? Huh, not very impressive, is it? If I’d known I’d be receiving the acting captain, I would have decorated!”
“It’s fine, yeah, fine.” Jake smiled and offered his hand, which seemed to confuse Barry.
“Oh, yeah, okay, dude!” He shook the hand vigorously. “So, end of the world. What about that then? And even more amazing, you’re the captain now! What happened to Ibsen?”
Jake winced at the mention of the name. “He…he didn’t survive. Neither did Johnny Hollen. So you’re stuck with me, for now.”
“Huh! Get that, that’s a shame. I liked Johnny, he was a top man. Ibsen’s no great loss though. Sit down, dude, sit down. So, what’s up? What are we doing?”
The two men took a chair each.
“You have one of the biggest teams on this ship, Barry. Between the bar staff, the casino, the theatre performers and the sports trainers, that’s a lot of people you’re responsible for. And the thing is, right now, they’re all out of work. This ship is on hold while we figure out what to do. Your team, and the passengers…once everyone starts getting over the shock of what’s happened, it’s going to be tough to keep everyone happy. There are going to be people with different views on what we should do, and keeping order is going to be more and more important.”
“What are we going to do?” Barry’s mask slipped, just a bit. His voice betrayed how hard he was fighting to keep it together.
“Until we know otherwise, we assume that the world didn’t end just because that broadcast stopped. For all we know, there could be dozens of northern countries, territories, and states that survived. But we have to be realistic too. We can’t go sailing off, visiting every continent, looking for a safe haven. We all saw what that asteroid could do. It left entire countries flattened. We don’t have the fuel to search indefinitely. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that morale seems to be high right now, because we survived against the odds. But that feeling is going to fade, and reality is going to bite. I need your team to do what they do best. I need them to entertain, to make people feel good about themselves, to keep them happy. And most of all they need to show that Pelagios Line is still in control. It’s not exactly situation normal, but neither is it a lost cause. If we make a show of the fact we are confident and in control, it will help to maintain the peace.”
“I don’t know, Jake, we got hit hard. A lot of people dead. You can’t expect my guys to pick themselves up, dust themselves down, and carry on like nothing happened.”
“No, and I’m not saying they should. This isn’t about being in denial about what happened. It’s about staying positive, saying ‘yes, the situation is bad, but we’re not going to lie down and die’. It’s what my dad would call ‘wartime spirit’. This is a critical time. If everything just stops, the passengers will rebel. If we show them that we’re not beaten, that we’re tackling this thing head on, then they’re more likely to follow our lead.”
Neither man spoke. Barry’s seemed to be weighing up Jake’s suggestion. Finally he came to a decision.
“I guess it’s worth a try. What’s the worst that can happen, right?”
“Right. I think. Can you brief your team?”
“Yes, but I think it would be better coming from you, dude.”
Jake had no intention of speaking to more people than he had to. All he really wanted to do was get back to the bridge and delegate everything via the telephone. On the other hand, shouldn’t he practice what he was preaching? Lead by example?
“I’d love to, but I can’t, not straight away. I have too much to do as it is. Besides, I don’t have your charisma, Barry. Nobody can motivate a group like you can.”
“You’re such a creep. But I understand. I’ll get on it.”
“Thanks, Barry. Now, two more things. Firstly, can you join me in the temporary morgue in the morning? There are a number of unknowns down there, some of them will be crew. I need help identifying them. Let’s say oh-seven hundred hours?”
Barry pulled a face.
“You know nearly everyone who works on this ship. If there was anyone else, I would ask,” Jake pleaded.
“Okay. But I might have a few drinks first, to help me get through it.”
“All food and drink is rationed.”
“Not my personal supply, and I’m not telling where it’s hidden!”
“Fair enough. But I’ll find out later. Now, one other thing, have you seen Tania Bloom anywhere?”
“Tania? No, not for days. But if I do, I’ll ask her to go see you.”
Jake got up to leave, and as he did so there was a jolt, a noise like a huge washing machine spinning up, and a vibration. With a flicker, the lights in the office came on.
