Chapter Eight
Mickael must have seen it a few seconds after me because a squeaky sound comes out of his throat as he tries to say something. This alerts Tomas, who looks back at me, takes one look at my face and turns to see what disaster awaits us. He is the first to respond by yelling for everyone to get below. His frantic cries knock me out of my stunned state and I start yelling for Max, I haven’t seen him up on deck and he said he was going down to draw but I want to be sure. I turn a full circle to see if he is anywhere on deck. Renka is running towards us and Gerla has grabbed hold of Mickael, both of whom are standing stone still staring out at the gigantic wave that seems to grow as it nears. Just then a droning buzzing sound bursts forth from somewhere on the ship, it isn’t as loud or irritating as the defence alarm but it is clearly a BAS invention. Even though I know it isn’t the intruder alarm I reach for my knife with my injured hand, knowing I’ll pay for it later, and do another full circle looking for any danger. What I see is the capping on the top of the ships wall open as if it is a lidded box that opens all the time. I stare at it in confusion, wondering what it is going to do. As far as I can see along the length of the ship, my view of the fishtail end is blocked with the cylinders and transports, the capping is opening up everywhere and clear screen panels are moving up from within the wall.
Someone grabs my arm and pulls me along with them, my instinctual response is to fight them off but this just results in a tighter grip and another arm grabbing me around the waist. I wriggle to face whoever it is and see Tomas like I have never seen him before. He is wet all over which I think strange until I realise I’m wet too. But the most striking thing about him is the look of utter determination on his face, there is no room for anything else. I know that he doesn’t even feel me trying to pull away from him. His strength is far beyond my own and my fighting is useless so I try to relax my body a little and he responds by looking down at me as if he doesn’t know I’m there. I try yelling at him to stop and let me go but he doesn’t seem to know what I am saying so I point at the wall of the ship to show him what is happening. I follow my own hand and am astounded to see the screens stretched nearly all the way over our heads, melting together seamlessly when each panel connects. It is going to cover the whole ship. It is going to stop the wall of water hitting us.
Tomas lets go of me and stares dumbfounded at the screen, it connects noiselessly at the top in a complete replica of the shape of the ship itself. It is a real fish shape now with the screen completing the look, I half expect the ship to flick its tail and submerge, forcing us to finish off the rest of the trip underwater. But instead eerie music sounds all around us. I have never heard music like this before. It flows and sounds relaxing, which I guess is the purpose of this noise but it’s slightly off sounding as if age has somehow distorted it.
All of this happens in mere seconds. My mind registers everything in exact detail as adrenalin pumps through me preparing for the massive wave to hit. I look back at the wall of water through the screen. It has grown as it approaches sucking more and more water into its depths. Renka reaches us and is yelling for us to go down below, I look at him and see movement at the stairs behind him. The others have come up on deck to see what is happening. They follow everyone’s frozen stares and their mouths form small ‘o’ shapes in unison. It would have been comical any other time but somehow doesn’t bring a smile to my face in this moment. Tomas and Renka grab hold of each of my arms bracing for impact, I’m not sure if they think I’m their anchor or buoy or they are mine.
It is surreal, the wave hits the ship with a force that should have smashed the vessel apart and sent us to watery deaths, but instead the water disperses along the surface of the screen and washes over us as if we are an insignificant cork in a tub of disturbed water. My senses are confused, my body has tensed for the ship to rock wildly or tip completely, my eyes scrunched expecting the screen to smash and water to rush in and more disturbing than the rest, my ears await a deafening noise that befits a wall of crazed water hitting a ship and crushing its contents. But they are met with the eerie slightly off-kilter piano piece that lends the whole scenario a dream-like quality.
