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the engines full reverse. Shallow water barely foamed around the propellers. Engineer Pascal reported maximum revs from the turbines, but somehow the power was not reaching the water.
    After watching the helpless frothing of the propellers, the captain and engineer faced each other.
    â€œWhat do you mean power is not reaching the screws?” Viega demanded.
    â€œJust that, Alessandro! How many times must I say it? The engines are running, but power is not reaching the screws, just as it is not reaching the ship’s dynamos.”
    They were stuck, and when night fell, there would be no electricity. Furious, Viega ordered water pumped to the high side of the ship, to counteract the list. The pumps worked for a short while, then the flow of seawater petered out. Captain Viega stamped the deck and cursed.
    Finally Mrs. Ellis, the oldest person on board, made the suggestion no one wanted to hear.
    â€œCaptain, should we abandon ship?”
    Viega stared at her. “Why, madame? To go where?”
    She indicated the mysterious land with a nod of her head.
    â€œThe ship is intact! We will stay on board!”
    â€œFor how long, Captain? All communications are out. We have no power.”
    â€œWe have food and water for weeks!”
    â€œFood will spoil without refrigeration. And how will we get to the water without pumps?” said the old lady.
    â€œWhat is out there?” the captain countered. “Do you know? I have no idea.”
    â€œIt’s dry land. I see trees growing, so there must be water. Maybe there are people out there who can help us.”
    The captain looked ready to weep. “It is impossible! There is no land in the North Atlantic!”
    â€œThen we must be far off course,” said France. The land they saw must be the south or west coast of Ireland.
    Captain Viega curtly cut off any suggestion of abandoning ship. The
Carleton
was sound, he said. Depending on the tide, they might yet float free.

Chapter 7
    There’s no night like night without electric light. Two hundred years of artificial light made people forget how profound darkness can be.
    No sunset warned the
Carleton
. The peculiar gray-white atmosphere simply lost light. Almost before anyone realized it, shadows had grown so long, it was hard to see. The crew broke out battery-powered lanterns. They worked—for a short time. Within minutes their beams began to go orange, lose power, and fade. All the lanterns had come from recharging wall brackets. There was no reason they should all fail so quickly.
    Captain Viega ordered the use of hurricane lamps. These burned butane. There were only a dozen on board, and most of them went to the bridge and engine room. The passenger lounge got just two. The remaining four were hung on the ship’s bow, stern, and masts, in case another ship came along in the night.
    Something about darkness made people speak in hushed tones. The younger children went to sleep wedged in place on the slanting deck. The stewards distributed what food could be salvaged from the now useless kitchen.
    On the boat deck, France heard a crinkle of paper. He was lying on his back gazing up at the sky. Hearing the crackle, he smelled the soft, buttery aroma of chocolate.
    â€œEmile?”
    He was standing a meter away, one arm hooked on the rail. Emile unwrapped one of his family’s chocolate bars, brought it to his mouth, but stopped short. He couldn’t eat it. Hungry as he was, he hated chocolate so much, he couldn’t make himself bite the bar.
    â€œHere,” he said in French, tossing the chocolate at France.
    The hefty bar landed on his chest. France caught it before it slid off.
    â€œ
Merci.
How many of these do you have?”
    â€œThey’re not mine,” Emile replied. “There are cartons of them in the ship’s store.”
    France took a bite. Crisp without being too hard, it melted like butter on his tongue.
    â€œWhy do you hate your family’s