Lydia roused herself from depression and rose to look out the little window again. The water level in that part of Broadway had dropped significantly in the past few minutes. She estimated it was only about a foot deep now. Either the water was still draining below, or the pumps were doing their job. She hoped it was the latter. Bracing her legs against the back wall of the narrow bypass route, she pushed as hard as she could against the water pressure holding the door closed. The door grudgingly opened a crack and warm seawater spilled into her previously dry haven. It took a good twenty seconds for the water level in the bypass compartment to equalize. Then the door opened smoothly and Lydia waded out onto Broadway. She paused to close the door and secure it, so anyone following her route would be able to use the bypass from the other side.
The equatorial seawater was warm and only came up to her calves. It was almost refreshing and Lydia waded down the corridor with renewed hope and purpose. She saw a minor whirlpool in an alcove and surmised that there were stairs or some other opening that was draining the water, hopefully towards the pumps. She avoided approaching that area and realized that if she survived this, she would never look at a draining sink or bathtub, not to mention a flushing toilet, quite the same way. That brought a slight smile to her face. It broadened when she considered how she must look, especially with all the extra makeup she had applied to play her role as Neptune’s Queen in the Line Crossing ceremony. Her current appearance probably resembled a waterlogged zombie or equally horrifying creature from the netherworld.
Another closed watertight door faced her a hundred feet down Broadway, but she saw several branching corridors in between. Surely one of them must lead to some stairs or a ladder going up to areas of the ship she was more familiar with. She was about to start a systematic search of each possible exit route when she notice a lighted sign protruding into the corridor. It was a white square with a big red cross in the center. Could that be a route to the Medical Center?
Ignoring other options, Lydia hurried through the shallow water to reach the sign. It was set above a door with an arrow pointing up and the words “Med Center” stenciled across it. She was overjoyed, until she noticed the water spilling out from where the door met the frame. It was not quite a watertight door, but it was in the closed position and seemed to be holding back a lot of water. It leaked from all the way around the door, even from the upper jam, signifying that there was a lot of water behind it. This door had no window in it, but Lydia could picture several terrifying possibilities.
If what lay beyond the door was a short stairway up to the Medical Center, then there might not be too much water behind it. However, if the Med Center itself was flooded, then the door might be holding back a whole deck or more full of water. As a worst case scenario the ship might be sinking and the whole ocean was behind that door. Lydia knew the last possibility was extremely unlikely, considering the ship was not listing perceptibly and the pressure of the ocean would bust down that door easily, but the irrational fear remained. She stood there staring at the door indecisively for at least a minute.
When Lydia came to a decision she retraced her steps to the Emergency Bypass Route. Opening the door to the little passage released about an inch of water, proving that this part of Broadway had drained a bit more, even with more leaking down from the Med Center. That was good news. She left the bypass door open. Then she waded back to the door marked Med Center. The whole way back she played out in her mind what might, or might not, happen when she opened that door. If it was only holding back a small amount of water in a narrow crew stairwell, it would spread out harmlessly. On the other hand, if there was a lot of water on the deck above, it would sweep her back down the corridor. In that case she would swim for the open bypass route and try to close the door behind her. The water pressure should actually help her close it and automatically seal off the little chamber. Even if the bypass chamber filled completely, she should be able to hold her breath long enough to secure the first door and swim across to open the other door, spilling out on the far side of the watertight door. That was her fallback plan. She waited another full minute to gather her nerve.
****
Armando was helping Rachel navigate the landing on Deck 4 when three other people approached from the direction of the Martini Bar. Two of them appeared to have gone through a rough time, particularly the woman in the middle who was injured, while the third man was dressed like a cowboy and looked unscathed. Behind them Armando could see the path of destruction wrought by fire and water, including burned bodies piled against the bar. It was the worst carnage he had witnessed since this began and he now understood how some of the lifeboat muster stations had become death traps.
“Howdy,” the cowboy hailed them in a strangely casual manner. “You folks heading down to the hospital?”
“Yes,” Armando replied. “Where are you coming from? Are there others?”
“Yeah,” said the cowboy. “Plenty of folks are hiding out in the theater. That’s where I was until I decided to find out what’s going on. These two were in the casino with some other folks that need help too. Damn, but that place is trashed! What about you? Where were you? Those are some nasty burns you got there! You’re one of the crew aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m a bartender and I fought fires in the Sky Lounge. Now I’m helping this woman to the Med Center.”
“Hot damn! You’re the guy who told me I couldn’t smoke my cigar on the Resort Deck, ain’t you? Hell, son, it wasn’t me that started these fires! That’s for sure. I bet it was a hell of a ride up there on top of the ship. What did you see?”
Armando dismissed the man’s questions and comments, focusing instead on guiding Rachel down the next flight of stairs. The other three followed them. If the cowboy was offended by the snub, he didn’t show it. Instead he continued to ramble on.
