of a fluttering Union flag and a
list of refuge centres.
'It's
been that way for days,' said Sian. 'The refuge list doesn't update. I suppose
the studio has been evacuated. We'll be watching that image until the satellite
fails.'
'Are
there no other channels?'
'North
America is totally off air. All the Russian and Euro channels are long gone.'
'Jesus.'
'See
that BBC logo in the corner? I like to look at it. It's comforting. A last
little piece of home.'
'I
killed my best friend to get here,' said Simon. 'And I'm just as stuck as
before.'
'We've
got heat, we've got light, we've got food for months. Look around you. This rig
is one giant construction set. It's packed full of survival equipment. I promise
you, one way or another, we will get you home. We'll get everyone home.'
Rye
changed Simon's dressings. She unwrapped his right hand. The smell of necrotic
flesh made Sian want to retch.
Sian
sat on the edge of the bed. She wanted to distract Simon from the sight of his
rotted hand.
'So
what's the first thing you will do when you get home?'
'Fuck
knows. Doesn't sound like there is much waiting for us. And what can I do? I'll
probably never use a knife and fork again. I'll have to lap food from a bowl
like a dog.'
'You're
exhausted, hungry and dehydrated. You get two days' self-pity, all right?
That's your allocation. Wallow. Whine all you want. But after those forty-eight
hours are up, you are officially a malingering twat.'
'I
need a shit.'
'Is
that why you haven't been eating? Worried about using the toilet?'
Sian
lowered the bed and helped Simon stand. He shuffled to the bathroom. Sian
helped tug down his pyjama bottoms.
'Call
me when you are done.'
Sian
helped Simon wipe, then walked him back to bed. She found Rye checking the drug
cupboard.
'What
are you giving him for pain?'
'Codeine.
He'll get a couple of cycles. After that, he has to tough it out.' Rye gestured
to the pill packets and bottles. 'We don't have much of anything. Once his
share is used up, he's on his own.'
Jane
knocked on Nikki's door.
'Who
is it?' Nikki sounded groggy. She was probably dozing on her bunk.
'It's
Reverend Blanc. Do you have a moment? I need your help.'
Jane
led Nikki to the observation bubble.
'How
have you been?' asked Jane, as they climbed the spiral stairs.
'Standing
by every heating vent I can find. Just can't seem to get warm.'
Jane
showed her the radio console.
'We've
been trying to hail any passing ship by short-wave. We man the radio round the
clock. We were hoping you could pull a few shifts.'
'What
should I do?'
'Sit
here. Press to transmit, yeah? Kasker Rampart. That's the name of the platform.
So you say something like: "Mayday, mayday. This is refinery platform
Kasker Rampart requesting urgent assistance, over." Then you release the
switch and listen for a reply.'
'Okay.'
'Do
you like Monopoly? We've been holding a tournament.'
Sian
walked Simon to the shower. She set the water running, took Simon's dressing
gown and helped him into the cubicle. She sat on the bed and waited for him to
finish. 'How's Nikki?' he called.
'Seems
okay. They've got her helping out in the radio room.' 'Keep an eye on her. Make
sure she's all right. She seems tough, but she's not. We left Alan to die. She
may act casual, but on some level it will be eating her up.'
'Jane
is looking after her. Jane's good with people. She has an instinct.'
'I'm
done.'
Sian
wrapped Simon in a bath towel and led him from the shower.
Jane
took the elevator down to the docking platform. She found Punch in the
boathouse. The boathouse was a steel cabin with a wide hole in the floor. The
zodiac was suspended above the water by chains. The walls were racked with
survival equipment.
'What's
this?' asked Jane, inspecting a big plastic pod.
'A
weather balloon. Don't mess with it.'
'Maybe
we should build a boat. A raft or something. Give everyone a job. For morale,
if nothing else.'
Punch
had found a golf club. He putted
list of refuge centres.
'It's
been that way for days,' said Sian. 'The refuge list doesn't update. I suppose
the studio has been evacuated. We'll be watching that image until the satellite
fails.'
'Are
there no other channels?'
'North
America is totally off air. All the Russian and Euro channels are long gone.'
'Jesus.'
'See
that BBC logo in the corner? I like to look at it. It's comforting. A last
little piece of home.'
'I
killed my best friend to get here,' said Simon. 'And I'm just as stuck as
before.'
'We've
got heat, we've got light, we've got food for months. Look around you. This rig
is one giant construction set. It's packed full of survival equipment. I promise
you, one way or another, we will get you home. We'll get everyone home.'
Rye
changed Simon's dressings. She unwrapped his right hand. The smell of necrotic
flesh made Sian want to retch.
Sian
sat on the edge of the bed. She wanted to distract Simon from the sight of his
rotted hand.
'So
what's the first thing you will do when you get home?'
'Fuck
knows. Doesn't sound like there is much waiting for us. And what can I do? I'll
probably never use a knife and fork again. I'll have to lap food from a bowl
like a dog.'
'You're
exhausted, hungry and dehydrated. You get two days' self-pity, all right?
That's your allocation. Wallow. Whine all you want. But after those forty-eight
hours are up, you are officially a malingering twat.'
'I
need a shit.'
'Is
that why you haven't been eating? Worried about using the toilet?'
Sian
lowered the bed and helped Simon stand. He shuffled to the bathroom. Sian
helped tug down his pyjama bottoms.
'Call
me when you are done.'
Sian
helped Simon wipe, then walked him back to bed. She found Rye checking the drug
cupboard.
'What
are you giving him for pain?'
'Codeine.
He'll get a couple of cycles. After that, he has to tough it out.' Rye gestured
to the pill packets and bottles. 'We don't have much of anything. Once his
share is used up, he's on his own.'
Jane
knocked on Nikki's door.
'Who
is it?' Nikki sounded groggy. She was probably dozing on her bunk.
'It's
Reverend Blanc. Do you have a moment? I need your help.'
Jane
led Nikki to the observation bubble.
'How
have you been?' asked Jane, as they climbed the spiral stairs.
'Standing
by every heating vent I can find. Just can't seem to get warm.'
Jane
showed her the radio console.
'We've
been trying to hail any passing ship by short-wave. We man the radio round the
clock. We were hoping you could pull a few shifts.'
'What
should I do?'
'Sit
here. Press to transmit, yeah? Kasker Rampart. That's the name of the platform.
So you say something like: "Mayday, mayday. This is refinery platform
Kasker Rampart requesting urgent assistance, over." Then you release the
switch and listen for a reply.'
'Okay.'
'Do
you like Monopoly? We've been holding a tournament.'
Sian
walked Simon to the shower. She set the water running, took Simon's dressing
gown and helped him into the cubicle. She sat on the bed and waited for him to
finish. 'How's Nikki?' he called.
'Seems
okay. They've got her helping out in the radio room.' 'Keep an eye on her. Make
sure she's all right. She seems tough, but she's not. We left Alan to die. She
may act casual, but on some level it will be eating her up.'
'Jane
is looking after her. Jane's good with people. She has an instinct.'
'I'm
done.'
Sian
wrapped Simon in a bath towel and led him from the shower.
Jane
took the elevator down to the docking platform. She found Punch in the
boathouse. The boathouse was a steel cabin with a wide hole in the floor. The
zodiac was suspended above the water by chains. The walls were racked with
survival equipment.
'What's
this?' asked Jane, inspecting a big plastic pod.
'A
weather balloon. Don't mess with it.'
'Maybe
we should build a boat. A raft or something. Give everyone a job. For morale,
if nothing else.'
Punch
had found a golf club. He putted
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