What member of the engineering department had switched the system to emergency power, or shut the watertight doors from the control room, no one ever knew. They were dead or gone. But the ship floated still, and the generators ran because someone had done what they were supposed to.

The emergency generators put out 1,200 kW. Enough for 20,000 light bulbs, Brenda imagined, but not enough to do much interesting on a ship this size. Certainly it wouldn’t move it. Still, it would last. Without the propulsion systems to power, there was an almost unlimited supply of fuel to power that generator.

There were these things to start with: power to the freezers and other galley circuits, power for some Atrium lighting, and running water to the main galley. The galley for the main restaurant was next to the ship’s main food storage area, which simplified things. Brenda was certain she could get the existing emergency power to the freezers with manpower and time.

In her mind, other than the water stuff, this was a straightforward, brute force effort. They were starting almost from scratch. The existing wiring for the ship was far too complex to rebuild, given the damage from the collision, gunfire, fires and the closed-off section. Brenda gave up on the original grid quickly. The Festival’s Chief Electrician was a good partner for her: smart and open-minded, he knew every inch of wiring on the ship, but was unafraid to re-imagine and re-purpose each piece for Brenda’s creative ideas. He also knew the skills of the other surviving crew.

The electricians under their direction wired directly, hundreds of yards of new wire spooled out, fished between floors through existing junction boxes and transformers until finally, well after dark, the freezers jumped back to life to a great cheer among the galley crew.

Brenda White waited anxiously for word after turning the switch, and when it came back with a runner, she gave someone a high-five and went to work on the Atrium lights.

20

There was no running water because of the loss of power, but jugs were left on the tables by the galley crew. After the beer, Travis and Conrad splashed the water on their faces and arms, wiping away some of the blood.

They saw Hesse through the gallery window as they passed. Hesse leaned on the counter next to the cash register and talked with the Colonel in the small shop.

There was an explosive sound of glass smashing.

“Candy! Chocolates! Assorted Bon-Bons!” came a booming voice.

With that scream, the crowd located the source of the explosion. There stood two bearded giants. One held a rifle over his head, and gestured to an open shop door, its glass smashed out.

“Parents, cheer up your kids!” the voice cheerfully filled the hall. “Let’s have some smiles back! Mind the glass there!”

Travis knew that voice. Most of the crowd knew that voice.

There was one of pro wrestling’s biggest stars, holding an assault rifle, inviting the terrorized crowd for candy. And that enormous man stood in the shadow of his shaggy haired companion.

There was a fog of unreality in the ship, and this appearance of a man from TV as part of their story thickened that fog. The strands connecting life as it had been known to life on this ship were further concealed.

Passing Travis and Conrad, the Mighty Lee Golding and his companion parted the crowd.

“Hey, how ya doing?” Lee nodded as he passed through. “Who’s in charge here?”

Hesse and Colonel Warrant met the two in the middle. They shook hands and made introductions. Hesse pulled them along into his office.

“I can’t believe you didn’t open the candy store,” the wrestler said loudly, “with all our troubles!”

Travis walked on to his family. At some point, Conrad was no longer next to him.

When Hesse’s office door shut behind them, the Colonel spoke first.

“How did you get the gun?” he asked Lee.

“I took it,” Lee said. “From the bad guys.”

“What happened to the bad guys?” the Colonel asked.

“We killed them,” he looked at the gun playfully. “I guess I’m just like any tourist collecting souvenirs. But I’m happy to be the one with the gun.”

They discussed numbers and logistics. Adam Melville told Hesse and Colonel Warrant  that there were a few hundred in the Theater, far fewer than in the Atrium. They had far fewer injuries as well. Hesse had already sent a doctor over, which had led to Lee Golding and Adam Melville coming down here to see who this was taking charge.

“Have your people had any food?” Hesse asked.

“Yeah. There’s a restaurant in the stern, just a flight up from the Theater. Italian. But there’s no power for the stoves.”

“There’s a main galley down below the big restaurant,” Hesse said, pointing to the Atrium, forward and up. “We’ve arranged a team to do meals until we get picked up. Right now, cold, but soon we hope to have power.”

“And if we’re not picked up?” Adam Melville said.

“Haven’t thought about it,” Hesse answered. “Not yet.”

The grey-haired giant had a look of good humor on his face. It bothered Hesse.

“We’re having the food from the other restaurants brought to the main galley, where we’ve almost got power restored to one of the freezers,” Colonel Warrant said. “We’d better have your food brought over too so we can keep it from spoiling.”

“Why don’t you get us power instead?” Lee asked. “We don’t have as much natural light. It’s not a pleasant place, but if we had some light we could stay there. I like Italian.”

Colonel Warrant and Hesse considered their position, in respect to their own authority to challenge Lee Golding and Adam Melville, and in respect to the gun.

“Yeah,” Hesse said. “With the section closed between us, it’s not easy to get stuff back to you. We’d have to carry the food up the stairs to get over the sealed sections. That’s a lot of flights of stairs. We’ll try and get you power right away. We’ll ask our guys what they can do. We have an electrical engineer. She’s a bigwig with General Electric. I think she’s going to get a handle on this. But it might take time.”

“How much food do you have?” Lee asked.

“A lot,” Hesse said, then turning to Adam Mellville: “As long as we get picked up. I’ll have them bring some tables down to the Theater.”

”How much water do you have?”

“Quite a bit,” Hesse said. “We have probably over a hundred thousand bottles. There’s also a full 300,000 liter tank. We’re trying to restore running water.”

The two big men exchanged looks.

“Our engineer thinks she can do it,” Hesse said.

“I hope we ain’t gonna be here that long,” Lee said.

Hesse shrugged. “It seemed wise to look into it.”

“We’ve got a problem with the doors,” Lee said. “We had to barricade them during the attack. We need some kind of power hacksaw to get them open.”

“Well, how did you get out?” Colonel Warrant asked.

“Obviously there are some open doors. But we would prefer more open doors. So, if you please, send a saw.”

The representatives from the Theater returned to their refugee center with smiles. Adam enjoyed his time with Lee Golding. He liked being surprised, and Lee Golding was always surprising. Adam was rarely with someone who drew attention away from himself.

Travis quickened his pace in the Atrium crowd, and his son burst forward and jumped into his arms. Travis needed the boy; he hugged him for a long time before he spoke.

“Hey, champ. Long day, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d it go?” Corrina asked.

“Exhausting. We won some, we lost some. That guy running the show… I hope he knows what he’s doing.”

Gerry stood a few paces off with Claude Bettman. Vera stood by herself, and Travis imagined that the old lady had been standing all day.

Soon Hesse called for attention, standing on the bar-top. Travis saw that the two big men had stopped on their way to the staircase to watch.