Noah's Ark: Survivors (4 page)

“Thanks. Where is everyone? I thought the crew would come back here. Where’s Lucya? She was headed for the bridge last time I saw her.” Jake looked anxious.

“Place was deserted when I got here a few minutes ago. Have you seen anyone else? I think we should gather the senior crew members together.”

“Apart from Lucya, only Chief Engineer Oakley down in the engine room. He had to kill the generator. We’re without power for I don’t know how long.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Any suggestions on how we find the rest of the senior officers? No power, no comms.”

“The emergency PA system should be working. Oakley said it runs off a battery backup.”

Hollen walked over to a console and picked up a handset that looked more like it belonged on a telephone. He flicked a button, and spoke quietly.

“All senior officers are to report to the bridge immediately. I repeat, all senior officers to the bridge.”

“That’s it?” Jake looked surprised. “You’re not going to try and calm the passengers down, tell them what’s happening?”

“What
is
happening, Jake? Do you know? Because I have no frigging idea. This morning I was winning at Monopoly. Half an hour ago, the world was ending. Then we get sandblasted or something, and now…” He stared outside. “Now I don’t know what happens next. So what do you suggest I say to the passengers?”

Jake didn’t have an answer.

Six

F
LYNN
B
AKEMAN
STEPPED
outside into Palm Plaza. The park was located in the centre of the ship, a vast open space planted with trees and lush vegetation. Balconied cabins towered above on each side. Shops and restaurants opened out onto the plaza over two levels. Normally, the place was buzzing, packed with people walking through, or sunbathing on the patches of grass, or spilling out from the cafes, drinking brightly coloured cocktails while enjoying live music being played under the palm trees. For this Arctic cruise, huge gas heaters had been installed too. The cruise company were apparently oblivious to the irony of burning thousands of extra tons of fossil fuels so that passengers could enjoy outdoor activities in the warm whilst on a trip to see ice caps that were melting because of global warming.

Today, though, the park was, like the rest of the ship, grey and burnt out. The palm trees were smouldering, the rest of the plants and flowers lost under a thin layer of grey ash. Some of the shop windows had blown in, and many of the balconies had shattered, scattering shards of glass throughout the former greenery.

To Flynn, the grey, desolate scene before him mirrored the despair he felt within. He was alive. He had, against all the odds, somehow survived. Judgement day had come, and his life had been spared. He couldn’t understand. He had always been a faithful servant of the Lord. He prayed every day. He was a true soldier of the faith. And yet, when the end came, he had not been taken.

He walked to the middle of the plaza and looked up at the grey, ashen sky.
 

“Why?” he cried at the top of his voice. “Why have you done this to me? What must I do to make this right?” His words sounded weak and pathetic in the vastness of the open space. He sank to his knees, and with balled fists, began pounding the floor, roaring incomprehensibly. Clouds of dust puffed into the air with every impact. When he had exhausted himself, he remained on the ground, curled over, his head on his knees.

And then, he smiled.

God had spoken to him. He knew now why his wife had won this cruise holiday in a radio phone-in competition. He understood why he had been taken away from his home, and certain death. More importantly, he knew exactly what he was supposed to do now.

Seven

L
UCYA
WAS
TORN
. She had managed to lower five burning lifeboats to sea, but there were three more to go on this side of the ship, and another eight on the other side. She was drained of energy, her burnt hand was in agony, and now the staff captain had called all senior crew to the bridge. As chief radio officer, responsible for communications and navigation, she certainly counted as senior crew, but Lucya decided the lifeboats were more important. Emergency flares in one of those she had already released had exploded as it drifted away from the
Spirit of Arcadia
. They had turned the already raging fire into a true inferno. If the same thing happened to a lifeboat still on board, they would have a serious problem on their hands.
 

She put her jacket around the release handle of the next boat, and heaved with all her might. It refused to budge. She gave a scream, took a few steps back, and gave it a kick with the heel of her sturdy black boot. Nothing. Taking a closer look it became obvious why: the steel cable wrapped around the drum of the winch had started to fuse to itself with the heat of the fire.

“Young lady, maybe this would help?” a voice from behind her called.

