'He what?'
'Claire, you were allowed to come on this trip because it was important to me to have my family with me; it was supposed to be a very special time for us. But you've come very close to ruining the voyage for all of us.'
'I—'
'Be quiet!' Tears sprang into his daughter's eyes. 'Now — Captain?'
'Claire — your birthday was just last week, wasn't it?'
'What?' She was now looking very confused.
'Tell me, what did your parents get you?'
She started to shrug, but then blurted out: 'A camera.'
'What sort of a camera?'
'I don't know.'
'That's because it's still sitting in its box,' said Mr Stanford. 'It's a state-of-the-art digital camera. Professional photographers would give their.....for one, and I don't have to tell you it cost a small fortune. But she hardly looked at it.'
'I didn't ask for a camera,' Claire snapped.
Stanford shook his head sadly, then looked at the Captain and raised an eyebrow. 'You see what I'm up against?'
Captain Smith nodded. 'Claire — your parents have decided that you need to learn a thing or two, not just about honesty, but to appreciate what a very privileged life you lead. They've come to the end of their tether with you, quite frankly, and at least as far as the remainder of this trip is concerned, they are prepared to hand matters of discipline over to me.'
'Discipline?' She looked in disbelief at her father, who was now sitting back in his chair, arms folded. 'You can't do that. . .!'
'Well he has, Claire. And what I've decided . . .'
'You can't do that!' Claire repeated, only louder.
'Be quiet, Claire!' her father ordered.
Claire stood shaking her head, tears rolling down her cheeks.
'. . . what I've decided is that you take your new camera, you work out how to use it, and you work alongside Scoop and Jimmy on the newspaper. Isn't that right, Scoop?'
Scoop nodded. 'It'll be a great help.'
Jimmy looked aghast.
'Well, Claire?' asked the Captain.
'I won't do it. You can't make me.'
'Very well.' The Captain turned and nodded at Mr Stanford, who shook his head regretfully.
Claire followed this exchange. 'What . . . what?'
'Claire, if you can't do this simple thing we're asking then we'll have no alternative. I know how much you were looking forward to shopping in Miami and touring the Caribbean with us, but I'm afraid you'll be catching the first plane back to school instead.'
Claire looked horrified. 'You can't do that — I'm your daughter!'
'Sometimes I wonder,' said Mr Stanford.
In the end she agreed. She had no choice. Scoop rolled out of the cabin first, with Jimmy and Claire following behind.
'I hate you,' Claire hissed at Jimmy.
'Not as much as I hate you,' Jimmy hissed back.
'And I hate the both of you,' hissed Scoop, 'but I still have to work with you. Now shut your pie holes and get a move on.'
9
Fighting and Dying
Jimmy and Claire fought and bickered and swore and hurled insults, names and anything that wasn't tied down at each other on the way to Scoop's office. They went on and on and on and . . . eventually Scoop's wheelchair screeched to a halt. He spun around and yelled: 'ENOUGH!'
Jimmy let go of Claire's hair.
Claire released Jimmy's foot.
'There's no need to shout,' said Jimmy.
'I'm not deaf,' said Claire.
'Well then just . . . stop it. Please.' He opened the door and led them in. 'You'll be working together whether you like each other or not, so get used to it. But believe you me, it'll be an awful lot easier if you just learn to get on. All right?'
Jimmy shrugged. Claire looked at her nails.
'OK. Now, Jimmy, I want you to explain to Claire about the who, what, where, when, how . . .'
'The what?' Claire demanded.
'How to write a story,' said Jimmy.
Claire snorted. 'I know how to write a story.'
'This is different, Claire,' said Scoop. 'It's journalism.'
'Not fairytales about your little ponies,' said Jimmy.
'Shut your trap!'
'Kids, please!'
'I was editor of the school newspaper,' said Claire.
'I was editor of the school newspaper,' mimicked Jimmy. 'What was it, the Pony Express?'
They continued with the bickering until gradually they became aware that Scoop was just sitting there, watching, not bothering to tell them off. After a few more exchanges, they fell silent.
'All right,' Scoop said quietly, 'we're clearly not going to get anywhere with this tonight. And I've had enough of it. I want you to go to your rooms, and I want you both to have a long think. Captain Smith has spelled out to each of you what will happen if you don't work with me on this. So either come in bright and fresh and friendly in the morning, or don't come in at all and deal with the consequences.'
Jimmy shrugged. Claire examined her nails again.
'Right. Off with you then.'
They walked out together. They moved up the corridor side by side, in silence. When they came to the elevators at the end, they both stepped in. Claire pressed for the fourteenth floor. Jimmy pressed for the ninth. They travelled upwards without speaking or looking at each other.
When the doors opened Jimmy stepped out.
'Brain dead,' said Claire.
The doors began to close.
'Fat arse,' said Jimmy.
***
As they lay sleeping that night, lost in their own dreams and nightmares, the virus was spreading rapidly through the city of San Diego. TV news programmes were calling it 'The Plague' or 'The Red Death'. In St Mary's Hospital, where the two dying boys had been brought, the doctors were utterly unable to identify the cause of their illness, and weren't even aware that they themselves had been infected. By the time a well-practised quarantine procedure was finally introduced it was far too late. The virus was too strong. Thousands were falling ill. First there was a high fever, then came huge pulsating sores. Finally lungs filled with yellow poison, drowning the victims.
The city was dying — the state, the country, and the entire world was under a death sentence.
***
'We can use this, can't we?' Jimmy asked the next morning, nodding at a news story he'd pulled up on his computer screen. Scoop rolled up alongside and studied it. The Governor of California had declared a state of emergency in San Diego, and was being urged to do the same in Los Angeles. All flights to and from those cities had been grounded, and the roads closed. Scientists were battling to identify the source of the outbreak and to produce a cure. High doses of antibiotics were being administered to patients but with little success. The President said his prayers were with the people of California. The first case was reported in Washington DC shortly after the President issued his statement.
Well,' said Scoop, 'in this case we have several options. As a journalist, of course you want to use it; it's a huge story, it has everything you want — drama, tragedy, death . . . but you have to remember you're on a cruise ship, and you don't want to cause panic amongst your passengers. And if half of California is in quarantine then the passengers we were expecting from San Diego or Los Angeles probably aren't going to make it to the ship in time, so we don't have to write for them. What we do is practise responsible journalism — report the news in a calm, matter-of-fact way, don't sensationalize.'