Life Goes On by Tayell, Frank (large ebook reader txt) 📗

About fifty years old, her clipped hair was salted at the temples, and peppered on the crown. Around one-point-eight metres tall, thin waisted, broad shouldered, well toned, and with a cobweb of shrapnel scar tissue running up her right arm.

“Tess Qwong. Kia ora. Didn’t know warships had gyms.”

“Gotta stay fit,” Adams said. “I’m supposed to get ten minutes a day for rehab, but chucking crates is not the same as three rounds in the ring.”

“You’re a boxer?” Tess asked.

“I was. I started an inter-ship tournament when I took command. Do you know what happened the same day we had our first bout? Manhattan. I’m not as superstitious as some sailors, but my gloves will stay in my locker until we’re back in home-port.”

“Me, I’m a reluctant runner,” Tess said. She tapped her hip. “Stab-wound, a few years back. I’m supposed to clock up a gentle five-k every other day. Now, it’s too often a gruelling hike. What is all this gear?”

“Salvage from the ships which were here before us,” Adams said. “As are thirty members of our crew. I’ve swapped some of mine onto the diesel freighters. Lost a few to suicide. Only one to action.” She lifted the lid of the box. “Rope. More rope. Useful, but weight is fuel. Weight is speed. Weight is time.” She put the lid back on the box and crossed to a triple-stack of crates piled on the treadmill. On the lid of the topmost box were a tablet, a flask, and two glasses. “We’re three months out of a major refit, on a shakedown, and two weeks overdue for our return to home-port. Our orders were to protect the refugees. They have not been countermanded. Did you hear about the civil war?”

“No? Where?” Tess asked.

“At sea. Some are calling it piracy. Ships attacked one another. Understandable in the chaos. We saved who we could, and what supplies we could, but we’re still figuring out what we picked up. We’re over-stocked on munitions, but I’ve offloaded most of the medical supplies, and food, to the convoy. Tea? It’s cold.”

“Iced tea?” Tess said, taking a glass. “Good on ya.”

“It’s powdered,” Adams said. “We’re out of coffee. But we have this in abundance. Salvaged from a food-freighter. We unloaded four shipping containers before she went down. Sadly, we found no real tea, but this’ll do in a squeeze. I spoke with your scientists when they came aboard. Dr Smilovitz gave me a general understanding of your mission. Dr Avalon just gave me a headache.”

“She has that effect,” Tess said.

“Can she really build a weapon to destroy the undead?” Adams asked. “It seems too good to be true.”

“We’ve no reason to disbelieve her,” Tess said. “We canvassed some of the staff at the university in Canberra, and they confirmed she is as good as she says she is. Those two worked for the U.N. eliminating bio-chemical threats to the world before the outbreak.”

“And they want to go to Colombia in search of the lab where it was made, or to New York to find patient zero?” Adams asked.

“They say it would help reduce development time,” Tess said.

“To think that this nightmare could end is simply too distracting. I want to believe it, but I don’t dare let myself.”

“Tell me about it,” Tess said.

“I do want to assist you,” Adams said. “However, it would be stretching our capabilities. As I say, we’re three months out of an austerity-refit. The majority of our systems were downgraded. We run solely on diesel now. That’s reduced our top speed, but increased our range. Even so, depending on weight and weather, our fuel tanks will run dry at seven thousand nautical miles.”

“What’s that in land-speak?” Tess asked.

“Thirteen thousand kilometres. From here to Cape Town is nearly three thousand kilometres. The Guajira Peninsula in Colombia is twelve thousand kilometres from Cape Town.”

“And the Panama Canal is another two thousand kilometres from there,” Tess said. “Hopefully, that’ll be our way home, if the scientists could find what they need in Colombia.”

“The canal was blocked,” Adams said. “I’ve had three separate reports confirming it, though none were first-hand. It’s unlikely we’ll be able to force a passage through that water-route. If we can’t refuel in Cape Town, we can’t go any further.”

“What about the two fuel-freighters here?” Tess asked.

“I’m sending them back to Australia. As I understand it, we’ve only got two other bulk fuel-transport ships in the entire Pacific. I’ll risk my crew to save these tens of thousands in Africa, but those ships are needed to supply the hospital generators for every island in the Pacific. We’re sailing alone to Cape Town. If we can refuel there, we’d only be able to travel westward for half our range. To continue on to Colombia, we’d first have to refuel on Ascension Island, and despite that island’s scientific work, it was primarily a military base. Why should it have survived when so many others were targeted? There’s no other circumstance you’d hear me say this about my command, but this is the wrong ship for the mission, Commissioner.”

“It’s the only ship we’ve got,” Tess said. “We can’t fly, because we don’t know of any runways. We can’t parachute out over the target because the whole point is to get any research we find back to Oz. I could put the scientists on a plane, but it would only take them to Rodrigues. It could be another two days before we get back to Perth, and who knows how long before we find another ship? At least you’re travelling in the right direction.”

“My orders are to protect the refugees,” Adams said. “The refugees are now heading in convoy to Cape Town, and so will we. If I had the range to reach Colombia, I would strongly consider making the voyage, but running adrift off the coast of Brazil helps