Sedulity 2: Aftershock (Sedulity Saga) (10 page)

“Relax,” Amanda told the injured stranger. “Everything will
be fine.” She tried to sound confident, but it reminded her of telling Emily
the same thing last night while wondering if it was a lie.
 

Lydia steadied an IV stand that had almost tipped over and
gave a few of her own words of comfort to that patient. Another, sharper,
shudder ran through the ship and they heard more things fall over. Then a door
burst open and a young woman, covered in bandages, leaned out and said, “Please
help. He’s fallen off the bed!”

Lydia and Amanda rushed into the small treatment room,
brushing by the bandaged woman, and found a man covered with even more bandages
lying on the floor next to the narrow examination table moaning incoherently. They
rushed to help him, turning him gently from his side onto his back, and Amanda
bent down to keep his head from bouncing on the hard floor. His eyes opened in
confusion and then recognition.

“Mrs. Summers?” Armando mumbled. “You should be up on the bridge.”
He looked beyond her. “You too, Mrs. Krystos. Your husbands must be worried
about you.”

“Armando?” Mandy asked in surprise. “Are you alright?”
 
Could this really be the man who had taken
her and Emily to safety on the bridge, before going back to help other
passengers? He smiled weakly.

“He’s been under sedation,” said the young woman who had
opened the door. “The doctor said he should sleep for a few more hours. I guess
the fall woke him.”

“I imagine it would,” Lydia said. She also remembered the
Filipino bartender who had been present when she was rescued, as well as from
many previous and more pleasant encounters aboard the
Sedulity.
He had been a valued member of the crew even before his
heroics following the asteroid strike. “Let’s see if we can get him back up
into bed.”

“No…no, Mrs. Krystos,” Armando said in a clearer voice. “I
can get up by myself now. There must be others who need help more than I do.”

“Nonsense,” Lydia said. “Help me lift him, Mandy.” Together
they got him off the floor and tried to move him back onto the makeshift bed,
actually a narrow examining table where he had been resting. He would have none
of it.

“No, please, ladies,” Armando said, standing up. “I am awake
now.” He looked down and saw that he was wearing a hospital gown. Flushing with
embarrassment, he said, “I must get some clothes and get back to work.”

“Don’t be silly,” Lydia said before the others could do more
than open their mouths in shock. “You’ll do nothing of the kind, Armando. You
need to rest and heal.”

“Perhaps,” Armando said, obviously feeling more than a little
pain. “I don’t need to take a bed in the hospital though. There must be many
passengers in worse shape than me. I will go back to my bunk.” Looking around
again he spotted the bandaged woman standing by the door. “Mrs. Brewer?”

“Yes, Armando,” Rachel said, choking at the use of her
married name. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up so I could thank you for
taking care of me last night, and going back up to look for Brad.”

“It was my duty,” Armando said quickly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t
find your husband. Has there been any word?” Rachel shook her head sadly.

“Oh dear,” Lydia said, turning to look at Rachel for the
first time. “There is a table up by the dining room where passengers separated
from friends and family are registering. It’s still possible your husband will
be found.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said, though her voice lacked hope.

 
“They’re serving
breakfast up there too,” Lydia added.

The mention of food nearly made Amanda seasick, but also drew
her attention to the fact that the ship had assumed a more normal feel. “We’re
not rocking around as much now,” she noted.

“Yes,” Lydia said. “We must be on the new course. Hopefully
it will get us out of this bad weather. Now, Armando,” she looked to the
injured bartender with compassion. “You need to take it easy, but I suppose you
can go to your cabin, if the doctor agrees to release you.” Turning back to
Rachel she continued, “If you feel up to it, I think you should go up and
register your husband as missing, then get some food and rest.
 
Mandy, would you escort this young woman up
to the dining room, please? I can see that you could probably use some fresh
air too. I’ll wait to see the doctor with Armando, then spend some time looking
in on the other patients.”

