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AFTER HALF AN HOUR, Dr Tomlinson’s mood dampened. He was now looking at a significant advance, he said, rather than a decisive breakthrough. Worse, he’d reached the end of the avenue he’d been investigating. ‘Significant advance’ was all it offered, and if there was a complete cure it lay up some other avenue. To locate it would mean going back to the start.
“We’ve run out of time,” he told me. “It’s got to be this or nothing. It might save some people. It’ll probably save Ashanta.”
“Assuming she still wants saving.”
“Of course she will, won’t she?”
I remembered our last conversation, how she didn’t want to end up like Thomas Hardy’s Conformers. Bloody English bloody literature.
“I don’t know,” I said. “She’s an intrepid explorer.”
He obviously thought I was joking because he slapped me on the shoulder and smiled. There was sadness in his face, though. He’d done his best and I could tell he didn’t think it was good enough; he thought he’d let the side down.
I wanted to say something comforting. Given the amount of work he’d put in, I genuinely didn’t think anyone else could have done better. But, to my chagrin, I couldn’t furnish anything he wouldn’t interpret as patronising. After all, he was a world expert in his field. I ... well, what the hell did I know?
“Will – will it save you?” I said.
He looked at the floor and shook his head. “Get everyone together in the lounge,” he said softly. “I’d better make an announcement. As I myself keep saying, time’s of the essence.”
“You’ve worked flat out,” I said. “And you’re a genius. If we ever get back home I wouldn’t be surprised if you get a Nobel Prize. I don’t know anything about medicine, but, for the little it’s worth, I think you deserve one.”
Feeble, but it was the best I could come up with. To my surprise he grinned and shook my hand with both his. “Possibly, possibly. There’s no point in crying over spilt milk, Hugo, but I’ve certainly enjoyed your company. If I was to go to Sweden and make a speech, I’d tell the world I couldn’t have done it without you. And I’d mean it.”
I set about fulfilling the task he’d given me. A difficult one since I knew Mason wasn’t answering, Ashanta would keep me standing outside and I didn’t know exactly where Celia Soper lived. A single cloud of uniform consistency stretched from horizon to horizon and plated the sky in chrome with what looked like a luminous hole for the sun. The air hung still. It was chilly and damp.
I knocked on Rita Patel’s door. Endersby answered in a dressing gown and a red face. Rita Patel lay on the bed behind him, awkwardly clutching his trousers over her nakedness.
“You again,” he said breathlessly.
“Dr Tomlinson’s got an announcement to make.”
“Bloody hell, talk about perfect timing.”
He slammed the door. Five minutes later, I found Celia Soper on the Sun Deck, knitting.
“Dr Tomlinson’s got an announcement to make,” I said.
She put her needles down and nodded sagely. “Better late than never.”
I wasn’t sure how to take this. I’d had her down as a transformation enthusiast, but this seemed to imply she was secretly hoping for a cure. She stood up.
“I’ll tell the captain,” she said. “You tell Rita and Paul.”
“I’ve told them. I’m not sure they’re available.”
She grunted as if there was no need to add anything.
“If you see Ashanta,” I said, “could you tell her?”
“She’s almost certainly with Captain Mason. She’s examining her options, for want of a better phrase. Don’t worry, they’re not intimate. At least, not yet.”
“Do you think it’s inevitable?”
She looked at me. I’d asked on the spur of the moment, probably because I knew she wasn’t in anyone’s pocket. She alone was capable of giving an impartial assessment.
“No, I don’t,” she said. “I heard what happened between you - news travels fast when there’s nothing to do but wait – so I’ve given it a lot of thought. Do you mind if I give you some advice?”
“Of course not.”
“You’re a channel of communication. How do you know it doesn’t work the other way round? Pray. Pray to the fish to help you cross the divide. And if they can’t do that, pray to them to keep your wife out of Mason’s way until you can do it for yourself.”
“Pray to the fish?”
