“This sounds excellent, good work Lucya. How long will it take us to get there?” Jake asked.

“Going slow for better efficiency, it will be about fifteen hours sailing time, but it could be more. I tried to factor in currents, but they are really a guess. The harbour is tiny, but it can take us—just. It will be some tricksy manoeuvring. Normally they would supply a pilot, but…well…you know.”

Jake nodded. He understood perfectly. “Claude, how’s the menu going?”

“It is not easy, this job that you ‘ave given me. But, I rise to the challenge. With a small breakfast, a modest lunch and dinner, we can feed everyone for twenty two days. Provided we can keep the freezers running for another week.”

“Great work Claude. People will already be hungry, we haven’t served food all day,” Jake said. Everyone around the table agreed heartily. “I’ll put out a call announcing breakfast service will start at six hundred hours. You can organise some breakfasts for then?”

“My boys will work through the night.”

“I’ll also announce the passenger manifest. We need to organise it quickly, issue people with meal vouchers at the same time.”

This drew some blank expressions around the table, so Jake filled in all present on his plans for a census disguised as a passenger manifest, and the reasons why. Melvin protested at the whole idea, calling it a “deception of the highest order”, but was summarily overruled by all present, much to Lucya’s delight.

“So returning to the meal arrangements, you will divide the passengers between the restaurants, of course?” Claude said. “We should have a list in each restaurant, cross their names off when they have eaten, so they do not take more than their fair share.”

“Yes, yes you’re right. Another good reason to get the census and manifest done quickly,” Jake agreed. “Silvia, can you join me on the bridge for breakfast? I’ll need your team to go door to door.”

“Of course, I’ll be there for six.”

“Great, so I think we have covered everything then. I will make those calls, then take first watch on the bridge. It’s now twenty two thirty. Lucya, you can replace me at oh-two thirty, in the meantime, get some sleep. All of you try and get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a very long day.”

The group slowly disbanded. Martin and Claude both ignored Jake’s call for sleep and went back to work. Lucya, Silvia and Grau headed for their cabins and some much needed rest. Melvin went to find his cronies to nominate someone to take his place on the bridge for the night shift.

Max remained on the bridge, something on his mind. Jake took to the PA to announce that food service would resume with breakfast, and that a census would take place the next day.

“Max, are you not going to catch forty winks?”

“I’m concerned about the security situation on this ship. I didn’t want to talk openly in front of the others, particularly Sherwood.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Given all that has happened today, people have been remarkably calm. Probably a mixture of shock and grief. But that’s not going to last. Sherwood is just the tip of the iceberg, a taster of what is to come. If we hit land tomorrow and…and everything is gone, then reality is going to set in. There could be mass panic. Probably more suicides, although that’s no bad thing.”

“I’m sorry?” Jake said. “How can suicide not be a bad thing?”

“From a security point of view, it means fewer people to keep in line. Every jumper is one less person to keep an eye on.”

Jake sighed. “I’m really glad I don’t live in your head, Max. So what are you saying? That we’re going to be dealing with kidnappings and mutinies on a regular basis?”

“Yes, that’s more or less it. I get your softly softly approach, we’re the good guys and all that. But it’s not going to work if we discover the worst. The dynamic will change. As long as there’s hope, then the passengers are passengers—customers. We’re here to protect and serve them. They paid to be here, we are in their employ. When that changes, we will become the enemy, repressors, prison guards.”

“I meant what I said to Melvin you know. If that happens, if home is gone and we are all that’s left, then there should absolutely be an election. Every passenger will have the chance to stand, to take charge. People can’t argue with a democratic process.”

“Jesus. Do you even watch the news Jake?”

“Well an elected captain will have a certain amount of authority. Obviously you can’t please everyone.”

“We’re getting away from the point here.”

“Which is?”

“Which is that before the shit hits the fan, we must beef up our security effort. Amazing as I am, there is a limit to what I can do with a team of one. I’m the Head of security, and I have one guy.”

“Ah. So this is a recruitment campaign? You want staff?”

“I need a team of people. People who are loyal to the company, to me. To you,” he added quickly.

“Anyone in mind?”

“Some of the sailors are ex-military boys, navy, know how to handle themselves, and can handle a weapon.”

“Ex-military, Max. Ex. We’re not creating a new army here, I don’t intend to see gun toting sailors prowling the decks. You’re worried about people panicking, that’s a great way to start a panic. No guns.”

“Not now maybe. But I need people who can cope if things turn ugly.”

“How many?”

“At least twelve. There should be a security presence on every deck. Twelve new guys plus Reeve, and I can cover each deck.”

“Okay, why not. You make some good points. And it will keep the sailors busy and out of trouble.”

“Good. I’ll get on it then.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, that was all. Good night then, captain.”

“Good night Max. Remember, not an army,” he called after him. But Max was already halfway out of the door.

Jake was alone once again. He settled into the captain’s chair, and looked out to sea.

Twenty-Six

THE NIGHT PASSED by uneventfully. Melvin returned after about half an hour and informed Jake that his replacement would arrive by oh-two thirty. Jake smiled to himself when he heard that. He didn’t know if Melvin was trying to avoid a shift on the bridge alone with Lucya, or if he wanted to be around while Jake was in charge. Either way he couldn’t help but be amused.

The replacement turned up as promised. It was the only woman from the group of passengers that had been on the bridge earlier, an American by the name of Stacey Martel. She was a larger lady, in her late twenties Jake guessed, and dressed for all the world as if she were on a Caribbean cruise rather than one visiting the Arctic. Her pink flowery top, bright green shorts and orange flip-flops certainly brightened up the bridge. Stacey made no real effort to talk to Jake, who had to wait around for an extra quarter of an hour as Lucya was late. He didn’t mind, he’d already had some sleep during the day, she needed rest more than him.

Lucya and Stacey didn’t exchange a word the entire time they were alone. Lucya spent most of her watch scanning the radio waves for signs of life, but nothing had changed, she heard only static. The passenger representative simply sat and stared into space, presumably only there to make sure no decisions were being made without Melvin’s input. Within an hour she had fallen asleep, and didn’t wake again until Jake returned to the bridge just before oh-six hundred hours.

“Morning Lucya. Oh, sorry Stacey, did I wake you?”

“Morning Captain,” Lucya said. “Did you get some sleep?”