“I never seen nothing like this, no sir! Good’ol Hank Donner from Houston, Texas has seen a lotta things and been places nobody in their right mind would ever want to go, but I never seen nothing like this. An honest to God asteroid fell from the dang sky, then all the flooding while the ship tossed like a bucking bronco, and a damned fireball fell into the theater and squashed a man like a bug! Horrible thing! That was when I decided I’d had enough. Got the hell out of there, and fast, but pretty soon I seen that wasn’t such a bad place to be. You know? Most of the folks in that theater are just fine, but out here it’s like a war zone. Last time I saw bodies burned this bad was when an oil rig blew up in Angola. Never wanted to see or smell that again. No sir!”
Rachel started to sob uncontrollably and Armando said, “Please, sir, can you stop talking like that? This woman can’t find her husband, but we know he was badly burned. We’re hoping to find him at the Med Center.”
“Oh, damn. Sorry ma’am,” Hank said quickly. “I’m sure you’ll find him. Hell, I’ll help look for him after we drop you injured folks off down there. What’s his name?”
“Brad,” she said between sobs. “Brad Brewer.”
“Damn fine name,” Hank said. “There’s a lot of burned fellas up there by the casino. I’ll see if he’s one of them as soon as we get you ladies to the doc.”
Hearing that, Rachel struggled against Armando and clearly wanted to go back up towards the casino in search of Brad. Armando tried to calm her down and keep her traveling down the stairs, throwing Hank a dirty look which seemed to shut him up for the time being. The group made it to the Deck 3 lobby and Armando pulled Rachel aside, motioning the others to take the lead. He hoped that putting Hank in front of them would reduce his propensity to direct thoughtless comments their way. Hank appeared oblivious as he guided the other couple past them and continued down the stairs.
“Don’t let him upset you, Rachel. I will go back up to look for your husband myself,” said Armando.
“No,” she replied shakily. “Your burns are even worse than mine. You need to see a doctor too.”
“Not until the passengers are cared for,”
Armando said. “My job is to assist the guests, starting with you. Let’s get you down there so I can go look for your husband. And he might still be waiting for you there.”
“Thank you,” Rachel said as they staggered down the next flight of stairs. They were almost to Deck 2 when Armando heard the voices of two men entering the stairs above them. He didn’t bother to look up, focusing all his energy on getting Rachel to the Med Center.
****
“I hope there are more people like Professor Farnsworth and his wife who rode this out safely in their staterooms,” Kevin said.
“Perhaps in some of the inside cabins and outside ones with portholes on the lower decks, like theirs,” Petty Officer Perkins replied as they walked down the Deck 3 corridor. “But you saw what happened to your balcony stateroom. I wouldn’t have wanted to be in there when the blast wave hit, or the flooding for that matter. Unfortunately, the majority of staterooms and all of the suites on the Sedulity have balconies with big sliding glass doors. They’re great for scenic cruises, but much more vulnerable to the elements than traditional cabins on older ships.”
“True,” Kevin agreed. “I’m glad Amanda was able to get Emily out of our stateroom in time. I just don’t understand why she didn’t wait for me in the lobby on Deck 10.”
“There are a hundred good reasons for them to have gone elsewhere,” Perkins tried to reassure him. “It must have been unnerving to ride out the waves alone there. They might have gone with other passengers, or followed the directions of the crew or announcements by the Captain. If they went for medical attention, we should find them below.” That was the plan, but it didn’t do much to reassure Kevin. He hoped they were not in the ship’s hospital, but couldn’t ignore the possibility that they were.
They reached the stairs next to the main lobby of the atrium and Kevin paused to survey the area. He remembered coming through this room when he first boarded the Sedulity and being impressed by the grandeur of the open space. It was still impressive, but in a different way. Most of the atrium levels looked relatively intact, but the open public decks were in a shambles. Water still fell in dwindling rivulets from the upper decks and splattered on the marble flooring of the Grand Lobby where piles of furniture had been tossed by previous flooding and upheavals. Smoke wafted into the atrium from numerous decks and rose to form a cloud that obscured what remained of the glass ceiling far above. The sound of falling water couldn’t drown out the insistent moans, shouts and cries of unseen survivors. Kevin took scant solace in not recognizing any of the voices. As the two men entered the stairway Kevin spotted several small groups of injured people preceding them down towards the Med Center.
“What were you and that professor talking about that made him so sad?” Perkins asked.
“So much pain and suffering,” Kevin commented. “I suppose it’s a miracle any of us are still alive, and I’ll be blessed if my family are among the survivors, but I’m afraid this is only the beginning of the real disaster.”
“What do you mean?” Perkins asked.
“This is just one ship tossed on an ocean that is about to smash every coastline with the same waves we just survived,” Kevin said. “Unfortunately, the cities and people on those shores won’t be able to ride over the waves like we did.”
“Oh crap!” Perkins blurted. “Does the Captain know about this?”
