Part 9 (1/2)

'Then you admit he needs defending?'

'I admit nothing,' she snapped. 'Tony's within his rights to question the running of the Enterprise. He'd be remiss if he didn't.'

There-he'd done it again! Had her standing up for Tony. Or had she done it to herself? She'd seen nothing to admire in Tony's treatment of Captain Price, either. He'd displayed a side of himself she hadn't known existed. But her need to protect her bruised pride kept her from admitting that to Guy.

Hurrying steps rang out on the inner staircase and Angus Dunn appeared, black with oil and glistening with sweat.

'Luck, Angus?' asked the Master sharply.

'If you want to call it that.' he replied wearily, mopping his brow with a stained rag. 'It's only a guess, sir, but I figure that those waves out there put terrific pressure on the rudder. That pressure was transmitted back through the hydraulic lines-we found a couple of key bolts sheared right off by it!'

'Can you fix it?' asked Patrick.

'We've already jury-rigged something. You should have control back now.'

Orders were given at once to the helmsman, who performed a series of manoeuvres. The navigation officer double-checked their position and confirmed that the steering mechanism was working again.

'But I don't mind telling you, Captain,' said Angus, 'I don't like it a bit. We're rolling heavily and it's going to get worse before we see daylight. If we blow another fitting, I can't promise I'll have as much luck a second time. It's murder down in the gear compartment-there's oil everywhere. I've already sent two of my men to sick bay with cuts from the falls they've taken.'

Captain Price drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. 'We'll order extra watches, keep our speed as low as we can without losing control... and pray that this thing blows itself out soon. Patrick, order every man not on essential duty to get all the sleep he can. Heaven knows when any of us will see our beds again.'

As Angus turned to leave, Guy pulled him to one side. 'Those bolts that broke off the hydraulic line-could I see them?'

Angus peered at him, his eyes narrowing. 'Sure, Guy. I'll send a man up with them right away.'

Minutes later, a cadet flew up the stairs and presented Guy with a greasy box. Sarah watched as he set it on the chart table and swivelled a light on to it. Frowning, he turned the bolts over and over in his hands. Then, throwing them back into the box, he switched off the light and let himself out on to the flying bridge.

Curious, Sarah went to the table and looked into the box. The bolts were oversized, like everything else on the Enterprise, and they had sharp, smooth planes where they had snapped off their fittings. Otherwise they looked perfectly ordinary. She couldn't imagine what had riveted Guy's attention for so long. She grabbed her parka from its. hook and zipped it hastily.

She found him at the rail, staring out at the storm, his long legs spread wide against the bucking deck. Even in that punis.h.i.+ng wind, she thought, he looked powerful and in control.

She lurched towards him, her hands gripping her hood. 'Guy!' she shouted, and he turned, reached out, and dragged her the last few feet to the rail.

'What are you doing out here? Are you insane?'

'I want to know what's really going on! I don't dare bother anyone in there. Is that repair of Angus's going to hold?'

'What can I say to you, Sarah-we'll just have to pray that it will.'

'But I heard one of the men talking about sounding the alarm for lifeboat stations!'

He shook his head vehemently. 'He was only reviewing what the rule book tells him he should be doing in a situation like this. We're still a long way from having to face that decision. Anyway, it would be a desperation move. Even if we could get the boats away in time, our chances of surviving in the sea are infinitesimal.'

Sarah looked out over the boiling sea. Yes, she thought. Infinitesimal. For a moment she could taste a bitter knot of fear hardening in her throat.

Guy watched her coldly as she absorbed the seriousness of their situation. 'No, it wouldn't be a very nice end.' he said, reading her thoughts. 'What an anticlimax for Tony's glorious adventure!'

'Why must you always a.s.sign blame? Tony didn't cause this storm!'

'And why must you always defend him? No, forget that I asked. I'm sick to death of the merry-go-round you and I are on. I couldn't care less about what you do or why you do it. I used to wonder, but it hardly seems important at a time like this.'

