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‘Do you mean the ship is entirely out of touch?’

‘I expect so, yeah.’

‘There’s something suspicious about this!’ says Methúsalem, his eyes going cold. ‘Two days before we mean to stop the engines we lose all contact. Which means the Old Man can’t phone the company when the time comes to get them to abandon their plans to lay us all off.’

‘What do you mean?’ asks John anxiously.

‘They’ve discovered our plan,’ Methúsalem declares, taking a deep breath through distended nostrils. ‘This is their way of disarming us, the fuckers!’

‘Are you saying the Old Man is lying about this? You can’t be saying he had those instruments disconnected. That’s just impossible!’

‘All’s fair in love and war,’ says Methúsalem, rolling up his sleeves. ‘Someone leaked our plan to the Old Man or the company and they’ve decided to play by our rules. But they’re not going to get away with it!’

‘Who could have talked?’ asks John doubtfully. ‘And besides, the Old Man’s sending Rúnar up to check it out. He’s one of us!’

‘What Rúnar will find up on the roof is cut wires,’ says Methúsalem calmly.

‘How can you be so sure?’ asks John, knitting his brows. ‘You aren’t responsible for this, are you?’

‘Are you crazy?’ Methúsalem scowls. ‘What would I gain by having no communications? Nothing! But there are those who gain by it, and we both know who they are. Right? The only thing I’m not sure of is exactly who it was who cut the wires up on the roof. But they’ve been cut, believe me.’

‘Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,’ mutters John. ‘Ummm, tell me, what time is it?’

‘The time, yeah…’ Methúsalem automatically looks at his left wrist, where there is no watch. ‘I’ve lost my fucking watch. I’ve looked everywhere! Can’t think what the hell I’ve done with it.’

‘I thought you never lost anything,’ says John, smiling inwardly.

‘I know, I just…’ Methúsalem sighs as he rubs his left wrist with his fingers.

‘I’ve got to get back down,’ says John, walking towards the door. ‘See you up there at eleven.’

‘Listen!’ Methúsalem stops rubbing his wrist. ‘We’re not going to let this put us off. We keep to our plan!’

‘And kill the engine?’ asks John, turning around with his left hand on the doorknob.

‘Yep,’ says Methúsalem, nodding. ‘And the sooner the better.’

‘But—’

‘No buts!’ says Methúsalem, lifting his chin and hooking his arms together behind his back. ‘We create a document clearly stating our demands and the Old Man can sign it on behalf of the company. A document like that must be valid in the maritime court, if it comes to that.’

‘We’ll see.’ John squeezes the doorknob. ‘But I’m not killing the engine unless the weather’s reasonable. It’s not a good idea to set a ship this big adrift in bad weather.’

‘I can’t see it makes any difference whether this pile of scrap iron sails lengthways or drifts sideways!’ snarls Methúsalem. ‘If you’re giving in to these fuckers you’d better admit it right now – and I mean this instant.

‘I’m not giving in,’ says John, going red around his eyes. ‘But if seawater gets in the engine room I can’t be sure of starting the engine again. You must see that!’

‘I’m not going on the dole,’ says Methúsalem, as calm as can be, staring into space as if he’s alone in the cabin. ‘Just so that’s clear.’

‘See you at eleven,’ Big John says then tears open the door and disappears into the corridor.

09:17

‘So, what’s the outlook?’ asks Rúnar as he comes into the bridge.

‘Good morning to you, too,’ says Guðmundur, turning round in his leather chair. ‘Can I offer you some fresh coffee?’

‘Yes, please,’ says Rúnar, walking over to the coffee machine. ‘I was hoping we’d be able to work outdoors today.’

‘Looks to me like we’re heading straight for another storm,’ says Guðmundur and he turns his chair back towards the front.

‘I guess we’ll scrub the stairs, then, to start with,’ says Rúnar as he pours steaming coffee into a clean mug. ‘And when I say “we”, I mean me and Sæli. The new guy hasn’t shown his face.’

‘Forget him,’ mutters Guðmundur. ‘Forget him for the time being.’

‘Either we’ve got three deckhands aboard or we haven’t,’ says Rúnar. He shakes loose a cigarette and puts it in his mouth. ‘If Sæli and I do all the work it seems obvious we get to divide the third man’s pay between us. Right?’

‘I’ve got a little job for you,’ says Guðmundur softly, drumming on the chair’s arms with the flat of his hand.

‘Oh?’ says Rúnar then lights his cigarette.

‘Yeah,’ says Guðmundur, looking out the window at the swirling cloud banks that seem to be eating up the daylight about ninety kilometres away. ‘I want to ask you to have a look up on the roof before we sail into that storm.’

‘On the roof? What for?’

‘This is just between you and me… for the time being.’ Guðmundur glances at Rúnar. ‘Is that understood?’

‘Yeah, no problem,’ says Rúnar, nodding, with the cigarette stuck fast in the corner of his mouth. ‘You can trust me.’

10:11

Guðmundur sits alone in the bridge, his arms resting on the arms of the chair while he watches, as though hypnotised, out the window.

Maybe the crew knows about the pending dismissals. They suspect something, at least. But it hasn’t been decided. The CEO had spoken of it as a possibility – a last resort to help the business recover.

Goddammit! As if he doesn’t have other things to think about! As if he doesn’t have enough worries already!

There’s anger in the crew, some bloody unrest, some upheaval that may break out into a genuine revolt if it is allowed to fester under the surface long enough. What can he do? Tell them the truth? Threaten them with serious consequences? Make them some promise he won’t be able to keep?

Or just pretend there’s nothing going on?

What if the ship’s been sabotaged, though? Then what will he do? What could he do? Search out some culprit to appease the others? Who? The new guy?

Or maybe that’s exactly what they’re waiting for him to do? Are they expecting him to make a wrong move – string up the wrong guy – just so they can denounce him as a dictator? Is that meant to be the final straw?

The key now is to remain calm and not let difficulties, bad luck or challenges upset him.

To begin with, it’s best to do nothing at all. Just take his time. Watch how the crew reacts to things.

The captain has been cornered. He’s been outmanoeuvred in an unexpected way. Okay. If people want to play blindfold chess he’s not afraid. But there’s one thing they should know: he’s going to think for as long as he wants before he reacts to the threats of this invisible opponent.

10:13

‘Don’t you want me to come with you?’ asks Sæli, putting down his bucket of soapy water. He leans on a long-handled scrubbing brush and wipes the sweat from his forehead. He has already scrubbed the bridge and the stairs down to F-deck, and is beginning to wet the floor there.

‘No, and not another word about it!’ says Rúnar, zipping his fur-lined overalls up to his chin. ‘The Old Man asked me to not let it go any further.’

‘What do you think happened?’ asks Sæli half to himself, letting the wet floor cloth slap onto the grey-speckled linoleum. ‘What do you think you’ll find up there?’