“Yes, we discussed it before I left the Bridge. That’s why he’s focused on getting communications restored now. I don’t know how much good it will do, but I hope a warning will give some people enough time to reach high ground, or go far inland. I guess what I’m saying is that as bad this seems for us right now, it’s going to be much worse for millions of others.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Perkins asked without a hint of humor. “I wish you hadn’t told me, but now I understand why you guys sounded so depressed. Do you really think those waves will be that big when they reach land? Won’t they get smaller the farther they travel?”
“Oh yes, they will decrease in size as they spread out in an expanding circle,” Kevin replied. “Then they will grow even bigger when they reach shallow water. They’ll slow down and pile up on top of each other. The whole event is really a massive transfer of energy through the medium of seawater. Tsunamis spread out and decrease in height as they move through the middle of the ocean, but then they get bigger when they hit a continental shelf. Much bigger. If the conditions are right, or maybe I should say wrong, those waves could build to thousands of feet high and sweep many miles inland. You remember what earthquake generated Tsunamis have done to Japan? Or the seafloor displacement off Indonesia? Those were child’s play compared to this.”
“Holy hell,” Perkins muttered. “You make it sound like the end of the world!” Kevin paused and met Perkins’ horrified gaze. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. After a moment of silent communion the two men continued down the stairs in search of Kevin’s family.
****
Amanda cuddled with Emily on the sofa in the Captain’s Dayroom. This was a combination office, study and bonus room positioned between the Bridge and the Captain’s suite on the port side of the ship. She hadn’t realized that the Captain would have some of the best accommodations aboard, but it made sense. The neighboring guest suites were all First Class and it was only to be expected that the Captain deserved equal or better. It also gave him direct access to the Bridge whenever he was needed. The Captain’s suite had remained intact, due in large part to the Bridge Wing that protruded twenty feet outboard of the superstructure. It had broken the force of the flaming blast wave and the subsequent mountains of water, shielding the Captain’s suite from direct exposure. Amanda had no idea how much worse the other balcony staterooms and suites had faired, but her current surroundings helped to reassure her that the ship had survived the challenges posed by what Kevin had called an asteroid strike.
She was startled when a crewman rushed into the room and went directly to the big flat screen television in front of the sofa where Amanda and Emily were ensconced. The crewman fiddled with some controls and the TV sprang to life. It displayed the familiar scene of a new studio that she recognized as belonging to GNN in Los Angeles. The typical Breaking News icon flashed at the bottom of the screen and Amanda fully expected the story to involve the incredible events that the Sedulity had just experienced. The crewman pushed a button to turn up the volume.
“A Las Vegas woman is lucky to be alive today after her estranged husband tried to kill her with a chainsaw. Carol Jones, mother of three, lost both hands and suffered serious cuts to her face and torso before a passerby with a concealed carry permit was able to shoot Mr. Jones in the couple’s front yard. Mrs. Jones is in serious but stable condition at a local hospital. Mr. Jones was reported dead at the scene. The shooter, Martha Jackson, is a thirty year old preschool teacher. She was questioned by police and released without charges. Gun rights activists are already praising her as a champion of their cause.
“In other news, initial reports of a massive light show in the evening sky over the Middle East and South Asia are now mixed with eye witness accounts of minor damage from a massive sonic boom. Experts suggest that a large meteor may have exploded in the upper atmosphere, but there is no indication as yet of any significant impact on the ground. One scientist at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena calculates that part of the object may have fallen into the Pacific Ocean, far from any inhabited areas, and assures us there is no cause for alarm. We at GNN will continue to follow this breaking news and update you as necessary throughout the day.
“Coming up, we’ll take a look at some of the season’s blockbusters and ask our panel of experts why disaster movies seem to be topping the charts…”
The crewman used a remote control to change channels, but the only other English language stations coming in were HBO and the Discovery Channel. He switched back to GNN, which was on commercial break, and turned to speak to Amanda.
“So
rry to disturb you, Mrs. Summers, but now that some of the satellite receivers are working again the Captain wants us to monitor the news for any mention of what we encountered. If you don’t mind keeping an eye on the news, I’ll be back to check shortly.”
“Certainly,” Amanda agreed. “It doesn’t sound like they have the full story yet, does it?”
“No, ma’am,” the sailor agreed. “The Captain is on the satellite phone right now trying to correct that. He says it’s important that people along the Pacific Rim are warned of the waves heading their way.”
“You mean like Tsunamis?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, but bigger than anything we’ve seen before. At least that’s what your husband told the Captain. Now we’re trying to raise the alarm. So please keep watching the news and we’ll see how long it takes for the word to get out.”
Amanda nodded as the crewman returned to the Bridge. She tried to get Emily to take a nap by having her lay down on the couch with her head in Amanda’s lap, but the girl was far too stressed out to sleep. She had been through a traumatic event and Amanda wasn’t keen on the idea of her watching television news about chainsaw attacks, disaster movies and the asteroid strike. She didn’t let Emily watch the news much at home either, feeling it was too full of sensationalized violence and hostility between those of differing politics and beliefs. However, she understood the importance of monitoring the news right now and resigned herself to putting Emily through it too.
“Momma? What’s a too-nommy?” her daughter asked innocently.
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