curved like the set of the long wave at Cape St Francis when the surf
was up.
Beyond the bows, the massive tower of her navigation bridge stood so
tall it looked like the skyline of The Miami Beach, one of those massive
hotel buildings seen from close inshore.
It made her feel distinctly uneasy to be directly under that on-rushing
steel avalanche.
Do you think they have seen us? Sally-Anne asked beside her, and when
Samantha heard her own unease echoed by the pretty girl beside her, it
steeled her.
Of course they have/ she announced stoutly so that everyone in the small
wheelhouse could hear her. That's why they blew their siren. We'll
turn aside at the last minute. They aren't slowing down, Hank Petersen,
the helmsman, pointed out huskily, and Samantha wished that Tom Parker
had been on board with them. However, Tom was up in Washington again,
and they had taken the Dicky to sea with a scratch crew, and without Tom
Parker's written authorization. What do you want to do, Sam? And they
all looked at her.
I know a thing that size can't stop, but at least we're going to make
them slow down.
Are the TV boys getting some stuff? Samantha asked, to delay the moment
of decision. Go up, Sally-Anne, and check them. Then to the others,
You-all get the banner ready, we'll let them get a good look at that.
Listen, Sam. Hank Petersen's tanned intelligent face was strained. He
was a tunny expert, and was not accustomed to handling the vessel except
in calm and uncluttered waters. I don't like this, we're getting much
too close. That thing could churn us right under, and not even notice
the bump. I want to turn away now. His voice was almost drowned by the
sudden sky-crashing blast of the tanker's fog-horns.
Son of a gun, Sam, I don't like playing chicken-chicken with somebody
that size. Don't worry, we'll get out of their way at the last moment.
All rightV Samantha decided. Turn go to port, Hank. Let's show them the
signs, I'm going to help them on deck. The wind tore at the thin white
canvas banner as they tried to run it out along the side of the
deckhouse, and the little vessel was rolling uncomfortably while the TV
producer was shouting confused stage directions at them from the top of
the wheelhouse.
Bitterly Samantha wished there was somebody to take commands somebody
like Nicholas Berg - and the banner tried to wrap itself around her
head.
The Dicky was coming around fast now, and Samantha shot a glance at the
oncoming tanker and felt the shock of it strike in the pit of her
stomach like the blow of a fist. It was huge, and very close - much too
close, even she realized that.
At last she managed to get a turn of the thin line that secured the
banner around the stern rail - but the light canvas had twisted so that
only one word of the slogan was readable. POISONER', it accused in
scarlet, crudely painted letters followed by a grinning skull and
crossed bones.
