Romano went running to talk to the server and came back with a remote control that he used to turn on the TV and go through the channels. He had to change channels several times before he found some news. Almost all of the channels were showing movies.
Leora paid attention and noticed the still camera as the journalist narrated the events of the last few hours. It was just past midday.
“....to hospitals. Stay away from all public areas. If you are not sick, stay away from everyone. The virus spreads rapidly. Apparently, it lives in the air or on any surface for hours. You can be infected in any way, whether by saliva, blood, contact, mucus, even breathing near a sick person. The only sure way to not be infected is to be in an area free of sick people and where the virus has not been sprayed. We reiterate, we have reports of millions of deaths all over the world. Apparently, it is a bioterrorist attack, but no one has any idea who has launched it or why. The virus has been distributed in multiple forms in all important city centers, and almost the entire population of the world has been infected...” the reporter stopped and sneezed violently. He hastened to wipe a disgusting ball of snot from his nose and continued, “My God, from what we know, until now the virus seems to be totally lethal, we still do not know of anyone who has been cured...”
“Is this for real? Is this from Buenos Aires?”
“Captain, I suggest you communicate with the nearest port,” Romano urged, looking panicked.
Leora had a slight attack of worry that she tried to quickly control. She looked around and saw several passengers talking and gesturing, some pretty heated. This was her thirtieth cruise and she didn’t want it to be the last because everything went to hell under her command. There was already enough pressure to exceed everyone’s expectations—the officers, the crew, and above all, of the company and the shareholders. Many of them didn’t want to hear of a female captain, but her expertise finally prevailed. The MSC Grandiosa, not a very new cruise ship but with very good service, went under her control five years ago. And so far, she hadn’t disappointed them.
“Romano, is everybody on board? No one reported in sick?”
“Captain, what’s going on?” asked a passenger who had come up to her.
“Wait a moment, please, sir. That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Romano explained, and then said to Leora, “No, Captain, nothing out of the normal. One dead from a heart attack, some seasickness, a couple of intoxications, the odd thing or two, but everything within normal and expected.”
“A death? Did he say someone died?” screamed one of the passengers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, on every cruise there are usually two or three deaths. It isn’t something we announce over the loudspeakers, but it’s normal. There are a lot of people and many days on board.”
Leora saw that several anxious people had come over, so she announced:
“As soon as we know something, I promise I’ll communicate it to everybody.”
She kept her face inexpressive in front of people, as usual, and she headed towards the bridge, followed by Romano.
They entered the bridge, where the first officer, the communications officers, and a navigating officer saluted immediately. Leora stopped for a few seconds, as she always did, to admire the extent of the ship from the only place where you could see its magnificent three hundred sixty yards of length and forty-one of width, which was two and a half acres per deck, and there were eighteen of those. A small city that at this moment carried two thousand nine hundred fifteen passengers, with one thousand three hundred crew members to take care of them and the ship—more than four thousand people total, and it wasn’t even full.
She ordered the officer to communicate with the Port of Buenos Aires. The man handled the controls for a minute and indicated that it was ready. Leora went to the console and took the microphone. She checked the indicators and activated the communicator.
“L2G, this is Captain Leora Shapira aboard the cruise ship MSC Grandiosa under an Italian flag.”
“This is the interim captain Alfred Martínez in the Buenos Aires port. Did you say cruise ship?”
“We are seeing the news...”
“Captain, we have reduced personnel, I hope you’re not thinking of docking here.”
Leora stood with her mouth open. When she composed herself, she said:
“Captain Martínez, repeat your statement, please.”
She heard a sneeze through the communicator.
“I said everyone is sick around here. We’re lacking fifty percent of the workforce and I’m afraid there are no staff or assistants to...” he interrupted himself with another sneeze, “...help with the berthing, let alone replenish the ship. And the situation seems to be getting worse.”
“Captain, we’re supposed to dock in Buenos Aires tomorrow afternoon. What do you suggest we do?”
“I suggest you go back to where you came from or keep looking for a port that can be ready, but I seriously doubt you’ll find one.” She heard a long series of coughing.
“I hope you understand your refusal will have repercussions.”
“Go to hell. Do you not realize what is happening? I don’t think there will be anyone left to judge.”
Leora felt a surge of fury but tried to calm down to think about the situation. Buenos Aires was under some kind of epidemic. If it was as bad as it seemed, it would be dangerous to disembark or even replenish the ship. Martínez was probably right.
“Thank you, Captain, we’ll keep your advice in mind.”
“Excuse me, but we’re not in any condition to handle such a landing. No one is sick on your ship?”
“Not yet.”
“Keep far from the coast. Maybe you can keep it that way.”
“Thank you, I’ll take it into account,” Leora said, and signed off.
She ordered the communications officer to contact the closest ports. Time went by and the officer wasn’t able to establish contact, getting more and more nervous, until he was heard exchanging some words with someone. Finally, he got up and approached the other officers.