She looked around and found a tall thin gentleman smiling at her. He was much older than her, in his seventies, she thought, with thinning white hair, and dressed casually. Passenger, not crew. He held out a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters, and raised an eyebrow.

“We really should get a move on. I believe the flares in some of these could go off with quite a bang.”

He spoke with a refined accent, London or thereabouts. Lucya had worked on ships long enough and met enough people to have become quite good at placing accents. She gave a half smile, grabbed the bolt cutters, and in one smooth movement, snipped through the cable that connected the lifeboat to the winch. The bows of the small craft fell away, but with the stern cable still attached it couldn’t entirely free itself, and swung dangerously close to the hull of the cruiser.

“I did say ‘we’,” the man said. He walked to where the second cable fed down through a shackle before connecting to the winch, and with a second pair of bolt cutters, set it free, sending it crashing into the ocean below. The man wandered off casually in the direction of the next boat.

“Wait, who are you, anyway?” Lucya shouted after him. She sprinted to catch up.

“Tom Sanderson,” the man said without looking at her.

“What are you doing walking around this ship with bolt cutters, Tom Sanderson?”

“I’m cutting free burning lifeboats before they endanger the ship and those people on board who have survived events up to this point.” He still didn’t look at her; instead, he positioned his bolt cutters on the cable of the next lifeboat. “Shall we try and better coordinate this one?”

Lucya placed her own cutters on the second cable.

“After three,” Tom said. “1…2….3.”

The two of them snipped at the same moment, sending the burning lifeboat smashing into the dark and icy water. Tom had already set off towards the next one without waiting to watch the descent.

“What I meant,” Lucya was out of breath from all the physical exertion, “is where did you get them?”

“If that’s what you meant then that’s what you should have asked, don’t you think?”

Lucya stopped in her tracks.

“Listen,” she said. “I’m a senior officer and I need to get back to the bridge. Think you can manage the rest on your own?” She handed her bolt cutters to Tom. He couldn’t help but notice the state of her hand as he took hold of them.

“You want to get that looked at,” he said, then turned and set off towards the next burning lifeboat.

Eight

J
AKE
WAS
GETTING
worried. There was still no sign of Lucya. Chief Engineer Martin Oakley had made his way to the bridge. Hotel Director Silvia Brook, responsible for passenger facilities, was also present. The only other crew member who had turned up so far was the head of security, Max Mooting. There was no sign of Captain Ibsen.

“Looks like this is the best we can hope for,” Hollen said. “We should probably get started.”

As he spoke, the bridge door opened slowly. Jake felt a surge of hope, but it wasn’t Lucya who entered, it was Grau Lister, the chief medical officer.

“Grau, what happened?” Hollen asked.

Lister limped in, aided by a crutch. His left leg dragged uselessly behind him.

“Ash,” he said. “Hot ash. Burned right through the muscle. I was lucky, I think it also took out the nerves. I can’t feel a thing.”

Silvia rushed over and tried to support him, but he brushed her away.

“No, no, it’s nothing, don’t fuss. I’ve seen much worse,” he said. And he had.

The assembled crew arranged themselves around the map table. Jake found a chair for Lister. The table was high and the medical man could only just see over it from his perch.

“So, what on Earth do we do now?” Hollen asked, looking around the table. “I can’t work out if we’re the lucky ones or not. We survived, but for what? I mean, where do we go?”

“We don’t go anywhere!” Silvia piped up. “Why is that your first question? We need to get this ship secure, assess damage, and most importantly make sure the people aboard are all safe. Those still alive, anyway.”

“With respect, Silvia, and I know the wellbeing of passengers is your job, we can’t stay here or we’ll freeze. Visiting the Arctic Circle is all well and good when you have a nice heated ship to retreat into, but with our generator out, we don’t have that luxury.” Hollen gestured towards Oakley, who nodded in agreement. “Starting the main engine will provide us with heat and power, and we can head for warmer waters. That doesn’t stop you getting the people aboard organised en route.”

“Staff Captain.” When Lister spoke, all at the table automatically turned to look at him. He was the oldest person present, and his clipped German accent gave him an air of authority. “You speak of warmer waters. Just how warm are you thinking?”

Hollen raised an eyebrow in response to the question.

