“Aye-aye, Sir,” Mr. Crawford said, making a note on the casualty report.
“What’s the updated damage report? Especially for guest accommodations? I can’t keep all the passengers cooped up in the theater forever.”
Mr. Crawford picked up a much larger stack of paper and read a summary. “Eighty-five percent of the balcony staterooms and suites have been severely damaged by fire and flooding. Most of the surviving 15% of Veranda Suites and staterooms are clustered over the fantail at the stern, as well as several forward on this deck, such as yours and mine, which were sheltered by the bridge wings. The Chief Steward reports that only a few of the damaged balcony staterooms can be made livable. The rest are gutted.
“The good news in that 90% of the inside staterooms received little or no damage. The same is true of outside cabins with portholes on the lower decks. Only of a handful of the portholes were broken and even in those cabins the damage was far less severe than in the balcony rooms. Unfortunately, as you know, Sir, more than seventy-five percent of the Sedulity’s total passenger accommodations have balconies. So the net result is that we’ve lost about two thirds of the guest rooms and berths.”
“And we’ve only lost a third of the passengers,” the captain said, without meaning to sound callous. “We might need to double up the occupancy in the remaining staterooms, or even set up a hot-bunk system.” Hot-bunking was a common practice on naval vessels, especially old submarines. It meant that when one crewman woke up to go on duty, another member of the crew would get into the same bed, often while it was still warm from the previous occupant. Such a system would not go over well with passengers on a cruise ship, but the captain needed to consider all options. “How about damage to crew’s quarters?”
“More than half of the crew cabins were at least partially flooded, but didn’t suffer any fire or blast damage down there. We should be able to make most of them habitable, if we can dry out the bedding, or cover the mattresses with plastic. Dr. Segal has also taken over several dozen of the crew cabins near the medical center to accommodate patients and says he needs more space.”
“Alright, have the Quartermaster consolidate berths for surviving crew into cabins with minor flooding damage. Give the doctor as many of the undamaged ones as he needs. Whatever crew cabins are left over can be assigned to passengers. In the meantime we can disable the key cards for all staterooms deemed uninhabitable.”
“Yes, Sir,” Crawford remarked, scribbling notes on the damage report. “Anything else, Sir?”
“A million things,” Captain Krystos replied with a sad smile. “What’s the status of the ship’s kitchen and main dining room?”
“Engineering has restored power to the main galley. The Head Chef says it’s still a disaster area with all the broken dishes, and such, but his team is cleaning up and preparing some basic meals to be served later this morning. A dozen of the hospitality staff have been busy getting the tables and chairs in order in the dining room. They reported some water damage, but the flooding wasn’t too severe there. Being at the stern, only a few side windows were broken in the main dining room. They’ve been covered with plastic and canvas to keep out the rain.”
“Excellent,” the captain nodded. “I’ll be going down to address the passengers and crew in the theater soon. I’d like to be able offer them the option of going to the restaurant, since most of them no longer have staterooms. The least we can do is feed them and let them stretch their legs. Get me a report on which public areas have the least damage and can be opened to the passengers today. I don’t want them going stir crazy, or be forced to watch the terrible news on TV in that theater.” The first officer nodded and continued taking notes while the captain turned to stare out across the dark sea, towards the unseen source of this disaster.
*****
Down in the theater Lieutenant Reiner was nearing the end of his patience, as were many of the passengers sequestered with him. The GNN broadcast of panicked crowds in California, running for their lives, did nothing to calm the mood of passengers aboard the Sedulity, especially since many of them were from that area. Reiner had tried to change the channel briefly, but that sparked a minor riot among those who demanded to be able to watch the terrible news unfold. Reiner relented, but felt sorry for those who hid their faces in their hands and would obviously prefer not to be exposed to such horrific scenes of disaster.
