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Noah's Ark: Survivors

Page 9

by Dayle, Harry


  “That’s not true!” Lucya interjected.

  Jake held up a hand. “Lucya, please, let him continue.”

  “We all saw the television report of the asteroid, we all have friends and families back home. We need to go back, to see what has happened to them. We cannot sit here and wait to die. Passengers outnumber staff by two to one, yet these decisions have been made without the involvement of any passengers. The minority are deciding for the majority. This cannot continue. We are here to take over control of the ship. I will assume the role of captain, and your staff will answer to me.”

  “I see,” Jake said. “You understand, of course, that our priority since the asteroid passed over has been to save lives by making the ship safe, and by preserving our resources? You are quite right, passengers’ views should be taken into consideration going forward.” Jake winced as he heard himself use the phrase; he had always hated management speak. “Am I to assume you have been elected to the position of spokesperson by a majority of passengers?”

  “You’re not listening to me, Mr Noah. This isn’t about taking our views into consideration. This is about redistributing authority. We’re taking over. You’re done here. This ship is going home.”

  Max took a step towards Sherwood, but Jake glared at him to back off.

  “Mr Sherwood, this ship is the property of Pelagios Line until evidence says otherwise. Myself and my crew are employees of Pelagios Line, and are responsible for the safety of the Spirit of Arcadia and her passengers, our customers. Who knows, perhaps the world has ended and there is no more Pelagios Line, or shareholders, or indeed anyone else, but until someone can prove that to me, nothing has changed. I’m willing to listen to the views of passengers through a properly elected spokesperson, which it seems, as you ignored my question, you are not. Now, if that is all, I have a lot to discuss with my crew, so if you’d like to return to the public areas of the ship?”

  “We thought you might react this way,” Sherwood said, a nasty grin spreading across his face. “So we came prepared. We aren’t taking no for an answer.” He turned to look at the woman in the group and nodded to her. She fished a mobile phone from her pocket and passed it to Melvin. He pushed a button, slid a finger across the screen and held it out for Jake to see.

  “No!” Jake said. “Where is she? What have you done with Tania?”

  • • •

  Tania Bloom opened her eyes and looked around as best she could. Her hands and feet were bound, her knees were pressed against her chest, and more binding held them in place. A woman’s scarf had been folded and tied in a gag over her mouth. Not that anyone would hear her scream if she tried. Not up here in one of the luxury suites; they were soundproofed.

  She was shut in a wardrobe. Not many people would have been able to recognise the precise wardrobe if they were in the same position, but Tania knew every cabin and every suite on board like the back of her hand. She was a hands-on kind of manager, and regularly inspected the work of her housekeeping team. Her spot-checks were legendary. She had the ability to find dust in places no human should ever have to look. Even now, bound and gagged in the bottom of a cupboard, she couldn’t help but notice a cobweb between the back wall and the hanging rail.

  • • •

  “I said, what have you done with Tania?” Jake repeated.

  “She’s safe. Well, as safe as you can be when you’re tied up. She’s with the passengers now. It’s an equitable swap. We’ve taken one of your senior staff, you get to take a passenger. That would be me. Like I said, I’m taking charge.”

  “You’re doing no such thing, son,” Max said. In two giant paces he was behind Sherwood, clamping the young man’s hands in his own.

  “Tell your ogre to unhand me.”

  “Tell us where Tania is,” Jake said.

  “This is very simple,” said Sherwood. “My people are holding Mrs Bloom. They are under strict instructions that if they don’t get confirmation I’m in charge by ten thirty, they are to kill her. Then they will abduct another of your crew members, and we’ll start again. Now, unhand me.”

  “You animal!” Lucya spat the words in his face. “You piece of shit!”

  Three of the rebel passengers surrounded her, restraining her hands. She kicked and screamed until they forced her to the ground.

  “She can’t be far. We’ll search the entire ship if we have to, but we’ll find her.” Jake’s mind was racing while he spoke.