The wave doesn’t miss a beat, it continues over the ship, barely losing any of its power or massive size to meet with whatever obstacle it will find further along. Our ship is left bobbing about wildly in the aftermath of the swell. Tomas and Renka let go of my arms and spread their arms out to balance themselves against the ship’s movement. Without consciously thinking about it I do this too, maintaining my body’s centre of gravity with my arms spread out like the span of a great seabird. It is a stance that repeats itself with everyone on deck and this time a smile spreads across my face as its comic value hits. We all looks like birds in the middle of mating season doing a fancy dance to attract a mate. A wave of euphoria hits me as I realise the danger is gone and I laugh out loud letting my body rock a bit more with the roll of the ship.
I look at Tomas who is laughing as well and it makes me laugh harder until I am bent over in hysterics. I glance to my left to see Mickael and Gerla celebrating with an exaggerated twirling dance to the absurdly off-key music. Merva, Linton and Isabella who had burst up the stairs from below just in time to see the wave hit are spinning around in a circle holding hands and laughing wildly. To my right Renka sports a look of disgust as he surveys the same scene I do. He looks down at me hunched and still making post hysteria hiccup sounds and his look turns to fury. He then marches off towards the control room where the shadows of movement suggest Diego and Vonteuse are working to understand what has just happened. I guess the ship just revealed another one of the defence mechanisms it has.
The aftermath is not as exciting as the event itself. Renka gathers everyone in the common cabin and rants and raves about how all the drills practise that had us meet in the common cabin in an emergency to check everyone is accounted for before grabbing our weapons is useless if we’re all going to run up on deck at the first sign of something unusual. He does have a point, but I feel like a little kid getting in trouble from a parent and I donn’t recall giving him the right to take on that role. I look around at the others who just take it from him. I’m not about to let Renka treat me this way. I’ve done nothing wrong, I don’t remember seeing him running straight down to the common cabin, he stood staring at the wave like the rest of us.
“Did you run to the common cabin when the buzzing sound went off, Renka?” I ask loudly so everyone can hear.
Renka looks at me with hatred in his eyes and I hold his stare with righteousness in mine.
“I was trying to get everyone else down from the deck to the meeting point”, Renka answers, articulating every sound with gritted teeth.
“But that isn’t part of the emergency drill, is it? I thought we were to look after ourselves and make our own way to the meeting point”, I reply smugly and notice Gerla, Isabella and Mickael look down to avoid what they expect to be an explosion from Renka.
“Yes, that is the protocol, but I assessed the situation and noted that nearly everyone was up on deck so I altered the plan to suit the circumstance”, Renka responds having the grace to look a little sheepish. He probably guesses what my next comment is going to be.
“Well, maybe that’s what everyone else did”, I quip back. He set himself up for that one.
“Not everyone was on deck, Mayther and I were in the common cabin”, Max calls out in a firm confident voice.
I can’t believe it, not only does he stand up in front of everyone and state his purpose confidently and loudly, he also confronts the one person in the room most of the others don’t dare go up against. I am astonished and a little uneasy in the change I’m witnessing in Max. First he argues to do my sentry, now this.
Renka is just as stunned as I am by this admission, everyone else seems to be as well. Most of them probably see Max as an extra, and a damaged one at that, just coming along because I argued for him. Apart from their initial attempts at includi
ng Max, they hadn’t really paid him much attention and are a little uncomfortable around him. I assume this is because of the midnight screaming and his inclination to be alone. I can see on their faces that to hear him suddenly stand up and talk against Renka has made them change their initial assessments of him. The only one who doesn’t look perplexed or surprised by Max is Tomas. He is sitting back just watching the proceedings as if this type of thing happens every day. I suddenly feel angry with him for sitting back and just letting Renka talk to everyone the way he did. Why doesn’t he stick up for himself? He did the exact same thing as Renka after all, tried to get everyone below deck, even to the point of physically dragging me down. I give him a dirty look that he catches the end of as he looks my way. I turn my head but not fast enough to see the look of confusion on his face.
“Well, at least there were two of us who followed the drill. We’ll have to practise more or if you don’t think there is any point to it we should just stop wasting our time now”, Renka replies, his anger unable to complete mask his embarrassment.