The constant demands, complaints, and pleading from angry and confused passengers were becoming unbearable. He was praying that Captain Krystos would arrive soon to provide more answers and better leadership than the Lieutenant was capable of. Reiner was missing Staff Captain Stevens more each second too. He would have known how to deal with this crisis, but the staff captain had been burned to a crisp and washed overboard. Reiner had seen it happen. So here he was, in charge of keeping more than a thousand distraught passengers seated in the theater for more than ten hours now while the world was destroyed in full HD right before their eyes.
Tensions were rising and Reiner was relieved to see Mr. Cohn, the security chief enter the theater with four of his security guards who spread out to join other members of the crew guarding each main exit. Reiner was a bit surprised to note that they carried pistols openly on their belts, but realized that they would project authority far better than the lieutenant’s soiled uniform.
“Mr. Cohn,” he said as the man reached the main stage. “It’s good to see you. These people are close to panic here. I’m not sure how much longer I could have kept control. Will you relieve me?”
Cohn shook his head sadly and said, “I can’t do that, son. You’re still the ranking ship’s officer here, but my men and I will do our best to help you keep a lid on things. The captain will be down himself soon. I’m here to get these folks in the mood to receive him properly. Can’t have them badgering him, or worse, when he arrives. Would you care to introduce me to the passengers?”
“Yes, Sir,” Reiner replied gratefully. And rank be damned. In Reiner’s opinion, the chief of security should outrank a lowly ship’s officer in a situation like this, if not strictly in maritime law. He stepped up on stage and signaled for the sound of the television to be muted, but left the video feed running. Then he addressed the restless crowd.
“May I have your attention please? This is Mr. Cohn, our chief of security. He’d like to give you some information about conditions on the rest of the ship and explain why we have asked you to remain in this theater all night.” There were more than a few grumbles and only a smattering of claps as the lieutenant passed the microphone to Mr. Cohn.
“I’d like to say good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Cohn said in a strong voice. “But I’m afraid it’s not one. In fact, it’s so dark outside that we can’t be sure the sun has even risen today. The asteroid strike created clouds so dense that they are blocking the sunlight.” He paused to let that sink into the speechless faces before him. “Now, before you get more upset, let me assure you that this ship is safe. We are in contact with other ships and authorities ashore too. They know where we are. You are in no danger here, in this theater. In fact, it’s one of the safest places to be across the whole Pacific Ocean, as you can see from the news on TV.
“Nevertheless, there are still dangers outside this room that you need to be aware of before we can let you roam around the ship. We’ve been recording close to six inches of rain per hour. It’s still hot enough to hurt exposed skin. Worse than that, I myself have checked samples and confirmed measurable levels of radioactivity in particles carried by the rain.” A collective gasp swept through the theater.
“You are in no danger here, or inside any of the lower decks on the ship. However, we have placed the outside decks, and the upper decks, including all staterooms and suites with balconies, off-limits until further notice.” The crowd erupted in angry protest and Mr. Cohen waited for them to calm down while giving placating gestures. It was his idea, born from years of working as an Israeli intelligence officer, to use the f
ear of radiation as an excuse to keep these people from wanting to go back to their gutted staterooms. He felt that the passengers would be more cooperative if they thought they were being protected, instead of being told that their staterooms and all their belongings had been destroyed. The captain had reluctantly concurred and agreed to let him make this speech. When the outburst faded somewhat he went on.
“I repeat, you are in no danger down here, and we want to keep it that way. But I’m afraid the same cannot be said for many of your fellow passengers, as well as members of the crew. There has been significant loss of life aboard the Sedulity. The crew, along with some volunteers among the passengers, have been working all night to save as many lives as possible and to keep the ship safe.
“I want to stress the lengths to which the captain and crew have gone to save this ship and your own lives along with it. They fought fires on nearly every deck, many of the crew suffered serious burns in the process. Then they faced major flooding, which you are all aware of. The engineering crew was trapped in lower compartments surrounded by water for hours, but they kept the engines and pumps going, thereby saving the ship and everyone aboard her. Since then the crew has been assisting the injured, restoring power, cleaning up debris and broken glass to make the public areas safe, even getting the kitchen operational to feed all of you soon. These are things that go above and beyond their job descriptions, so I want all of you to keep this in mind as we work together to survive this disaster.” Cohen paused again and swept his gaze around the room, pleased to see most of the faces reflecting contrition or gratitude.
