by Dayle, Harry
“You think it survived, Coote?” Jake perked up.
“Why not? The underground part of Faslane did. If we wanted to build a sizeable onshore community anywhere, Yulin could be an excellent place to start. Better climate than Faslane too. If there are other subs out there, they could have had the same idea. So if nothing else, I think we could find more survivors in the area, even if the base itself is no longer accessible.”
“I’ll ask Ralf to make it a priority,” Ewan said, scribbling notes as he spoke.
Jake raised a hand again. “Ewan? You said most of the men were wearing North Korean uniforms. Not all?”
The submariner looked up from his notebook. He looked at Jake, then at Ove, then back at Jake. “Perhaps we can talk about that later?”
“Ana,” Ove croaked. He had turned white. His hands were shaking. “You found Ana, didn’t you?”
Ewan grimaced, visibly uncomfortable. “I really think we should discuss this in private—”
“Tell me!”
He took a deep breath. “There were two more people on board. Not Koreans. One was a woman. We’ve recovered the bo— we’ve brought her aboard and she’s with Janice now. I believe it is your wife, yes.” Ewan looked at his feet. “I’m so sorry,” he added.
Ove nodded, the tears dripping onto his lap. “I knew. I pretended it wasn’t true, but really, I knew. Can I see her?”
“Of course. Janice is…preparing her.” He looked to Jake. “The other man…”
“Stieg?”
“Yes.”
“They took him to get information about us. To evaluate the threat.”
“I think so.”
“Did they…hurt him?”
Ewan didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. Everyone already knew the answer.
“Um, I think that’s everything on the submarine,” he said eventually. “I’ll hand over to Martin now, who will bring us up to date on the state of the fleet.”
Ewan moved quickly to the side, leaving the floor for the chief engineer. Martin thanked him, and began his briefing with some dull information about checks and repairs being carried out to the hull and the generators, necessary due to the proximity of the explosion. Aside from that, everything was looking great, he assured them. The Ambush was connected up again, and the Lance was also being attached in such a way as to allow free passage between the ships. Everyone nodded and murmured in the right places, but the mood had been irreparably dampened by the news of the two victims.
• • •
When the briefing was over and everyone was filing out of medical, Jake grabbed Trent, the security officer.
“Still no news? On Max and Grace?”
“’Fraid not. I’m thinking of organising a door-to-door, top-to-bottom. Find out who saw them last, and where.”
“You won’t get far with that. Nobody ever sees anything when people go missing on cruise ships, believe me.”
“There is one other possible lead. I’m on my way to investigate now.”
“I’ll join you, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course not.”
Trent led the way to the lift, and pressed the button for deck twelve. There was a moment’s awkward silence as they rose through the heart of the ship.
Jake spoke first. “Where are we off to?”
“Cabin 1224. Elizabeth Lethbridge. She runs the—”
“The Colaeus. Yes, I’ve met her.” Jake’s mouth curled downwards as he spoke. He looked sideways at Trent, and both allowed themselves a smile. “Not a fan then, Trent?”
“I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with her.”
“Haven’t we all. What’s she’s doing all the way up here?”
“I think she nagged Silvia into finding her a nice cabin overlooking the plaza. Amazing what you can get away with when you control the food.”
They arrived at the stateroom and Trent knocked politely. Lethbridge answered wearing a pink dress, something which took both men by surprise, unaccustomed as they were to seeing her in anything but chef’s whites.
“Yes?”
“Miss Lethbridge?”
“Yes?”
“Security. You called us. About a hole?”
“That was ages ago. I suppose you had better come in.”
The cabin’s longest wall was covered from top to bottom with pictures from around the world. Jake recognised them as destinations they had cruised to in the Spirit of Arcadia. Venice, Freeport, Hamilton, Nova Scotia, Bora Bora, the North Pole, Maui, Amsterdam, Gibraltar, San Diego, Constanta, Christchurch…they went on and on, in no order that he could discern. It was only when he stepped back and squinted that he realised they had been arranged in such a way that their colours made a partial map of the word in a mosaic effect.
“You like my wall, Captain?”
“It’s… I’ve never seen anything like it. You took all of them?”
“Of course. I don’t suppose it will ever be finished now. You’re not here to talk about that though. You’re here to look at the hole.”
“Ah, yes, the infamous hole. You think it was made by a bullet?” Trent asked.
“Here, judge for yourself.” Lethbridge moved aside an oddly placed coffee table. “I covered it up. It made a terrible mess of the carpet.”
The two men knelt down and examined the small round impression. Jake didn’t think it noticed that badly, but there was no doubting it was a hole.
“When did this happen?”
“A day or two ago I think. While I was working. I came back and found it like that. I left a message with security, but nobody came.”
