Sedulity (Book One) Impact (12 page)

The Captain turned to look at the Bridge Crew while he
waited. He saw looks of shocked horror on their faces and realized that he had
not previously shared Mr. Summers’ dire predictions with them. None of them had
been thinking beyond the survival of the ship since the disaster struck. Now
they heard their Captain yell on the phone about something that sounded like
the end of the world. He met their gaze with an air of calm confidence, even
though his own gut was twisted with apprehension. He also felt a twinge of
guilt that the root of his fear revolved around the unknown fate of his wife.

Chapter 10:

The President of the United States
had been playing the eleventh hole of a championship golf course when an aid
first mentioned the reports of an asteroid impact in the Central Pacific. The
President nodded and said to keep him informed, but continued to complete his
round of golf. His golf partners that day said he seemed annoyed to be
interrupted with an update on the fifteenth hole, and again on the seventeenth.
They overheard mention of tsunamis and earthquakes, but say the President was
intent on completing the game of golf in which he was one shot under par.
However, the President did agree that his helicopter, Marine One, should pick
him up next to the 18
^th
hole as soon as he finished his last putt.

It was more than hour after the
impact before the President was whisked back to the White House for a proper
briefing on the asteroid strike. By that time the islands of Kiribati were
already gone and the fate of millions was firmly written in the massive walls
of water marching across the Pacific. The White House did not issue any
warnings or comments until after the story broke on commercial news stations
and the internet.  In the days and weeks that followed, the President’s critics
would condemn the paralysis demonstrated by the American government during this
critical stage of the global catastrophe.

Lydia roused herself from depression and rose to look out the
little window again. The water level in that part of Broadway had dropped
significantly in the past few minutes. She estimated it was only about a foot
deep now. Either the water was still draining below, or the pumps were doing
their job. She hoped it was the latter. Bracing her legs against the back wall
of the narrow bypass route, she pushed as hard as she could against the water
pressure holding the door closed. The door grudgingly opened a crack and warm
seawater spilled into her previously dry haven. It took a good twenty seconds
for the water level in the bypass compartment to equalize. Then the door opened
smoothly and Lydia waded out onto Broadway. She paused to close the door and
secure it, so anyone following her route would be able to use the bypass from
the other side.

The equatorial seawater was warm and only came up to her calves.
It was almost refreshing and Lydia waded down the corridor with renewed hope
and purpose. She saw a minor whirlpool in an alcove and surmised that there
were stairs or some other opening that was draining the water, hopefully
towards the pumps. She avoided approaching that area and realized that if she
survived this, she would never look at a draining sink or bathtub, not to
mention a flushing toilet, quite the same way. That brought a slight smile to
her face. It broadened when she considered how she must look, especially with
all the extra makeup she had applied to play her role as Neptune’s Queen in the
Line Crossing ceremony. Her current appearance probably resembled a waterlogged
zombie or equally horrifying creature from the netherworld.

Another closed watertight door faced her a hundred feet down
Broadway, but she saw several branching corridors in between. Surely one of
them must lead to some stairs or a ladder going up to areas of the ship she was
more familiar with. She was about to start a systematic search of each possible
exit route when she notice a lighted sign protruding into the corridor. It was
a white square with a big red cross in the center.  Could that be a route to
the Medical Center?

Ignoring other options, Lydia hurried through the shallow
water to reach the sign. It was set above a door with an arrow pointing up and
the words “Med Center” stenciled across it. She was overjoyed, until she
noticed the water spilling out from where the door met the frame. It was not
quite a watertight door, but it was in the closed position and seemed to be
holding back a lot of water. It leaked from all the way around the door, even from
the upper jam, signifying that there was a lot of water behind it.  This door
had no window in it, but Lydia could picture several terrifying possibilities. 

If what lay beyond the door was a short stairway up to the
Medical Center, then there might not be too much water behind it. However, if
the Med Center itself was flooded, then the door might be holding back a whole
deck or more full of water. As a worst case scenario the ship might be sinking
and the whole ocean was behind that door. Lydia knew the last possibility was
extremely unlikely, considering the ship was not listing perceptibly and the
pressure of the ocean would bust down that door easily, but the irrational fear
remained. She stood there staring at the door indecisively for at least a
minute.

