Erica was already in bed when Vardy knocked at the door to Jake and Lucya’s suite.

“Russell, come in. How are you?”

“I’m fine thank you, Jake. Good evening, Lucya.”

“Still enjoying running medical?”

“Hey, Grau’s still in charge.” Vardy sat down in an armchair by the picture window looking out to sea. Jake joined him, while Lucya disappeared into the bedroom, giving the two men some space.

“Technically, but we both know you’re running the show.” Jake rested one leg across the other and began fiddling absent-mindedly with his shoelaces.

“Only until he’s fit enough to take the team back under his wing. He’s doing remarkably well, actually. For his age, I’m impressed. He’s a real fighter.”

“That’s Grau alright.”

Vardy sat forward in the chair, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen, Jake, I thought I should let you know about a couple who just came to see me. It’s a delicate matter. Victoria and Dan Mitchell.”

“Okay?”

“Victoria is pregnant.”

Jake’s head snapped up. His eyes narrowed and he stared at the doctor. “Really? I don’t remember anyone declaring pregnancy on the census. I mean, we didn’t ask the question, not outright, but I would have thought if someone was expecting, they might have mentioned it.”

“Well that’s why the matter is delicate. Victoria didn’t complete the census.”

Jake leaned back in his chair. “Okay. And how did that happen?”

“Because she should never have been on the ship. You see, she’s not just pregnant. She’s very pregnant. She’s at thirty-six weeks. That’s about eight and a half months, Jake. She’s pretty much at term.”

“Gosh. Right. We don’t allow pregnant women in their third trimester to book a cruise. Pelagios had that as a condition. Non-negotiable. All the cruise lines had that as a condition. It’s a standard thing. We don’t want to be dealing with newborn babies in the middle of the ocean.”

“Exactly. Which is why she hid during the census. Apparently she was terrified of being thrown off, or punished in some way. She lied on her booking form, and because she’s very slight, and the baby is small, she could get away with it. For a two-week holiday, anyway. With baggy enough clothes I can well imagine that nobody noticed. Not two months ago. But now? Now it’s very obvious.”

“I see. Did she really think we would throw her off the ship? After the world ended?”

“Apparently. They’re a very young and naive couple. And to be fair, before you found the Ambush and the food at Faslane, things weren’t looking good. If there was going to be any kind of tier system for allocating rations, I can understand that Victoria would expect to find herself at the bottom, given she is on board under false pretences. She’s been hiding out ever since, hardly leaving her cabin. On the plus side, it meant they avoided the virus entirely.”

Jake stood up and walked to the window. He stared out at the sea. They had left the English Channel and were heading out into the Atlantic. Land was no longer visible with the naked eye. He knew that the land offered no sanctuary now, but it still gave him a feeling of security knowing it was within striking distance. Being out in the ocean brought home how cut off they were, how entirely dependent on their own resources. “You ever delivered a baby, Russell?”

“Actually, I have, although only the one. It was an unexpected event, on board an aircraft in fact. I was the only medically trained professional on board. A terribly messy business it was. Fortunately Carrie, one of our newer nurses, has previously worked as a midwife, so I have no major concerns when it comes to the birth. It would have been reassuring if we had ultrasound equipment and an incubator available. Alas that is not the case. The ship was never designed for such an eventuality.”

“If she missed the census, this Victoria, how has she been getting rations?”

Vardy stood and joined Jake at the window. “Her husband, Dan, has been giving her his. He’s been living off any scraps he can find in the restaurants, so he tells me. Young love, eh?”

“People leave leftovers?”

“Believe it or not, they do. Perhaps we should look at reducing the size of the rations!”

“I don’t want to bring about a mutiny. Not again. Where is this couple now?”

“They’ve gone back to their cabin. I gave Victoria a quick check-up and she is in good health. I’ve asked her to come back in the morning when Carrie will be on duty. She can check the health of the baby and advise the young lady on what she should or shouldn’t be doing, and get her better prepared for the happy event. I gave her a census form as well. She may be naive, but she seems to be a bright girl. We need to know if she has any skills or special knowledge that will be of use to the community. And apart from that, she should be getting her own rations. She’s promised to fill it in and pass it on to Silvia.”

“So…life goes on, eh?” Jake stared far out to sea. “Life goes on…”

Ten

JAKE SLEPT FITFULLY. The prospect of meeting other survivors made it hard to relax. His mind played out different scenarios, and half the time he didn’t know if he was dreaming or not. He was also plagued by images of Stieg, and repeatedly saw him drowning, crying out for help as he was swept away by a turbulent swell.

By 5:30 he was wide awake, soaked in sweat, and too on edge to consider sleeping again. He got out of bed as quietly as he could, trying not to disturb Lucya, but she opened her eyes and looked right at him as soon as his feet hit the floor.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Not really,” he said. “Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep either. Too much to think about.” She whispered the words, conscious of the sleeping child and the thin walls.

“It’s a big day. An important day. We could learn a lot.”

“Or be very disappointed.”

He shrugged. “I’m going to take the early shift. Do you mind sorting Erica out this morning?”

“Of course not. You should be on the bridge.”

Jake took a quick shower, rinsing away the sweat and the bad dreams. He put on his best uniform. With power and therefore an endless supply of clean desalinated water, the ship’s laundry was still running. Detergent was rationed though, and most clothing was washed without soap of any kind. Instead, tennis balls were added to the huge machines. He’d been told that the effect was the same, the balls beat the dirt and grease out of the clothing, but it didn’t feel the same to him. If he was meeting survivors, he wanted to look his best.

When he arrived on the bridge, it was brilliantly lit by a rare glimpse of the rising sun, shining through a break in the swirling grey cloud and streaming through the rear-facing windows. It was moments like this, with the light reflecting off the flat, calm ocean and sending tiny stars of sparkling light dancing across the ceiling, that he felt he could accept his job. He knew he was never a sailor, not really, but in these occasional instants of beauty and tranquillity, he could understand his father’s love of the sea.

“Good morning, Captain.” McNair pulled his feet off a console and stood to greet him.

“Morning. So?” He didn’t need to elaborate.

“Our friends maintained a steady speed throughout the night, and we are steadily catching them. Another three to three and a half hours and we’ll be with them.”

Jake walked to the windows at the front of the room. He could see nothing except a vast expanse of ocean disappearing over the horizon. “Still nothing on the radio?”

“No. Dead as a dodo. The Ambush has been trying to hail them on all common frequencies, and Officer Levin’s distress beacon broadcasts round the clock. Neither her automated radio scans nor those of the submarine are picking up anything at all.”