“Yes, Mrs. Krystos,” Amanda agreed readily. Being in the medical
center was indeed making her feel ill. Turning to Rachel she said, “Shall we?” Rachel
nodded without speaking, then walked up to Armando and placed her bandaged hand
gently in his as a tender sign of gratitude. He nodded bashfully before she
turned to follow Amanda out.

*****

Hank Donner ushered Romy and Fred to a table near the center
of the dining room. He could feel the swells building and knew from experience
that they would feel less of the roll in the center of the ship than if they sat
near the windows. He had also lost some trust in those windows, after seeing so
many implode the night before. He even spotted spider-web cracks in some of the
remaining windows around dining room, as well as large tarps covering several
missing windows, all of which contributed to his decision on where to sit.

The three of them sat at a table for four and Hank was
curious to see what type of service they would receive. He noticed most of the
people in the room lining up at a modest buffet, but decided to relax for a few
minutes and let the line dwindle. This turned out to be a good decision when
the announcement of a course change was made moments later.

“I was wondering when they would turn the ship,” Hank said to
his companions. “You feel how the back of the ship is rising with the waves
instead of the font?” They nodded. “That means the storm is hitting us from
behind and we’re not moving very fast. They put the restaurants of most ships
near the stern because the bow usually goes up and down more in rough seas.”
Hank felt increasing vibrations through the decks below his feet, interpreting
it correctly as increased power to the engines.

“Better hang on, folks,” Hank said casually. “Here we go
again.” He smiled when their faces turned white with apprehension. “Ah, relax,
I don’t think it will be anything like last night.” As he finished his sentence
the ship rolled at least a dozen degrees to port. Passengers in the buffet line
screamed. Some dropped their plates to steady themselves on the buffet. A few
lost their balance and toppled to the floor. Hank smiled, thinking they should
have taken the warning announcement more seriously.
 

“What’s happening?” Fred asked in that whimper of his.

“We’re turning into the storm,” Hank replied calmly, though even
his cocky confidence was tested when gale force winds blasted against the tarps
covering several broken windows on the starboard side. The plastic billowed
inwards and the corner of one came loose, allowing wind and sheeting rain to
pour into the dining room. Passengers who had chosen to sit in that section
were scrambling away from what had suddenly become another terrifying event. Hank
felt sorry for those who had no idea what to expect next.

“Holy crap!” Fred exclaimed. “What’s the captain thinking?
Why’s he turning like this?”

“He’s decided it’s time to get the hell out of here,” Hank
replied curtly. “And I tend to agree with him.” The ship continued to roll side
to side for close to a minute while the
Sedulity
came about. Then the hammering wind and waves abated as the bow of the ship
took the brunt of the weather and Hank could feel the ship surge forward into
the swells. He thanked his lucky stars that they weren’t adrift in this storm.

Several crewmen ran to secure the flapping tarp and things
calmed down again in the dining room. Hank took a moment to evaluate his new
roommates. Romy looked tense, but otherwise in control of herself. Fred, on the
other hand, was visibly shaking and casting furtive glances around the room. He
caught Hank looking at him and consciously clasped his hands together on the
table in front of him, staring back at Hank in what was probably intended to be
a defiant posture, but causing Hank to break into a grin.

“It looks like we’ll be spending some time together,” Hank
said. “So let’s get to know each other. You two are from California?”

“Yes,” Romy replied. “Santa Barbara. I’m in public relations,
and Fred is an executive producer of Hollywood movies. What about you?”

“Hank Donner from Houston, Texas, at your service, Ma’am,” he
said, tipping his cowboy hat. “I’m an oilman, and I play a mean hand of poker.
Just warning you.”

“I heard that crewman say you were traveling alone?” she said
with obvious curiosity. It was uncommon to encounter single passengers on
cruises like this one.

“Yeah,” Hank confirmed. “I’m a widower and this was actually
a business trip for me. I’ve got some cargo in the hold of this ship intended
for a job in the Tasmanian Sea. It sounded like more fun, as well as faster, to
take it down there aboard the
Sedulity
than on a tramp freighter. And it’s looking like an even better choice now. I
doubt many container ships survived what we went through last night.”