It makes me see him in a different light, he wants to be in control and acts confident but he isn’t as self-assured as he makes out. His arrogance hides his uncertainties but the slight flush on his cheeks reveals more than the set of his shoulders and his cocky voice ever could.
After this statement, silence fills the room. Everyone is waiting for someone else to speak. Of course we should still practise the drills and maybe do some fake emergency scenarios to help us get it into our heads. Renka knows that but is trying to get someone else to say it, a clever tactic after the way he was just shown up. I am not going to help him along. I sit back and look around the room. Mayther is the only one who looks pretty pleased with himself and no wonder, Max has just revealed him to be one of only two of us who followed the training when put to the test for the first time. Mickael is looking slightly amused at this turn of events, eyes flashing around the room waiting for the next one to talk. I don’t think he can hold any emotion besides excitement for too long. Most of the others are sneakily peaking out of the corner of their eyes to judge who will speak up or whether they should be the ones to talk. Not surprisingly Merva and Linton sit slouched in their chairs looking about with a smirk on their faces as if they’re in some sort of power struggle – which if I’m honest is pretty much what I’m doing. I feel a little ashamed to be placed in the same category as them and decide to talk up only to be beaten to it by Tomas.
“I think we should keep up the defence practice and maybe do some emergency drills to put the routine in our minds”, Tomas offers clearly and calmly.
His reiteration of my exact thoughts throws me a little, Max is able to do it to me a lot but I’m not too comfortable with being on the same page as Tomas, it seems to be happening a bit lately. Tomas’ breaking of the silence at all makes me feel petty, he seems to rise above the stupid squabbles and power struggles on this ship every time.
Heads nod and a few people call out that it’s a good idea. Mayther suggests that he come up with a few emergency scenarios and Diego and Vonteuse say they don’t have a problem activating the alarm when it’s needed. Everyone breaks off in to their own little groups to talk and some leave the cabin. I notice that Fiona stays by herself. She didn’t seem too involved in the discussion we just had. She looks concerned about something that’s occupying her mind. I remember the promise I made to myself to seek her out and thank her sincerely for the help she gave Max and me when I was sick and walk over to her to do it now.
She doesn’t hear me approach even though I bump into a chair leg that someone left sticking out in the walkway, I have to call her name to get her attention. She looks up at me and smiles a too-big smile a second too late.
“Are you alright, Fiona?” I ask concerned.
“Yeah, sorry I was just thinking. What’s up?”
She turns her body to give me her whole attention and I think that movement represents her really well. She is kind, caring and attentive, even though she doesn’t know what I’m going to say and she obviously had worries of her own she is going to listen to me wholeheartedly and help if it’s needed. Between her and Tomas it is no wonder I give myself a mental lashing every time I’m around them, they’re too nice.
“I just wanted to thank you again, I mean really thank you for helping Max and me when I was sick. Tomas told me you gave up a lot of sleep and I wanted you to know that we’re really grateful”, I say sincerely.
“You already thanked me, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we all haven’t helped someone with the Sickness before. Max already thanked me as well”, Fiona says in her kind efficient sort of way.
I think about Max seeking Fiona out and thanking her, it was just natural for me to thank Fiona for him. I hadn’t done it with Tomas because I assumed Max would have thanked him himself, but with Fiona I thought he’d be a bit reserved. Maybe I’ve underestimated how close Max became Fiona when she was helping.
Fiona and I talk for a little while about the wave and how amazing it looked approaching then just washing over the top of us. We come up with a few crazy ideas for fake emergencies, like a pod of whales attacking the ship. But through it all I get the impression that Fiona’s mind is elsewhere and wonder if I should ask her if she wants to talk about anything. I don’t want to pry and if she wanted to tell me about something she was worried about she’d tell me when she was ready. I always liked that about Fiona, she knew when to ask and when not to. At the very least I should give her the same courtesy, besides, I’m not so sure I’m equipped to offer advice to anyone, I just solved one of my problems by punching them in the face.
