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Authors: David Forsyth
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hanging askew. And the other balcony windows that she
could see were dark, gaping holes of jagged glass.
Turning towards the bow, Lydia realized that the bridge wing had
shielded the captain’s quarters, meaning that she and her husband had one of
the few intact balcony staterooms on the ship. Feelings of guilt crept into her
mind when she thought of all the passengers and crew whose cabins and
staterooms were no longer habitable. She knew it was not her fault, and that
she had even played a role in saving many of their lives, but couldn’t help
feeling sorry for those less fortunate. She made a silent vow to dedicate her
efforts in this and coming days to improving living conditions for all the
survivors on this cruise. Then she almost laughed aloud at herself for still
thinking of this voyage as a pleasure cruise. It was no such thing. This cruise
had turned into a disastrous odyssey into the unknown, where even the sun could
no longer be counted upon to rise in the morning. Nevertheless, and regardless
of what happened to the rest of the world, Lydia decided that she must act as
hostess to every survivor aboard the Sedulity and strive to improve their lot in whatever ways possible. Her conviction
firmed as she stepped back inside the plush captain’s quarters and slid the
balcony door closed to shut out the rest of a world she no longer understood.
*****
“Mr. Crawford? Do you have a headcount on surviving
passengers and crew yet?” Captain Krystos asked.
“We can’t be sure if this is a complete list yet, Sir. I sure
hope it isn’t,” the First Officer replied with a frown as he picked up several
sheets of paper. “We’ve accounted for nineteen hundred and fifty-three
surviving passengers. Twelve hundred and twenty-three of them are in the theater.
Four hundred and thirteen are in, or near, the medical center with serious
injuries and burns. One hundred and sixty have been located by cabin stewards
in their staterooms, mostly in the inside cabins. The remainder have been found
sitting or wandering around the rest of the ship, many of them injured or in
shock.”
“Less than two thousand?” the captain asked with a heavy
voice. “So we’ve lost more than a thousand.”
“Yes, Sir,” Crawford said, “but we might have missed some in
the headcount. Things are still quite hectic. Some people might be sheltering, trapped, or
injured in compartments we haven’t had time to reach yet. The cabin stewards
are conducting a more systematic search of the whole ship now.”
“How many of the crew survived? And how many of those are
able-bodied?”
“Out of the fourteen hundred and eighty-eight crew, we have
accounted for nine hundred and twenty-five survivors, including those of us
here on the bridge. Three hundred and ninety of them have been relieved of duty
due to injuries, mostly burns and broken bones.”
“Dear God,” the captain
murmured. “So we’ve lost a third of our passengers and close to two-thirds of
the crew are either dead, missing, or badly injured. Is that about right, Mr.
Crawford?”
“Yes, Sir. Those numbers may improve as we continue
searching, and more of the crew will be fit for duty again soon, but we will
also lose more of the injured. We don’t have the medical facilities, staff, or
supplies needed to treat this many casualties effectively. Fifty-six of the
injured have already been triaged as terminal and won’t make it through the
day.”
“I understand,” Captain Krystos said with a heavy heart. “Do
you have any firm numbers on the dead and missing?”
“We have a preliminary body count, Sir. Seven hundred and
forty-four confirmed fatalities have been reported. We can’t give an exact
breakdown between passengers and crew because some of the bodies are too badly
burned to be identified. That leaves about a thousand people missing. I suspect
we’ll discover more bodies as we clear away wreckage and search the flooded
areas below-decks, hopefully more
could see were dark, gaping holes of jagged glass.
Turning towards the bow, Lydia realized that the bridge wing had
shielded the captain’s quarters, meaning that she and her husband had one of
the few intact balcony staterooms on the ship. Feelings of guilt crept into her
mind when she thought of all the passengers and crew whose cabins and
staterooms were no longer habitable. She knew it was not her fault, and that
she had even played a role in saving many of their lives, but couldn’t help
feeling sorry for those less fortunate. She made a silent vow to dedicate her
efforts in this and coming days to improving living conditions for all the
survivors on this cruise. Then she almost laughed aloud at herself for still
thinking of this voyage as a pleasure cruise. It was no such thing. This cruise
had turned into a disastrous odyssey into the unknown, where even the sun could
no longer be counted upon to rise in the morning. Nevertheless, and regardless
of what happened to the rest of the world, Lydia decided that she must act as
hostess to every survivor aboard the Sedulity and strive to improve their lot in whatever ways possible. Her conviction
firmed as she stepped back inside the plush captain’s quarters and slid the
balcony door closed to shut out the rest of a world she no longer understood.
*****
“Mr. Crawford? Do you have a headcount on surviving
passengers and crew yet?” Captain Krystos asked.
“We can’t be sure if this is a complete list yet, Sir. I sure
hope it isn’t,” the First Officer replied with a frown as he picked up several
sheets of paper. “We’ve accounted for nineteen hundred and fifty-three
surviving passengers. Twelve hundred and twenty-three of them are in the theater.
Four hundred and thirteen are in, or near, the medical center with serious
injuries and burns. One hundred and sixty have been located by cabin stewards
in their staterooms, mostly in the inside cabins. The remainder have been found
sitting or wandering around the rest of the ship, many of them injured or in
shock.”
“Less than two thousand?” the captain asked with a heavy
voice. “So we’ve lost more than a thousand.”
“Yes, Sir,” Crawford said, “but we might have missed some in
the headcount. Things are still quite hectic. Some people might be sheltering, trapped, or
injured in compartments we haven’t had time to reach yet. The cabin stewards
are conducting a more systematic search of the whole ship now.”
“How many of the crew survived? And how many of those are
able-bodied?”
“Out of the fourteen hundred and eighty-eight crew, we have
accounted for nine hundred and twenty-five survivors, including those of us
here on the bridge. Three hundred and ninety of them have been relieved of duty
due to injuries, mostly burns and broken bones.”
“Dear God,” the captain
murmured. “So we’ve lost a third of our passengers and close to two-thirds of
the crew are either dead, missing, or badly injured. Is that about right, Mr.
Crawford?”
“Yes, Sir. Those numbers may improve as we continue
searching, and more of the crew will be fit for duty again soon, but we will
also lose more of the injured. We don’t have the medical facilities, staff, or
supplies needed to treat this many casualties effectively. Fifty-six of the
injured have already been triaged as terminal and won’t make it through the
day.”
“I understand,” Captain Krystos said with a heavy heart. “Do
you have any firm numbers on the dead and missing?”
“We have a preliminary body count, Sir. Seven hundred and
forty-four confirmed fatalities have been reported. We can’t give an exact
breakdown between passengers and crew because some of the bodies are too badly
burned to be identified. That leaves about a thousand people missing. I suspect
we’ll discover more bodies as we clear away wreckage and search the flooded
areas below-decks, hopefully more
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