Текст книги "Noah's Ark: Survivors"

Автор книги: Harry Dayle

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“We don’t all have to die,” Martin said coldly.

“What do you mean?” Jake looked at him.

“This boat can’t sustain three thousand people, not with the little fuel we have left. But it could keep a few hundred alive. Long enough to find a way to survive.”

“You can’t be serious?” Lucya stared open mouthed.

“Why not? It makes sense to me. Decimate the population on board. No, not decimate, more than that. Sacrifice, say, nine out of every ten people on board. The resources on the ship can keep three hundred people alive for ten times as long as they can keep three thousand alive.”

“Martin, quite apart from the fact that what you are suggesting is completely and utterly morally repugnant and out of the question, it would only prolong the inevitable. The ten percent you let live, will just live a bit longer!” Jake couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. He couldn’t look at Martin, got up and walked to the window, stared out at the fjord.

“On the contrary,” Martin was getting into the flow of his thinking. “That extra time would make all the difference. We could create a farm in the Palm Plaza. Rip out the plants, grow food. It wouldn’t be enough to feed three thousand. But three hundred? Maybe, if we were clever about it. And we can fish, too. Heck, we could even freeze those we sacrificed and eat them. Like those guys whose plane crashed in the Andes years ago. There are other ways of generating power as well, given enough time. This ship could be made self sufficient. If the population was reduced.”

“You’re disgusting. I can’t believe you would even say something like that!” Lucya slapped Martin in the face and stormed out, slamming the bridge door behind her.

“And then there were two,” Martin said.

Forty

EILEEN BAKEMAN STOOD outside her cabin, the tips of her fingers on the door handle. She had been about to enter, but a sound from inside made her stop. It was her husband’s voice. She found this strange, because he insisted on never letting anyone else into the cabin. Eileen had made some friends on board, before the asteroid, but Flynn had made it very clear that they were not welcome in their private space. So Eileen was curious; who was he talking to?

Slowly, quietly, she put her ear to the door. Apart from the distant hum of the engines still idling far below, there was no other sound. She could make out his words quiet clearly.

“…so I beg you Lord, give me the strength to carry out your work. The first of many sacrifices is soon upon me. The end draws near, the beautiful day approaches. I am the instrument of your will on earth, your humble and faithful servant. Amen.”

Eileen gasped, took a step back and turned to leave. The door opened and Flynn filled the frame.

“Hello my love. It is time for you to come inside.”

“Oh, Flynn, hi honey. I was just going to see if the dinner service had started.” She took another step away from the cabin.

He reached out, grabbed her arm, pulled her towards the door.

“Flynn! You’re hurting me!”

“I said, it is time to come inside now.”

He yanked her arm sharply, and in one movement pulled her through the door and flung her onto the bed.

“Flynn, I don’t understand? What did I do wrong? Tell me what I did Flynn, I’ll put it right, I promise!” Tears began to streak down her face.

“Me me me, it’s always about you isn’t it? You think you did something wrong? You did nothing. Nothing! You are a waste of space, and a waste of resources. This ship doesn’t need people like you. People like you are what caused the problem. You consume relentlessly. You take without giving back. You suck the world dry. He gave us a beautiful, abundant world. A world of balance and harmony. And now that balance will be restored.”

“Flynn, you’re scaring me!”

She dug the heels of her shoes into the bed, pushing herself away from him, but in vain. He was far stronger than she, and he simply tugged her back towards him. He reached over her head, picked up a large white pillow. It was embroidered with the name Spirit of Arcadia, and the logo of Pelagios Line.

“Hush now, my love. It’s alright, I forgive you. And He forgives you too. He loves all of his children, you will find peace in Heaven.”

“Flynn, no!”

But her words went unheard, as the pillow covered her face. He held it down, a hand on each side. She writhed and kicked, and nearly broke free. But he sat astride her, pinning her down. It didn’t take long, her struggling quickly abated, and then she lay motionless.

Forty-One

THE SILENCE THAT had engulfed the bridge since Lucya had left was broken by a knock at the door. Neither Martin or Jake responded. Then a second knock, more insistent.

“Who is it?” Jake asked wearily.

“Melvin.”