Romy nodded, but Fred was more nosey. “What kind of cargo?”
he asked. Hank considered telling him it was none of his business, but decided
to keep things civil for the moment. He’d set Fred straight privately, if his
attitude didn’t adjust itself soon.

“A submarine,” Hanks said casually, watching their eyes
widen. “I call it the
Armadillo.
”

“A real submarine?” Romy asked.

“Real enough to dive down to the bottom of all but the
deepest trenches in the ocean,” Hank said proudly.

“How many people can it carry?” Fred asked, causing Hank to
wonder if Fred was thinking of it as some kind of lifeboat in case the
Sedulity
sank.

“None,” Hank chuckled. “The
Armadillo
is an unmanned submersible drone used for deep sea oil
exploration, pipeline repairs, wellhead installation, and critical recovery
missions. I’ve used it off the coast of Angola, all over the Gulf of Mexico,
even the North Sea. This was going to be the first time I used it
down under
. They found some promising
oil deposits in the Tasmanian Sea and I was supposed to help them develop a
field. I’m sure this damned asteroid has screwed that plan all to hell.”

“That sounds like an awesome job,” Romy said. “I wouldn’t
want to go down inside a submarine, but it sounds exciting to send a robot to
the bottom of the sea. Does it have cameras to let you see what’s down there?”

“It sure does,” Hank nodded. “Big floodlights too. They
attract all sorts of sea monsters. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve
seen down there.”

“Sea monsters!” Fred scoffed. “There’s no such thing.”

“Don’t be so sure, partner,” Hank smiled. “You would’ve said
the same thing about a wave that could stand this ship on end, or a downpour of
boiling rain, until last night. But when you see a forty foot sea serpent with
a head like a horse and a mouth like Dracula on steroids, you’d probably call
it a monster too. I sent that video to a scientist at Scripps. He said it was
an
unknown
species. I call it a
monster. And Romy’s right. I’m much happier seeing stuff like that from the control
console aboard a ship, than being two miles underwater with it.”

Fred looked suitably humbled and held his tongue. Romy
smiled. Hank smiled back and asked, “So, Fred, what movies have you produced?
Anything I might have seen?”

Fred’s face turned ashen, but Romy said, “Did you see
Sand Shark,
or
Killer Wave
on cable? Fred produced both of them.”
 

Hank couldn’t help but laugh out loud. To think that this
wimp had produced low budget horror and disaster videos brought new heights of
irony to the current situation. Hank laughed loud and hard, drawing attention
from others in the room. The fact that Fred’s face turned from ash to red only
increased Hank’s amusement. Still sputtering, he said, “Oh, yeah, I saw them. You
produced those? Were they supposed to be comedies?”

“There were elements of comic relief,” Fred said defensively.

“So, how do you think the special effects in
Killer Wave
compare to the real waves
wiping out the world right now?” Hank asked with a grimace. There was no need
for an answer to that one. What they had witnessed on TV news overnight had put
even the biggest budget disaster movies to shame. Hank shook his head and said,
“Sorry, I shouldn’t joke about it. I guess we should all be thankful to be
alive today. It looks like a whole bunch of other folks aren’t so lucky.”

“It’s horrible,” Romy said. “And the waves haven’t even
reached Santa Barbara yet. Do think it will be as bad some of the other places
we’ve seen get hit?” She was clearly terrified and Hank didn’t blame her. There
wasn’t much he could say to comfort her either.

“I won’t kid you,” Hank said. “It’ll be bad. But Santa
Barbara has a couple things going for it. I did some repairs to an oil rig off
that coast a few years back, so I know the area. You’ve got the Channel Islands
out there. They should block a good portion of the waves. And you have mountains
right behind the city. Even after the earthquakes there should be time for a
lot of the population to get to the top of them, even if they have to hike up
there. The mountains are a couple thousand feet high, so anyone who climbs them
should survive. I wouldn’t bet on many of the homes and buildings below making
it through the day though.”