Douglas Child - The Wheel of Darkness

The tulpa was close now, very close, of its prey.

64

GAVIN BRUCE AND HIS LITTLE GROUP—NILES WELCH, QUENTIN Sharp, and Emily Dahlberg—followed Liu and Crowley toward a port-side hatchway onto Half Deck 7. It was marked Lifeboats; a similar hatch would be found on the starboard deck. A crowd milled before the hatch and, as soon as they appeared, converged on them.

“There they are!”

“Get us on the lifeboats!”

“Look, two ship’s officers! Trying to save their own asses!”

They were besieged. With a shriek, a heavy woman in a disheveled tracksuit grabbed Liu.

“Is it true?” she shrieked. “That we’re headed toward the rocks?”

The crowd surged forward, sweaty, smelling of panic. “

Is it true

?”

“You’ve got to tell us!”

“No, no, no,” Liu said, holding up his hands, the grimace of a smile on his lips. “That rumor is

absolutely

false. We’re proceeding on course to—”

“They’re lying!” a man cried.

“What are you doing here at the lifeboats, then?”

“And why the hell are we going so fast? The ship’s pounding like crazy!”

Crowley shouted to make himself heard. “

Listen

! The captain is merely bringing us into St. John’s at all possible speed.”

“That’s not what your own crew is saying!” the woman in the tracksuit bellowed, grabbing the lapels of Liu’s uniform and twisting them frantically. “Don’t lie to us!”

The corridor was now packed with excited passengers. Bruce was shocked by how wild and unruly they had become.

“

Please!

” Liu cried, shaking off the woman. “We’ve just come from the bridge. Everything is under control. This is merely a routine check of the lifeboats—”

A younger man pushed forward, his suit coat hanging open, the buttons of his shirt undone. “Don’t lie to us, you son of a bitch!” He made a grab at Liu, who ducked aside; the man took a swing and struck Liu a glancing blow to the side of the head. “ Liar! ”

Liu staggered, dropped his shoulders, turned, and, as the man came back at him, slammed his fist into his solar plexus. With a groan, the passenger fell heavily to the floor. An obese man charged forward, his bulk heaving, and took a wild swing at Liu while another grabbed him from behind; Bruce stepped forward, neatly dropping the fat man with a counterpunch while Crowley took on the second passenger.

The crowd, momentarily shocked by the outbreak of violence, fell silent and shuffled back.

“Return to your staterooms!” cried Liu, his chest heaving. Gavin Bruce stepped forward. “You!” He pointed to the woman in front, wearing the tracksuit. “Step aside from that hatch, now !”

His voice, ringing with naval authority, had its effect. The crowd shuffled reluctantly aside, silent, fearful. Liu stepped forward, unlocked the hatch.

“They’re going to the lifeboats!” a man cried. “Take me! Oh God, don’t leave me!”

The crowd woke up again, pressing forward, the air filling with cries and pleadings.

Bruce decked a man half his age who tried to rush the door and won enough time for his group to pile through. Within moments they had pressed the hatch shut behind them, shutting out the crowd of panicked passengers, who began pounding and shouting.

Bruce turned. Cold spray swept across the deck, which was open to the sea along the port side. The boom and rumble of the waves was much louder here, and the wind hummed and moaned through the struts.

“Jesus,” muttered Liu. “Those people have gone frigging crazy.”

“Where is security?” Emily Dahlberg asked. “Why aren’t they controlling that crowd?”

“Security?” said Liu. “We’ve got two dozen security officers for more than four thousand passengers and crew. It’s anarchy out there.”

Bruce shook his head and turned his attention to the long row of lifeboats. He was immediately taken aback. He had never seen anything like them in his navy days: a line of giant, fully enclosed torpedo-shaped vessels, painted bright orange, with rows of portholes along their sides. They looked more like spaceships than boats. What was more, instead of being hung from davits, each was mounted on inclined rails that pointed down and away from the ship.

“How do these work?” he asked, turning to Liu.

“Freefall lifeboats,” Liu said. “They’ve been deployed on oil platforms and cargo ships for years, but the

Britannia

is the first passenger vessel to use them.”

“Freefall lifeboats? You can’t be serious. It’s sixty feet to the water!”

“The passengers are buckled into seats designed to cushion the g-forces of impact. The boats hit the water nose-down, hydrodynamically, then rise to the surface. By the time they surface they’re already three hundred feet from the ship and moving away.”

“What kind of engines you got on these?”

“Each has a thirty-five diesel, capable of eight knots, and they’re all supplied with food, water, heat, and even a ten-minute air supply in case there’s fuel burning on the water.”

Bruce stared at Liu. “Good God, man, this is perfect! I thought we were going to have to launch old-fashioned boats on davits, which would be impossible in these seas. We could launch these right now!”

“I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple,” Liu said.

“Why the hell not?”

“The problem is our forward motion. Thirty knots. That’s almost thirty-five miles an hour—”

“I know what a knot is, damn it!”

“It’s just that there’s no way to know how our forward speed might affect the boats. The rules are very emphatic that the boats have to be launched from a stationary ship.”

“So we launch a test boat, empty.”

“That wouldn’t tell us how passengers might be affected by the lateral g-forces.”

Gavin Bruce frowned. “I get it. So we need a guinea pig. No problem. Give me a portable VHF and put me in there. Launch the boat. I’ll tell you how hard it hits.”

Crowley shook his head. “You might be injured.”

“What choice do we have?”

“We couldn’t let a passenger do that,” Liu replied. “I’ll do it.”

Bruce stared at him. “No way. You’re the bosun. Your expertise is needed up here.”

Liu’s eyes darted toward Crowley, darted back. “It might be a rough landing. Like being in a car, hit broadside by another moving at thirty-five miles an hour.”

“This is water we’re talking about. Not steel-on-steel. Look, somebody’s got to be the guinea pig. I’ve taken worse risks than this. If I get hurt, at least I’ll be off the ship. As I see it, I’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s not waste time.”

Liu hesitated. “I should go.”

Bruce frowned with exasperation. “Mr. Liu, how old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“And you, Mr. Crowley?”

“Thirty-nine.”

“Children?”

Both nodded.

“I’m sixty-eight. I’m a better test case because my age and condition are more in line with the other passengers. You’re needed on the ship. And,” he added, “your kids still need you.” Now Emily Dahlberg spoke up. “One occupant isn’t a sufficient test for the launch. We’ll need at least two.”

“You’re right,” Bruce said. He glanced toward Niles Welch. “What about it, Niles?”

“I’m your man,” Welch replied immediately.

“Wait a minute,” Dahlberg protested. “That’s not what I—”

“I know what you meant,” Bruce replied. “And I’m deeply appreciative, Emily. But what would Aberdeen Bank and Trust say if I endangered one of its most important clients?” And with that, he took the VHF from Liu’s unprotesting hand, moved to the stern hatch of the nearest orange spaceship, and turned the handle. It opened on pneumatic hinges with a soft hiss. He stepped into the dark interior, nodding for Welch to follow. After a moment, he poked his head out again.