When Lydia came to a decision she retraced her steps to the
Emergency Bypass Route. Opening the door to the little passage released about
an inch of water, proving that this part of Broadway had drained a bit more,
even with more leaking down from the Med Center. That was good news. She left
the bypass door open. Then she waded back to the door marked Med Center. The
whole way back she played out in her mind what might, or might not, happen when
she opened that door. If it was only holding back a small amount of water in a
narrow crew stairwell, it would spread out harmlessly. On the other hand, if
there was a lot of water on the deck above, it would sweep her back down the
corridor. In that case she would swim for the open bypass route and try to
close the door behind her. The water pressure should actually help her close it
and automatically seal off the little chamber. Even if the bypass chamber
filled completely, she should be able to hold her breath long enough to secure
the first door and swim across to open the other door, spilling out on the far
side of the watertight door. That was her fallback plan. She waited another
full minute to gather her nerve.

****

Armando was helping Rachel navigate the landing on Deck 4
when three other people approached from the direction of the Martini Bar. Two
of them appeared to have gone through a rough time, particularly the woman in
the middle who was injured, while the third man was dressed like a cowboy and
looked unscathed. Behind them Armando could see the path of destruction wrought
by fire and water, including burned bodies piled against the bar. It was the
worst carnage he had witnessed since this began and he now understood how some
of the lifeboat muster stations had become death traps.

“Howdy,” the cowboy hailed them in a strangely casual manner.
“You folks heading down to the hospital?”

“Yes,” Armando replied. “Where are you coming from? Are there
others?”

“Yeah,” said the cowboy. “Plenty of folks are hiding out in
the theater. That’s where I was until I decided to find out what’s going on.
These two were in the casino with some other folks that need help too. Damn,
but that place is trashed! What about you? Where were you? Those are some nasty
burns you got there! You’re one of the crew aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m a bartender and I fought fires in the Sky Lounge.
Now I’m helping this woman to the Med Center.”

“Hot damn! You’re the guy who told me I couldn’t smoke my
cigar on the Resort Deck, ain’t you? Hell, son, it wasn’t me that started these
fires! That’s for sure. I bet it was a hell of a ride up there on top of the
ship. What did you see?”

Armando dismissed the man’s questions and comments, focusing
instead on guiding Rachel down the next flight of stairs. The other three
followed them. If the cowboy was offended by the snub, he didn’t show it.
Instead he continued to ramble on.

“I never seen nothing like this, no sir! Good’ol Hank Donner
from Houston, Texas has seen a lotta things and been places nobody in their
right mind would ever want to go, but I never seen nothing like this. An honest
to God asteroid fell from the dang sky, then all the flooding while the ship
tossed like a bucking bronco, and a damned fireball fell into the theater and
squashed a man like a bug! Horrible thing! That was when I decided I’d had
enough. Got the hell out of there, and fast, but pretty soon I seen that wasn’t
such a bad place to be. You know?  Most of the folks in that theater are just
fine, but out here it’s like a war zone. Last time I saw bodies burned this bad
was when an oil rig blew up in Angola. Never wanted to see or smell that again.
No sir!” 

Rachel started to sob uncontrollably and Armando said,
“Please, sir, can you stop talking like that? This woman can’t find her
husband, but we know he was badly burned. We’re hoping to find him at the Med
Center.”

“Oh, damn. Sorry ma’am,” Hank said quickly. “I’m sure you’ll
find him. Hell, I’ll help look for him after we drop you injured folks off down
there. What’s his name?”

“Brad,” she said between sobs. “Brad Brewer.”

“Damn fine name,” Hank said. “There’s a lot of burned fellas
up there by the casino. I’ll see if he’s one of them as soon as we get you
ladies to the doc.” 