“Captain Krystos will be joining us here soon to explain more of what has happened and what you can expect in the coming hours and days. Before he arrives, I want to impress upon you how lucky we all are that he was in command of this ship last night. You’ve all seen the reports and images of mass destruction sweeping across the globe today. All of it was triggered by the asteroid that struck less than a hundred nautical miles from this ship. The Sedulity is the only vessel within hundreds of miles known to have survived the impact. That wasn’t merely good luck. It was the result of masterful seamanship and command decisions made by Captain Krystos immediately after the impact and in the hours since. We all owe him our lives and I hope you will display your gratitude when he joins us here. I can tell you that he feels a heavy personal burden for every life that he couldn’t save, so I hope your appreciation will lend him the strength he needs to lead us out of this crisis and beyond. Thank you for your attention, ladies and gentlemen, and please remain seated until the captain joins us shortly.”
The passengers erupted in what sounded like heartfelt applause and Mr. Cohen bowed slightly before leaving the stage. He was confident that his performance had set the mood necessary for Captain Krystos to take control of the situation. In fact, Cohen suspected that most of these people would soon be kissing the captain’s feet. Of course, there were bound to be troublemakers and malcontents who wouldn’t accept or understand the new realities, which was why Mr. Cohen had brought his security team along. There were four empty bunks in the ship’s brig, commonly referred to as the “drunk tank” due to the usual clientele. He could throw in a few more mattresses, or take over another room, if necessary. It would just mean that many fewer passengers in need of more desirable berths.
*****
Hank Donner chuckled when the man with the funny accent began to describe their plight. Having been out and about on his own, going as far as helping the Filipino bartender take injured passengers down to the sick bay, Hank had a good idea of the death and destruction littering the rest of the ship. He lost his grim smile at the mention of radiation and briefly worried if the barkeep had been contaminated. Hank appreciated the lengths to which that man had gone to help others, even shaming Hank into helping him do it. So he could relate to the stories of heroic sacrifice by crewmen to save the ship and passengers. He had witnessed a prime example of that. But the description of the captain as their fearless savior brought a smile back to his face. Nevertheless, he had to admit that he was still alive, and witnessing the fate of millions on live television who were not so fortunate. If the captain had saved the ship, then Hank figured he owed him more than a few drinks.
The only part of the pep talk that got Hank rankled was the announcement that his balcony suite on one of the upper decks was off-limits indefinitely due to possible radioactive contamination. What else could go wrong on this cruise? Where the hell was he supposed to sleep? He wanted a shower, a change of clothes, and a long nap in the bed he had paid for. Well, he could wait until after seeing the rest of the news coverage of the tsunami play out on TV. This was a once in a lifetime experience that he didn’t want to miss, no matter how horrific the images. He was sure that the most gruesome scenes would be edited out of the reruns, and who would give up a ringside seat to the end of the world? After this show was over, however, he wanted nothing more than to go back up to his suite and relax in peace.
“Excuse me, sir. Is it really that bad?” asked a sexy female voice from behind Hank. “You were out there. Right? What did you see?”
Hank turned his head and saw an attractive woman in her late thirties or early forties with long blonde hair and blue eyes, leaning her ample breasts over the aisle railing behind his seat. She was clearly talking to him.
“Yes, miss. I’m sad to say it’s pretty bad out there,” Hank replied honestly. “I don’t know anything about radiation, but I wouldn’t have seen that, would I? The rest of what he said doesn’t come close to describing what happened out there. At least what I saw of it. Lots of dead bodies. Lots of people burned and banged up. Fire damage. Water damage. Broken stuff scattered everywhere. The ship’s a real mess. I don’t envy the crew the job of cleaning it up.”
