Sedulity (Book One) Impact (10 page)

“No, they were gone by the time I got there. We thought they
might have come down here or the muster stations. But if they aren’t here, then
I hope not. Those muster stations look like a war zone,” Kevin said.

“They were not at the muster stations when the fire and water
hit, if that’s you’re thinking,” Reiner said. “I was in the Casino and the Martini
Bar before the water washed me in here and I am certain they had not come down
before that.”

“Thank you,” Kevin replied. “At least that’s something. I
just can’t figure out where they could have gone. And I’m worried they might be
injured.”

“If they are, they might have gone down to get medical
attention in the ship’s hospital,” Reiner suggested. “We’ve started taking the
badly injured down there too.”

“Good point,” Kevin agreed. “I guess I better check there
next.” He started to turn away, but Reiner grasped him by the arm.

“Please wait,” said the Lieutenant. “Can you tell us what is
happening out there? These people have been in here since this started and most
of them are ready to go into a full panic soon. I don’t know what to tell them.
Since you’ve been on the Bridge and know more about what’s happening than the
rest of us, will you please talk to them?”

“What? Me?” Kevin was taken aback. “What would I say?”

“Just explain what has happened. Tell them what to expect, or
whatever you can think of to keep them calm,” Reiner pleaded. “Otherwise, I’m
afraid this could turn into a riot.”

“Alright,” Kevin agreed reluctantly. He didn’t want to delay
his search for his family, but he could see that these people were in dire need
of reassurance. He and Petty Officer Perkins followed Lieutenant Reiner down to
the main stage while trying to decide how to explain the situation to these
passengers.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Reiner shouted. “Please listen for a
moment! Can I have your attention please?” The room quieted down slightly and
he continued. “This is Mr. Summers. He just came down from the Bridge and is
also the one who warned the Captain what to expect when we saw that big
fireball hit the ocean. He’s going to tell you what is happening. Please stay
calm and give him your full attention.” Reiner stepped back and gave Kevin
center stage.

As a TV weatherman, Kevin was used to live public speaking.
Every weeknight he spoke to countless thousands through their televisions, but
was no stranger to speaking in front of large crowds either. In Southern
California he usually had good news to report. In fact, he often joked that he
could just say that the weather would be nice without checking the forecast and
be right most of the time. When he reported bad news it was usually related to high
winds and wildfires, or occasional heat waves, heavy rain and mudslide warnings.
He’d never had to forecast tornadoes, hurricanes, or blizzards, aside from reporting
trouble other places and reminding Californians how lucky they were. The
current situation put all previous weather related disasters to shame. He
wasn’t prepared to give these people a complete forecast yet. He doubted that
would go over well. Nevertheless, he had to tell them some of what had happened
and what to expect, at least as it concerned those here on the ship. So, taking
a deep breath, he looked around the room and started speaking.

“What we witnessed earlier was an asteroid strike in the
middle of the ocean. It landed more than 100 miles from the ship, but it was
serious enough to cause everything we just went through. The initial effect was
a superheated blast wave, similar to a nuclear blast. It did significant damage
to exposed portions of the ship, including shattering windows and igniting
fires. Those of you here in this room were lucky to have escaped most of that.

“Soon after the initial blast wave we also encountered
unprecedented ocean waves hundreds of feet high, emanating from the impact
zone. That was the ‘roller coaster’ ride that the Captain warned you about. I’m
happy to report that Captain Krystos steered the ship perfectly through that
danger. We rode over and through the waves with only minor additional damage
and flooding. I should add that the water from those waves that entered the
ship through broken windows played a major role in putting out the fires that
were started by the initial blast wave. So, although I understand the flooding
was bad here, you should be glad that it probably saved the rest of the ship.

“At this point we seem to have made it through the worst of
the local effects of the impact. The ship is seaworthy and the crew is working
hard on damage control. They expect to restore normal power soon and we are
still underway at reduced speed. I understand that all the pumps are working
and the water that came in with the waves will be gone soon. There have been
quite a few injuries and some fatalities in other parts of the ship, but for
the time being this theater is probably the safest and most comfortable place
for you to be.” Kevin paused, hoping that would be the end of it, but wasn’t
surprised when a question was shouted from the audience.

“What about the meteor that fell through the roof here and
killed that man?”