“I overheard your little speech in the dining room this morning, by the way. Very touching.”
I didn’t have an elderly aunt to hand and I guess in the absence of one, you instinctively grab the nearest thing. I tried to put what she’d just told me into the background so I could get back to what I considered the point.
“It’s not that I want to force Ashanta to stay out of Mason’s way,” I said. “I don’t think it’s in her best interests to pair up with him and I love her, but she’s got to be allowed to make her own choices. I wouldn’t want to take that away from her.”
She smiled. “You’re a very rare specimen of the male of the species, do you know that? Maybe that’s why they’ve chosen you.”
I shrugged. She’d bamboozled me. I didn’t know how to respond any more.
“The reason you’re immune,” she went on, “is probably because they want to use you as a Pythia after we’ve gone. You know what a Pythia is, I presume?”
I wanted to say something, but once again my shoulders preceded me. I seemed to be doing quite a lot of shrugging.
She laughed. “Tush, what do they teach young people at university nowadays?”
“I don’t know,” I said with an effort. “I don’t think I’ll ever go back there.”
“Choice or necessity?”
“Even if I have the option.”
“You will have. You’ll survive. To get back to the point at issue, the Pythia was the ancient priestess at Delphi, known for her prophecies. Cryptic messages from another world.”
“That’s what you think I am?”
“You’re better than that, Hugo Ellis. They’re keeping you on this side so you can relay information. But they’ll keep tight hold of you, have no fear.”
“I don’t much care about me. Not if I lose Ashanta.”
“You think they don’t know that?”
“But I’m immune.”
She gave a serene nod. “I don’t think so. I think it’s just going to take longer for you. You’ll join us. Call it an old woman’s intuition, if you like. Or ... you could say I’m another conduit, a lesser one.”
“You’re saying you know?”
“If you like. In the meantime, pray to them.”
Despite my qualms, I felt buoyed, I have to admit. But the thought of praying to them made me uncomfortable. It seemed a bit too Lovecraft and Dagon. She seemed to read it in my expression.
“I don’t mean worship them,” she said. “I mean talk to them in your mind. Maybe ‘pray’ was wrong. Incidentally, where does the good medic want us to assemble, did you say?”
Ten minutes later, we sat in the lounge in silence, waiting for Dr Tomlinson to arrive. There were sixteen velvet armchairs, a collection of low tables with magazines, a trio of empty vases and a television. Two chandeliers hung from the ceiling, but they weren’t lit. Watercolours of India during the Raj complemented the stripy wallpaper. A clock ticked.
I sat alone, three armchairs away from my nearest neighbour. Rita Patel and Paul Endersby sat behind me, fiddling with each other’s hands. Mason and Ashanta sat together, avoiding eye-contact between themselves and with me. Wiles sat on the edge of his chair with his head so low it was almost on his knees. Only Celia Soper looked relaxed. She’d brought her knitting. I actually liked her now.
Twenty minutes went by and Endersby started to sing, ‘Why are we waiting’ under his breath.
Celia Soper fixed him with one of her smiles. “Don’t you care that we’re all going to die, Paul, dear? And that Steven’s our only hope?”
She went back to her knitting. Endersby stopped singing and glowered.
Ten minutes later, a horrible thought struck me. What if Dr Tomlinson had begun to transform? Sitting here, none of us would know. He probably understood better than anyone how to deal with it, but our last hope of avoiding the change would have gone. And of course he’d be all alone.
Suddenly, it seemed like the only possibility, so obvious it was impossible to see why it hadn’t occurred to me – or anyone - earlier. I almost knocked my armchair over in my haste to get up.
I only succeeded in looking silly, however, because Dr Tomlinson was on his way in through the door. He seemed to read my thoughts.
“Relax, Hugo,” he said, “I’m okay. Although it’s depressing to see you’re the only one who cared enough to consider the possibility.”