After saying goodbye to Fiona I head to the supplies room. I am really hungry and want to eat something before I go up on deck and look more closely at the ship’s wall. I have never noticed any groove or hinge to suggest that it would open and spew forth a very handy screen. I open the door to the supply room and see that I am not the only hungry one. Mayther is throwing some dried seaweed into a large steel bowl. I assume he’s going to take it on deck to cook some soup. There is a kitchen cabin on the ship but nothing seems to work in it. Vonteuse fiddled in there when we first came on board but he got only so far as to turn on a fan over a stove, the stove itself was out of action. Mayther has been cooking our soup over a fire in a huge cooking bowl that he fuels with paper and inedible seaweed he fishes out of the water. It is a waste to have an unworkable kitchen. No one ever goes in there anymore as far as I know, all the utensils and the food we need are in the supplies room so there really isn’t much need to go into the kitchen. But, what use is a high-tech kitchen when you have no food to cook anyway, maybe if we had some red meat to roast it would be a different story. I don’t think anyone really notices its loss, it’s not as if any of us are used to luxurious cooking supplies at home, a simple wood stove and range are all we use and with the measly amounts of food we have to share there are few ways we can cook to make it stretch out.
“You hungry too, hey?” Mayther asks.
“Yeah, I know these biscuits and the salted meats are supposed to keep us going nutritionally but it’s getting to the point where the piles of paper are looking tastier”, I answer sardonically.
“Well, you’re in luck. I caught a turtle this morning and I’m going to boil the whole lot in a stew. I’m guessing it will be more tasty than paper”, Mayther replies with a big smile.
“Really, that’s great. Do you mind if I come and watch you cook it?” I ask enthusiastically. It isn’t everyday you see a sea turtle, let alone get to eat one.
“Sure, grab a few biscuits and I’ll crush them in the soup, it can’t hurt nutritionally”, he answers with a smirk.
We walk up the stairs and on to the deck juggling our stash, I wonder where Mayther has kept the turtle and if it’s still alive. The small crowd of people kneeling in a circle outside of the control room answers one of these questions. I quicken my pace to join them and have a look. I notice Max among the
number, he’s smiling at something Isabella has just said and she looks pleased with his reaction. Looking away from Max I am quickly dragged in to the conversation when I squeeze through the circle and see the turtle lying upright in the centre. It looks a gruesome sight. I guess that Mayther didn’t really know how to dispose of a turtle the right way, if there is one. Its neck has been slashed and it has bled out on the deck. It’s about sixty centimetres from head to tail and the shell is laced in an intricate pattern of brown, green and yellow. It has green weed and an occasional marine creature attached to it. It is beautiful and easy to imagine its grace in the water. There would be a great deal of soup from this animal, even once the shell is removed. I’m unsure how turtle tastes but assume it’s similar to fish and any new addition to our diet is welcome.
“It was hard yards pulling it in. It must weigh forty kilos at least. I had to use the BAS net”, Mayther explains as he goes to work with a gutting knife.
He sets apart whatever he thinks will be useful and uses a bucket of water to wash out the now empty abdomen. From that new angle I can see there is quite a bit of flesh and my stomach grumbles at the prospect of some fresh protein other than fish. I notice a couple of the others are having the same reaction as I am. Gerla is licking her lips with her eyes bulging and Diego, who had stepped out of the control room to watch this unique event, rests his hand over his stomach as if reassuring it that food will soon come.
I move my position to get a better look at what Mayther is doing and notice a flash of movement from the corner of my eye. I look directly at the spot where I glimpsed the movement and recognise Fiona’s blue striped jacket. The weather has calmed a little from the earlier tumultuous seas and the protective screen is doing a good job of protecting us from what’s left of it, but it doesn’t seem to block out the temperature and it has dropped enough to cause a chill in the air. Fiona has clearly left the common cabin for the deck like most of us, but something about the movement caught my attention. It could have been the speed of the flash of colour or it could be that I still feel uneasy about her obvious distraction earlier which has peaked my curiosity. Either way I follow her.