Hearing that, Rachel struggled against Armando and clearly
wanted to go back up towards the casino in search of Brad. Armando tried to
calm her down and keep her traveling down the stairs, throwing Hank a dirty look
which seemed to shut him up for the time being. The group made it to the Deck 3
lobby and Armando pulled Rachel aside, motioning the others to take the lead.
He hoped that putting Hank in front of them would reduce his propensity to
direct thoughtless comments their way. Hank appeared oblivious as he guided the
other couple past them and continued down the stairs.

“Don’t let him upset you, Rachel. I will go back up to look
for your husband myself,” said Armando.

“No,” she replied shakily. “Your burns are even worse than
mine. You need to see a doctor too.”

“Not until the passengers are cared for,” Armando said. “My
job is to assist the guests, starting with you. Let’s get you down there so I
can go look for your husband. And he might still be waiting for you there.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said as they staggered down the next
flight of stairs. They were almost to Deck 2 when Armando heard the voices of
two men entering the stairs above them. He didn’t bother to look up, focusing
all his energy on getting Rachel to the Med Center.

****

“I hope there are more people like Professor Farnsworth and
his wife who rode this out safely in their staterooms,” Kevin said.

“Perhaps in some of the inside cabins and outside ones with portholes
on the lower decks, like theirs,” Petty Officer Perkins replied as they walked
down the Deck 3 corridor. “But you saw what happened to your balcony stateroom.
I wouldn’t have wanted to be in there when the blast wave hit, or the flooding
for that matter. Unfortunately, the majority of staterooms and all of the
suites on the
Sedulity
have balconies with big sliding glass doors.
They’re great for scenic cruises, but much more vulnerable to the elements than
traditional cabins on older ships.”

“True,” Kevin agreed. “I’m glad Amanda was able to get Emily
out of our stateroom in time. I just don’t understand why she didn’t wait for
me in the lobby on Deck 10.”

“There are a hundred good reasons for them to have gone
elsewhere,” Perkins tried to reassure him. “It must have been unnerving to ride
out the waves alone there. They might have gone with other passengers, or
followed the directions of the crew or announcements by the Captain. If they
went for medical attention, we should find them below.” That was the plan, but
it didn’t do much to reassure Kevin. He hoped they were not in the ship’s
hospital, but couldn’t ignore the possibility that they were.

They reached the stairs next to the main lobby of the atrium
and Kevin paused to survey the area. He remembered coming through this room
when he first boarded the
Sedulity
and being impressed by the grandeur
of the open space. It was still impressive, but in a different way. Most of the
atrium levels looked relatively intact, but the open public decks were in a
shambles. Water still fell in dwindling rivulets from the upper decks and
splattered on the marble flooring of the Grand Lobby where piles of furniture
had been tossed by previous flooding and upheavals. Smoke wafted into the
atrium from numerous decks and rose to form a cloud that obscured what remained
of the glass ceiling far above. The sound of falling water couldn’t drown out
the insistent moans, shouts and cries of unseen survivors. Kevin took scant
solace in not recognizing any of the voices. As the two men entered the
stairway Kevin spotted several small groups of injured people preceding them
down towards the Med Center.

“What were you and that professor talking about that made him
so sad?” Perkins asked.

“So much pain and suffering,” Kevin commented. “I suppose
it’s a miracle any of us are still alive, and I’ll be blessed if my family are
among the survivors, but I’m afraid this is only the beginning of the real
disaster.”

“What do you mean?” Perkins asked.

“This is just one ship tossed on an ocean that is about to
smash every coastline with the same waves we just survived,” Kevin said. “Unfortunately,
the cities and people on those shores won’t be able to ride over the waves like
we did.”

“Oh crap!” Perkins blurted. “Does the Captain know about
this?”

“Yes, we discussed it before I left the Bridge. That’s why
he’s focused on getting communications restored now. I don’t know how much good
it will do, but I hope a warning will give some people enough time to reach
high ground, or go far inland. I guess what I’m saying is that as bad this
seems for us right now, it’s going to be much worse for millions of others.”