• • •

Martine Jacobs and her two children, Oliver and Chloe, set off towards the lift.

“When are we going to eat, Mum? I’m starving!” Oliver dragged his heels along the carpet. His sister grumbled in agreement.

“You’re not starving. How many times have I told you? You eat three meals a day, you can’t be starving just because one is late. Try not eating for a week, then you’ll know what starving really means.”

“A week? Is it true then Mummy?” Chloe looked shocked. “Was the fire true? How will we live with no food for a week?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant…oh, never mind. Of course it’s not true. There wasn’t any fire, that’s just a silly rumour.”

“What’s a rumour?”

“It’s when lots of people start believing something that isn’t true.”

“You mean like when everyone started saying those things about you and Uncle Barry?”

Martine turned a shade of scarlet. “Yes, that sort of thing. Right, who’s going to press the button for the lift?”

“Me, me!”

The children pushed and shoved each other, running the last few metres. Oliver won, knocking his smaller sister out of the way at the last second. She folded her arms and began to sulk.

The three of them waited in silence, looking up at the digital display above the brushed-steel sliding doors. It counted upwards: 5…6…7…9.

“It forgot to stop!” Oliver protested. He pushed the call button repeatedly. “Stupid lift! Come back here.” The number refused to change. Oliver rubbed his stomach. “It’s doing it on purpose, it knows how hungry I am!”

“You’re silly, lifts don’t know anything!” Chloe giggled, her momentary tantrum forgotten.

“Come on you two, we’re not waiting around all day for a broken lift, we’ll take the stairs.”

Martine led the way.

“Aw, I hate the stairs!”

“Me too!”

The trio made the short trip to the centre of the ship, the nearest staircase that would take them down to their allocated restaurant.

“Who’s that man, Mummy?” Chloe asked.

“I don’t know. Walk behind me, darling, you too, Oliver.”

“Why?”

“Just do as you’re told!”

The burly man wasn’t the only thing blocking their route. The stairways formed an intersection between the parallel corridors that ran the length of deck eight. This intersection had been sealed off with plastic sheeting.

The man turned to face Martine. “Sorry, madam, stairs are currently out of bounds.”

“What do you mean out of bounds? And why are you wearing that ridiculous mask? It’s very hard to understand you.”

“Can’t say any more right now, madam, but the stairs are no-go. Please return to your cabin with your children and await further instructions.”

Martine felt her cheeks flush red. Oliver’s head poked out from behind her. He saw the white mask and gasped. She pushed him back. “What’s going on? Why aren’t the lifts working? Why are you shutting us in?”

“Madam, please. For your own safety, return to your cabin. The lifts have been temporarily disabled. The captain will issue instructions once everyone is back on deck.”

“What? What does that mean, back on deck? Just this deck, or all decks? Is it just us? I need to go and see my friend, on deck two. He’s very important, he works here. And my children need to eat!”

“Madam, I shan’t tell you again, please return to your cabin or I will have to have you taken there by force.”

“Mummy, I’m scared!” Chloe whimpered.

Martine stared at the man. He stared back, his hand on a radio at his belt. It was clear she wasn’t going to get anywhere with him. “Come on kids, let’s get back. The restaurant is still closed.”

“But Mum! I’m starving!”

“Come on, last one back has to clean the bathroom!”

The challenge worked, and the children charged off at top speed, bumping each other into walls along the way. Martine turned back to the guard. “You can’t imprison us here like this. I’m calling the captain, and the committee. What’s your name? I’m reporting you!”

“My name is Rob Dobson, security officer. The committee sent me here, they closed the deck, madam.”

“Well you haven’t heard the last of me, Mr Dobson.” She turned and stormed off, unsure who she was most annoyed with, the guard for his attitude, or the committee for taking such strange actions. She made it almost all the way back to her cabin before losing her balance and toppling over.

“Mummy? Mummy! Are you alright? Get up Mummy! What’s wrong?”

“It’s fine darling, it’s fine. It’s just…my feet. Mummy’s got a little problem with her feet.”

Eleven

“CAPTAIN NOAH, I think you need to see this.” Dave turned from his lookout position, handing his binoculars to Jake. “On the horizon, twenty degrees to port.”

Jake adjusted the heavy field glasses, bringing the image into sharp focus. They had been sailing past the Outer Hebrides for hours, the low-lying land covered in the now familiar grey ash. Now mainland Scotland was coming into view in the distance. But that wasn’t what Dave had been interested in. “Is that…it looks like…alright, what do you think it is?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say it was a life raft.”

Lucya looked up. “Like the one we found yesterday? Are you sure?”

“It does look like it could be a raft,” Jake agreed. “Difficult to tell from here.”

Lucya put on a pair of headphones and started working her communications console, twisting dials and punching numbers into a computer terminal. Deep in concentration, her face turned to a frown. “I’m not picking up any distress signals, nothing at all.”

“Could we have a problem with the radio?” Jake asked.

“No. I mean, I’m seeing the Ambush’s transponder, and our own, but there’s nothing more than that. No raft. But you’re right, the radar is seeing something tiny ahead. Hang on, talking of the Ambush, they’re calling now.”

“Put them through the speaker.”

 There was a crackle and a hiss, then Captain Coote’s voice boomed loud, filling the bridge.

“Good afternoon, Arcadia, Coote here! Listen, we’re seeing what looks like another raft on the port side.”

“We see it too, Captain, although this one doesn’t seem to be broadcasting a distress signal.”

“Indeed not. However, it is not much of a detour. I believe we should investigate.”

“Agreed. If there’s anyone in there, they need our help.”

“We will surface the Ambush. As we’re approaching the lochs, it’s not going to make much difference to our sailing time. Perhaps you would be good enough to have your men re-establish the connecting walkway? Mine will be standing by to assist.”

“Of course, Captain.”

• • •

Jake left Erica in the capable and delighted hands of Lucya. The Ambush was on the surface once more, and the engineers were in the final stages of hooking up the gangway. By the time he got to the deck two exit, the raft was almost upon them. The two vessels had once again slowed to a crawl as they negotiated their passage carefully, scooping up the raft exactly as before.

“Hi, Jake,” a voice called from the conning tower.

“Eric, good to see you. How has life been underwater?”

“Oh you know, same old same old. Coote’s on his way up. We’re the welcoming party again.”

Jake made his way to the middle of the ramp, watching the sea pass beneath his feet. He could see Atlantic salmon darting about just beneath the surface, and felt immediately hungry. He hoped that the lace makers and crocheters who were repairing the fishing net weren’t caught up in the deck eight quarantine. There were some nice cabins up there, and many of those who had been assigned to work teams had been reallocated rooms on that deck.

“Afternoon, old boy! And a lovely afternoon for it too. I must say, all this popping up above the surface is giving me the appetite for the life of a surface skimmer. One forgets one’s love of the ocean when one is stuck beneath it for weeks on end!”