 “Yes, well…” Kevin hesitated. “That was certainly unfortunate,
but it was not a meteorite. At least I don’t think it was. The asteroid impact
also threw what we call ejecta high into the atmosphere. It’s composed of the
ocean floor and possibly parts of the asteroid itself. Those bits and pieces
are falling back towards the ocean now. The larger fragments, like that one,
are quite spread out and it was simply bad luck that one of them fell into this
room, but that danger will also pass soon. In the meantime, you know the old
adage about lightning never striking the same place twice? I think it should
apply to fireballs too. So this is still the best place to be right now.”

“How do you know that?” another man yelled.

“I’m a meteorologist,” Kevin replied evenly. “I work as a
weatherman and I’m studying for a doctorate in Climatology. I’ve studied the
effects of asteroid impacts. But let me add one more reason for you to stay
here. Right now, outside, it’s raining. But this is
not
a normal rain.
It’s from the ocean water that was vaporized by the asteroid strike and it is
still very hot. Scalding hot. It may also contain chemicals from the asteroid
that you don’t want to be exposed to. So please stay here, remain calm, and I
am sure the crew will see to your needs as soon as possible.”

With that Kevin stepped off the stage, ignoring more shouted
questions about food, lifeboats, bathrooms and when they could go back to their
staterooms. He and Petty Officer Perkins looked straight ahead as they walked
up the aisle and out of the theater, passing several crewmen who insisted that
the other passengers remain seated. Kevin could only hope that his ad hoc
presentation had done more good than harm to their morale.

Kevin’s own morale was buoyed by the knowledge that so many
of the passengers had made it through the initial crisis unharmed, even if they
were angry and confused. It boosted his hopes for finding Amanda and Emily
alive and well. Nevertheless, his next destination was the ship’s Medical
Center on Deck One. If either of them were injured he wanted to be with them.

****

Chapter 9:

Although this was the pinnacle of the
information age, with 24 hour news and instant global internet access, the news
media was kept in the dark about the asteroid impact for more than an hour
after NASA and the US Military became aware of it. The primary reason for this
was the remote location of the asteroid impact and the time it took for
officials at various agencies and departments to confirm the event and seek
direction on how to respond to it. Nobody wanted to be the one accused of
issuing a false alarm, and none of the decision makers realized the dire
consequences of events unfolding on the other side of the world.

There were widespread sightings of
the asteroid as it entered the atmosphere and streaked over the Middle East and
South Asia and these were widely reported. However, there were only a few scattered
eyewitness reports of the impact at sea. Brief messages from ships, such as the
SS Sedulity
and
other less fortunate vessels, took time to trickle up through proper channels
and longer still for anyone to act on them.

The first public alarms were raised
in Australia after contact was lost simultaneously with two jumbo jets over the
mid-Pacific. It was initially assumed that the planes had collided, although
they should have been many miles apart. However, air traffic controllers
quickly received half a dozen panicked reports from other airliners describing
a massive fireball and mushroom cloud in the middle of the ocean. An Australian
television network monitoring these civil aviation broadcasts grabbed a scoop
on the story, or what they thought the story was. They reported that two planes
had been lost in what appeared to be a nuclear explosion over the ocean,
because that is how the surviving pilots of other planes described it. This
sparked debate over the possibility of terrorism, or a horrible accident aboard
a nuclear submarine. It would be some time before they realized that the truth
was far worse than either of those scenarios.

“Captain, we have restored partial satellite television
service, Sir.”

“Excellent, Mr. Crawford. What are you getting?”

“We have GNN International and several foreign language
stations online now. Should have more soon. We’re also trying to rig a shortwave
antenna without having to go outside in that damned rain.”

“What’s the news saying on GNN?” the Captain asked. “Any
mention of the asteroid?”

“A minute ago they were talking about sightings of a massive
shooting star over Europe and Asia, reports of windows breaking in India and
Indonesia, but no mention of an asteroid impact or any further danger,” Crawford
replied.

“Very well, keep listening and get me a working sat-phone.
How long does that take, anyway?” Captain Krystos asked with more than a hint
of impatience.

“Yes, Sir. Here’s an Iridium phone that one of the crew just
brought up from a lifeboat, Sir,” Crawford said as he held out the device.

