this when so much was at stake - six hundred human lives, a great ship,
tens of millions of dollars, his whole future. They would probably
never themselves know what it felt like to put a lifetime's work at risk
on a single flip of the coin - and then suddenly, unaccountably, he
envied them.
He could not understand the sensation, could not fathom why suddenly he
longed to laugh with them, to share the companionship of the moment, to
be free of pressure for just a little while. For fifteen years, he had
not known that sort of hiatus, had never wanted it.
He stood up abruptly, and immediately the bridge was silent. Every
officer concentrating on his appointed task, not one of them glancing at
him as he paced once, slowly, across the wide bridge. It did not need a
word to change the mood, and suddenly Nick felt guilty. it was too easy,
too cheap.
Carefully Nick steeled himself, shutting out the weakness, building up
his resolve and determination, bringing all his concentration to bear on
the Herculean task ahead of him, and he paused at the door of the radio
room. The Trog looked up from his machines, and they exchanged a single
glance of understanding. Two completely dedicated men, with no time for
frivolity.
Nick nodded and paced on, the strong handsome face stern and
uncompromising his step firm and measured but when he stopped again by
the side windows of the bridge and looked up at the magnificent cliff of
ice, he felt the doubts surging up again within him.
How much had he sacrificed for what he had gained, how much joy and
laughter had he spurned to follow the high road of challenge, how much
beauty had he passed along the way without seeing it in his haste, how
much love and warmth and companionship? He thought with a fierce pang
of the women who had been his wife, and who had gone now with the child
who was his son. Why had they gone, and what had they left him with -
after all his strivings?
Behind him, the radio crackled and hummed as the carrier beam opened
Channel 16, then it pitched higher as a human voice came through in
clear.
Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. This is the Golden Adventurer! Nick spun and
ran to the radio room as the calm masculine voice read out the
coordinates of the ship's position.
We are in imminent danger of striking. We are preparing to abandon
ship. Can any vessel render assistance?
Repeat, can any vessel render assistance?
Good God/ David Allen's voice was harsh with anxiety, the current's got
them, they're going down on Cape Alarm at nine knots - she's only fifty
miles offshore and we are still two hundred and twenty miles from that
position. Where is La Mouette? growled Nick Berg. 'Where the hell is
she? We'll have to open contact now, sir/David Allen looked up from the
chart. You cannot let them go down into the boats - not in this
weather, sir. It would be murder. Thank you, Number One/ said Nick
quietly. Your advice is always welcome. David flushed, but there was
anger and not embarrassment beneath the colour. Even in the stress of
the moment, Nick noted that, and adjusted his opinion of his First