  “Really? You’ve got about forty five-minutes to do it. Of course, you would have had longer, but you kept us waiting out there. That’s less than five minutes per deck. Think you can find her in time?”

  “Max, let him go.”

  “What? You’re not going to listen to this jumped-up little idiot, are you?”

  “Tania’s life could be at stake.”

  “You think he’s going to let her go? Come on, think about it. You give him what he wants, he can’t let her go; he knows what we’ll do to him afterwards.” He glared at Sherwood as he spoke.

  “Your ogre isn’t as stupid as he looks,” Sherwood said. “We have no intention of letting her go. Like I said, an equitable exchange. She becomes a passenger, I become crew. Well, captain. Unless you refuse, in which case she becomes polar bear food. Did the polar bears survive, do you think?”

  “I can’t relinquish control of this vessel. Maybe we can come to some sort of compromise.”

  “Oh for goodness sake, have you gone insane?” Max propped himself up against a console, his forehead in his hand.

  Melvin said nothing. He was thinking hard. So far everything was happening exactly like Flynn had said it would. Now he had to decide. He wanted to hold out, to force their hand, to take charge of the ship. But Flynn had been adamant: they would never let him take control, he’d said, it was out of the question. They would take the risk of losing Tania and lock down the ship. They would have emergency procedures for that. He had to play the long game, to get a foot in the door. That was the true purpose of the mission. But he couldn’t be seen to give in too easily.

  “The passengers have a right to be heard,” Sherwood said coolly.

  “And I agree with you,” Jake said. “But this isn’t the way to go about it. There is a chain of command, procedure to follow. I cannot hand over control to a passenger. But I could appoint a passenger representative to join the senior officers when we are making any important decisions.”

  “Not just for meetings. There should be a passenger representative on the bridge at all times. Overseeing the operation of the ship, with the power to veto any decision.”

  “Okay, we could have a passenger here all the time, but no power of veto. There are international rules and regulations that must be respected. The captain has the final say.” Sherwood was shaking his head, but Jake continued regardless. “But the passenger representative will have an equal voice among the senior crew.”

  “We can quit saying passenger representative; that will be me. And when I am not on the bridge, it will be one of my deputies.” He looked at his fellow passengers, three of whom were still restraining Lucya.

  “You haven’t been elected. There are nearly two thousand passengers on this ship. How many have given their support for this?” Jake raised an eyebrow.

  “We don’t have time to ask them all. But I have many supporters.”

  “Alright. You get a seat on the bridge. But we’re going to be holding a census tomorrow. We can ask the passengers to vote for a representative at the same time.”

  Melvin hadn’t anticipated this, and he wasn’t sure how to react. He certainly couldn’t take the risk of any kind of election, not yet. He needed to prove himself first. He decided to stay on the attack. It had worked quite well so far.

  “Yes, there should be an election,” he said. “But it will be for captain of the ship. We set sail tomorrow. We return to port to find out what has happened. If, as the television suggests, the asteroid has destroyed everything, then Pelagios Line is no longer
the owner of this ship, and the rules no longer apply, right?”

  “That would be the case, yes,” Jake agreed.

  “So I will be the representative until we know what has happened. And then, we will hold an election to see who will be the captain. These are my terms. You now have about forty minutes, but it shouldn’t take that long to decide.”

  Jake considered the proposition. It seemed fair. The passengers did deserve a say in what happened. And if, as he was sure would be the case, they turned out to be the only survivors of the asteroid, then an election would be the perfect opportunity to stand down. He hadn’t asked to be captain, didn’t want to be captain, and certainly didn’t want to be leader of the last human settlement on earth.

  “Then we have an agreement,” Jake said. “But I need to see evidence that Tania is untied and being treated properly.”

  Max banged his head against the console. “This is a really bad idea,” he groaned.

  “Now please release my radio officer, and tell me how we get your message to those holding Tania.”