“Thank you, Miss Lethbridge. I’m sorry nobody came sooner. Captain?” Trent headed back to the door.
“Wait! Is anyone going to fix my carpet?”
Jake assured her that he would notify housekeeping, then left quickly.
They took the stairs to deck eleven. It was quicker than waiting for the lift. Trent didn’t knock on the door to cabin 1124. Instead, he pulled out his master key card, clicked open the lock, and went right in.
“Shouldn’t we…I don’t know, get backup or something?” Jake asked, but Trent was already inside.
The suite looked much like any other. Two white armchairs were arranged opposite the door. A coffee table and a large sideboard made up most of the rest of the furniture. The room was immaculate. Jake couldn’t imagine anyone was living in it.
Trent checked the bathroom. It was as empty and as beautifully clean as the salon.
They found them in the bedroom. On the floor, on the far side of the bed, the two security officers were tightly bound and gagged. Grace was a mess: unconscious, gaunt, her hair matted. Max just looked angry. Very angry.
Epilogue
JAKE TAPPED THE microphone a couple of times with the tip of his finger. The loudspeakers around the theatre boomed, hushing the hundreds of conversations that had started as whispers during the short delay between speeches.
He cleared his throat, and began. “Ladies, gentlemen, girls and boys. Members of our community. I stand before you filled with a heady mix of emotions. Only yesterday, we gathered to bury four people, and although two of them sadly wished harm upon us, every loss is a loss felt deeply by the community. We are few in number, perhaps the last remaining survivors. Since the day of the asteroid we have faced challenge after challenge. Some have fallen along the way. Yet two months on from that fateful day, we are still here. Against all the odds, we have survived this far. Far enough to be able to celebrate a truly joyous occasion, as we mark the arrival of a new life into our tiny world.
“I’m absolutely delighted that so many wanted to be here and celebrate with Dan and Vicky. Lucya tells me that this is the biggest naming ceremony held in the history of the world. Whether that is true or not I suppose we’ll never know, but that’s not what is important. What is important is the fact there are more than two thousand of us in this room. It tells us two things. That we are all a family, and that we care. Well, maybe three thi
ngs. Any excuse for extra rations and a glass of diluted orange juice is welcome!”
A light ripple of polite laughter spread throughout the auditorium. Jake paused before continuing. He wished he had prepared something rather than winging the address. “Like all families, we have our ups and our downs. Sometimes, we lose sight of how our actions affect everyone else. Sometimes we hurt those closest to us the most. Sometimes we think that because we are so close, we can take liberties; that we can help ourselves to more than our fair share. But when a new life comes into the family, a delicate, fragile life, we are reminded that individually, we are all weak and helpless. Just like Vicky and Dan’s wonderful newborn, we are all dependent on the support of everyone in our family, if we are to survive this harsh world.
“The events of the last week have shown us the best and the worst of ourselves. Some of us have chosen to steal. Have no doubt, those people will be found, and they will be punished. Some of us have quite literally risked their lives to save others, for which I know I will be eternally grateful.” He looked down at Erica, seated in the front row. She beamed back at him. There was a purr of agreement from the crowd.
“Today,” he continued, “I want us to forget about the worst. Today, I want us to celebrate the best, because that is how we will survive the future. By always striving to be the best we can be.
“Now, I must admit, when Vicky and Dan told me the name they had chosen for their son, I was at first apprehensive. I understood, of course, the connotations of the name, but for me it’s a name that brings about unhappy memories. They were absolutely right in their choice though. What better way to erase those negative associations than by making the name all about the future? Because their son is our future. He’s the first of a new generation. A generation who may only ever know life at sea. And he is a symbol to us all that life goes on; that we can survive. That we will survive. So without further ado, I would like you all to raise your glasses in a double toast. To our new friends from the Lance, and most of all, to our newest son. To Adam.”
The deafening cheer filled the theatre. “To Adam!”
Noah’s Ark Will Return
Find out what happens to Jake and the others in the fleet. The fourth novel in the Noah’s Ark series will be published winter 2014/15. For priority notification of its release, register for free at www.HarryDayle.com
*****
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Also By The Author
Noah’s Ark Series:
Survivors
Contagion
Dreamshifters Series:
Parallel One
Parallel Ties
Parallel Lies
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Available from all good bookshops. Find out more about Harry’s books, and receive priority notification of new releases:
www.HarryDayle.com
[email protected]
First Published 2014 by Shelfless
First Edition [E1.01]
Shelfless Ltd
1 Church Hill
Leigh-on-Sea SS9 2DE
www.shelfless.co.uk
Copyright © Harry Dayle, 2014
The right of Harry Dayle to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