“Captain, I tried to establish contact with all the nearby ports, even those that aren’t big enough for a cruise ship this size. I didn’t get a response from Montevideo, Río de Janeiro, or any of the intermediate ports that we could go into in case of emergency. On the other hand, Mar del Plata answered me. They said the same as Buenos Aires,” related the officer with an edge of hysteria.
“Straighten your tie, Máximo.”
The captain’s order shook him a little, but maritime discipline prevailed. The communications officer straightened and adjusted his tie and uniform, and then spoke in a more controlled tone.
“Pardon me, Captain.”
Leora knew that that kind of trick wouldn’t work for long, but she had to keep them in control of themselves as long as possible, before using more explicit resources. If the crew panicked, they would be lost.
The captain treated everyone formally. By using Máximo’s name, the second officer could tell how nervous she was, although she hid it perfectly.
“Romano...I don’t like this at all. Lower the engines to the minimum speed. Continue on course to Buenos Aires. We won’t enter the port but we’ll evaluate the situation from the river. If what we’re hearing is true, then we’ll try Mar del Plata or Bahía Blanca, or we’ll head on south. Martino,” she ordered her first officer, "put all the security and medical personnel on alert. All of them. I want double guards on every deck. The perimeter guards should be armed. They have half an hour. And call all of the other officers and all of the directors, the cruise chief, the hotel manager, the chief engineer, the kitchen manager and all the supervisors. It’s thirteen-twenty. I’ll see you in the big amphitheater in forty minutes at fourteen hundred hours, for a ten minute meeting. Everyone must be there. Move it.”
“Yes, Captain.” First Officer Giuseppe Martino looked like he wanted to say something but bit his lip and ran out of the bridge.
“Máximo,
continue trying to communicate. Try to get in touch with everybody. Other ports, other ships, the military, amateur radio operators, whoever answers, take notes and find out what is happening.”
“Yes, Captain.”
REFUGE
Buenos Aires, November 24, 2027. 11:15 a.m.
Sofía was watching the news. The hospitals were overwhelmed, as well as emergency services, 911 barely responded. There was minimum street traffic. There was looting of shops and dead people in the streets. She thought about seeing if Marisol was okay, if her mother had come back or they needed something. She’d been calling her house all morning, but she didn’t answer. Finally, she decided to go see her in person.
“Dad, I want to go see how my friend is,” she advised her father.
“Are you crazy? In the middle of this pandemic?”
“Dad, if Mom was out there and you couldn’t get in touch with her, would you stay home for safety?”
“Don’t compare going to look for Mom, who was my love, with going to see your friend...” he broke off when he saw his daughter’s face.
“Dad, I have to go see her. I’m going,” she announced, grabbing the keys.
“Wait, you’re not going anywhere alone,” he told her, lifting a hand when Sofía started to argue, but to her relief he said, “I’ll go with you.”
They almost ran the few blocks to Marisol’s house. When they arrived, they waited a long time before someone answered the bell, which they rang again and again. When Juan Carlos was just about to say there was no one there, they heard someone ring them in. Daniela, Marisol’s mother, peeped out slowly. They could tell she had been crying. Coughing, she told them that Marisol had died. Sofía was dumbfounded, and suddenly pushed into the house.
“Sofía!” Juan Carlos shouted, worried about the woman, but she stayed still, crying without reacting to them. He decided to follow his daughter into the house.
He went in the direction where he heard sobs and a kind of litany, and came to Marisol’s room, where Sofía was next to her body, which lay on the bed, pale and emaciated. There was an unpleasant smell.
“It can’t be, it can’t be, it can’t be, it can’t be, it...” repeated Sofía over and over between sobs, rocking back and forth. Her father rested his hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Juan Carlos looked for Daniela and found her seated in the entry near the door. He wanted to ask her why she hadn’t disposed of her daughter’s body in some way, but when he started to speak to her, he could see she was staring blankly into space. He shuddered and went closer. He could confirm she was no longer breathing. He closed her eyes respectfully, so Sofía would not see that, and called 911. He got a busy signal.
They were all dying.
Juan Carlos went back to Sofía, who continued with her litany.
He opened his mouth to say something, but just then his cell phone vibrated. He unlocked it with his thumb, looked at the screen and raised his eyebrows.
“Look,” he showed Sofía, who didn’t pay any attention to him at first, but then, very slowly, started coming back. She took a tissue from her purse and dried her eyes a little to be able to read the message.
“Rho City is safe, no one is sick here. You were vaccinated against this strain of virus. It is very dangerous and lethal. We have infrastructure, food and medical services. Come immediately to save yourself, don’t put yourself in danger.”
Sofía’s cell phone rang, she looked at it, still drying her eyes and said:
“Look, I got the same message. They’re saying we’re vaccinated?”
They heard shots in the street.
“It’s best we get back to the house fast.”
“And Marisol and her mother? We can’t leave them here.”
“I don’t think anyone can do anything more for them, daughter. There are no emergency services. There isn’t even any place to bury them even if we wanted to do it ourselves.”
“At least....at least, cover them with something,” Sofía said, looking for some sheets.
Juan Carlos sighed and helped her. He laid Daniela’s body on the floor, and before leaving, they covered the bodies with sheets.
