“I don’t understand, it’s not responding to the manual controls.”

The noise continued to grow louder, the men were shouting to make themselves heard. It was becoming intolerable, to the point that they wouldn’t be able to remain in the engine room much longer without risking permanent hearing damage. Jake spotted a glass cabinet on the wall. Inside were safely helmets, goggles, and ear protectors. He took out two sets of the bright red headgear and passed one to the mechanic. Martin gave him a sideways look that suggested health and safety was for other people, but as the sound ratcheted up another notch he grabbed the protectors and snapped them over his head. He tried a few more combinations of buttons, shrugged his shoulders, and walked back towards the huge motor. The vibrations had become so intense, the huge power plant was now visibly shaking.

Martin held out his forefinger and traced a line in the air. Jake watched, following his eye line until it alighted on a copper pipe painted white. The pipe entered the underbelly of the engine, and Martin was tracing it backwards. It ran up the side of a supporting metal post, along the low ceiling, and then along the wall. Just before it disappeared through a bulkhead it made a U shaped detour, at the bottom of which was a bright red lever. A small padlock prevented the lever from being operated. A glass box next to the lever contained a key. Martin walked over to the box, picked up the tiny hammer attached to it with a chain, and smashed the glass. He removed the key, unlocked the padlock, threaded the loop of metal out of the catch, and pulled the lever closed. At first nothing happened. Then, slowly, the whining noise started to drop in pitch. The vibrations of the engine reduced, becoming more of a rattle, before finally abating altogether. The beast of a motor was dying.

“Emergency fuel cut-off,” Martin said, cocking his thumb at the lever.

“Aren’t you supposed to know where that is without having to look?” Jake asked.

“Sorry Officer,” Martin emphasised the second word a bit too much for Jake’s liking. “We would have covered it when we took delivery of this boat. Never had cause to use it since then, so yeah, I probably should know where it is, but I can’t remember everything I did five years ago.”

“You think the dust cloud blocked the exhaust?”

“Could be, that would explain the noise. If enough dust blew down the funnel it could have caused this.”

“There’s an easy way to unblock it, right?” Jake feared he already knew the answer.

“Oh yeah, sure. Someone has to climb down the funnel and clear out the gunk. You volunteering?”

“Engineering isn’t my strong point, as well you know. I think I’ll leave it to a professional,” Jake said.

“Well whoever does it, they’re going to have to do it soon. Without that motor turning, this boat’s got now power, and that means no heat, light, fresh water, or sanitation.”

“Aren’t there batteries or something?”

“For emergency systems only. We can bring the bridge online if we need to. The emergency PA system too, as well as some emergency lighting in some areas.”

“Ok, get the PA working, but leave everything else off for now. We don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck without power, so we should conserve what we can.” Jake turned to leave.

“So you’re in charge now, huh?” Martin called after him.

Jake turned and looked at him.

“Captain Ibsen is in charge, I’m just trying to offer my advice,” he said.

“Your advice is noted, First Officer Noah,” Martin said, before turning back to his console and fiddling with more buttons.`

Five

THE DUST CLOUD had completely vanished. The sky remained grey, the sun partially blocked by more dust higher in the atmosphere. In the half light, Lucya made her way to the exterior of deck ten. Most of the lifeboats were tethered on this deck, and they were still burning furiously. One fire had already spread and the wooden floor of the deck itself was burning. A number of people, Lucya couldn’t see if they were passengers or crew, were already tackling that blaze with fire extinguishers. She sprinted to the first lifeboat, found the manual release handle, and tried to crank it. The instant she touched it she felt the skin on her hand melt. She pulled her hand away instinctively, leaving skin on the hot metal, charred and blackened. She screamed in pain, looked round for some way of easing the burning, but saw only more flames, hot metal, and burning bodies. Swallowing hard, she turned back to the crank. She pulled off her jacket, wrapped it around the handle, and pulled it round towards her. To her relief, the lifeboat gave a jolt and started to descend towards the sea. It took all of her effort, but after several minutes winding, the small craft hit the water with a hiss and a fizz. One last tug on the handle and the steel cables were released. The lifeboat floated free, away from the Spirit of Arcadia.

“One down,” Lucya said to herself, “fifteen more to go”.

• • • • •

Jake returned to the bridge, taking the more conventional route via the stairs. This place was home to him, it was where he spent most of his working day as first officer. He’d always thought it a soulless place. He was no stranger to ships and boats, having a captain as a father. But this bridge had none of the character or the romance of older vessels. There was no great wooden wheel, no impressive high perched captain’s chair, no beautiful polished brass instruments. This bridge looked more like some mix between a call centre and the control room of a power station. It was all clean lines and sleek grey control panels with embedded screens. Two rows of four consoles each dominated the space. They filled almost the full forty metre width of the room. The ship was was largely automated, so the consoles weren’t designed to be manned by more than a handful of people. This lack of human presence only heightened the lifelessness of the place.

One concession to traditional seafaring ways was the map table towards the rear. A huge brushed steel surface under which a set of drawers held charts of the world’s seas. It was never used of course, at least not for its intended function. GPS ruled the waves now. But every ship had to carry a set of maps as a backup. The map table of the Spirit of Arcadia was sometimes commandeered for the odd game of ping-pong on dull days, and this morning a game of Monopoly had been in progress upon it. Now the board was on the floor, laying among the thousands of tiny pieces of shattered glass from the rear windows, and a dusting of the grey ash that had caused the damage. Standing at the front of the bridge, surveying the carnage below, was Staff Captain Johnny Hollen, the second in command. He turned to see who had entered behind him.

“Jake. Good work on that announcement.”

“Thanks. Where is everyone? I thought the crew would come back here. Where’s Lucya? She was headed for the bridge last time I saw her,” Jake looked anxious.

“Place was deserted when I got here a few minutes ago. Have you seen anyone else? I think we should gather the senior crew members together.”

“Apart from Lucya, only chief engineer Oakley down in the engine room. He had to kill the generator, we’re without power for I don’t know how long.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Any suggestions on how we find the rest of the senior officers? No power, no comms.”

“The emergency PA system should be working, Oakley said it runs off a battery backup.”

Hollen walked over to a console, picked up a handset that looked more like it belonged on an telephone. He flicked a button, and spoke quietly.

“All senior officers are to report to the bridge immediately. I repeat, all senior officers to the bridge.”