“But you do have your doctorate in archeology, Josh. You should be proud of that.”
“I not impressed by titles, Susan. That’s my father’s gig. His view on archeology is cocktails with diplomats, or dinner with prospective sources of funding. Ever since he got the United Nations involved with his International Consortium for Artifact Preservation project, I‘ve been stuck doing most of the field work while he attends dinner functions with diplomats.”
“Josh, you should be proud of your father’s concept of ICAP. Involving so many nations with preservation, has helped to curtail the black marketing of many artifacts that would have otherwise been lost to some rich collector and—”
“Whoa! What the hell is that?” Turner interrupted his young intern, pointing toward the eastern sky.
The two viewed a glowing object on the horizon that seemed to shimmer with an orange-yellow tint as it arced across the night sky trailed by flames. It rushed toward the west, and, as it approached, they could clearly make out a distinct roar; like that of a locomotive.
They watched the object in stunned fascination until of a sudden, it seemed to slow, then sharply turn downward and plummet into the sea some twenty miles distant. After a moment, there came a flash of light as bright as the sun followed by a thunderous boom. The two stared in silence as the night once again regained its normality.
Captain Cleary rushed out of the wheelhouse and onto the catwalk.
“Did you see that, Josh? It looked like a meteor, and a damned big one, too!” he yelled.
“I never saw a meteor slow down and turn on its own, skipper,” Turner replied.
All of a sudden, they heard and felt a rumbling followed by the sight of a fiery blast in the distance where the object had fallen just minutes before. The intense shock wave that followed the blast hit the ship before the two could react, knocking both Turner and Susan off their feet and onto the hard steel decking.
“Go to the staterooms, Susan, and get Pond up here with your life jackets,” Turner said as he got up. “If I’m right, we may have a big problem coming our way.”
As Susan ran off, Turner raced back up the gangway to the bridge to find Cleary staring out at the darkened sea while first officer Harkness was issuing an order to the engine room to slow to quarter speed.
“Was there any damage to the ship, Captain?
“I sent a man below to check, Josh.” Turner could sense the nervousness in the elder man’s voice.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Captain,” Turner said, staring out the window into the darkness.
“I’m way ahead of you, Josh. I’ve already directed her bow toward whatever it was.”
Cleary picked up the bridge intercom microphone and shouted to the engine room. “Mr. Mallory, I want all you can give me — full ahead.”
“Full ahead — aye, skipper,” the ship’s chief engineer responded from below.
“Did you get a fix on the flash point?” Cleary asked his first officer.
“Aye, sir, twenty degrees off our starboard bow.”
“Make for that heading, Mr. Harkness,” Cleary ordered, his eyes straining in the darkness.
“Aye, sir.”
As Turner stood in the wheelhouse, he felt the steel plating begin to rumble under his feet as the forty-four hundred ton vessel shot forward like a thoroughbred bolting from its starting gate.
“What’s our present depth?” Turner asked, hoping that his fears were wrong as he watched the crescent moon rising on the horizon ahead of them.
“Six point zero fathoms and the bottom is rising, Josh,” the Captain replied, sweat now forming on his brow as he gazed at the depth finder.
“Damn it!” Cleary yelled. “We should be in deeper water by now.”
“Four point nine fathoms now, sir!” First Officer Harkness yelled with rising panic in his voice.
“We should be over twenty-five fathoms at this point. Get to your people, Josh. You know what’s coming…hurry!”
Turner raced out of the wheelhouse and descended the gangway. Not sure what to do, he ran down the walkway toward one of the many small, inflatable Zodiacs located on the Southern Star and began frantically looking fore and aft for his two missing interns.
“Damn it!” he yelled, knowing time was short. “Where the hell are they?” His frustration was cut short by the sickening sound of the ship’s hull scraping sea bottom. His fear rising, he heard the tormented shriek of tons of steel as the Southern Star slowly began to spin on its axis. It finally came to a jarring stop, throwing Turner hard against the bulkhead.
Getting up, he quickly began to untie the ropes to the davits that held the small Zodiac against the ship’s side rail. As Susan Hendrich came bounding out the door from the staterooms below deck, Turner could see the sheer terror in her eyes.
“Where’s Pond?” Turner asked angrily as he untied the last of the davits then lowered the inflatable to the deck.
“He went down to the hold to get the artifacts we brought with us, Josh. He thought it would be—”
“Damned fool,” He said, slamming his fist against the bulkhead in frustration.
The Southern Star then began to roll precariously to starboard, finally coming to rest at a fifteen-degree angle. Turner, managing to keep his footing, moved to grab the outboard motor end of the Zodiac. He looked over the side, and, in the ship’s lights, he saw to his horror the sea below churning with foam as a raging torrent of water rushed passed the stranded ship headed away from land. For what seemed an eternity to Turner, the tortured metal of the aging ship groaned in protest as tons of pressure assailed the ship’s superstructure firmly wedged in the muddy sea bottom.
“What‘s happening, Josh?” Susan cried out in wide-eyed fear.
“There’s a tsunami coming, Susan,” he yelled back at her above the roar of the water below them. “The sea’s running outward, so it won’t be long before it hits. We’re sitting high and dry and the bow of this ship is no longer facing into the wave. If it hits us broadside, we’re done for!”
The torrent of rushing water beneath the Southern Star diminished, and, in the glow of ship’s emergency lights, Turner could see that they were now sitting on muddy sea bottom that was once a deep channel.
“Quickly, Susan, grab onto the front of the inflatable. We need to get it to the bow.”
“What about Pond?” the young intern asked tearfully.
“There’s no time left to go down and look for him, Susan. Hopefully he’ll find us in time.”
The two managed to get the small craft to the bow of the ship where they met First Officer Harkness coming down the companionway from the bridge as other crewmen ran hurriedly about.
“The captain’s ordered all hands to life boats. Jesus, how the hell can we abandon ship with no water beneath us?” he said in near hysteria. “Cleary’s refusing to abandon the wheelhouse. I can’t get him to leave.”
Turner looked up to the darkened wheelhouse and could see the soft reddish glow of a cigarette through the port window.
Knowing there wasn’t much time left, Turner then focused on removing the 9.9 horse Yamaha outboard from the transom of the Zodiac.
“What are you doing?” Harkness asked.
“This motor will be ripped off its mount the instant the tsunami hits. We need buoyancy, not power,” Turner replied, tossing the motor over the side. “I’m going to leave the water proof cover on and leave just enough opening for us to get in. I know it’s a long shot, but I don’t see any other option. There’s room for four. Are you coming?”
“No, Mr. Turner. I’m going below to make sure all the crew is topside.” He then ran off into the darkness toward the aft end of the ship.