He got to his feet with great effort, still feeling somewhat groggy from having fainted earlier. The subsequent events had taken any energy that might have been left, right out of him. He shuffled to the door, pulled it open.

Melvin strode in, followed by another man that Jake didn’t recognise. An older man. He was carrying a gun.

More men filed in behind him. Including Melvin, Jake counted fourteen in total. There were no women. The man with the gun shut the door to the bridge and sprang the bolt, locking out anyone who might have a key.

“Sit down, Jake,” Melvin said.

He didn’t really understand what was going on, but he was in no mood to argue. He went back to his captain’s chair and sank into it.

“So is this mutiny?” he asked.

“No, it’s more democratic than that.” As Melvin spoke, the man with the gun stepped up to his side. The others remained silently at the back of the room. “You made a promise. If there was no longer any chance that the owners of this ship had survived, there is to be an election.”

Martin looked on, saying nothing.

“From what you and your men have reported from your landing expedition,” Melvin continued, “we understand that time has come. There are no more survivors. The world as we know it is gone. You and your crew are no longer employees. We are no longer customers. We are all equal. We are all simply survivors. And it is therefore right that we choose who is to be in charge, a leader.”

“You’re right,” Jake said.

“The election is to be held today, immediately. You will put out a call instructing anyone on board who wishes to participate to go to the theatre, cinema, and casino. We have people in all three locations ready to hand out ballot papers.”

“No,” Jake said, simply.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said no.”

“What happened to ‘you’re right’? Do we need to force your hand?” Melvin glanced at the men behind, and the man with the gun stood next to him.

“Nope. No force necessary. And no election, either. Well, unless you want to run against anyone else. But not me, you’re not running against me. I’m done. You’re right, I’m no longer an employee, I no longer represent the owners of this ship, there are no owners now. I have no more right to be in this chair than you, him, or anyone else.” He pointed at Martin, who continued to remain silent. “To be honest with you Melvin, I didn’t want to be in charge. I never had any grand aspirations to climb the career ladder as far as captain. I certainly don’t want the responsibility for three thousand souls given what’s out there now. Our days are severely numbered, and you are more than welcome to see out those remaining few from this seat.”

He got up, walked towards the door, patting Martin on the shoulder as he passed by, but without looking at him.

“Wait!” Melvin stepped to the side, blocking Jake’s exit. “You can’t leave the bridge. I need a pilot, and you’re the best qualified.”

“Well it’s like you said Melvin, there are no employees any more. I don’t work for you, or anyone. You’re in charge now, so that can be your first decision can’t it? Choose who you’re going to hire. I’m not applying for the job, by the way. Pedro’s good, and I think a couple of the junior seamen survived. I’m sure they’d be happy to interview for the position, or ministerial post, or whatever you decide to call it. Have fun.”

He walked around Melvin, unbolted the door, and left without looking back.

Forty-Two

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, can I have your attention please. This is an important announcement that concerns everyone aboard this ship. My name is Melvin Sherwood. For the last two days I have been representing the interests of passengers on the Spirit of Arcadia. Today is one of the most important days in the history of the human race. Today, we start over. A new community. A community of survivors.

You will no doubt already have heard certain rumours regarding a landing party that was sent to the town of Longyearbyen today. Their mission was to discover the fate of the world. What they found, was not good news. I will not lie to you, and this is difficult to hear and to accept I know, but the town and everything in it have been destroyed. The landing parties findings show beyond all shadow of a doubt that, as we feared, the world as we know it has ended. Anyone who survived the heat and storm of the asteroid itself, must surely have perished in the highly toxic ash that it deposited. Maybe, somewhere, there are survivors who made it to some kind of shelter. But even they are unlikely to survive an encounter with the ash when they resurface. We are forced to conclude that the population on board this ship are the sole survivors of the human race.”

Melvin paused, partly for effect, and partly to gather his own thoughts, unaware that every corner of the ship had fallen silent as people listened to his crackling voice on the PA, hanging on his every word.

“Most of us joined this cruise as paying customers, passengers. We were looked after by crew members. Now, there is no distinction. We are all survivors. As many of you know, it was my intention to stand in an election against Acting Captain Jake Noah as the person who would represent the people, and led us in our quest for survival. Captain Noah has chosen not to stand. Indeed the captain has, I am sorry to say, abandoned his seat with immediate effect.