  Melvin nodded to his supporters on the floor, who helped Lucya to her feet then stepped back in with the others behind their leader.

  “There must be an announcement from the captain that we will set sail tomorrow morning.”

  “I can’t promise that. I don’t know if the engine will be ready by then.”

  “You’d better hope it will be, because if you don’t put out that call in the next thirty-five minutes, chomp chomp.”

  Jake sighed, walked over to a console, picked up a handset, and flipped up a button marked PA.

  • • •

  The wardrobe door opened and light streamed in, blinding Tania. Two pairs of hands grabbed her and pulled her roughly from the confines of her prison and onto the cabin floor.

  “Congratulations,” a voice above her said. “You just got promoted to passenger.”

  Twenty-Four

  “I DON’T UNDERSTAND, Flynn, how is this good news? Not only are you not in charge, you’re not even the guy on the bridge.”

  “You stupid woman, haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said?”

  “Yes! I thought you were sending those boys to take over, to organise some kind of mutiny.” Eileen backed away from her husband, his red face a sure sign she was making him angry.

  “But they were never going to be put in charge. This is my foot in the door. Now we have a spy on the bridge, someone who can judge the lay of the land. Someone who can plant the seeds of doubt in the crew. While we work on the passengers, Melvin will work on the crew. Softly, softly, Eileen.”

  “But if the captain is deposed—”

  “When, Eileen. When the captain is deposed,” Flynn cut in.

  “Sorry, Flynn. When the captain is deposed, won’t Melvin take over?”

  “Melvin has a more important role to play than he knows. But trust me when I say that he will never run this ship.”

  Twenty-Five

  THERE WAS A knock at the door to the bridge. Max opened it, letting Martin and Grau in.

  “Did we miss something?” Martin asked. “Who were that lot we passed on their way out?”

  “Nobody important,” Max grunted.

  Melvin cleared his throat loudly. “I wouldn’t say that. Sorry, we haven’t been introduced. I’m Melvin Sherwood, representative of the passengers.”

  Grau cast a glance in Jake’s direction, then reached out to shake the new man’s hand.

  “Grau Lister, doctor. Chief medical officer. Pleased to meet you.”

  Melvin shook his hand limply, then looked at Martin.

  “Oakley, Martin. Chief engineer.”

  The two men shook hands briefly. Lucya watched the scene, tutted loudly, and walked off to her communications console.

  “So, shall we?” Jake said. He led the group over to the map table, now cleared of charts. “Lucya, can you join us?”

  “Just checking the radios, be there in thirty seconds.”

  There was another knock at the door. Max sighed and went to open it.

  “How many more are we expecting?” he called back over his shoulder.

  “Two. Silvia, of course, and Claude Dupont,” Jake said.

  “Oh Jesus, why the hell did you invite him?” Martin looked aghast.

  “If we don’t want to die of starvation or malnutrition, we need to keep Claude on side. And anyway, he’s not so bad. If anyone can keep that kitchen in order and enforce strict rationing, Claude can.”

  “He’s French, how do we know he won’t go on strike?” Lucya asked, pulling a face.

  “By including him in these meetings. Hi, Claude, thanks for coming. Hi, Silvia.”

  They joined the group at the table.

  “Claude, I think you know everyone except Melvin Sherwood. He’s here to represent the passengers on board.”

  “Who cares what the passengers think about anything? Will you be inviting some penguins up ’ere too? Perhaps the polar bears would like representation?”

  “Claude, you know how important it is to listen to everyone’s view. Liberté, égalité, all that?”

  “Hmmph.” Claude gave a shrug. He looked around, found a stool, and sat down.

  “Silvia Brook, hotel director,” Silvia said, offering a hand to Melvin. He shook it while looking down his nose at her.

  “How’s the leg, Grau?” Jake looked sympathetically at the doctor.

  “Much improved, yes, thank you. Kiera patched it up for me, and some painkillers and a little rest have helped.”