“Oh dear,” the woman said. “I was afraid you were going to say that. This is terrible. Can they really keep us out of our staterooms? We have a concierge class balcony room. I just want to go back up there and crawl into bed. This all seems like a bad dream.”
“I know what you mean, miss,” Hank said, hoping that she really was a miss and not a missus. “I have a suite with a big balcony overlooking the back of the ship. First class. I paid a lot for that room and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to use it. Name’s Hank Donner from Houston, Texas, by the way. Pleased to meet you.”
“Oh, hello. Sorry. I’m Romy Price,” she replied and extended a slim hand for Hank to shake. “We’re from Santa Barbara. My boyfriend, Fred, is freaking out a bit. The ship’s officer wouldn’t answer any questions, or let us leave the theater. I saw you leave and then come back, so I decided to ask you what’s going on out there. This whole thing is creeping me out. Can you believe what they’ve been showing on the news? It’s crazy.”
Her introduction spoke volumes to Hank. Romy had a boyfriend, but wasn’t married. Said boyfriend was freaking out and didn’t have the balls to get both of them out of the theater before the goon squad arrived, or even get answers out of the sailor-boy in charge. They had a nice stateroom, but not a suite. Of course they were all in the same predicament at the moment, until they could get back to their rooms. And who knew if their rooms were even intact?
Hank’s thoughts froze for a moment as a frightening idea took shape. Having seen the destruction outside the theater, Hank suddenly wondered what would happen to those comfy balcony rooms if the same forces of nature were applied to them as had struck the Martini Bar and other muster stations. The answer he came up with was not pretty, but he would keep those thoughts to himself for now.
“Nice to meet you, Romy,” Hank said, then blinked as she looked at him strangely. “I mean, I wish we could have met under better circumstances. And you’re right. It’s crazy. I think that man was right about us being lucky to be alive. We should probably keep that in mind during whatever hardships we face on the rest of this cruise. But don’t hesitate to let me know if I can be of any assistance to you, Miss Romy.”
“That’s sw
eet of you, thanks,” Romy said. “I guess we’re all in the same boat here.”
Hank nodded and smiled at the pun. Same boat indeed. This might get even more interesting.
Chapter 4
While monstrous waves swept up the coast of Baja, towards crippled Southern California, their sisters were wreaking havoc and destruction on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. Indonesia and the Philippines had already been wiped out by a triple combo of punches from earthquakes, volcanoes, and mega-tsunamis. Hundreds of millions of lives had been lost in the first hours of doomsday. Many more were on the chopping block. There wasn’t much news coverage of the destruction in Vietnam. Land soaked with the blood of tens of thousands of American lives was cleansed when the waves hit the southern coast and swept a hundred miles up the Me Cong Delta. Haiphong Harbor, further north, went with a whimper, not a bang. No war could ever compare to the destruction unleashed by the Rogue.
Spillover from the impact generated waves, as well as traditional tsunamis from countless volcanic eruptions and earthquakes, were propagating throughout the Indian Ocean too. The coastlands of Thailand, India, and Sri Lanka were doomed. Much of low-lying Bangladesh would be wiped out. When the waves reached the Persian Gulf they would build higher and higher, wave after wave, sweeping away the oil drilling platforms, the palaces and manmade islands of the petro-elite, washing deep into the deserts, bringing yet another turning point in the painful history of the Middle East.
The mega-tsunamis held no prejudice for race, creed, or religion. Geography alone decided the fate of close to a billion people that day, many more if you counted the ones spared. Living on one side of a peninsula or the other, building a home near the beach or up in the hills, these turned out to be critical decisions that made the difference between life and death for multitudes who never thought that such choices really mattered. Such was the ignorant bliss in which people lived before the Rogue arrived.
Sedulity 2: Aftershock (Sedulity Saga) Page 6
