“And you think the guy you’ve got back there, it’s the same thing?” Jake asked, rubbing his brow.

“I think it is a possibility, but I need to perform a post-mortem, and I need to test her blood, after I have tested the body we pulled out of the water.”

“Busy time for you, Grau.”

“Yes, not a situation I am particularly delighted by. There is something else. The blood from the patient in there? I had the machine run more analysis overnight. We have absolutely no idea what is wrong with him apart from that it seems to be some kind of microbial infection. It is as if his body is being eaten from the inside out. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“Forgive my ignorance, Doctor, but is it possible it’s a rare condition that your machine is not programmed to detect?”

“Very possible. We are but a small unit; Pelagios installed the minimum equipment required by international maritime law for a vessel of this size. If he had a common cold, or influenza, or even e-coli, then it would be a trivial task to detect. But once we step outside of the everyday, we are in the dark.”

“Is the Ambush better equipped?”

“Sadly not in that respect. They have a similar capability to our own. I will take the opportunity to speak with Surgeon Lieutenant Vardy; perhaps he has seen this condition or something similar. That is the best I can hope for.”

A thought occurred to Jake. “Grau, get on to Silvia and have her check the census. You’re overstretched. We’ve been so focussed on creating the farming, fishing, and cleaning teams that we haven’t even begun to look at expanding medical yet. With three thousand people on board, there have to be doctors, nurses, all sorts. Get yourself some staff, Grau.”

“More hands on deck would be most useful, I must admit.”

“Great, do it. Keep me posted if anything important happens.”

• • •

“…Five six seven eight!”

Music blared out of speakers the size of garage doors. A thumping bass line made the walls vibrate. Six lines of ten people leapt into action, swinging arms and legs in time to the beat. At the front of the huge and brightly lit gymnasium, Entertainments Manager Barry Nickelson faced the group, calling instructions into his head-mounted microphone, and demonstrating the moves that were to be followed.

“And…swing and jump! Swing, swing, kick. Turn and lean. Back and kick!”

Barry saw it as something of a personal mission to try and keep the whole community fit and in shape. The holiday was over, and if they were truly the last surviving humans on the planet, they had a duty to keep themselves in peak condition. Unfortunately his enthusiasm for this healthy living was not shared by the majority, and the class size shrank a little every day. Most cited the same complaint: with little in the way of healthy food available, and only water to drink after a workout, what was the point in expending energy unnecessarily?

“I can see you at the back there! Come on, put some effort into it. And…swing and jump!”

The front row, those showing the most motivation, comprised entirely of submariners. Coote had granted them ‘shore leave’ aboard the Spirit of Arcadia. They had as long as it took to reach Scotland to stretch their legs and take in the fresh air that they so craved. Their presence wasn’t just about giving them a break from the confines of the submarine; it also made more space available for those remaining on the Ambush, and to those men, space was the ultimate luxury.

Barry began a series of star jumps, arms and legs outstretched. He was getting close to the end of the routine, and liked to finish with this energetic sequence. On the third jump, something went wrong. His feet hit the ground, but he never experienced the sensation of them coming into contact with the hard linoleum surface. His balance lost, his legs crumpled underneath him. Arms flailing, he landed with a thump on his bottom, sending the full force of the impact up his spine. A moment’s dizziness, and he fell flat on his back, out cold.

• • •

“Honestly, she’s no bother at all, Kiera. It’s quite a pleasure having her actually. She’s a little angel.”

“If anyone’s an angel it’s you, Silvia, taking her in like this.”

“How’s her father?” Silvia lowered her voice, not wanting to upset Erica, who was contentedly drawing pictures of her friends. “She never stops asking. All I can tell her is that he’s getting better. She wants to know when she can see him.”

“It’s not looking good. Any time he regains consciousness he yells out in so much pain, we have no choice but to sedate him. Grau’s at a loss for a diagnosis.”

“Well I hope this is going to help.” Silvia pulled some paper out of a file. “I haven’t been through the whole lot yet, but I’ve found you a retired forensic pathologist, and a nurse. I would have thought there would be more, but it’s a start.”

“A forensic pathologist is the jackpot!” Kiera’s face lit up. She leaned in, speaking in a whisper. “We’ve got two corpses down there, and no disrespect to Grau, but he’s better at dealing with the living than the dead. So who’s our new best friend? We’ve got post-mortems waiting.”

“She’s called Janice Hanson. If my maths is right, she’s fifty-five years old. Retired young, lucky lady. She’s an American; Chicago. Here, you can keep her census form, I made a copy. And here’s the nurse, Mandy Chalmers, Australian. Not much in the way of detail on her form. Let’s see, twenty-eight years old, married, works full-time in an emergency room.”

“That’s brilliant, Silvia, you’re a star.”

“Hanson’s already in a nice room so we can’t offer her an upgrade in return for work, but she will get to keep her cabin. Chalmers can be moved up. She’s got a tiny cabin, not even a window. She’s married; her husband isn’t on any team yet. He put himself down as unemployed. He’ll probably end up washing dishes or as a labourer for one of the food teams in time.”

“I’ll go and see Hanson right away. The quicker we can get some answers the better.” Kiera stood to leave and walked over to Erica. “Hey Erica, I have to go now, but I’ll come and see you again later okay?”

“Okay. Are you going back to my daddy?”

“Yes. Not straight away, but I’ll see him later.”

“Tell him he has to get better quickly, or else!”

“I will, sweetie.” She ruffled the girl’s hair. Erica pulled a face and went back to her drawings.

Kiera took a step towards the door, but something was terribly wrong. She tried to move, to lift her foot, but it was stuck to the floor.

“Kiera? Are you okay?”

“No,” the nurse replied, panic rising inside her. “I can’t feel my feet, Silvia. I can’t feel or move my feet!”

• • •

Jake filled his lungs with cold, fresh sea air. His nose was still filled with smoke from the fire; it felt like it was burning his sinuses and throat. As he took more deep breaths, he looked out from his deck seven vantage point towards the approaching Faroe Islands. They weren’t passing very close by, but even so, the rocky projections were clear to see with the naked eye. The toxic ash from the asteroid had blanketed the once green slopes, making the archipelago look like huge lumps of coal that had been scattered into the sea by some giant unseen hand.

“Captain Noah, we are about to bring up the net!”

Jake looked back over his shoulder. Stieg was waving to him, a big grin on his face. He was a man who loved his profession and was delighted to be doing what he adored once again. Jake smiled and went to join the Swede and his men.

“How do you think it went, Stieg?”

“Hard to say, but I am, how do you say, quietly optimistic? I saw many herring this morning. If we don’t have some of those in the net I will be surprised. Your chef will have his hands full, I am sure.”

“My chef has his hands full already,” Jake said, feeling a sudden pang of guilt that he was outside enjoying the fresh air while Claude had suffered much more in the fire. “But that’s a different story. Don’t let me hold you up. Is there anything I can do to help?”