“Dr. Vandermer wants me to repeat the amniocentesis immediately,” said Jennifer.
“If he thinks there is a chance you might want to consider an abortion, then I think you should do it. Your mother and I don’t believe that a severely defective child should be brought into this world. It’s not fair to anyone, including the child. But that’s just the way we feel.”
“I suppose I feel the same way,” said Jennifer. “It just makes me feel so bad.”
Mr. Carson gave his daughter a squeeze. “Of course, honey. And your husband isn’t making things any easier. I don’t like to make judgments, but I don’t appreciate the way he is acting. He should be here helping make these decisions, not gallivanting off on some mysterious trip.”
They reached the screen door at the back of the house. They could hear Mrs. Carson in the kitchen, preparing dinner.
“You’re probably right,” said Jennifer, opening the door. “I’ll call Dr. Vandermer and have the amniocentesis repeated tomorrow.”
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Dinner is now being served.”
Adam woke from a sound sleep, and it took him several minutes to realize that the voice was coming from a small speaker in the wall of the cabin. He looked at his watch. It was nine o’clock.
Struggling to his feet, Adam felt the ship rolling as well as pitching. The idea of dinner wasn’t all that appealing. He took a quick shower, trying to maintain his balance, then dressed and left the cabin. He paused a minute and knocked on Alan’s door, but there was no answer. Either the man was still asleep or he had already gone to dinner. In either case, it wasn’t any of Adam’s business.
He noticed the ship’s store was open and went in to buy Dramamine, but the man behind the counter said they were out and would have to wait until morning to get more from the storeroom. Disappointed, Adam made his way to the dining room, where a steward asked if he was an obstetrician or an orthopedist. Adam told him OB and the steward led him to a table near the speaker’s platform.
There were five other doctors already seated. Adam was so busy remembering that his name was Stuart, he only caught two of his companions’ names during the introductions: Ted and Archibald.
The conversation was almost exclusively medical, although more about the profession’s economics than its practice.
Adam said little, preoccupied with his queasy stomach. As soon as he could, he motioned for the steward to remove his plate, wondering how the others could ignore the rolling motion of the ship. After coffee was served, a tall, dark man mounted the speaker’s platform.
“Hello, hello,” he said, testing the microphone. “My name is Raymond Powell, and I am your official MTIC host. Welcome to the Arolen Pharmaceuticals Medical Conference Cruise.”
Conversation ceased as people turned their attention to the podium. Powell gave a typical welcoming speech and then handed the microphone to Dr. Goddard, who was in charge of the actual medical program.
When Goddard finished speaking, Powell stepped back to the microphone and said, “And now we have a surprise. For your enjoyment, let me present the Caribbean Dancers.”
Doors on either side of the speaker’s platform burst open and a dozen scantily clad dancers swept into the room. Adam noticed only two men. The rest were unusually pretty young girls. Behind the dancers was a rock group with electric guitars. This band quickly set up speakers on the plaform.
As the girls worked the audience, Adam saw that Powell and Goddard were standing to one side as if trying to assess the effect of the dancers on the usually restrained medical group. After a few minutes Adam found his attention held by a particularly attractive brunette. She had narrow hips and firm, upstanding breasts. She caught Adam’s eye for just a moment and he could have sworn that she winked at him. Unfortunately, Adam’s stomach was not cooperative, and in the middle of the performance, Adam reluctantly decided that he’d better visit the deck.
Excusing himself, he fought his way through the boisterous crowd in more and more of a hurry to get away. He barely reached the rail of the promenade deck before his stomach turned over and he vomited violently over the side. After a minute he glanced around to check if anyone had seen him. Thankfully, the deck was deserted. Lowering his eyes, he inspected the front of his shirt. It was clean. Relieved, Adam wandered forward into the wind. He wasn’t ready to go below yet.
After a few minutes he felt a little better, and when he reached the door forbidden to passengers, he simply opened it and walked through. The lights were scarcer in this part of the ship and the deck was a plain unvarnished gray. Adam walked all the way to the bow and looked down on a tangle of ropes and chains. The sea leaped and twisted on either side. The starry sky stretched out above him.
A hand suddenly fell on Adam’s shoulder.
“This is an unauthorized area,” said a man with a Spanish accent.
“I’m sorry,” said Adam nervously, trying to make out the man’s face. “This is my first cruise and I was just wandering around. Any chance of visiting the bridge?” Adam remembered the adage that the best defense was offense.
“Are you stoned?” asked the man.
“Me?” said Adam, taken aback. “No. I’m fine.”
“No offense,” said the man, “but we’ve had some bad experiences with passengers in the past. The captain happens to be on the bridge. I’ll see if he’ll let you up.”
After asking for Adam’s name, the man disappeared as silently as he’d arrived. A moment later a voice shouted down, inviting him up. There was a ladder to starboard.
Adam walked around the side and found a stairway. He guessed that on a ship a ladder and a stairway were the same thing. At the top, the man with the Spanish accent was holding open the door to the bridge.
Inside, Adam saw that the instruments were illuminated by red lights, giving the room a surrealistic air. The man at the wheel ignored Adam’s presence, but another man stood up and introduced himself as Captain Eric Nordstrom. He seemed younger than Adam would have expected and, at first, seemed rather wary of his guest.
“José said this is your first cruise, Dr. Smyth.”
“That’s right,” said Adam uneasily, remembering that Smyth had already been on an Arolen cruise. The captain made no comment, and Adam asked, “Who owns the ship?”
“I’m not sure,” said Nordstrom. “The crew works for a company called MTIC. Whether they own the ship or lease it, I don’t really know.”
“Is MTIC a good employer?”
Captain Nordstrom shrugged. “We get our paychecks on time. It’s a bit boring running the same route over and over, and socializing with this crew has its limitations.”
“Don’t you get to meet the passengers?” asked Adam.
“Never,” said Captain Nordstrom. “MTIC is strict about keeping the passengers and the ship’s crew from fraternizing. You’re the first person I’ve had on the bridge in a long time. We’ve had some unfortunate experiences with the passengers getting drunk.”
Adam nodded. If the amount of alcohol that the doctors had consumed tonight was any indication, he wasn’t surprised.
Away from the sea breeze, the pitching of the ship began to bother Adam again, and he decided to say good-bye.
“José, accompany Dr. Smyth back to the passenger section,” said Captain Nordstrom.
José moved quickly, preceding Adam out the door. He went down the steep ladder, oblivious to the movement of the ship. Adam followed but much more cautiously.
“In a day or so you’ll have your sea legs,” said José with a laugh.
Adam wondered.
As they walked aft, José offered some technical details about the ship. Adam nodded dutifully, but most of the terms went over his head. When they got to the barrier, José hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. In the better light Adam could see the man’s face, which was dominated by a luxurious mustache.