As they walked to their house, they re-read the message. “Don’t put yourself in danger,” said the last part.
“Hell, if they don’t want us to endanger ourselves, it would be better that we wait awhile in our house. We have bottled water for a week, food for several days, and for now, electricity and gas. Out here, we risk getting into the middle of a street fight. At least as long as we have electricity and gas, I’d say we wait here. Sick people are desperate. It may sound harsh, but the people outside are either going to get better or die. Either way, it will be less dangerous than now.”
“I hope you’re right, Dad.”
“Of course I am,” he said confidently, though he thought, “I hope I’m right, too.”
When they got home, Juan Carlos just wanted to get rid of the smell and filth of the corpses with a good shower, but he sent Sofía to bathe first. Who knew how long the water and gas would last?
While Sofía showered, the cell phone vibrated again. He unlocked it again and looked at the message. This time, it wasn’t a general message like the last one, but specifically to him.
“Juan Carlos Navarro, your vehicle was parked near your home, at 1650 Malabia, license #DA 529 ZX.”
Well, if what the message said was true, they wouldn’t have to steal a car. He looked at all the food they had. He gathered all the non-perishables in a pile and thought about cooking the rest along with what was in the freezer. If they cut the gas, he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore.
He was cooking the frozen foods in various containers on the stove when he heard a racket outside. He looked out the window and saw there was very little traffic, but even so, a vehicle had crashed against the wall of a nearby building. The car door opened, and the driver stumbled out and fell beside the car, inert.
A few yards away, on the same sidewalk, he saw another person fall on the street.
He called 911 again on his cell phone, but only got a busy signal. He checked the phone—yes, the line was still working. He tried again and got a busy signal again. He turned on the TV again and his favorite news channel was dark. First, he thought he wasn’t getting a signal, but he changed channels and several movies were on. He found another news channel, where a reporter was standing before a fixed camera. He listened closely...
“...and people are advised to stay in their homes. Don’t go to the hospitals. Avoid all public places. If you are not sick, stay away from everyone. The virus spreads rapidly. Apparently, it lives in the air or on any surface for hours. You can be infected in any way, whether by saliva, blood, contact, mucus, even breathing near a sick person. The only sure way to not be infected is to be in an area free of sick people and where the virus has not been sprayed. We reiterate, we have reports of millions of deaths all over the world. Apparently, it is a bioterrorist attack, but no one has any idea who has launched it or why. The virus has been distributed in multiple forms in all important city centers, and almost the entire population of the world has been infected...” the reporter stopped and sneezed violently. He hastened to wipe a disgusting ball of snot from his nose and continued, “My God, from what we know, until now the virus seems to be totally lethal, we still do not know of anyone who has been cured. There are rumors that someone who isn’t sick said they had been vaccinated...” The reporter looked away from the camera, then continued, “but we haven’t been able to contact that person. They simply disappeared, and the source of the rumor unfortunately has died. There are also rumors that the trigger for the last stage of the virus is adrenaline. Keeping calm and not giving in to fear or anger seems to be fundamental to resist the virus. In the United States, the White House denies having anything to do with the virus...”
Juan Carlos was stunned. A triggered pandemic? And by chance a few people were vaccinated against it? It was obvious to him tha
t he would have been sick by now if he had been infected. He remembered the flu vaccine he’d been given in Tzedek’s office. It was impossible for that to have been a coincidence. The question was, if they knew this was going to happen, why didn’t they warn the government or prevent it? Or maybe the governments knew? If they didn’t know anything, could it be that this was a weapon that had ‘escaped’ them as was speculated with many other diseases? Or worse, did they release it on purpose? But who would commit such an atrocity?
He left the TV on with the volume low. In the end, all he had was a lot of questions and no answers.
Of one thing he was sure, he wasn’t going to be traveling anywhere in the middle of a pandemic. If the people who were sick weren’t going crazy when they realized there was no cure, they soon would be. And if the virus became lethal from fear or anger like the reporter said? Soon there would be no one.
Sofía appeared, dressed and drying her hair. Her eyes were swollen from crying.
“Dad? Did something happen?”
“Apart from the apocalypse, nothing new. Sorry, bad joke. The question is who and why. Watch the news if you want, now I need to clean up,” and he went to take a bath.
After a long shower, he felt a little more clear. He got dressed and went to the dining room where Sofía had finished putting things in piles.
“Look, I put the lanterns here, they have batteries and I tried all three of them,” Sofía showed him. They had two LED lanterns and one big one with three LEDs.
“Good, daughter. Go look for the box in the kitchen that has all the candles, matches, and since there are no candle holders, some old plates for the candles.”
He took out what was in the oven and they ate until they were full. Then Juan Carlos found the best backpacks they had and emptied them completely, along with a large bag and a suitcase with wheels.
“A backpack and a suitcase each. Start bringing out what you’re going to put in each one. Food, drink, first aid, lighters, filters, weapons, in backpacks. Clothing, camping items, extra footwear and other useful things in the bag and the suitcase. When we have everything here, we pack it. I want everything to be ready to go today.”
Earth Keepers Page 11
