Текст книги "Noah's Ark: Encounters"

Автор книги: Harry Dayle

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Twenty-Nine

“WHAT’S THAT?” JAKE was on his feet, circling an area of the screen with his index finger. “It moved, right? It’s not my imagination. That moved!”

Bodil twisted a knob and the image on one of the monitors zoomed in on the spot Jake had highlighted. There was a frustrating wait while the sonar sent out its next pulse of energy and the screen updated.

Bodil shook her head. “It’s a shoal of fish. Big one, too.”

“But it looks like one object. You said this sonar could detect individual fish. Why aren’t we seeing them as dots or something?”

“At this resolution they appear as a single mass. We are looking for large objects. We can cover more ground at this lower resolution.”

Jake walked back to his chair. He looked at his watch again. Twenty-two minutes. He thought about Lucya, wondered if she had delivered the fatal dose. Wondered if the men were succumbing to the effects. Wondered if Erica was okay.

“I think I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he said, staring at a blank wall. “I shouldn’t be here. I should be back there, ready to negotiate more time.”

Bodil said nothing, remaining fixated on her monitors.

“This was a ridiculous idea. We’ll never find them in time. What was I thinking? Erica was in danger, now Lucya too. And if we can’t get that antidote, anyone who tries to help them is in danger.”

“We’re all in danger from the submarine, Jake.” Bodil didn’t look up. She tapped at keys, scribbled notes on paper, but her eyes never left the all-important screens. “You have others on the ship. Others who will take care of your loved ones, no?”

“Yes, but—”

“If we cannot find the submarine, their efforts might be for nothing.” She leaned forward, examining her monitor closely.

Jake felt something had changed. He turned to watch her. “What is it? You see something?” He took three steps back to her and squinted at the image. It still made little sense to him.

“More fish,” Bodil said calmly. “Sorry.”

Jake studied where she was looking. A darker patch among the circle of colour.

“Bodil, how big is that shoal? What scale are we looking at here?”

“It’s a small one, a few metres across, four or five. I could measure more precisely, but I’d have to stop watching the main screen.”

Jake rubbed his cheek with his right hand, and lifted his head to the ceiling, deep in thought. “Why would you think a shoal of fish four metres across was a hundred-metre-long, seven-thousand-odd-tonne submarine?”

“Because those subs are stealthy. We talked about this. They reduce their sonar signature. Even active sonar will have trouble seeing them. If we pick them up, they won’t look like a submarine, they’ll look like a much smaller object.”

Jake was nodding. “That’s what I thought. Yes…that’s what I thought.” He turned to the two sailors who were still with them in the room, sitting looking somewhat bored. “You, stay here and help Bodil with the lookout. You, go to the bridge and relieve Daniel. Send him out on deck to help me, and tell him to bring the radios. I’ve got an idea.”

• • •

Lucya froze. Her hands were still by the grille opening onto the classroom. If anyone looked towards it, they would surely see her.

The room beyond had become silent but for one man – the leader, she presumed – who was shouting orders. The children were afraid. A few began to wail and sob.

“What is trick?” The words cut through the air like a clap of thunder. “You try trick? We kill child!”

Another scream. Impossible to tell this time if it was Erica.

Then, Erica’s voice. Remarkably calm under the intense pressure. “It was me! I sneezed. It was me!” As if to prove the point, she sneezed, and then a third time. “I’m sorry, I had an itch. I didn’t mean to!”

“You go there. Corner. No help others.”

“Yes, sir. I will go to the corner.”

More words, this time in Korean. The men could be heard moving around. Were they checking the room, making sure nobody had somehow got in? Lucya wondered. She could hear the chairs and tables that hadn’t been used in the door barricade being moved, pulled back. Every corner of the room was being examined. Holding her breath, she pulled her hands back from the grille, and just in time. The light entering the shaft was momentarily blocked. Someone was in front of the grille. It rattled as the man on the other side verified that nobody could have come through it. He called to his leader, the voice so close, just inches away from her. Then he moved on, the light returned, and Lucya breathed out, very quietly.

• • •

The wind whipped around Jake’s face when he stepped outside. He could see the two sailors standing by the sonar winch equipment, idle, and called to them. “You men! Fetch one of those life-raft capsules and bring it to the bow section. Quick as you can!”

Without waiting for a reply he was off, jogging along the deck towards the front of the Lance. Daniel came out and caught up with him.

“Got those portable radios you asked for,” he said. “I thought we only brought them with us for emergency use. Have we found the sub?”

