Free Lost Republic by Paul B. Thompson Page A

boats ready to launch.
    Just like in an old movie, Mr. Brock shouted, “Women and children first!” It was still the law of the sea.
    Julie, Linh, and Jenny found themselves shoved into the same boat. Mrs. Ellis was there, too. Two crewmen hoisted her out of her chair and set her in the boat. Her lifter chair went in next. Mothers and kids piled on, most of them crying. When the boat was full, there were thirty-eight people aboard, all children or women.
    â€œLower away!”
    Down they went, swaying side to side as they descended. Julie was pale with fear, not so much from the motion as the horrible idea the boat would flip upside down and dump them all into the sea.
    It didn’t happen. The boat squatted heavily in the water. One of the Panamanian crewmen came hand over hand down the ropes to the boat. He cast off and took his place at the engine controls. The electric motor whined, but the sound quickly faded away.
    â€œThe battery, she dead!” called the sailor to the officers above.
    More cursing. The lifeboat batteries were constantly charged by solar panels on the ship’s superstructure. How could they be dead?
    The lifeboat wallowed against the
Carleton
’s high steel hull. Screams of alarm from the boat were matched by shouted advice from Brock and Engineer Pascal. The sailor left the motor controls and broke out four oars. Jenny and several fit women volunteered to work them. After a few clumsy tries, they got the bobbing boat clear of the ship.
    A third shock wave spread out from the land and hit the
Carleton
. Fittings broke loose and tumbled down the deck. A sailor who had climbed onto the second lifeboat crane to rig the lines was shaken loose. He plummeted head first into the water, just missing the stern of the launched lifeboat.
    â€œRamundo!” his friends cried.
    Three life rings hit the water where Ramundo disappeared. More were on their way when Captain Viega stopped the barrage. The sea was writhing around the ship. The lifeboat full of women and children made an awkward half-circle and came back. Viega and the officers shouted for them to stay clear.
    Everyone waited for Ramundo to surface. He didn’t.
    A fourth shock arrived. There was a heavy thud under the deck. Smoke began to spill out of the ventilators. With a massive groaning of tortured steel,
Carleton
listed further to starboard. Hans asked Mr. Brock how far the ship could tilt before they couldn’t launch lifeboats.
    â€œThe book says twenty-five degrees on these old davits,” he said. “One way or another, we’ll get them in the water!”
    The women remaining boarded the second lifeboat. The young male passengers were next. Leigh shouted to Julie down in her boat and climbed in. France was in this group, and, reluctantly, Hans. He kept asking if he could bring up the silver or china his parents had sent on board. Brock coldly ordered him into the boat.
    At the last moment, Emile slipped out of line and backed away. Everyone was too focused on getting the boat away to notice his departure. He ran to the door of the lounge, now flapping with every shudder of the ship. Emile ducked inside. Not seeing what he was seeking, he went to the inside stairwell and rattled down to A deck. The air stank of burnt insulation and an oily smell like diesel. He made his way down the tilted hall, calling a name. No one answered.
    It was dark below deck without electric lights. A few battery-powered emergency beams shone in the stairwells and corridor corners. By this weak light Emile read cabin door numbers until he came to one he was seeking. It was open.
    â€œEleanor! Eleanor!”
    She was fighting to close a hefty suitcase and failing.
    â€œForget it!” Emile said. “It’s time to go! We’re abandoning ship!”
    â€œI’ve got to get my things and my mother’s!” she protested.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter! The ship may capsize at any time!”
    He tried to drag