• • •
The screen popped to life and Lucya let out a sigh of relief. In front of her were a disarray of pages, scribbled notes, folded navigational charts, and a couple of reference books. Finding the nearest and most northerly permanently inhabited settlement had been easy. Calculating the course taking into account currents, the shifting ice, and the maximum fuel efficiency had taken some doing. She was reasonably happy with her results, but seeing a computer resurrect
itself filled her with joy. She grabbed the topmost page of scribbles and the biggest chart, and put them down next to the navigation terminal. There was still a bit of time left before Jake and the others were due back, and she wanted to make absolutely sure her calculations were correct.
No sooner had her fingers alighted on the keyboard than there was a bang at the door.
“Who is it?” she called without looking up.
“We want to see the captain,” came the response.
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“We represent those who have not been given a voice.”
Lucya stopped what she was doing, stood up slowly, and walked very quietly to the door. It was locked, but there was an extra security bar that was supposed to be used in case of piracy attacks or terrorism. As gently as she could, she slid the bar into place.
Three more bangs.
“We demand to speak with the captain, now. We aren’t going anywhere until that happens.”
“The captain isn’t here.”
“Bullshit.”
“If he were here, he would probably be telling you to leave. Most likely in stronger terms than that. You’re wasting your time. He’s not here.”
“Then we’ll wait.”
“Shit,” Lucya muttered to herself. “Shit, shit, shit. Where are you when I need you, Max?”
She briefly considered calling for Jake over the PA, but dismissed the idea quickly. Those outside would hear the call and would be waiting for him. She didn’t know what they had in mind when they got to see the captain, but from their tone she was sure it wouldn’t be good.
She looked around the bridge, making sure that she was safe. The broken windows had been covered up with high-strength plastic sheeting by a team from engineering. The hatch for the fire escape was bolted shut from the inside. There was no possibility of using it. It couldn’t be locked from the outside, and leaving it open would compromise the bridge. Nobody could get in. The only problem was that she couldn’t get out. She picked up the telephone and started calling round the heads of departments.
• • •
As he was already down on deck two, Jake figured he should make the effort to go down one more flight of stairs and congratulate Martin on getting the generator going again. He walked into the engine room to see a group of three engineers high-fiving each other.
“Captain on deck!” one of them shouted upon spotting him.
“Yes, yes, you can dispense with all that. So, the generator’s going? That’s excellent news, well done.”
“It was harder than we thought. That ash had fused together in the confined space, and when it cooled it went rock hard. We had to chisel some of it out, and even now there’s some still in there, but we made good time,” a short, tubby man in greasy overalls said, beaming. Jake thought that he couldn’t possibly have got into the funnel himself, but didn’t say anything.
“Make sure Martin lets you guys get some rest soon, you’ve earned it.”
“Taking over down here too, are you?” Martin appeared from behind a mass of pipes.
“No, of course not, Martin. Just saying what a great job you and your team have done. What about the engine, is she ready to start?”
“I’d like to run some diagnostics before we do that,” Martin said. “She’s probably fine, but we need to check the cooling intake. She’ll need the preheaters on too. With the generator out for so long, she’ll be cold. When we start her up it will have to be done gently. I hope you’re not expecting a fast getaway.”
“Far from it. Take all the time you need, as long as we can move tomorrow morning.”
Martin nodded, and disappeared back the way he had come.
“So,” Jake said, looking around, “I don’t suppose any of you chaps have seen Tania Bloom around have you?”
Three heads shook in unison.
Twenty-Two
MAX SLIPPED BACK down the corridor. He’d followed the men without being seen, heard their demand at the door to the bridge. He knew he shouldn’t have listened to Jake, should have kept the rifle handy. He wondered if he could pull the same trick as earlier and use the bridge fire escape to go and get it back. The trouble was that pesky Russian girl was in there. She went all doe eyed every time the captain was around, probably wouldn’t stand for him using a gun when lover boy had asked him not to. No, the captain wanted things sorted out by peaceful means, so the captain could sort them out himself. He just had to find him.