Every community needs a leader, and we must choose one as quickly as possible. I am therefore calling for a debate about the immediate direction we should take, and for and an election to choose a new captain. Anyone who believes they are the right person for that role, may present themselves. Everyone over the age of sixteen years should have a vote. I extend an invitation to all aboard to join with me in the theatre this evening at nine, where those wishing to stand can make their case, and we—as a democratic community—can decide our destiny.

Make no mistake, the times ahead will be difficult for us all. We will have to make some tough choices, unimaginable choices. History may not look kindly on the decisions we will make, but we must do what is necessary in order to survive.

Thank you for listening.”

Forty-Three

JAKE LOOKED AT the speaker inset in the ceiling above his bed. It had just fallen silent.

“Hardly Churchill,” he said to himself.

He rolled over, and tried to go to sleep.

Someone had other ideas though, and within minutes a rapid knocking at his door arrested his slide into unconsciousness.

“Go away.” He didn’t want to see anyone.

“Jake, you’d better open up and tell me what on earth is going on.”

Maybe, he decided, he could make an exception for Lucya. Besides, she was the most stubborn person he knew, there was no way she would leave him in peace. He forced his eyes open and went to let her in. She barged past him and stood at the end of the bed, hands on her hips.

“What are you doing in here? I mean, I am assuming you did hear what Melvin just said? Why aren’t you going upstairs to kick his ass? Come on! Jesus Jake, if you’re worried about Tania, don’t be! She’ll have to look out for herself!”

“Lucya, calm down.”

“Calm down? Have you completely lost it? Kiera said you got a bump on the head. Did it knock all sense out of you? We need to go and stop him! Set the record straight!”

“The record is straight. There’s nothing to get worked up about.”

“He thinks he’s in charge!”

“He is in charge.”

A stunned silence. Lucya dropped to the bed, mouth open. She tried to speak, realised she didn’t know what to say, so stopped again.

“Melvin’s right,” Jake said. “I have no more right to be in charge than him or anyone else. So I let him take over.”

“Oh, really? No more right perhaps, but a lot more qualification! What does he know about running a ship? You think he understands everything it takes to keep this place going?”

“Of course not. But he doesn’t need to, there are plenty of people who do. Martin, Silvia, Claude, you.”

“Don’t count on me, I’m not spending a second helping him out.”

“It doesn’t matter, Dave probably will. And even if he doesn’t, we can’t go anywhere anyway. You know we’re all dead, it’s only a question of time now.”

“So that’s it? You’re just giving up?

“What else can I do, Lucya? What else can any of us do?”

“We fight! We work together! We find a way! We have the census. You know who’s on this ship? I’ve seen the lists! There are builders, carpenters, teachers, chefs, farmers, fishermen, mothers, doctors. We have every skill we need start again. We could build a home, a town. A city!”

“Where? The land is poisoned. There’s nowhere left to go. If the land this far north is like that, there is no more hope.”

“But there must be!” Lucya was crying now. She stood, looked up into Jake’s eyes. “I don’t want to die Jake. I don’t want you to die! I love you and I can’t let it end like this!”

The two of them looked at each other, motionless, neither sure what was about to happen next. They made up their minds at the exact same instant as they flung themselves together, the stress of the last few days fuelling their frenzied and passionate embrace. Two bodies sank onto the bed, and Jake knew he was no longer afraid of dying.

• • • • •

He awoke to the sound of Lucya getting dressed.

“No, don’t get up,” she said from the end of the bed. “I’m just going to my cabin to get some things. I’ll be back in five minutes. If you want me back, that is?”

He smiled. “Of course I want you back.”

She slipped out the door and was gone. Jake lay staring at the ceiling, trying to work out how he felt. He had loved Jane for as long as he could remember. They had met at university, got together the first week. He was devastated when they had separated. But deep down, he knew it was over. He had always known, if he was honest with himself. They wanted different things and had been growing apart for years. He had tried to blame it on the fact he was away at sea for so much of the year, but that was merely an excuse, things were no better when they were together. If anything, they were worse, the cracks were all too obvious. And then then was Lucya. Of course he had known how she felt about him, everyone knew, she was hardly subtle. And he was deeply attracted to her. But their rank on board, and their professionalism, not to mention Jake’s residual feelings for his wife, meant that nothing could ever come of their feelings.