“Not yet. Daniel, see that harpoon gun?” He pointed towards a structure near the bow. A swivelling frame atop which sat what could almost have passed for a telescope, were it not for the pointed and lethal-looking arrowhead that protruded from the sea-facing end. Daniel nodded. “Ever used one?”

“No, Cap… No, Jake.”

“Then we’ll have to learn together. Don’t look so worried. Accuracy won’t be important.”

They approached the harpoon launcher cautiously, as if a misstep or too much noise would cause it to go off on its own. Next to the main assembly, in a frame bolted to the side of the hull, were an array of projectiles. Two of them carried warnings: Caution: Explosive.

“What’s a research ship doing with exploding harpoons?” Daniel asked.

“It was a fishing vessel before. I suppose they chose to keep this. It’s probably been used for whaling in the past.”

“Think it still works?”

“We’ll find out. Ah, here are the others.”

The two sailors appeared, carrying between them the white capsule that housed an inflatable life raft. It resembled an enormous pill, and was designed to split open when it hit the water, the raft inflating automatically, filled by a compressed-air cylinder.

“Weren’t many of these left,” one of the men commented. “Looks like someone’s nicked a few already. I’m guessing those would be the ones tied up to the side of the Arcadia?”

Jake nodded. “Now, your mission, chaps, is to get that thing hooked up to this in such a way that we can fire it out to sea.” He patted the top of the harpoon launcher. The men took a step back.

“You’re not serious?”

“I’m very serious. And may I remind you that time is very much of the essence.”

The sailors studied the harpoon launcher and the range of projectiles stored next to it. They talked among themselves, working out a way of fulfilling the bizarre request.

“Daniel, the radios?”

“Here.” He pulled out three small portable radio transceivers and held them out.

“Are any of those waterproof?”

“They all are.”

“Delayed transmission function?”

“Yep, these two can do that.”

“Perfect.” Jake smiled. He took both of the radios in hand, looked them over, and pocketed one. “We need a way of attaching this to the raft capsule.”

“I’m on it.” The sailor took off, heading back towards the wheelhouse section of the ship where he disappeared inside.

Jake turned back to the others and watched. They had removed the harpoon from the launcher and were now piercing the capsule with the heads of two smaller harpoons.

“Captain Noah, for this to work we’re going to have to insert these quite deep into the capsule. They will certainly pierce the fabric of the raft inside. It may not float for long.”

Jake waved a hand. “It doesn’t need to. Do what you have to.”

They looked sceptical, but they didn’t question. Pushing hard, they buried the spears until almost half their considerable length had disappeared into the white plastic. Satisfied with their efforts, they picked up the strange construction and inserted the exposed section of the harpoons into the launcher, squeezing them together so that they both fit in the small tube. The raft wobbled precariously, but it held.

“How far do you think it will go?” Jake asked.

“Never used one of these. The raft don’t weigh much, just bulky is all. No way of telling though.”

“No,” Jake said thoughtfully. “No, you’re right. Probably best you get yourselves to the back of the ship. On your way, collect up the other two and Bodil. Stand by to launch that lifeboat if necessary.”

“Captain, what are you planning?”

“If we can’t find that submarine, then we’re going to make it come to us. Now, go, quickly!”

The men nodded, and scarpered. They passed Daniel coming the other way.

“Found some duct tape. Every engine room has some!”

“Perfect.” Jake took the tape and unrolled a length. He placed the radio he was still holding onto the top of the raft capsule, and stuck it down in such a way that the controls were accessible. With both hands now free, he peeled off more of the tape and wound a full length all around the capsule. Finally, he pulled on the radio to check it was secure.

“Daniel, thank you.” He stuck out a hand. Daniel shook it uncertainly. “You’ve been a great help and it’s been an honour. Now, please get to the stern with the others. If need be, launch the lifeboat and get out of here. Don’t wait for me.”

“How will I know if we have to launch the boat?”

“You’ll know.”

Daniel patted Jake on the shoulder. “Good luck, man. Whatever it is you’re planning.” With that, he was gone.

Alone at last, Jake turned back to the strange raft assembly. He switched on the radio and set the frequency from memory. He found the delayed transmission function, and set it to fifteen seconds, the highest it could go. He silently thanked Lucya, his chief radio officer and his beloved partner, for her insistence on keeping all bridge officers up to date on the workings of the radio equipment.

He checked his watch. Six minutes to the deadline. There was no more time, but he had to choose his words carefully. He bent over the little radio, pressed in the transmit button, and began to speak.

• • •

Dan Mitchell was getting desperate. He’d arrived in the medical centre to find a sign on the door that said “Back soon. In case of emergency, please try cabin 845.” How soon, he’d wondered? He banged on the door anyway, but nobody came. So he had gone back to the lift, back up to deck eight, and found cabin 845.

