Noah's Ark: Contagion (3 page)

They were not travelling particularly fast; the reactor in the navy vessel wasn’t designed to power and propel a cruise ship as well as perform its regular duty and they didn’t wish to stress it. Even so, when he stepped out onto the walkway the wind slapped and whipped at him with unexpected ferocity.

“Come on, old boy, we’ll be upon that signal before you get across!” Coote bellowed from behind him, laughing heartily as he did so.

“This is bad enough when we’re not moving. I feel like I’m about to walk the plank!” Jake gulped a huge breath of salty air and stepped forward with faux confidence. Once he got going it was easier to continue. He didn’t look down, or behind him, but kept his eyes fixed on the submariner guarding the hatch at the top of the giant fin. The man was a true professional; if he found Jake’s fear amusing, he didn’t let it show.

“Welcome aboard HMS
Ambush
, Captain,” he said, giving Jake a hand getting up over the lip of the tower.

“Thank you.” He hesitated, searching for the name, “Brian, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir, Brian, sir.”

The sound of footsteps thumping along the walkway caused both men to look up. Brian immediately stood to attention.

“At ease, Able Seaman Thomas,” Coote said, grinning from ear to ear. “I must say, Jake, I know you’re not a fan, but I think this arrangement is marvellous! Visiting your ship is like popping into town for a coffee and some shopping. So convenient. Just imagine, if we find more survivors out there, we could end up with a virtual floating village! Well don’t just stand there, old boy, let’s get inside and see where we’re headed.”

Jake smiled. Gibson Coote was an acquired taste, but universally liked and admired by his crew, and he could see why. He ran a tight ship based on mutual respect. With many of his sailors now taking what Coote jokingly called ‘shore leave’ on the cruise ship, Jake had initially wondered if that closeness and loyalty might be eroded, but nothing of the sort had happened. If anything, Coote’s crew appeared to be pulling together to form an even stronger team, bound by a desire to work for the good of the combined population.

The two captains descended the ladder into the labyrinthine hull of the submarine. Jake wasn’t a tall man, but on the few occasions he had been aboard he found himself automatically bowing his head as he walked through the narrow steel passageways, claustrophobic cabins, and working areas. Despite the abundance of lighting, it still took his eyes a few minutes to adjust to the dim and shadowy conditions.

Everything about the
Ambush
was a stark contrast to the
Spirit of Arcadia
. Where the cruise ship was light, airy, and spacious, the submarine was dark, stuffy, and confined. There was no place for the plush carpeted and richly decorated communal areas of Jake’s ship. Instead, every square centimetre of space was used, often for multiple functions. Food was stored everywhere; under beds, between pipes, even—Jake was told, although he hadn’t been allowed to see for himself—in the torpedo tubes. The officers on the cruiser often complained that their cabins were pokey, but compared to conditions below the surface, they were positively palatial. Most of the
Ambush
’s crew, with the exception of Coote and some of the senior ratings, were expected to hot bunk, time-sharing accommodation with one submariner sleeping in a bed while the other was on shift, then switching over. And while those on board the ship enjoyed a choice of restaurants and a selection of bars and cafes, as well as a crew canteen, the
Ambush
had to make do with two tiny and starkly furnished messes, one for junior ratings, the other for the seniors. In this new world though, the
Ambush
had the upper hand. Used to living frugally, their menu had hardly changed. Everyone on board the
Spirit of Arcadia
, Jake included, was having to get used to rations, which meant meagre portions three times a day.

Coote led Jake through the maze of tunnel-like passages to the communications control room in the heart of the submarine.

“Hey, Jake, good to see you, man!”

“Hi, Ralf, you too. How’s the signal looking?”

“See for yourself.” Lieutenant Ralf Cormack shifted sideways, letting Jake get a good view of one of his monitors. He was Lucya’s opposite number on the submarine, an ace hacker and communications expert. “We’re about twenty minutes out. The signal is very weak. I agree with Officer Levin’s analysis. It’s most likely a lifeboat or raft.”

Jake smiled. He couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at the mention of Lucya’s name. “How long before we can see it on that fancy photonics mast of yours?”