  Lucya stood up from her post, shook her head, and wandered over to the map table. Jake looked at her and raised an eyebrow enquiringly.

  “No, nothing. Static on all channels. All the satellite feeds are dead, nothing on the shortwave. I still can’t even find any working navigation beacons. It’s like the world outside just disappeared.”

  “Would you say,” Melvin piped up, “that it is therefore likely that Pelagios Line has bitten the dust and that this ship is no longer the property of anyone or any organisation?”

  “Now, now, let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Jake said, trying to keep the peace.

  “Actually, Mr Sherwood, no I wouldn’t say that.” Lucya fixed him with a stern look. “There could be many reasons for radio silence, including loss of power.”

  “Okay, we discussed all this last time.” Jake wanted to move things forward. “We’ll go round the table quickly. Martin, good job on getting the generator going. When do you think we can start the engine?”

  “The guys are running their final checks now, but they’re going to have to stop for some rest before long. Cleaning out that funnel took it out of them. We can probably start winding her up slowly around nine hundred hours.”

  “Right, that means we can start moving in the morning, as I promised in the last PA call.” He looked pointedly at Melvin as he spoke.

  “Grau, things calmed down in medical?”

  “Yes, for sure. There is just the problem of the unknowns we talked about.”

  “Right. Barry and I will join you down in the temporary morgue in the morning to try and identify any crew. Melvin, I need you to come too; you’ll need to photograph all of the deceased for our records.”

  “I’m not your lackey!” Melvin looked shocked.

  “No, you’re the passenger representative. You need to pull your weight just like every other department head here. I would have asked the head of housekeeping to perform the task, but she is unfortunately not available for the time being.”

  Melvin snarled, but said nothing. Lucya smiled and studied the nails of her left hand.

  “Max, anything I need to know about?”

  “There was, but the problem has reached a conclusion.” Max was staring at Melvin.

  “So, Lucya, where are we headed tomorrow?”

  “I’ve plotted a course for Longyearbyen in Svalbard. It’s the most northerly permanent settlement that we can reach with the least fuel. Technically speak
ing, Barentsburg is nearer, and we’ll have to almost go past it, but it’s difficult to access. We can’t dock there.”

  “Svalbard? What use is that? We need to head for Portsmouth, or New York, and see what’s happened to the civilised world!” Melvin said.

  “We couldn’t reach either without taking on more fuel,” Lucya said flatly. “And as we don’t know if there is anywhere left where we can get fuel, it would not be prudent to set off on such a pointless voyage. If we go to Longyearbyen, we can assess the state of the place, and possibly find fuel there.”

  “Whoa, I thought we were just repositioning, not actually going anywhere?” Martin said.

  “We were. But now we’re not. Plans have changed,” Jake replied. He knew that was coming.

  “So you take over the ship, then let the passengers run the show? Bloody marvellous, I’ve heard it all now.” Martin walked away from the table and slumped into the chair at Lucya’s radio console.

  Jake ignored him, and looked back to Lucya to continue.

  “Longyearbyen has diesel reserves that they use for their own vehicles, mostly snowmobiles. If, and it is a big if, the town and its fuel are still there, then we can consider exploring further.”

  “How much fuel, if it’s still there?” Jake asked.

  “Next to nothing by the standards of what this ship consumes. But there’s an airport three kilometres from the town. This is Martin’s area, but I’m hoping we could use aircraft fuel, as well as the diesel?”

  Martin looked up. He couldn’t help but be interested in the technical aspect of the plan.

  “Kerosene burns hotter than diesel,” he said. “We’d need to put in some kind of additive, or make some adjustments to the engines.” He rubbed his chin absent-mindedly. “But if we mixed it with the diesel we’re already carrying, it could work. The more diesel we could find though, the less chance of damaging the engines.”

  “This sounds excellent, good work, Lucya. How long will it take us to get there?” Jake asked.

 

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