But now? Now the world had changed, in so many ways. Time was running out, they were surely going to end their days on the ship in the weeks to come. So here it was, his last shot at happiness. He had shed his responsibilities, and he knew Lucya would never set foot on the bridge as long as Melvin was in charge. No, they would see our their remaining time as passengers on a cruise ship. They would savour every moment as though it was their last, knowing it really could be.

With that thought in mind, and a smile on his face, he got out of bed and strode into the tiny shower room. A heavy hammering on the door brought him out again.

“Okay, coming. Don’t break the door down! I know you’re eager to get back into bed.” He clasped the handle, swung the door inwards.

It wasn’t Lucya. Instead, he came face to face with two men. One looked Chinese. Shorter than himself, older too, with thinning hair. He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts. The other man was about the same height as Jake, but was of a more substantial build. He was blonde, blue eyed, with sharp features.

Both men were carrying guns. Jake recognised them as the semi automatic weapons from the secure cabinet on the bridge.

“Get some clothes on, you’re coming with us,” the blonde man said.

He spoke with a clipped accent. German, Jake thought. Or maybe Austrian. His mind was set racing. What could they need him for? He’d relinquished control. Did they need someone to pilot the ship? Pedro could do that, or any one of a number of sailors aboard.

“Why?” He asked.

The two men looked at each other, then back to Jake.

“Melvin said you weren’t very intelligent. Let’s see, two of us, armed. One of you, naked. I think we give the orders, and that you follow them, yes?”

“Or what, you’ll shoot me? I assume from your being here that you need me, so shooting me isn’t going to help, is it?”

“Not you. But your girlfriend? Ja, I could maybe shoot her.” The blonde man smiled, just a tiny bit. “I mean, after I’ve had some fun with her first.”

Jake felt the blood drain from his face.

“Ja, that got your attention, no? So now you’re thinking, maybe we’re bluffing?”

It was precisely what Jake was thinking, or at least hoping.

The blonde man continued. “But I can tell you that she left this cabin four minutes ago. He hair was a messy, and she was not wearing shoes.”

“Where is she now?”

“She is enjoying the company of my colleagues. Being reunited with Tania Bloom. So, if you want to see her alive again, I strongly recommend that you follow my earlier instruction.” The smile disappeared. “Get dressed, and come with us.”

The Chinese man nodded once. Jake turned and scrambled to find his clothes. They had been removed in haste, and were spread around the small cabin. A sock here, a shirt over there. With panic rising, he pulled on his trousers and shirt.

“Take me to her, now!” he shouted.

“No, not yet. You need to be dressed properly Mr Noah. Put some socks on, tuck your shirt in. Take your time.”

“What?”

“I said take your time. Your girlfriend is not going anywhere, she can wait.”

Jake didn’t understand, but he was in no position to argue. He put on the rest of his clothes, tidied himself up the best he could with his hands shaking.

“Shoes,” the blonde man said. “And your jacket, too.”

As soon as he was fully dressed, the Chinese man gestured with the barrel of his gun that Jake should step outside. He took one last look back at his cabin, he had a feeling he would never see it again. It wasn’t much, but it was home for much of the year. The clock radio next to his bed showed the time was 21:30. He and Lucya had slept for longer than he thought. He swallowed hard, shut the door, and looked at the blonde man.

“Where now?” he said.

“Follow me.”

Forty-Four

THE THEATRE WAS almost full, not quite as packed as three days ago when everyone had jammed in to witness the end of the world, but considerably busier than for the memorial service. A few seats remained empty, and there was plenty of standing room. Conversations were being held in hushed voices, there was a real air of anticipation, if not quite hope. On the stage stood a tall red haired man, and an equally tall but much more muscular and somewhat older man. It was the latter who spoke first. He had no microphone, but the acoustics were excellent in the well designed auditorium, and he projected his powerful voice into every corner. As soon as he began to speak, the crowd fell silent, devouring his every word.