That room had had a sign on the door too. “Quarantine: Strictly No Admittance.” And again, he’d tried banging on the door anyway. This time someone had come. They’d shouted out the same message as the sign outside; they weren’t letting anyone in.

“My wife is having a baby!” he had cried.

There had been a pause, then: “Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“No! Really. Surely you must know about this if you’re medical?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help. This is a quarantine area. Nobody in or out without permission from Doctor Vardy.”

“Where is Doctor Vardy?”

“Probably in the medical centre.”

“I’ve just come from there.”

Another pause. He’d thought he heard voices, a discussion behind the door. Then: “He might be on deck two. By the classroom.”

“Thanks.”

Deck two wasn’t an area Dan had frequented. There had been no conferences on the cruise, he didn’t gamble and so had not been to the casino, and since the asteroid he had had no call to visit the classrooms. So he wasn’t sure what to expect when he had gone down there, but it certainly wasn’t being met by an armed guard.

“I need to see Doctor Vardy.”

“Nobody goes in or out. Sorry.”

“But my wife is having a baby!”

“Try medical.”

“I have. There’s nobody there!”

“Sorry, mate. Can’t help you then.”

“But…she’s having a baby!”

“You said. P’raps you should be with her?”

“But we need a doctor, or a midwife. Is Carrie down here?”

The man had not answered the question, but Dan had been sure the answer had to be yes. “We have an ongoing situation here, mate. Nobody goes in or out. I’m sorry I can’t help. I must ask you to leave.”

Dan had done as he was told. He thought about Vicky. She would have argued, forced her way through, armed guard or no armed guard. But he wasn’t Vicky, he was Dan. The shy one, the weak one, the one who avoided conflict at all costs.

After deck two he had tried the bridge, but was told to get lost. He’d tried to find someone from the committee, but none could be found. He’d even gone to the security office in the hope that a security escort could find Vardy, or indeed anyone medically trained to help, but that office was locked up and empty.

Now, after exhausting all ideas, he decided to try the medical centre one more time. Dan never ran, but he walked very fast down the corridor of deck five. Faster than he remembered ever having walked before.

The sign was still hung on the door.

Back Soon

He tapped politely, then when there was no reply, he banged harder. “How long is soon? Is nobody there? My wife is having a baby!”

Nobody answered.

Thirty

THE PAIN WAS becoming unbearable now. Her legs were in danger of getting cramp, and if that happened, Lucya knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid crying out. She tried to stretch them, to bend them, to do anything to help improve the circulation, but her movement was so restricted, the tiny movements she could manage made almost no difference at all.

The legs were only half the problem. Her arms in front of her had gone completely numb. After the sneeze, she hadn’t dared try and replace the plastic vial in the neck band for fear of making a noise and drawing more attention to herself. Now it sat precariously in her hands. She couldn’t feel it, so just gripped it tightly, an action that was bringing her more pain as her muscles cried out for some respite.

Finally, the cold was making the whole ordeal twice as agonising. Vardy had warned her. He’d said the cold would bite, that she would go through hell. When the fans had restarted, it hadn’t seemed so bad. The air was chilled, but hardly up to the Arctic conditions they had experienced at the North Pole. She’d been moving then, though. Exerting energy, generating body heat. Now, motionless in the coffin-like tube, the chilly air was slowly refrigerating her. Her body shivered involuntarily, desperately trying to create warmth, and she fought it constantly for fear of making noise.

There was one upside to the torment, one positive aspect to the situation that kept her hanging on: the Koreans were suffering even more.

She focussed her mind on listening to what was going on in the classroom, trying to picture the scene playing out so close by yet out of sight.

It had started with mumbled complaints. At least, she assumed they were complaints. It was hard to tell; the men sounded pretty upset all the time anyway. Since the virus had been released, there had been a definite downturn in the vibe. There had been coughs and sneezes. Lucya didn’t think she’d heard any of those before releasing the fine spray, but she hadn’t been paying attention then either. A better signal had come when the leader’s voice, easy to pick out because it sounded somehow angrier than any of the others, had made some kind of demand of one of his men. The man had replied, and then an argument had ensued. This had resulted, she had deduced from sound alone, in the man being hit by the leader. Whatever reaction he had been expecting, he didn’t get, and the other men had all gasped. After that there had been a bit of a panic, and the men talked among themselves, their voices filled with fear. The leader had brought them to attention, and snapped more orders. The man who had been struck was carried into a corner. Not the same corner as Erica, but a corner that Lucya could just about see through the grille. Luckily for her, the man was, by this time, unconscious. Had he been awake, he would have been looking directly at the grille and would likely have seen her hands. As it was, Lucya could see his head. Not clearly, but enough to be sure that his hair was falling out and his face was covered in deep red blotches.