“Well why didn’t you say so?” the Captain said in
exasperation. “Call this number and hand it to me when you get through.” He
passed Crawford a piece of paper with the number for the Pacific Tsunami
Warning Center written on it. After a few moments Crawford reported that the
number was busy. The Captain told him to keep trying.

****

Hank Donner was feeling like a real asshole. The man looking
for his family, who somehow knew Hank’s name, and the crewman with him had
caused Hank to put his own frustration in perspective. He looked away from the
shattered poker table, where his dreams of paying for this cruise lay in a
shambles, and took the time to look at the other passengers huddled in the
remains of the casino. They were a wretched group that might have been mistaken
for homeless bums anywhere else. Their clothes, probably quite presentable
earlier in the evening, were sopping wet, many of them were in tatters from
burns or rips. And those were just the people able to sit up. Others moaned and
writhed on the floor. Far too many of the bodies he saw weren’t moving at all.
Hank realized they were probably dead and suddenly appreciated how lucky he was
to still be alive, as well as what an ass he had been earlier.

Hank shook himself out of momentary shock and moved towards
the closest group of injured people in the casino. “Howdy, can I offer you
folks any assistance? Are y’all okay?” Hank said this without realizing how
stupid it would sound.

“Yes, I mean no, we are
not
okay,” replied a man who
was crouched down holding the hand of a woman spread out on the floor next to
him. “My wife was thrown against something and now she can’t move or feel her
legs.”

“Damn, that doesn’t sound good,” Hank replied. “I’d offer to
help get her to the doctor, but I don’t think you should move her.”  

“I know,” the man nodded. “One of the crew said they would
bring medical help here, but it seems to be taking them a long time.”

“Can’t say as I’m surprised,” Hank said. “There’s plenty of
hurting going around on this boat right now. Best to just keep her comfortable
and still until they get here. But I’ll remind them about you folks if I see
the medics.” He backed away and tipped his cowboy hat, which had remained
perched on his head throughout the turmoil of the past hour.

As he moved to the next group of survivors Hank realized that
he looked out of place. After seeing the giant fireball cross the sky through
the sunglasses that he wore even at night, and nearly being deafened by the
shock wave, he had followed the directions of the crew to go downstairs and
ended up in the theater. He avoided being exposed to whatever started all the
fires and had been sitting in a first class booth that didn’t even get wet when
water flooded much of the theater. Seeing the man in the balcony get splattered
by a fireball and others being swept away by flooding was the closest Hank had
come to understanding what those outside the theater had gone through.

Hank’s clothes were still dry and he was dressed for an
evening at the casino, maybe even the disco. He wore a light weight black leather
jacket over a white shirt with black buttons, a black bow tie, black jeans with
a lone star silver belt buckle, and polished black cowboy boots with silver
accents. It was his typical outfit for a night on the town, or anywhere else
that he wanted to display his self-image to the world. The black cowboy hat
that topped it off wasn’t an accessory. It was his persona. He liked to stand
out from the crowd in most situations. The boots added two inches to his six foot
frame and the hat added four more.  His persona was egotistical and grandiose,
at least to most of those who met him. Hank usually liked it that way. Not now.
His unsullied attire stood out from the crowd, proving that he had eluded the
horror that others had endured, or succumbed to.  He lacked the scars earned by
other passengers in their recent tests of fire and water.

Hank paused again, looking for a way to make himself useful,
and spotted a man and woman staggering towards the door. The man seemed to be
supporting the woman, but he didn’t appear to be in much better shape than she
was. Hank hurried to intercept them and said, “Where are you going? Can I help
you?”

The man glanced up at him and said, “Trying to find a doctor
for my wife. It doesn’t look like help will be coming here any time soon.”

“Good call,” Hank agree. “Well, let me help you.” He moved to
the other side of the woman and slipped her arm over his shoulder, taking up
much of her weight by reaching around her back. She winced and let out a little
scream. “What’s wrong? Where are you injured?” Hank asked.

“My ribs and my leg,” she whimpered.

“Oh, sorry,” Hank said, loosening his hold around her back
and side. “Guess I should have asked that first. Okay then, just lean on me and
let me know if you need more support. They told me the Med Center is a couple
floors down on the main stairs.” The man and woman both offered their thanks
and the trio moved slowly out of the casino and through the Martini Bar towards
the atrium. Hank almost dropped his hold on the injured woman when he saw the
carnage ahead of them. The charred and drowned bodies littering their path
brought bile into his throat. A sickly sweet smell that reminded him of a hog
roast in West Texas was almost too much to stomach. Only the salty wind blowing
through the broken windows relieved his olfactory distress.

