“Yeah, okay, good plan. Did none of the lifeboat winch motors survive?”

“No, the fires destroyed them all pretty much. We’re going to remove them and cannibalise them though. If we’re lucky we might assemble one or two working ones from the parts.”

“No chance of fixing the other tender I suppose?” Jake asked hopefully.

Martin simply rolled his eyes. “Right, let’s see if this thing is up to the job. I’ve pulled the power from the original winch motor and added an override switch. That means these guys will be able to winch up and down from here, no need to use the controls on the bridge.” He waved the fishermen over and explained the workings of his hastily constructed system. Stieg translated for his colleagues, who spoke very little English.

The men took up their positions again, with Stieg on the winch controls. Messages and instructions were shouted between them, and with a glance at Martin to check he was about to press the right button, the Swede started the motor.

It ran smoothly for about twenty seconds, and Jake could see the steel cables dragging the net up from the depths of the ocean. Then the top of the net became visible. As it broke through the surface, the motor became noisier, labouring under the extra weight as the net was less and less supported by the sea.

“Look!” Martin was shouting and pointing excitedly. “Fish! There are fish in the net! It worked, I can’t believe it, there are fish! Oh yes, we’re going to eat fresh fish. With chips! And ketchup!”

The trawler men wore huge grins at the sight of the catch, but their work wasn’t done and they didn’t let the initial success distract them from their job. With a pair of hooks on the end of long rods, they helped guide the cables and the netting away from the hull, and keep it from tangling in the other lifeboat winches.

The motor was making quite an unpleasant sound as it tugged and struggled to pull up the weight of the haul. Martin tore himself away from the sight of his dream dinner caught in the net, and cast an eye over the electrical system. He pulled a meter out of his pocket and took some readings. Satisfied that everything was within limits, he gave a thumbs up to Stieg.

People had started to come out onto the deck, interested to see what the activity was. Jake moved them back, away from the work.

“This area is dangerous. Please return inside, you will be safer in there,” he shouted over the sound of the electric motor as it squealed and groaned with effort. The small crowd was reluctant to leave; they had spotted the net and had a good idea what was going on, but Jake was insistent. If the steel cables snapped, they could whip around with enough force to decapitate someone, he explained. His reasoning was sound, and convinced those who wanted to stay and watch that they really were better off inside. When he was sure he’d marshalled the last of them through the door, he grabbed the phone stationed there and called the bridge.

“Dave? Jake. Listen, I need you to get Claude on the phone and tell him to send some of his men outside, starboard side. Tell them to bring the crates they prepared. All of the crates!”

By the time he got back to the winch, the net was level with the deck, and the men were wrestling with it, trying to get it on board. They were used to working with proper fishing boats designed for the job. The high steel handrail around the Spirit of Arcadia might have made it safe for passengers to enjoy a stroll and take in the sea air, but it was proving a major headache for landing the catch.

“Martin, can you cut out an opening for these guys before the next go? Maybe some kind of swing door so that the area stays secure?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, we’ll work something out.” He was transfixed by the hundreds of wriggling, squirming fish that were packed into the bottom of the net. “Might have to sort out some kind of transport for getting this all through to the kitchens too, if this is going to be a regular thing. Look at it! There’s life in the sea, Jake!”

As he spoke, the net came crashing over the handrail, spilling its contents across the deck. Hundreds and hundreds of fish poured out the top, herring and mackerel cascading over themselves, slipping and sliding in a river of silver and grey until they piled up against the wall. The trawler men were whooping and cheering, overjoyed with the incredible success. One of them even did a little dance. Jake couldn’t help but get caught up in the moment, and cheered along with his chief engineer.

Only Stieg remained quiet. He didn’t cheer, or shout. His face was stony and serious. His eyes were fixed on the bottom of the net. Jake, seeing something was wrong, followed his gaze.

There, tangled in the colourful woven loom of string, was a human body. It looked like that of a man, but it was hard to tell for sure, because it had no head.

Six

“HOW IS THE patient, Kiera?”

Doctor Lister limped into the treatment room. His leg had, for the most part, healed since being burnt by toxic ash, but there was permanent damage to the muscle. He knew it would never fully recover.

“Still unconscious. He started to come round. He was delirious, trying to talk, but he made no sense. Here, look at this.” Kiera held out a clump of brown curly hair in her hand. “I was sponging him down, trying to get his temperature down, and his hair just came away like that.”

“This is a most intriguing case. I have begun the analysis of his blood, and have ruled out most common viral infections. It is starting to look more like a tropical disease of sorts, but that does not make any sense in the Arctic Circle.”

“Could he have picked it up before we got here? We don’t know when he came aboard. He could have been here since we were in the Caribbean?”

“Possibly. A more worrying prospect is that he somehow picked this up from a crew member who became infected in the Caribbean. However, we must remain calm and rational. We will know more when the computer has run more tests on the sample. It is rather unfortunate that we do not have access to Surgeon Lieutenant Vardy’s equipment on the Ambush. He has an excellent little compact laboratory that would speed up the process.”

“The daughter’s still outside, Doctor. It’s getting late, and Barry has already had to go. He found her some games and puzzles, but she needs to have some dinner and find somewhere to sleep.”

“What do you suggest?”

“David will be on duty in half an hour. I’d like to take care of Erica if that’s okay? At least take her to the restaurant and then maybe she can bunk down with me?”

“Yes, of course. I will remain here until David arrives. Keep an eye on her though; we still do not know if we are dealing with something contagious. If she starts to show any symptoms, bring her back here immediately. And keep her out of the restaurant, just in case. I will call Claude and get him to send rations directly to your cabin.”

• • •

It took some time to convince Erica to leave the medical centre; she wanted to stay close to her father. Kiera was finally able to persuade her with the promise of some chocolate. It would mean giving up her personal stash, a stash that could never be replenished, but if it meant keeping the girl safe then it was worth it.

On the way out they passed Martin and another man she didn’t know. A tall blond man with piercing blue eyes. They were pushing a wheelchair. The very short person sitting in it was entirely covered in thick sheets, something that didn’t escape Erica’s attention.

“Is that a dead person?” she asked, tugging at Kiera’s hand and pointing at the passing chair.

“No, don’t be silly, it’s probably just somebody who’s very cold.”