I back out of the little crowd that has formed around Mayther completely unnoticed by the others. They are too intrigued with what is happening. A sea turtle is a rare sight. Even sentry has gone to the wayside - that probably has more to do with the enormous screen covering the ship than the turtle Mayther dragged in though.
Fiona has moved to the bow of the ship. The control room is positioned quite close to the bow but there’s about six metres between it and the raised area of the deck that stretches to the rail at the apex of the ship. I walk around the front of the control room, noticing that it’s empty and see Fiona heading for this raised deck area. She is walking really fast, almost running and it seems so out of place on a ship where it doesn’t matter how fast you move you aren’t getting to your destination any quicker. Everyone pretty much moves at the same slow, relaxed pace around the ship, there is very little rushing and running unless we’re doing drills. I don’t try to conceal my pursuit of her. I’m concerned more than anything. It seems out of character for efficient, calm Fiona to be rushing anywhere. Something has to be wrong. She jumps up onto the raised deck area and speeds up to reach the neck high rail that surrounds the fish head shape of the ship. I hesitate a second, and move behind a storage chest that is secured to the deck. I expect to have to talk about something that is emotional for Fiona and that is a conversation I am not very good at. I need time to prepare myself. Maybe I am intruding on time Fiona wants to herself, for the second time today. This thought nearly has me turn around and walk back to Mayther’s turtle soup, but it is just an excuse for me to get out of what is likely to be an uncomfortable conversation.
In the time it takes me to contemplate walking away and deciding to stay after all, Fiona has climbed the rail and is hanging precariously over the edge. Instinct kicks in and I bolt out from behind the chest and run toward Fiona screaming ‘no’ in one long agonised voice. It isn’t until I get to her, yanking her back from the rail and seeing her confused expression that I realise she couldn’t have fallen over because the protective screen is up. Embarrassment floods through my body and I flush all over, probably a response to the hit of adrenalin as much as making a complete fool of myself. What did I think, that cool efficient Fiona was suicidal? No wonder people are questioning my sanity. This little stunt has me doing the same.
I sit on the deck puffing from the sprint with Fiona sitting in front of me looking bemused. At least she has the courtesy not to laugh that would be a bit much for me. But I have a vision of myself from Fiona’s perspective, a wraith-like scar-ridden girl collapsed on the floor in front of her and only seconds before running to save her from leaning onto a clear screen. A smile spreads across my face and it quickly turns into a giggle then outright laughter. Fiona takes this as licence to let loose and we both end up in hysterics on the floor of the raised deck. Tears are streaming down our faces and we start choking out imitations of my ‘no’ scream. I don’t know if it is our laughter or the scream from before but when we calm down enough to stand and straighten ourselves out, the small crowd that had gathered around Mayther’s turtle are standing staring at us with a mixture of concern, confusion and amusement on their faces. This brings on a new fit of the giggles and most of them just shrug and walk away, probably annoyed that they were dragged away from the turtle soup. Mickael and Max walk up to join us, Mickael with a huge smile on his face always out for a good time, and Max with a frown of confusion.
“Share the joke?” Mickael asks.
“Nooooooooo!” Fiona answers in mimicry of my frantic call to stop her jumping overboard.
This sets us off again and we curl over, grabbing our stomachs with one hand and supporting each other with the other hand.
Max eventually drags me away with Mickael following to look at the progress of the soup and Fiona goes down to the bathroom. It isn’t until much later, when we sit in a big group enjoying Mayther’s delicious turtle soup on the deck, protected from the worst of the weather from the screen that I realise I never found out what Fiona was in such a hurry to see.