She was stunned. These were unmistakable effects of the advanced stages of the virus. It was working incredibly fast.

No sooner had the man been dumped in the corner away from the others, than more bickering had started up. The leader was losing control as fear and uncertainly gained the upper hand.

The children remained quiet. Those who had the unfortunate idea to speak or to cry were rapidly shouted down. They’d learned quickly, and kept their noise level to a minimum.

Lucya started to shiver again. She battled with herself to stay still, to stay silent. Her concentration was broken by a voice.

It was Erica.

“Excuse me? I think you should get a doctor.”

“Quiet!” The angry bark of the leader.

“Sorry. It’s just, you’re all sick, aren’t you? People on this ship were sick like that. Lots of them died, but the doctors saved the rest. If you don’t see a doctor, you might die.”

“I say quiet, girl!”

Erica ignored him. Lucya shut her eyes and silently begged the girl to do as the man said and shut up, but in vain. “If you’re dead, you won’t be able to get on your ship, will you? I thought you wanted to get on your ship? You should see Doctor Vardy. He helped lots of people.”

“Stop!” His voice got louder; he was coming closer to Erica. Then he cried out in pain. One of his men said something and he shouted back at them twice as loud. Then, silence once more.

Lucya waited for someone to move or say something, but it seemed they were all in fear of their leader, who, by her best estimation, was somewhere close by, near the ventilation grille.

At that moment, her arms gave up. Tired, numb, devoid of feeling and ignoring the instructions from her brain, her hands fell open. The empty vial rolled silently across her right palm, then clattered down onto the shaft, bouncing three times. The sound echoed all the way back to the plant room.

• • •

He released the transmit button and repositioned himself behind the launcher. Out loud, he counted down the seconds.

“Fifteen elephants, fourteen elephants, thirteen elephants, twelve elephants…”

His hands gripped the wide handle. The cannon swung easily, even with the unwieldy package protruding from the end. He held it fast, pointing out to sea, away from the Spirit of Arcadia. The trigger mechanism was operated by a secondary handle. Jake thought it looked like a bicycle brake; a strange association for such a potentially deadly device. He pushed the thought aside and realised he had almost lost count.

“Seven elephants, six elephants…”

No time to lose. He stretched his fingers out and curled them around the lever. Without another thought, he squeezed.

There was a one-second delay.

“Five elephants…”

Then, a muffled crack as the explosive charge fired. The twin harpoons forced themselves deeper into the capsule, and for a split second Jake was afraid they were going to come right out the other side. His fears were for nothing though. As the spikes pushed against the compressed raft inside the plastic cocoon, they could bury themselves no more, and their momentum was transferred to the capsule itself. With a strange whoosh like a dud firework going off into a crazy spin, the whole bizarre assembly launched itself forwards and out of the cannon.

“Four elephants, three elephants…”

It flew better than he had expected, and whilst it didn’t exactly soar like a bird, it did travel a good ship’s length, maybe more, all the time arcing downwards towards the sea.

He scrabbled around in his pocket and found the second radio. Realising he should have switched it on before launching, he poked at the power button repeatedly.

“Two elephants, one elephant…”

The radio popped into life. He twisted the dial and watched as the digital readout counted up to the frequency he was desperate to hear.

“Zero!”

One more turn.

The capsule hit the water.

The radio remained dead.

“Shit!”

Then he heard his own voice from the little speaker, tinny and compressed. At the same time, he watched as the white plastic cocoon split in two.

“Spirit of Arcadia, this is Captain Coote of HMS Ambush. The enemy submarine has disappeared, we are surfacing. Prepare for docking.”

The black-and-orange raft spilled out of its shell. Even from his position on the Lance, Jake could hear the hissing of the compressed-air cylinder filling its chambers. Folds of rubber unfurled and expanded, growing and taking shape at incredible speed.

Jake’s voice echoed from the radio once more, the auto-repeat function doing its duty perfectly. The radio hissed static for a second, then squelched itself silent. The raft was fully inflated, drifting freely, a dark blob on a darker ocean.

“Come on…see it. See it!”

He moved to the very bow of the ship and leaned over the handrail, scanning the sea, looking for any sign of activity, of life.

It didn’t take long.

From his port side he caught sight of movement. Below the surface of the water, a slender object moving at high speed. In another time, another place, it could have been mistaken for a dolphin, riding alongside the cruise ship, playing in the wake. But this was no dolphin. This was death in a tube. It was headed directly for the life raft.