The couple he was escorting also faltered at the sight and
smell that confronted them, but Hank encouraged them to press on. “Don’t mind
the scenery,” he said. “Sometimes you have to go through hell to find
salvation. The stairs are just ahead.”

****

Lydia reached the main longitudinal crew passageway. It was
nicknamed Broadway because it was the widest corridor aboard, running almost
the entire center of the ship, one deck below the public areas. This was the
fastest way for the crew to get around the ship, as well as deliver supplies
for the bars and restaurants and bring room service meals to the service
elevators. The crew even used electric golf cart type vehicles to move things
along Broadway. One of those electric carts was abandoned and overturned in the
corridor where the “roller coaster ride” over the waves had deposited it.
Broadway itself was also blocked off in both directions by large watertight
doors, but the deck was dry and otherwise clear. Still no sign of any crew, but
there must be a route to higher decks in this isolated section of the ship.  

She spotted a bank of service elevators, but was not
surprised to find them inoperative. It would probably be quite a while before
full power was restored. She wished that the watertight doors along the
corridor would open, but understood why her husband would keep the ship locked
down after what she had just been through. In fact, Lydia had no idea what had
actually happened topside since leading the passengers below from the Resort
Deck. She could only hope that the worst was behind them and that most of the
passengers and crew, especially her husband, had come through it unscathed. 

The Captain’s wife was a strong woman of faith and courage,
but she was physically and emotionally exhausted. The ordeal of being flushed
down a whirlpool, bashed into bulkheads and nearly drowned, not to mention
hanging from a light fixture and struggling to wade through the receding
floodwater, had combined to wear her down. Her uncertainty of what was
happening to the ship, her husband, and others aboard was also a heavy burden.
Lydia moved slowly down the corridor towards the watertight door blocking her
passage. She knocked on the door without much hope of a response. There wasn’t
one.

Turning back her eye caught a red sign on a narrow door that
read “Emergency Bypass Route.” Lydia wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but
figured this qualified as an emergency, so she reached out to open the door.
The handle confused her for a moment, until she realized that it needed to be
turned round and round to disengage the lock, similar to a door on a bank
vault, or the hatch on a submarine. After half a dozen turns the lock disengaged
and the door swung out into the corridor. She looked in and saw a short
passage, not much bigger than a walk-in closet, ending in a similar door. Lydia
now realized what “Emergency Bypass Route” referred to. It was a manual way to
get around the automated watertight doors on Broadway. A red emergency light
illuminated the narrow passage as she stepped into the chamber.

She moved quickly to the other door and tried to open it, but
the handle wouldn’t budge. Her hopes were dashed for a moment, until she saw
another sign, complete with cartoon diagram that read, “Both doors must be
closed and secure before opening.” Now it made sense. This compartment was like
an airlock to get around the main watertight doors. She went back and closed
the door she had entered, spinning the handle to secure it. When she returned
to the other door she found that the handle now turned freely. However, even
when she thought it was fully unlocked, she couldn’t push it open. There was a
small window mounted in each of the doors, not much bigger than a peephole.
Lydia pressed her face up to it and sighed with despair. On the other side of
the door she could see water churning along Broadway. It was only about waist
high, but the weight of the water was keeping the bypass door firmly sealed in
place. Lydia sank down to sit in the tight space with her back against the door
and finally allowed her fear and frustration to escape in a series of tearful
sobs.

 ****

Armando followed orders and headed down towards the Medical
Center, but the Captain hadn’t told him what specific route to take. So Armando
used his own initiative to follow the path of the flaming rock that had
penetrated the ship. He used a nearby crew stairwell and came out briefly on
each deck to check for signs of a major fire.  Every deck had at least some
smoke in the passageway, as well as evidence of recent flooding, but he didn’t
encounter any of the raging fires he had feared. On deck 8 he saw a fire crew,
fully suited with respirators, extinguishing a blaze in the inside cabin where
Armando projected the fireball would have passed. It proved that the Captain
and crew really did have a handle on this threat. That eased Armando’s worries
considerably.

Between Decks 5 and 6 he encountered another crewman going up
the stairs. The Asian man stopped and said, “Armando? Is that you?”