by ML Banner
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Jörgen paused and gazed at his staff captain. “I don’t mind telling you that I’m terrified of what we’ll be dealing with in the next few days.”
This caught Jean Pierre by complete surprise. He had never thought his captain was afraid of anything. Crazed terrorists proved that to him. Plus, he wasn’t speaking about what just happened; he was speaking about what was going to happen.
Jörgen turned on his tablet, scrolled down the screen, and started to read off a laundry list of subjects which normally would be terrifying for any cruise ship, but seemed mellow by comparison to what they were witnessing right now in Malaga.
“We’ve already spoken about the Icelandic volcano, which is still erupting, and so is Mount Etna. We know these are causing all sorts of navigational difficulties to the north and east. And we must be prepared for the sea traffic, which will be abnormally heavy. But what has me most concerned is the report of tremors on two of the Canaries. There was one report that stated that La Palma might blow any day now. Here it is.” Jörgen read the report dispassionately, like he was reading off the daily fuel numbers.
Although he had just said otherwise, Jörgen seemed completely calm. And it was having an effect on Jean Pierre. He could feel his blood pressure simmering and he pushed up straighter in his chair. He no longer felt the uncontrollable panic that was overwhelming him only moments ago, in spite of the terrifying news.
Just then, Jean Pierre realized this was by design.
Jörgen knew him that well, that he obviously saw he was about ready to break. This short time in the ready room was to enable them to take stock of what they knew, as well as what they didn’t know. To focus on the ship-related issues and the corresponding actions they would need to take. It was all bad news. But it was factual. They could apply their years of experience to each of these data points and come up with the best solution available. And when new data arrived, they would render similar or different judgments. They would figure it out, together. Just like they always did. They would figure this out too.
“What do the reports for Gibraltar look like tomorrow?” Jean Pierre asked, preparing himself for the worst.
Jörgen tapped a corner of his screen and scanned through the summary provided by Jessica, who besides overseeing navigation looked at weather, currents, ship traffic, and anything else that might affect their successfully making it to the next port on time.
“Looks like smooth sailing. Since we’re leaving a little early, we can take our time getting there and assess the situation in the Canaries as we get closer,” Jörgen resolved.
“Okay, I’ll ask about the horse in the room—”
“—you mean elephant?” Jörgen corrected, smiling at Jean Pierre’s misstatement.
Jean Pierre was always trying to improve upon his American idioms, but he still had a ways to go. Since Jörgen was a lover of American culture, he taught Jean Pierre many he hadn’t yet heard. This slip would be fast forgotten—Jörgen often kidded him about his slip-ups—because Jean Pierre was not on his A-game. Another idiom.
“Yes, the elephant, or rather, thousands of crazy rats...” Jean Pierre trailed off, unsure what to ask.
There was a knock on the door. It was Jessica.
“Sorry to interrupt.” She nodded first to Jörgen and then Jean Pierre. “We’ve released from the port, but we had to abandon our stern line because the dock was overwhelmed by... by the...” She paused, her eyes welled and her lower lip quivered. She recalled the mental picture of the dock workers being attacked, and of the rats running up the line toward the ship. She shook her head. “Sorry. Also, there’s no answer from the harbor master—or anyone at the port authority, for that matter. As far as we can tell, the port operators have left the harbor. But there is little to no large traffic right now. Just a few small craft. So I’d recommend we go, while we can.” Jessica hesitated at the door, like she held a secret that she wasn’t supposed to reveal. “And Staff Captain,” she said to Jean Pierre, “Mrs. Williams and her husband did make it on board.”
“Thank you, First Officer. Unless there’s anything more, we’ll be just a minute more,” Jörgen replied and waited for his first officer to leave and close the door behind her. When the door clicked closed, he continued. “The rats at this point don’t matter, Jean Pierre. I fear it’s not the worst thing we’ll witness during this cruise.” He let his words sink in before continuing.
“But our job is still the same: to keep everyone safe, comfortable and happy. In other words, I want us to do everything we can to keep our guests and crew thinking about anything other than what’s going on in the outside world.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“And find me Spillman!”
05
Robert Spillman
Security Chief Robert Spillman had a secret he was desperate to keep under wraps. His professional life depended on it.
Before his appointment, he waited for the monitor room shift change. When the incoming monitor stood in front of the MR door’s small inset window, the outgoing monitor got up and left the room to “pass the baton” or hand over the MR key just outside the door. This process ensured that no more than one monitor was in the room at a time, which Robert argued helped to protect the ship’s privacy policy. Actually, Spillman’s procedure promoted the breaking of the ship’s privacy policy, and that was on purpose.
Usually, the outgoing monitor took the opportunity at this point in the key exchange to also pass on stories about the passengers who did stupid things because they didn’t realize they were being watched and recorded on one of the four hundred and sixty cameras spread throughout the ship. Discussing what passengers did on camera during work was against Regal European’s policies. But that never stopped them.