“Ladies, gentlemen, allow me briefly to introduce myself. My name is Flynn Bakeman I’m here this evening as an independent moderator. The purpose of our time here is to elect someone to take charge of this ship now that the captain has stepped down. I think everyone will agree that this should be done quickly, efficiently, and democratically. This gentleman to my side is Melvin Sherwood. Many of you will already have met Melvin, he has been working with the bridge crew representing passenger interests. Now, if we can get things underway, can I ask anyone who intends to stand against Melvin to come and join us on the stage. If there are too many candidates we will probably need to hold two rounds of voting. So please, come and join us if you wish to stand for election as captain.”

A voice from the back called out “What is this, X Factor?” It was met with a few sniggers, but the noise quickly abated, as those present looked on intently waiting to see how many people would get up onto the stage.

Only one man did. He had been sitting in the front row. Those who arrived earliest in the theatre would have seen that he was the first person seated. In fact had anyone gone to the theatre hours earlier, when Melvin had finished his announcement, they would have found this man’s seat occupied.

The man made his way up the four steps at the side of the stage. He was short, a little hunched over, and rather scruffy. He wore grey trousers, a blue shirt, and a beige jacket. The untidy thin brown hair on his head seemed mismatched with his wiry and bushy beard. Guided by Flynn, he took up position next to Melvin. The two men shook hands, then turned to look out to the auditorium.

A few minutes went by, but it had become clear that nobody else was going to take the challenge. Melvin had to try and suppress a grin. The competition was less even than he had expected. Finally, Flynn spoke again.

“Thank you, sir, for your courage. Now I would like to invite our two candidates here to speak for a few minutes. Each can present their ideas for exactly how we should proceed in the coming days. In order to keep things fair, I will allow each man a maximum of five minutes in which to speak. When both have had their turn, we will open the floor to questions for a period of thirty minutes During this time we will all have the opportunity to cross examine these men. I will then call for a vote by way of a show of hands. If it’s too close to call, we will take a count by asking you to leave through one of two exits. So if that’s all clear, then I give the floor to our first candidate.”

Flynn took a couple of steps back, and Melvin stepped up to the front and centre of the stage.

“Thank you Mr Bakeman, and thank you sir, for presenting yourself,” he nodded towards the scruffy man. “And thank you to all of you for coming here and supporting democracy. My name is Melvin, and until three days ago I was a passenger, an entrepreneur, a son, and a brother. This was my first vacation in more than five years. The last five years I have created a business. I was out of work, but I didn’t want to live off the state. So I borrowed money from friends and family, and I started a business. I worked every single day of the last five years, many days I worked sixteen or seventeen hours. My hard work paid off, and I was able not only to support myself, but also to take on employees and support them and their families too. I tell you this for one reason. That reason is this. To show to you that I know how hard work and commitment pays off. I understand what it takes to get through the hard times, the times when you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know that if you make a plan, and stick to it, keep doing what you believe, then eventually, inevitably, that work will reward you.

“This ship needs a plan. To say there are dark days ahead would be a massive understatement. I think we all comprehend the enormity of the problem here. We are a floating city with severely limited resources. We have to act decisively and quickly, before those resources are at an end. If you elect me tonight, to take the captain’s chair, then I will immediately order this ship to sail for Scotland. It is well within the range of our fuel reserves, and it has one unique feature that I believe will be our salvation. There is a hardened military facility in the north of Scotland, a place that was designed to withstand nuclear attack. If anyone has survived this disaster, they will be in such a facility. Moreover, the bunkers in this base are kept stocked with supplies to last months or years.

I am not suggesting this trip will be easy or without danger. The facility is inland and will require an expedition through dangerous toxic ash. As your captain, I will lead this expedition. I will take on the risk, because I believe that the reward will be survival for us all. That is all I have to say, thank you.”

Melvin stepped back. There was silence. Then somebody, one person near the front, began to clap. They were joined by another, and then another. Soon the whole auditorium was resonating with the sound of a thousand people clapping and cheering, and shouting Melvin’s name.

Flynn waited for the excitement to calm down before once again taking centre stage.

“Thank you Mr Sherwood. A passionate speech indeed. So now I would like to ask our second candidate to take the floor.” He looked at the bearded man. “If you would like to step forward, you have five minutes.”

Flynn once again stepped back, taking up position next to Melvin. The scruffy man moved to the front of the stage.

And that is when all hell broke loose.