They approached the harpoon launcher cautiously, as if a misstep or too much noise would cause it to go off on its own. Next to the main assembly, in a frame bolted to the side of the hull, were an array of projectiles. Two of them carried warnings: Caution: Explosive.
“What’s a research ship doing with exploding harpoons?” Daniel asked.
“It was a fishing vessel before. I suppose they chose to keep this. It’s probably been used for whaling in the past.”
“Think it still works?”
“We’ll find out. Ah, here are the others.”
The two sailors appeared, carrying between them the white capsule that housed an inflatable life raft. It resembled an enormous pill, and was designed to split open when it hit the water, the raft inflating automatically, filled by a compressed-air cylinder.
“Weren’t many of these left,” one of the men commented. “Looks like someone’s nicked a few already. I’m guessing those would be the ones tied up to the side of the Arcadia?”
Jake nodded. “Now, your mission, chaps, is to get that thing hooked up to this in such a way that we can fire it out to sea.” He patted the top of the harpoon launcher. The men took a step back.
“You’re not serious?”
“I’m very serious. And may I remind you that time is very much of the essence.”
The sailors studied the harpoon launcher and the range of projectiles stored next to it. They talked among themselves, working out a way of fulfilling the bizarre request.
“Daniel, the radios?”
“Here.” He pulled out three small portable radio transceivers and held them out.
“Are any of those waterproof?”
“They all are.”
“Delayed transmission function?”
“Yep, these two can do that.”
“Perfect.” Jake smiled. He took both of the radios in hand, looked them over, and pocketed one. “We need a way of attaching this to the raft capsule.”
“I’m on it.” The sailor took off, heading back towards the wheelhouse section of the ship where he disappeared inside.
Jake turned back to the others and watched. They had removed the harpoon from the launcher and were now piercing the capsule with the heads of two smaller harpoons.
“Captain Noah, for this to work we’re going to have to insert these quite deep into the capsule. They will certainly pierce the fabric of the raft inside. It may not float for long.”
Jake waved a hand. “It doesn’t need to. Do what you have to.”
They looked sceptical, but they didn’t question. Pushing hard, they buried the spears until almost half their considerable length had disappeared into the white plastic. Satisfied with their efforts, they picked up the strange construction and inserted the exposed section of the harpoons into the launcher, squeezing them together so that they both fit in the small tube. The raft wobbled precariously, but it held.
“How far do you think it will go?” Jake asked.
“Never used one of these. The raft don’t weigh much, just bulky is all. No way of telling though.”
“No,” Jake said thoughtfully. “No, you’re right. Probably best you get yourselves to the back of the ship. On your way, collect up the other two and Bodil. Stand by to launch that lifeboat if necessary.”
“Captain, what are you planning?”
“If we can’t find that submarine, then we’re going to make it come to us. Now, go, quickly!”
The men nodded, and scarpered. They passed Daniel coming the other way.
“Found some duct tape. Every engine room has some!”
“Perfect.” Jake took the tape and unrolled a length. He placed the radio he was still holding onto the top of the raft capsule, and stuck it down in such a way that the controls were accessible. With both hands now free, he peeled off more of the tape and wound a full length all around the capsule. Finally, he pulled on the radio to check it was secure.
“Daniel, thank you.” He stuck out a hand. Daniel shook it uncertainly. “You’ve been a great help and it’s been an honour. Now, please get to the stern with the others. If need be, launch the lifeboat and get out of here. Don’t wait for me.”
“How will I know if we have to launch the boat?”
“You’ll know.”
Daniel patted Jake on the shoulder. “Good luck, man. Whatever it is you’re planning.” With that, he was gone.
Alone at last, Jake turned back to the strange raft assembly. He switched on the radio and set the frequency from memory. He found the delayed transmission function, and set it to fifteen seconds, the highest it could go. He silently thanked Lucya, his chief radio officer and his beloved partner, for her insistence on keeping all bridge officers up to date on the workings of the radio equipment.
He checked his watch. Six minutes to the deadline. There was no more time, but he had to choose his words carefully. He bent over the little radio, pressed in the transmit button, and began to speak.
• • •
Dan Mitchell was getting desperate. He’d arrived in the medical centre to find a sign on the door that said “Back soon. In case of emergency, please try cabin 845.” How soon, he’d wondered? He banged on the door anyway, but nobody came. So he had gone back to the lift, back up to deck eight, and found cabin 845.
That room had had a sign on the door too. “Quarantine: Strictly No Admittance.” And again, he’d tried banging on the door anyway. This time someone had come. They’d shouted out the same message as the sign outside; they weren’t letting anyone in.
“My wife is having a baby!” he had cried.
There had been a pause, then: “Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?”
“No! Really. Surely you must know about this if you’re medical?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help. This is a quarantine area. Nobody in or out without permission from Doctor Vardy.”
“Where is Doctor Vardy?”
“Probably in the medical centre.”
“I’ve just come from there.”
Another pause. He’d thought he heard voices, a discussion behind the door. Then: “He might be on deck two. By the classroom.”
“Thanks.”
Deck two wasn’t an area Dan had frequented. There had been no conferences on the cruise, he didn’t gamble and so had not been to the casino, and since the asteroid he had had no call to visit the classrooms. So he wasn’t sure what to expect when he had gone down there, but it certainly wasn’t being met by an armed guard.
“I need to see Doctor Vardy.”
“Nobody goes in or out. Sorry.”
“But my wife is having a baby!”
“Try medical.”
“I have. There’s nobody there!”
“Sorry, mate. Can’t help you then.”
“But…she’s having a baby!”
“You said. P’raps you should be with her?”
“But we need a doctor, or a midwife. Is Carrie down here?”
The man had not answered the question, but Dan had been sure the answer had to be yes. “We have an ongoing situation here, mate. Nobody goes in or out. I’m sorry I can’t help. I must ask you to leave.”
Dan had done as he was told. He thought about Vicky. She would have argued, forced her way through, armed guard or no armed guard. But he wasn’t Vicky, he was Dan. The shy one, the weak one, the one who avoided conflict at all costs.
After deck two he had tried the bridge, but was told to get lost. He’d tried to find someone from the committee, but none could be found. He’d even gone to the security office in the hope that a security escort could find Vardy, or indeed anyone medically trained to help, but that office was locked up and empty.
Now, after exhausting all ideas, he decided to try the medical centre one more time. Dan never ran, but he walked very fast down the corridor of deck five. Faster than he remembered ever having walked before.
The sign was still hung on the door.
Back Soon
He tapped politely, then when there was no reply, he banged harder. “How long is soon? Is nobody there? My wife is having a baby!”
Nobody answered.