“Depends how big it is. Probably ten or fifteen minutes. Eagle-eyes is keeping a lookout.

Eagle-eyes was Communications Officer Jason Fletcher, renowned for his ability to make sense of even the grainiest and most out-of-focus images. He turned and grinned at Jake.

“They’ll see us first. This is a new experience for us; we’re more used to creeping up on people! Difficult to be discreet with a thirteen-deck cruise ship in tow.”

“Excellent. Well we have a little bit of time. Captain Noah, would you accompany me to my cabin? There’s a private matter we need to discuss.” Coote gestured for Jake to follow him, and he disappeared into a small room almost hidden between two banks of beige computers.

“Close the door behind you, would you? Thank you, old boy.” Coote sat down at a tiny desk. Jake took the only other chair, facing the captain.

“Is everything alright, Coote? You sound concerned?”

“Yes, yes, everything is good. Fine and dandy. But there is a serious matter we need to discuss. I mentioned to you that we have standing orders to return to our base in Scotland should an event of this nature occur. That is to say, an unforeseen event of the catastrophic kind. Those are not the only standing orders we have. The Admiralty have, I am told, planned for all sorts of eventualities, some rather more farfetched than others I imagine. In any case, only two people have access to these orders. They are contained in a safe, in this room. Let me show you.”

Behind Coote, covering one entire wall of the cabin, was a dark wood-panelled unit. The one time Jake had been in the room previously, he hadn’t really been in any state to have noticed. He had assumed it to be a wardrobe, but now saw that in addition to the two full-height doors, there were drawers and more, smaller doors. Coote turned a little key in one of these, and pulled it open to reveal the safe.

“In here, it is my belief that there is information about one or more secret military bases. Every submarine in the British navy is issued with the same documents, and to my knowledge, nobody has ever had reason to open them. In the event of all out nuclear war, total destruction of the country, that sort of thing, we are to open these plans and proceed to one of the bases.”

“So why are we heading for Scotland? Surely after the asteroid it’s time to open the plans? Those bases could be stocked with food, supplies, everything we need.”

“Maybe. Or maybe just enough to keep a submarine crew or two alive for long enough to wait out the fallout of a nuclear strike. Either way, our primary instruction is to proceed to the primary base in Scotland. Only if that is no longer possible, or has been destroyed, should we open these final orders.”

“Why are you telling me this, Coote?”

“Because like I told you, there are only two people who have access to this safe. Myself, and Ralf. As long as I continue to make entries in the captain’s log, this safe will only open when I enter my personal code on this keypad.” He pointed to the numbered buttons on the safe door. “If I fail to make any log entries for three consecutive days, the safe will then accept Ralf’s code.”

“Sounds like they thought of everything,” Jake said, still not seeing where this was going.

“Right. They do love to plan, those Admiralty boys. Comes from not getting out much, not seeing any real action. They have to dream about it instead. But I digress. Given that so many lives, perhaps even all remaining human lives, now depend directly on the survival of this submarine, it seems to me that only having two people with the ability to open this safe is rather conservative. Should anything happen to myself and Ralf, these plans, and the bases that I believe they offer access to, will remain forever unread.”

“Oh I don’t know, I reckon Martin and his team would find a way into that safe eventually.”

“Your confidence in your chief engineer is admirable, but in this instance, misplaced. This isn’t just a hunk of metal. Those boys didn’t plan all of this security for the enemy to be able to board us, kill us all, and open up our greatest secrets with a cutting torch. Any attempt to tamper with the safe will not only destroy its contents, it will also set off a chain reaction that will send our nuclear reactor into meltdown.”

“Really? Bloody hell.”

“Bloody hell indeed. They really did think of everything. This boat is an expensive piece of hardware that contains many military secrets. They don’t want it falling into enemy hands. All academic now of course; there isn’t any enemy any more. At least, not of the kind that the Admiralty imagined. So now I’m going to give you a code, Captain Noah. The future of our two vessels is intimately entwined. We need each other. It is only right that the captain of the
Spirit of Arcadia
has the means of opening this safe if we are not able to do so ourselves.”

“Can’t you just open it now? I mean, nobody’s going to know, are they?”