Like Robert, the monitors attempted to keep their “non-work” activities outside the ever-present cameras’ purview. Since there were no cameras just outside the MR doorway, the exchange provided the monitors ample opportunity to trade stories and pass notes as to where to find the discussed videos. All video feeds were copied and retained in a multi-terabyte hard drive for the duration of the cruise. The drives were swapped out during the turnover, when a new itinerary started. And then new stupid passenger feeds would be copied and stored again.
While the two monitors were occupied with each other, Robert made sure he wasn’t seen and flicked a switch that turned off all the deck 2 cameras. He was purposely quick and stealthy about this, as he only had a few minutes today before the captain noticed he was missing. He also knew the discussion outside wouldn’t last as long, as there were no stories yet to tell about this cruise: the passengers were just getting on board.
Once the passengers’ lips had become more pliable after the application of the ship’s overpriced alcohol and they had tested out the boundaries of the ship, the stories between the incoming and outgoing monitors would be longer and more animated.
He closed the monitor room behind him. His two men’s heads snapped to attention, their lips falling quiet at his presence.
He enjoyed this.
“Don’t mind me, gents. It’s pretty quiet right now, and I won’t be back for a while.” That was code for, Screw off as much as you’d like, because I won’t be watching over you.
That would also give him at least ten minutes to do what he needed to do before being seen.
“Thanks Security Chief,” they both acknowledged, having difficulty holding back their grins.
Robert took the public elevator down six floors to deck 2 and quickly moved forward through the port-side hallway to the first wall panel, using his master key to open a metal cabinet. Inside, multi-colored wires ran up and down the left side of the long foot-deep enclosure, some stopping midway at a circuit board. This was where various electronics for this hallway were connected to the ship’s main lines. He reached in and without hesitation grabbed a blue wire and yanked it out of its board, leaving it just off its connector, as if i
t had somehow jostled itself loose on its own. This would disable only the port-side, deck 2 hall cameras aft of the elevators.
Soon, his on-duty monitor would notice that deck 2 cameras were black. After flicking them back on, if he was paying attention, he’d notice cameras 63 through 68 were still dark. Once it was confirmed that only these deck 2 cameras weren’t working, and it wasn’t a connection in the MR, maintenance would be called to investigate. Robert figured he had at least thirty minutes now.
He wouldn’t need that long.
He shut the panel and casually walked aft, toward cabin 2071.
A couple lurked around their cabin entrance, in between him and his destination, causing Robert to stop in front of a restricted doorway. Using his card, he unlocked and pushed open the door that warned “Crew Only” and hung inside the small well which gave crew access to a separate elevator and stairwell. It was similar to the passengers’ access, but far more utilitarian in design.
He pushed his back into the door, like he was holding it open for a crew member, and listened just out of view for the couple to leave or go back into their cabin. He craned his head forward and cupped a palm around an ear to block out the active chatter coming from above and below him.
The guests closed their door and he heard a female voice say something in German.
He waited for them to turn and exit to the public elevator, a few steps away. They shouldn’t even pass by this doorway.
Robert examined his watch, feeling each minute ebb away deep in his groin.
“Hello, Security Chief,” sang one of the seventy-five or so room attendants, who came from below and turned to ascend the stairwell like a light breeze on his way to a higher deck. Robert didn’t recognize the young Croatian man and guessed he was one of the new crew members, reporting in late. His supervisor would cut him some slack this time, because several of the new crew were late or simply didn’t make it because of the flight delays.
“Excuse me,” a heavyset man said—everyone who took a cruise was heavyset in Robert’s opinion. “Where pool?” The man had a distinctive German accent and obviously a poor command of the English language. There would be a lot of Germans on board this cruise, as the cruise line heavily advertised in Germany.
He almost grunted his reply, but corrected himself quickly. “Take the lift you just passed on your left, and go up seven floors to deck nine. Then walk aft maybe fifty steps and it’s right there.” Robert said this with a fake smile, pointing down the hall. He wanted to say to them, “Can’t you read a fucking map, you stupid krauts?” He didn’t like German cruisers much. They expected perfection from everyone, except themselves.
“Danke,” said the woman, who had to be at least twice the man’s size. They both waddled away, clutching their room towels. Cruisers always brought their room towels to the pool, even though the pool provided towels for them so that they wouldn’t ruin the ones from their room. Not that they cared.
He closed the crew-access door and waited for the unbearably slow German couple to exit.
Finally, they left the hallway.
Robert moved abruptly, like a thoroughbred horse bursting from its starting gate.
Better yet, a stud seeking his mare.
There was no one else in the hallway, plus he had very little time now. He was anxious to get started and not suffer through any more delays that would lessen his time of pleasure. He almost jogged the hundred-yard space to the cabin door, tossing a quick glance at the mostly hidden camera above, which he knew wasn’t working.
He pulled out a different card he’d retained from a fired employee and slipped it into the door, the lock blinking green, telling him he could enter. He let the door shut on its own. The cabin was mostly dark, with both the curtains and the sheers drawn. A small electronic candle pulsed a flicker from the desk area, casting just enough light to see the outline of the bed. This was funny since he didn’t need any mood lighting. He just wanted sex.
