He approached the cabin door, and forced the negative feelings aside. The situation existed. Now he had to put all of his effort into resolving it. He reached out and tapped three times.
Miss Matsuo answered straight away.
“Oh, Captain Noah. Another nice surprise. Please, come in.”
“Thank you.” He entered the tiny cabin. In his mind’s eye, he could see Erica, back in the corner, carefully examining the many books that were neatly stacked.
“How can I help today? You have more symbols? Perhaps something to explain explosion?” Miss Matsuo clasped her hands together and tilted her head as she spoke.
“No, not symbols. I’m here for rather a different purpose. I seem to remember you have some cameras? And a computer?”
She looked towards the bedside cabinet. “Yes. A little hobby of mine. I know it is cliché, yes? Japanese tourist with camera? I love to take pictures.”
“Does your computer have software to manipulate the pictures you take?”
“You mean Photoshop? Yes. My father say it is cheating. He says computer destroys authenticity of a scene, removes truth. I say it removes trees that grow from people’s head!”
Jake smiled at the young lady. “So you know how to alter pictures?”
“Yes. I take course at college. Very good teacher.”
“Could you, for example, take a picture of a boat that’s nearby, and make it look like it was a long way away?”
She paused, considering the question. “Yes, I think so. It is simple to cut out boat, replace it with sea, and put boat back smaller.”
“Miss Matsuo, you could be about to save some very young lives. Please, I need you to come with me. Bring your cameras and your computer. We have very little time.”
• • •
Russell Vardy insisted that Lucya pay a visit to the medical suite before embarking on the ambitious plan. She left Martin working out the finer points of dismantling the air-conditioning system, and took the fastest route to deck five.
The inner door to the treatment room was open when she arrived. Vardy made no attempt to hide the two men laid out inside, both submariners. Captain Coote was out cold, a drip feeding fluid into his body via a bulky and uncomfortable-looking connection on his arm. It seemed strange, seeing him out of uniform. Stripped of his booming voice and equally large personality, he was somehow more ordinary, more vulnerable.
McNair, on the other hand, was awake, although under a heavy dose of painkillers. Carrie fussed around him, constantly asking if he was comfortable, and if she could make him more comfortable. He seemed to be enjoying the attention. Lucya imagined it made a change from being cooped up in a tin can full of testosterone.
His legs had been set in plaster, still wet. There was strapping on much of the rest of his body too.
“Hey, McNair. How are you?”
“Lucya.” He spoke only in a whisper. “It’s not that bad, not really. It’s mostly just cuts and bruises.” He screwed up his face as he spoke.
“Really? Because I’ve never seen anyone folded into the position you were in. Well, there was this contortionist once, at the circus. Have you ever been to a Russian circus?”
“Funnily enough, no.”
“You really sh— It’s a shame you never had the chance.”
He smiled, kindly, letting the slip of the tongue pass. “Any news on this torpedo? Vardy isn’t saying much. Too busy with some new secret project.”
“You mean he hasn’t told you?”
“No, he hasn’t,” Vardy said behind her. “And now’s not the time. Miss Levin, if you don’t mind? We need to get you prepared.”
McNair rolled his eyes, and winked at Lucya. “See you later. Come and visit. Bring grapes.”
“Yeah, right!”
Vardy turned to the nurse. “Carrie, as soon as you’re done here, can you get down to the classroom? We need a continuous medical presence down there in case anything happens.”
The nurse nodded, and carried on fussing around the injured helmsman.
Lucya followed Vardy back to the outer of the two rooms. He indicated a chair; she sat. He closed the door, hanging a Closed sign outside.
“First things first. Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? You are aware of the risks?”
“Sure. I’m going to get the virus. I’ve had it before. Most of us have.”
“Not this variety you haven’t. I told you, it’s a killer. If Jake can’t find the Ambush and get the antidote, you will almost certainly die. I can start making more here, while you’re gone, but realistically there’s no chance of getting it ready before you’re killed.”
“Right. Giving it to me straight. That’s good, I appreciate it. Will the virus harm the children?”
“No. That I am absolutely sure of. I’ve run extensive tests using clean blood samples from ages four right up to seventeen. There is no risk. I know I’ve been wrong about this virus before, but I am positive they are in no danger. I wouldn’t even contemplate trying this if I wasn’t certain.”
“Great. So load me up with the antidote, and let’s get on with it. The clock is ticking.”
Vardy looked apprehensive. He stood up and turned away from her slightly, studying an almost entirely blank dry-wipe board. “It’s not the antidote. You remember how this works? I have to give you immunosuppressives. They’ll slow your immune system. It will slow down the virus, that’s all.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever. They stop me getting sick.”
“No! Quite the opposite.” He turned to face her, his expression grim. “They’ll stop the virus killing you, but they’ll also stop your body from attacking any other foreign agents. Any germs, bacteria, any kind of infection that might be lurking in that ventilation pipe, your body won’t be able to fight off as effectively as it should. If you so much as scratch yourself, you could catch God knows what.”
Lucya raised her eyebrows. “Okay. But I’m not going to die, am I? I mean, all those things can be treated, when I get out?”
The doctor sat down again, put his hands on her knees, then thought better of it and folded his arms across his chest instead. “Until the virus has been eradicated, we can’t risk any other treatments. And you should also know, these immunosuppresives? They carry a risk of bringing about cardiac arrest. Normally they’re used in conjunction with a cocktail of other drugs to stop that happening, but we don’t have time.”
“You used them on everyone a month ago.”
“We had no choice.”
“Nobody died of a heart attack, did they?”
“Officially, no. But I suspect they contributed to the death of one passenger.”
“I’ll take the odds.” She rolled up the sleeve on her left arm. “Come on, Doc, load me up.”
He sighed. “Just as long as you know this isn’t going to be an easy ride. In fact, I’d say you’re probably going to go through hell.”
Lucya said nothing, just thrust her bare arm under his nose and stared at him.
Twenty-Six
THE MAN CAME up close to the door. He brought a child with him, his insurance policy. Not Erica this time, but a boy. A damp stain had appeared on the child’s inside leg, and his eyes streamed with tears. Jake didn’t know his name, and his guilt was all the heavier for that fact.
“Give. Under door.” The man looked from the window to the floor, his eyes a poor substitute for a free hand. “See closer.”
Jake nodded. He understood. He took a step back and peeled the sheet of paper from the small square pane of glass set into the wooden door, then crouched and slipped it underneath, giving a push as he let go.