“I ask,” Lister continued, “because we have witnessed first-hand the devastating ash tail that followed that extra-terrestrial rock. We were lucky, we caught only the end of it as it disappeared into the sky. Further south though, we don’t know what that ash has done to the sea. In more significant quantities it could have cooled, lumped together, formed lava rocks. Do you want to sail into these unknown dangers?”

“Rocks sink. I don’t see the problem?”

“Lava rocks are light, full of air pockets. They may float,” Lister said.

“If they are light enough to float then they are no danger to this ship.”

“And if the ash has formed into a carpet of molten rock floating on the surface of the ocean?” Lister wasn’t giving up his position.

“Grau’s right, we don’t know what’s out there.” Jake was surprised to hear himself speak up. “Martin, how much fuel are we carrying?”

“About three thousand tonnes, give or take. We’re good for nine days cruising, ten at a push.”

“Once that fuel is gone, we have no electricity. No heat, no light, no fresh water if we can’t operate the desalination plant. No sanitation. What could still be out there that’s worth risking all that on?” Jake rubbed his eyes, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

“Or to put it another way,” Hollen said, “we stay here for what, a month? Running just the generator. And then what? In a month we have no heat, light, water, and certainly by then no food, and no prospect of finding any elsewhere, because we can’t start the engines!”

Martin pulled a face.

“Problem?” Hollen asked him.

“Maybe. Probably. Not sure yet. It’s just, well we may not be able to start the engines yet anyway.”

Hollen remained silent and waited for the engineer to explain further.

“We had to cut the generator because the exhaust is blocked with ash in the funnel. There’s a good chance the exhaust for the main engines will be blocked in the same way. I found one of my guys when I was on my way up here. I’ve sent him to gather together a small crew and go and assess the damage, and start repairs if they can.”

“Listen, personally I don’t care whether we stay here or move; I think we’re dead either way,” Max interjected. All eyes turned to the security chief, who had until now remained silent. “But whatever happens, we need to talk to the passengers and we need to do it fast. If we don’t show some leadership, let them know we’re still here running this ship, we’re going to have riots on our hands before long.”

“We’ve already had riots breaking out; everyone thought the world was about to end,” Hollen said.

“No, Max is right, things are already starting to get heated out there,” a voice said from the doorway.

“Lucya!” Jake felt a wave of relief wash over him. As she joined the others at the table, he caught sight of her hand. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“It’s fine, a bit painful, but I’ll live.”

“Two of my nurses are getting medical back into working order. It is not easy, without electricity, but we have a lot of wounded to treat. I suggest you get yourself down there as soon as we are done here.” Lister nodded at the radio officer.

“There are others who need help more than me,” Lucya said.

“This is true, but we need you more than we need some others. Get yourself a patch on that. It won’t take long.”

“Have you seen the captain, Lucya?” Hollen asked.

“No.”

“Make an announcement, Johnny, let the passengers know we’re in control. We can’t wait around for Isben to turn up and do it. We don’t even know if he’s still alive.” Max looked serious.

“Okay.” Hollen banged both his palms on the table, bringing the focus back to himself. “Jake, you and I need to get out there and try and find the captain. You take decks six to thirteen, I’ll check his quarters and the lower decks. I can’t call for him over the PA, it won’t look good to the passengers that we’ve lost him. Lucya, get your hand sorted and then come back here, get on the radios and see if you can find out what’s happening out there. We don’t know what damage that asteroid did between the satellite feed going off and now. The situation might not be as bad as we think. Martin, you can get power to the comms console, right?”

Martin nodded.

“Great. Do it, then help Jake look for the captain. Grau, you need to get back to medical and do what you can for the wounded. Max, we’ve still got fires burning on the main pool deck, probably up on deck thirteen too; that ash burnt right through the roof. Get some of the crew together if you can, organise putting those fires out and getting this ship safe. If you can’t find crew, use passengers. Some of them are already out there doing the job. Silvia, you and your team are our public face. You need to reassure the passengers that we know what we’re doing here. Brief as many of your people as you can, tell them everything is under control, and get that message out as far and as fast as possible. The longer we can keep everyone calm the better. We’ll all meet back here in an hour, hopefully with the captain, and we’ll take it from there.” Hollen looked around at his tiny crew. “Well, come on then, get to it!”