“But you can’t be certain it will work, is that right?”
He stared at me. The smile was gone. “Chase, I think I understand what this is about. And I believe I can save us both some time. No, to answer your question, in a matter like this, there is no absolute certainty. But we have the next best thing. JoAnn has passed me some data, and some after-the-fact speculation that is very helpful. I don’t think there is any realistic reason to be worried.”
“Robert, walking through that dead place picturing what happened to JoAnn and Nick was possibly the worst experience of my life.” That was, of course, a lie since at the time I had no idea what had happened to them. “I cannot imagine what it would be like to condemn almost three thousand people to that kind of death. Please don’t do this.”
“I need to cut this short. Let me ask you a question: If you were here with us, what would you want me to do? Provide you an almost certain ticket home? Or back off and cause you to lose another five years of life with your friends and family?”
I guess I stared back while I fumbled for a reply. “I—”
He waited. Then: “I guess that’s clear enough, Chase. Maybe we’ll have a chance to talk again sometime.”
He blinked off. And John was back, glaring out of the screen at me. “Well done, Chase,” he said. “If he kills everybody, it’s on your head.”
It left me in a rage. I sat there staring at the mike, rehearsing what I would say to John Kraus when I called him back. How in hell had this become my call? I was still fuming over it, trying to figure out what I wanted to say, when Belle told me John was on the circuit again.
“Tell him I’m busy,” I said.
“I think you should take it, Chase.”
Why not? I had a few things to say to him anyhow. Might as well get them said.
John’s face appeared on-screen. “I’m sorry, Chase. That wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have put you into that position.” The lips softened into a smile. “I apologize.”
“It’s okay.” It’s all I could say.
“I owe you.”
“You know,” I said, “no matter what I told him, Dyke wasn’t going to change his mind.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I hope so, John. Because at the moment, it’s the only thing keeping me sane.”
Another general broadcast came in: First a voice we didn’t recognize: “We are on approach, John. Will rendezvous in about twenty minutes.”
“Glad to hear it, Bark. Capella has opened its cargo hold.”
“The reference,” said Belle, “is to Bark Peters, captain of the Sadie Randall.”
“Bark,” said John, “I have estimated time to transfer lifeboats as approximately three hours. Has there been any change?”
“Negative that.”
“And you have forty-four boats?”
“Confirmed.”
“All right. The three hours will take you right up to, and maybe a little past, the projected Capella departure. You have no wiggle room.”
“I’m aware of that, John.”
“One other thing: Be careful. Break off at the first sign of instability. We don’t want you getting pulled down, too.”
“I’ll take care of it, John. You can leave the details to me.”
He didn’t sound very flexible.
“Okay. Have it your way, Bark. FYI, we also have a yacht closing. The Mary Lou Eisner will arrive within minutes after you guys do.”
“I hope,” I said, “it’s not another Mute.”
“The Mary Lou Eisner?” said Belle. “That seems unlikely.”
“I was kidding. What’s its capacity?”
“Nine people.”
“We could do better.”
“It would be close.”
“There are—what?—two more coming in after that?”
“Yes. The Shang-Chi and the Morrison. They’re about an hour apart. Both small, so they won’t be able to take many.”
“At least they’ll be in and out quickly.”
We were getting pictures from the Randall as they approached. “I have a question for you, Belle,” I said.
“Okay.”
“Who was Belle-Marie?”
“Her last name was McKeown. She was one of Gabe’s girlfriends. A special one.”
“What happened to her? They never married?”
“No. She walked away from him.”
“She walked away from Gabe?”
“Yes. Damaged him emotionally, I believe.”
“And he named his new yacht for her?”
“I thought it was strange, too. Why do you pay tribute to somebody who discards you? He could have called it the Giddy-Up or something. But he told me she never knew about it.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Gabe was, is, kind of tough on the surface, but down under all the manly stuff, he’s pretty sentimental.”
“Did you ever meet her? Belle-Marie McKeown?”
“Yes. I have it from others who saw her that she looked good. I do not normally develop emotional reactions to people. Certainly not based on their appearance. But I will confess that I never cared for her.”
“Because of the way she treated Gabe?”
“No. I didn’t like her before that happened. I’m not sure I can give you a reason. She was a bit distant. I think Gabe always realized he wasn’t going to be able to hold on to her, but he stayed with it as long as he could.”
Bark Peters came back: “John, we are pulling alongside the Capella now. Lifeboats will be on the move in three minutes.”
Forty-one
It is ironic that we do not remember who invented the camera. No human creation so deeply impacts our lives as this, which allows us to capture permanently the images of those who have gone before. Those we love may pass out of this world, but their faces, and the moments we shared with them, are forever ours.
Bark Peters provided close-up pictures of the lifeboat packages as they were sent one by one out of the Randall’s storage compartments. Twin jets were attached to the packages. Two crew members in green-and-white jet-assisted pressure suits traveled with each unit. They guided it across a gap of about forty meters into the Capella’s cargo hold, where some of the cruise ship’s people corralled it and took it into whatever open space they had available.
An additional four members of the Randall’s crew, with jetpacks, served as wingmen, hovering between the two ships, lending a hand where necessary. It was an efficient process, but it was slow. They lost control of one package, and two of the wingmen had to chase it down. On another occasion, one of the Capella’s people, apparently not paying attention, got clobbered by an incoming unit and had to be taken inside the ship.