There was a rumble of protest, no more than that. The truth is, we were all too busy thinking about ourselves – myself included – to give much thought to anyone else. Dr Tomlinson was the exception because he was committed on a systematic level by virtue of his professional gifts. I sat down.
Protest turned to apologies and Captain Mason got to his feet. “Steven’s absolutely right. From now on, we shouldn’t be alone for prolonged periods.”
We mm-ed our assent.
“Rita and Paul,” he went on, “You should be okay. Ashanta, I’d like you to stay with me. Steven, you could - ”
“But that’s outrageous,” Celia Soper butted in. “Ashanta, don’t you want to be with your lawful wedded husband?”
The air crackled for a minute. Ashanta and I looked at each other.
“Of course I do,” she said emotionally. She broke from Mason and came and lay across me and buried her head in my neck. I almost wept with gratitude.
Celia Soper laughed. “Always the simple things. Always the simple things that cut the ice.”
Mason looked like he wanted to bludgeon her to death with an oar. He stood up then sat down, lowered his eyebrows, bit his lip and looked out of the window. He was blushing.
Paul Endersby stood up. “Pardon me for interrupting, but I’d like to hear what Steven’s got to say. I’ve got sex to be getting back to.”
Rita Patel gasped and hit him hard on the back of the leg almost making him buckle.
“Everyone knows,” he said, “and it’s not like I’m not in love with you. We’d be married now if it wasn’t for this. I’m not ashamed of having a healthy appetite.”
This seemed to mollify her. She certainly didn’t melt but she did look like her indignation had just left the room.
“If we could just get back to the point,” Dr Tomlinson said. “Sit down, please, Paul. Everyone listen.”
Mr Endersby did as instructed. We all craned our necks forward a millimetre.
“Since what happened to Fiona and Ronnie, I’ve been working flat out, first of all to diagnose whatever it is that’s happening to us, secondly to find a cure. I haven’t been able to explain the causes, but I’ve provided an accurate enough description. A cure had to wait for the arrival of someone like this young man” – he indicated me – “who possesses some sort of inbuilt resistance.
“Although I’ve made exhaustive clinical notes, I can’t claim I’m any closer to saying what we’ve all got, except that it vaguely resembles cancer in terms of replication of cells. Hugo’s blood contains antibodies I’ve never seen before, and which seem to be acting as inhibitors. Since his blood type is compatible with all of ours, I postulated that it might be possible, under certain conditions, for a small transfusion to keep the disease in abeyance. I’ve now established the fact experimentally.” He paused and sighed. “There are, however, drawbacks.”
‘What are they then?’ was so obvious no one asked it. The sun seemed to intensify beyond the silver.
“We have to catch the disease in its early stages,” he continued. “We all know that it accelerates roughly geometrically, so I’m talking about before the last few weeks or days. But since it’s also prone to more random bursts of growth, it’s quite difficult to determine, for any given individual, whether he or she qualifies.”
Mason sat up. “What’ll happen if you’re given a transfusion and you’re not in the ‘early stages’?”
“It’ll almost certainly kill you,” Dr Tomlinson said.
“Bloody brilliant,” Endersby said. “So who among us do you reckon qualifies?”
“You ... and Ashanta ... and possibly Celia. That’s all.”
Rita Patel let out a whimper and put her hand to her forehead. She stood up and crumpled. Endersby caught her and lowered her back into the chair.
Wiles stood up. “Not me?”
“I’m – I’m afraid not, Colin,” Dr Tomlinson replied.
Wiles got up and went to the door. He took four deep breaths and came and sat down again in the same position he’d been sitting in before, with his head on his legs.
Although the good news was highly equivocal, I felt delighted. Here was Ashanta, on my knee, with the possibility of a cure.
“Will you?” I whispered in her ear.
“Of course,” she whispered back.
“Couldn’t I just risk it?” Wiles said. “What are the chances of it killing me?”
“About eighty per cent,” Dr Tomlinson said.