“Patience, old boy, patience. There is protocol to be followed. This safe is a last resort, and a symbol of hope. If we open it prematurely and find that the bases I believe it will lead us to have already been destroyed, then hope will be destroyed with them. As long as we have other options, Scotland being one example, the safe remains shut. Now, here, I need you to memorise this number. This is Ralf’s code. I am trusting that you will use it only in the most dire circumstances, and if Ralf himself is not able to do so.” He scribbled an eight-digit number on a scrap of paper and passed it across the table.

Jake looked at it for some time, making connections between pairs of digits and important numbers in his life. His birthday, his and Jane’s wedding anniversary, Lucya’s cabin number, part of the license plate of his car back home; he found patterns in the code and used them to build a story in his mind, a story he knew he could easily recall at any time.

“Okay, I’ve got it,” he said.

“Splendid!” Coote poured some water from a jug into a glass, and pushed the paper into the liquid. “Can’t burn anything in a submarine,” he explained. “Remember, this safe is tamper-proof. You get two tries at the code. Get it wrong twice, and…well, you’d better get yourself and your cruise ship as far away from the
Ambush
as possible.”

There was a knocking at the door, and without waiting for a response it opened and Ralf poked his head round. “We’ve got eyes on the source of the signal. I think you’re going to want to get a proper look at this from outside,” he said.

Three

“T
HAT
LOOKS
AN
awful lot like one of the
Spirit of Arcadia
’s life rafts,” Jake said as he scrutinised Jason’s monitor. He’d had first-hand experience of just such a raft, having being cast adrift in one for twenty-four hours. It wasn’t a memory he wanted to dwell on.

“It’s similar, but smaller. Hang on.” Jason worked away at his keyboard and a scale popped up on the screen. With a trackball he manipulated it until the crosshairs formed by the vertical and horizontal graded lines were aligned with the middle of the raft. “It’s about a third smaller than the one we found you in.”

“All our rafts are the same size, so it can’t be from the
Arcadia
. Is this image magnified? Can whoever is inside that thing see us yet?”

“Yes, the image is enhanced, but they absolutely should be able to see your ship from this distance. We’re quite close now.”

“So why isn’t anyone looking out?”

Jason, Ralf, and Coote all leaned in to the monitor to get a closer look.

“Jolly good question,” Coote said. “Jolly good question indeed. And here’s another question for you. How good is your new trainee helmsman? Because between us we have no tenders, and not even a lifeboat we can use to go and pick them up. We’re going to have to sail right over them.”

“Don’t you mean alongside?” Jake asked.

“Individually, yes. But as a pair, over the top will work. Trust me, you’ll see what I mean. Jason, get on the line with the bridge of the
Arcadia
and talk them in. Remember Bermuda, 2012?”

Jason nodded.

“Same thing, just with a bigger partner.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Captain Noah, will you accompany me as part of the welcoming party?”

Jake nodded, and the two captains left for the conning tower. They stopped off in the junior ratings mess on the way.

“Hi, Ewan, how are you?”

“Jake, good to see you again.”

“Ewan, I need you to find Eric, then meet us on the tower,” Coote said. “It looks like we might have more guests. Best make sure you’re both armed too; can’t be too careful.”

The young man nodded and immediately left to find his colleague.
 

“Do you think weapons are really necessary?” Jake asked. “I know this is a military vessel, but, you know, ‘no more enemies’ and all that?”

“Can’t be too careful. If they turn out to be friendly, then there’s no harm done eh?”

They continued to the conning tower in silence. Jake couldn’t help but feel a sense of excited anticipation at finding a sign of life, the first since seeing the
Ambush
rise majestically out of a Norwegian fjord. Who knew what stories the survivors would have to tell? How had they escaped death? What could they learn from them?

“After you then, sir!” Coote said jovially. They had reached the ladder that led to the hatch at the top of the tower.

Jake began to climb. At the top he knocked a couple of times. The hatch was kept closed while they were sailing, to keep spray out. Seconds after knocking, it popped open and Brian’s face peered inside. Jake mounted the final few rungs and clambered out onto the top of the fin with Coote following.