A voice from the back called out “What is this, X Factor?” It was met with a few sniggers, but the noise quickly abated, as those present looked on intently waiting to see how many people would get up onto the stage.

Only one man did. He had been sitting in the front row. Those who arrived earliest in the theatre would have seen that he was the first person seated. In fact had anyone gone to the theatre hours earlier, when Melvin had finished his announcement, they would have found this man’s seat occupied.

The man made his way up the four steps at the side of the stage. He was short, a little hunched over, and rather scruffy. He wore grey trousers, a blue shirt, and a beige jacket. The untidy thin brown hair on his head seemed mismatched with his wiry and bushy beard. Guided by Flynn, he took up position next to Melvin. The two men shook hands, then turned to look out to the auditorium.

A few minutes went by, but it had become clear that nobody else was going to take the challenge. Melvin had to try and suppress a grin. The competition was less even than he had expected. Finally, Flynn spoke again.

“Thank you, sir, for your courage. Now I would like to invite our two candidates here to speak for a few minutes. Each can present their ideas for exactly how we should proceed in the coming days. In order to keep things fair, I will allow each man a maximum of five minutes in which to speak. When both have had their turn, we will open the floor to questions for a period of thirty minutes During this time we will all have the opportunity to cross examine these men. I will then call for a vote by way of a show of hands. If it’s too close to call, we will take a count by asking you to leave through one of two exits. So if that’s all clear, then I give the floor to our first candidate.”

Flynn took a couple of steps back, and Melvin stepped up to the front and centre of the stage.

“Thank you Mr Bakeman, and thank you sir, for presenting yourself,” he nodded towards the scruffy man. “And thank you to all of you for coming here and supporting democracy. My name is Melvin, and until three days ago I was a passenger, an entrepreneur, a son, and a brother. This was my first vacation in more than five years. The last five years I have created a business. I was out of work, but I didn’t want to live off the state. So I borrowed money from friends and family, and I started a business. I worked every single day of the last five years, many days I worked sixteen or seventeen hours. My hard work paid off, and I was able not only to support myself, but also to take on employees and support them and their families too. I tell you this for one reason. That reason is this. To show to you that I know how hard work and commitment pays off. I understand what it takes to get through the hard times, the times when you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know that if you make a plan, and stick to it, keep doing what you believe, then eventually, inevitably, that work will reward you.

“This ship needs a plan. To say there are dark days ahead would be a massive understatement. I think we all comprehend the enormity of the problem here. We are a floating city with severely limited resources. We have to act decisively and quickly, before those resources are at an end. If you elect me tonight, to take the captain’s chair, then I will immediately order this ship to sail for Scotland. It is well within the range of our fuel reserves, and it has one unique feature that I believe will be our salvation. There is a hardened military facility in the north of Scotland, a place that was designed to withstand nuclear attack. If anyone has survived this disaster, they will be in such a facility. Moreover, the bunkers in this base are kept stocked with supplies to last months or years.

I am not suggesting this trip will be easy or without danger. The facility is inland and will require an expedition through dangerous toxic ash. As your captain, I will lead this expedition. I will take on the risk, because I believe that the reward will be survival for us all. That is all I have to say, thank you.”

Melvin stepped back. There was silence. Then somebody, one person near the front, began to clap. They were joined by another, and then another. Soon the whole auditorium was resonating with the sound of a thousand people clapping and cheering, and shouting Melvin’s name.

Flynn waited for the excitement to calm down before once again taking centre stage.

“Thank you Mr Sherwood. A passionate speech indeed. So now I would like to ask our second candidate to take the floor.” He looked at the bearded man. “If you would like to step forward, you have five minutes.”

Flynn once again stepped back, taking up position next to Melvin. The scruffy man moved to the front of the stage.

And that is when all hell broke loose.

Forty-Five

THE BLONDE MAN led Jake down the corridor to the stairs, the other man brought up the rear. They climbed three flights, emerging on deck six. The men made no attempt to hide their weapons, the ship appeared deserted. Jake assumed that most people had gone to Melvin’s election meeting, and anyone who hadn’t was staying put in their cabins, awaiting the outcome.

“This way,” the blonde man grunted. He set off in the direction of the theatre.

The theatre was huge, spanning three decks. There were several sets of doors on each deck, giving access to the different tiers and blocks of seating. They didn’t use any of them. Instead they stopped at an innocuous white door. It was not labelled. The German waited to one side, watching Jake, while the Chinese man pulled out a key, inserted into the lock, and turned it with a click. He pulled down on the handle and the door opened with a squeak.

“In,” the blonde man pushed Jake towards the room.

He stumbled forwards and found himself in a small dark space. The back wall, to Jake’s left, was filled with racks of technical looking equipment. The far wall had more of the same. The front wall, to the right as Jake entered, had a window inset into it. The window was directly opposite the very centre of the theatre stage, and gave an excellent view of the whole theatre. Underneath was a very wide black desk covered in knobs and sliders. Jake had never been in this room, but he could see that it was used to control the stage lighting and sound.

His captors exchanged a few quiet words, then the Chinese turned and left, closing the door behind him.

“Sit down, relax a little. We have some time to kill.” The blond man pulled up a chair and positioned it so that he was looking out over the stage. Jake remained defiantly on his feet.

“As you like,” the man said shrugging. The gun was sitting across his knees, its presence a constant threat.

Jake looked out of the window. He could see Melvin standing on the stage, and another man too. He recognised that man, he had been with Melvin when he came to the bridge earlier. He had been armed. Another of those guns from the cabinet. A third man joined them on the stage. He was much smaller than the other two, scruffy looking, bearded. There was some more talking and then Melvin stepped forward to speak.

The blonde man in the small room set the gun down and got to his feet, extracted something from his pocket. It was a thin black plastic tie, the kind used to attach cables together.

“Sit,” he said, pointing at the chair.

Jake briefly considered refusing, but it was pointless. Screaming for help would be a waste of time as the room was clearly soundproofed. Fighting back was also not an option given the size of the other guy, and the fact he had that gun of course. He took a deep breath, thought of Lucya, and sat down.