He laughed madly and got to his feet again. “Eighty per cent? But that’s nothing! When you said a moment ago it was ‘almost certain’, I thought you meant ninety-nine per cent or something like that! Eighty per cent is nothing!”
“I’m not willing to take the risk,” Dr Tomlinson said.
“But surely if I demand it?”
“I’m not in the euthanasia business.”
Mason cast his hands wide. “Steven, we’re no longer in a situation where we can afford to be morally precious. What if this somehow turns into a global pandemic?”
“If Colin knows the risks,” Endersby said, “and he’s willing to offer himself as a guinea-pig - ”
“I’m not being ‘morally precious’,” Dr Tomlinson said.
“I’m begging you!” Wiles said.
Rita Patel recovered her senses, apparently the result of Endersby licking her forehead.
“What’s everyone arguing about?” she said weakly.
“Colin wants to take the cure,” Endersby told her. “There’s only an eighty per cent chance of it killing you. But Steven’s adamant it’s not an option.”
“But then I’d like it,” she said.
“Steven, if you remain obstinate,” Mason said calmly, “I have the power, as captain, to countermand you. You realise that, don’t you?”
“If you exercise that power, I will, of course, resign.”
Mason nodded. “But you’ll remain on hand to give such advice as may be required? Otherwise, you may be indirectly responsible if something goes wrong, which would constitute wilful negligence.”
“I hope it won’t come to that.”
Mason turned to Mr Wiles. “Colin?”
Wiles was crying. “Please, Captain Mason, I’m begging you!”
“I’m begging you too!” Rita Patel said.
“Stop all this nonsense right now!” Celia Soper shouted suddenly. “Stop it!”
Everyone turned to face her and, for a second, the silence was like someone had hit a pause button.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourselves,” she said. “Let’s just imagine that Dr Tomlinson had come in here and said, ‘I’ve discovered a complete cure’. Why would that necessarily have been good news? Who are we, anyway? We’re denizens of a second-rate cruise ship, most of us have lost those we love and we’re probably going to die soon. This ‘transformation’ gives us a chance of a life beyond this one. Others have preceded us, they’ll have prepared the way. We’ve nothing to be afraid of. Only our own small-mindedness. Dr Tomlinson, I may qualify for your ‘cure’, but, although I have the greatest respect for you personally, I wouldn’t touch it with a barge-pole.”
She lowered herself back into her armchair and clamped her lips tight shut.
“Count me out too,” Endersby said.
Rita Patel put her fingertips to her lips. “Oh, but if I - ”
“Eighty per cent’s too much of a risk,” he said. “At least this way we’ll be together.”
More silence.
“I hope no one will mind if I accept Dr Tomlinson’s cure,” Ashanta said. “I happen to love my husband.”
“Please let me risk it!” Wiles said.
Dr Tomlinson looked at Mason and shrugged.
“Steven, you know how highly I rate you both as a physician and a person,” Mason said, “but I really have no choice. I’m ordering you to supply Colin with the cure.”
“Shame,” Celia Soper said.
“Oh, thank you, John!” Wiles said.
“In that case, I resign,” Dr Tomlinson said calmly.
Mason strode over and shook his hand. “I understand your dilemma, really. Please remain on hand to supply advice. And of course you’ll have to administer the cure to Mrs Ellis.”
I think only those with a personal interest would have detected the acrimony in his tone.
“Agreed,” said Dr Tomlinson. “Although I think you’re making a big mistake.”
“Colin Wiles, you’re a coward,” Celia Soper snapped.
He didn’t look as if he cared. He didn’t even look sane. We all got up at that point and went our separate ways. Ashanta and I went back to our cabin as in days of yore, but although we kissed a lot, we didn’t have sex.
“I don’t expect you to understand this,” she said, “but I don’t really want you to see me with my clothes off. Not until after the cure starts to take effect. It’s one of the reasons I cut and ran. It wasn’t what it seemed. Well ... it was partly.”