Tears of frustration sprang to Sarah's eyes. It had all turned out so badly. She hadn't wanted it to be like this between them.

He bent down to her, shouting against the wind's howl. 'She's a great s.h.i.+p, and she'll get us through this! You remember that. Now, go below. Stay in your cabin-we don't need you wandering about and getting a leg broken. And keep your life-preserver by the door, just in case. Do you remember your lifeboat station?'

She nodded, pulling back the veil of hair that had whipped across her face.

'Go on,' he said, pus.h.i.+ng her towards the door. 'That's an order!'

She didn't delude herself that his concern for her safety sprang from any feeling for her. No, Guy Court would do as much for anyone. It was simply his duty. As she turned to yank the door shut after her, she took one last look at the waves that loomed like walls above them. Yes, she thought, it had come true. The Arctic Enterprise really was standing into danger.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Dutifully, as if by acting sanely she could impose order on a situation that seemed to be rus.h.i.+ng headlong out of control, Sarah had gone to her cabin. The steward was cheerful and solicitous, leaving words of rea.s.surance along with a tray of sandwiches and hot chocolate, but she was unable to eat.

The dishes did a shuddering dance across the table, jangling her already raw nerves. The deep lunges of the s.h.i.+p, combined with the thrumming vibration of the giant screws made her head throb unbearably and her vision blur. She tottered to the washroom and swallowed the pills the medical officer had delivered. They took the edge off the pain and nausea, but did little to ease her concern.

She slept, but only briefly. A t.i.tanic wave jolted the Enterprise, tossing her almost off her bunk. She struggled upright, rubbing the shoulder that stung painfully from its collision with the bedside table. She switched on the wall light. Four a.m. It was still coal black outside her porthole. Sleep was out, and so was writing.

Cautiously, she padded barefoot to the washroom and splashed cold water on her face. Perhaps if she looked bright and confident, she might feel it, she reasoned. Defiantly she applied make-up and brushed her hair back into the s.h.i.+ning, swinging perfection that was her trademark. In her best cable knit pullover and pants, she wended her way up to the bridge.

They were all there-still. There had been a change in the secondary crew, but Captain Price, Patrick, and Guy stood watch as before, exhaustion ringing their eyes. Guy saw her, showed momentary surprise, then turned his attention wordlessly back to his work. But just that single flas.h.i.+ng glance was enough to make her giddy.

Patrick sat slumped over a pile of charts, cradling one of the many mugs of coffee that had brought him through the night. His smile was wan but welcoming, and Sarah joined him.

'Excuse me for saying this, Patrick,' she said, perching on the stool across from him, 'but you look dreadful. Didn't you get any rest?'

'No,' he laughed, rubbing his palms wearily over his face. 'But that comes with the territory, I'm afraid.'

'There's not much change in the weather, is there?' she noted, looking at the spray-lashed windows. Dawn was beginning to break, staining the horizon a malevolent blood red more suggestive of h.e.l.l than a new day.

She rested her chin on one hand and sighed. 'I wish I could be braver, but frankly, I'm scared silly.'

Patrick grinned and patted her hand. 'Well, you don't look scared silly. In fact, I'll wager you've delighted every bleary pair of eyes on the bridge.'

Not every pair, thought Sarah, glancing at Guy's broad back. 'How's the steering holding up?' she asked, dragging her eyes off him.

Patrick shrugged. 'So far, so good. If we can just hang on another hour... two at the most, I think we'll be home free.'

The outside door slid open, admitting the screaming fury of the wind. A lookout, in oilskins stiff with frozen spray, lurched in, binoculars swinging from his neck. He headed straight for the Captain.

'We picked it up when the light started to break, sir,' she heard him say. 'We're getting wave damage to one of the valve covers near the bow.'

'Are you absolutely certain?'

'As much as we can be. One of the covers seems to be hanging askew, but I couldn't send a man out there for a closer look-it would be sure death, sir.'