• • •
“He was here, but that was a while ago. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Okay, thanks, Martin.”
Lucya sank into her chair. She’d called everyone she could think of, and every time she’d either just missed him, or he hadn’t been there at all.
Three bangs at the door.
“We’re still here. If you’ve been lying to us and the captain is in there, there’s going to be trouble.”
“I am trying to locate the captain!” Lucya was losing patience with these people. “If you are not happy about that, then perhaps you should return to your cabins and have a lie down!”
• • •
Max called on various areas of the ship and was met with the same responses Lucya had encountered.
“You’ve just missed him.”
“Haven’t seen him.”
“Wouldn’t know what he looked like if I had seen him!”
He decided all he could do was wait until twenty-two hundred hours, when everyone was due to reconvene on the bridge. If he waited further up the corridor, he had a chance of intercepting Jake before he got there, and could at least warn him there may be trouble ahead. In the meantime, he fancied a cigarette. Now the power was back on he couldn’t risk smoking inside or the detectors would probably start blaring out their horrible high-pitched squawk. He pushed open a door and stepped out onto the deck thirteen stern terrace.
“Well now, isn’t that just grand,” he said. “I spend half an hour looking all over for you, and here you are, taking it easy outside.”
“Hey, Max. What’s up? I was taking five minutes of quiet time before going down to the bridge.”
“Right. About that. You’re not going to get much quiet time on the bridge, there’s a horde of angry passengers waiting for you.”
“What? Who let them in?”
“No, no, not on the bridge. But they’re in the corridor, waiting to ambush you when you arrive. I followed them up from a little meeting they held in the cinema. I can’t be sure, but I’d say mutiny is on the cards.”
Jake laughed. Max didn’t look impressed.
“Mutiny? Really? Have you been watching too many films, Max?”
“This isn’t a laughing matter. We knew this was a possibility, and now it’s happening.”
“Well then we’d better go and see what they want,” Jake said, and strode off towards the door.
Twenty-Three
“GENTLEMEN,” JAKE SAID as he approached the group camped out in front of the bridge entrance. “Oh, and lady, excuse me.”
There were twelve of them in all, eleven men and a woman. All were in their late twenties or early thirties. Only one was standing, and he appeared to be the ringleader, because the others all looked to him for a response when Jake spoke.
“I am Melvin Sherwood, and I am the representative for the unrepresented, the voice of the unheard, spokesperson for the silent majority.”
“I think that means he’s in charge of this rabble,” Max said loudly.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr Sherwood. I’m Jake Noah, captain of the ship.” Jake offered a hand, but it was ignored.
“What happened to Captain Ibsen?”
“Shall we discuss this inside?” He indicated the door.
“Jake, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Max said. “Shall I disperse this crowd so we can get on with business?”
“Nonsense. Sorry, Mr Sherwood, this is Max Mooting, he’s head of security.”
Max raised his eyes to
the ceiling. So much for keeping a discreet eye on goings on. Sherwood didn’t quite know what to say; the wind had been taken out of his sails. He’d come expecting confrontation, prepared for a fight, and was met with a young captain acting very reasonably. But it was early days, he thought. The captain hadn’t heard their demands yet.
“Lucya, could you open the door, please,” Jake called.
There was a clunk, the noise of sliding metal, the click of a lock, and the door swung open.
“Please, let’s go inside.”
The group scrambled to their feet and rushed onto the bridge. Sherwood joined them, followed by Jake and Max, who closed the door behind them, but left it unbolted.
“I’m afraid we don’t have seating for everyone,” Jake said, looking around at the sparsely furnished control room. “We’re not used to having such large groups up here. So, if you don’t mind standing…? Now, how can I help? What’s this all about?”
Once again the assembled passengers looked to Melvin as their spokesperson. He glanced around at the expectant group, and began his barely rehearsed pitch.
“In the last twelve hours this ship has not moved. We have been told that food and water are to be rationed with immediate effect. We have spent most of the day without power or light, and no effort has been made to inform us why.”