“You late. You get in my bed now,” said Chen Lee in her poor impression of a sultry voice.
He slipped off his clothes and slid into bed, instantly feeling her warmth as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.
He had barely fifteen minutes now, so their lovemaking would have to be quick.
06
Deep
“Dammit!” croaked Whaudeep Reddy, or Deep as the other crew called him, banging the flat-screen monitor, as if that would make it work again.
He grabbed the radio microphone, switched to the channel monitored by maintenance and said, “Hey, this is Deep in security. Buzz, are you there?”
“I’m here,” crackled Buzz. He had a longer name that none of the Anglos could pronounce, and since he was the expert at making all things electrical work on the ship, everyone called him Buzz. Both were on their ninth contracts and they’d worked together on the Intrepid all nine years. “What’s up, Deep?”
“The deck 2 hall cameras are down again. I thought your guys had fixed this.” Deep wasn’t accusing his friend, or his mates. But he did want him to know his level of frustration over one of the many things that didn’t seem to work on their fifteen-year-old ship. And this was even after their ship had just come out of dry-dock, where so many things had been replaced and cleaned up.
“Sorry, Deep, I did too. I’ll check it out myself this time.”
“Thanks, Buzz. Hey, I have three for the game tonight.”
Deep and Buzz had an ongoing card game almost every night in the crew living room, especially when they were on the same shift, as they were on this itinerary.
“Excellent. See you after the change. Buzz out.”
Deep almost jumped out of his seat when he realized the staff captain had quietly entered the MR while he was on the radio. Or was it before? He immediately felt his mouth dry up like the desert: the second in command of the ship just heard him talk about their card game. They were not allowed to gamble on the ship, so they used a system of old ravioli noodles, colored to represent different denominations. Either Buzz or he kept a tally of winners and losers. All who played that week would settle up each Friday at the Slop House—the crew’s mini-market—where the loser would buy the winner the equivalent number of desired products using their Regal European Seacards. They played the game in plain sight, so that everyone thought they were just playing for the fun of it. But he always wondered when one of their superiors would find out.
“Sir.” He stood up to greet the ship’s second in command, his right knee banging loudly against his work table. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” His voice cracked.
“Please sit down. I didn’t want to interrupt you. What’s going on with the deck 2 cameras?” Jean Pierre now stood over the young man and glared at the deck 2 monitor, which was black and then flashed images of the starboard cabins, then the forward cabins, aft, then it was dark again.
“Don’t know exactly. When I came onto shift, the switches were off for Decks Two and Five. When I switched them back on, deck 2 never fully came on. We had this same problem yesterday and the day before. So I’m having maintenance look into it again. Well, you probably heard that part.”
Jean Pierre seemed to think about this for a moment and then asked, “Is the security chief around?”
“Ahh, I saw him up here right when I came on shift, but I’m not sure where he went. Do you want me to call him for you?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Actually, I wanted to see the tape on deck 7, the aft suites, for the last hour or so. Can you pull that up for me?”
Deep tossed him a curious glance before working his magic. The staff captain almost never examined video recordings. That’s what the security chief would do, and usually only after one of the passengers had done something to warrant the attention. Deep wanted to take advantage of this rare opportunity to show off his talents to his superior and he started to relax a little, thinking maybe he dodged a bullet on their illegal card game. He knew right where to look for this video, havin
g brought up passenger recordings thousands of times at the insistence of Fish, who had the shift before him, especially tapes of the pretty ones.
Fish, or Fish-Eye as he was called by his mates, had already made a listing of the times and camera numbers for the feeds Deep needed to examine to see the beauties who had checked into their cabins. Today’s listings were for the deck 7 aft and deck 8 forward cameras. Deep hadn’t planned on taking a look at these until after he’d been on his shift for a few hours, when he knew no one else would be checking in on him.
“Here sir,” he said, setting the video replay on 4X, so they could cover the span of an hour in fifteen minutes. Any faster and they’d miss something.
Less than five minutes later, the staff captain had him stop and view it in real time. Yes, Deep thought, just as his friend Fish told him. She is beautiful, for an older woman. And she is blond! He loved blondes.
07
TJ and Ted
4:27 PM
Without missing a step, she flicked her blonde hair back over her shoulder.
They marched aft, down the long hallway, over the ridiculously-colored carpet. Ted trailed behind, their rollered bags squealing their displeasure behind him.
“I just want to get to our room and drink heavily,” Ted said.
“I think 7652 is right down here,” she mumbled, glancing at her Seacard once again for confirmation, even though she knew only the last two digits appeared on it.
“So the last thing I want to do is clink glasses with strangers tonight, or with the captain tomorrow, and all the while pretend everything is good with the world.”
“Here it is right here, corner balcony,” she emoted, all too chipper considering what they just went through.
“Have you heard a word I’ve said?”
“Yep, every one.” She slid her card into the card reader. A little green light pulsed a confirmation that it was the right one, and she pushed the door open a crack.