Free Noah's Ark: Contagion by Harry Dayle

sound, sending clouds of white gas into the inferno.
    At the same time, the column of water snaking through the hose finally reached the nozzle, escaping at high speed, the momentum causing the mechanic to struggle for balance. Gallon upon gallon of cold green seawater was pumped into the store, drenching every inch of the place, starving the fire of fuel. The flames began to recede, and the mechanics chased them down until they had nowhere to go. Within minutes of them entering, the fire was out.
    “Cut it!” the mechanic shouted to the woman. It was hard to hear over the roar of the water coming from the hose, but she knew the drill, and ran back to the pump, cutting the fuel line and silencing the motor. The hose went limp, and then there was silence.

Eight

    J AKE DIDN ’ T HANG around to assess the damage. He thanked the mechanics and left them and the kitchen staff to begin a clean-up operation. His priority was to get Claude to the medical centre where they could treat him for smoke inhalation.
    Fortunately for the two men, Lister’s rooms were not far from the kitchens, just two decks down via a nearby staircase. Jake ran as fast as he could, still dripping with water from the sprinklers, to find a wheelchair.
    “Good morning, Captain, what is the rush?” the doctor asked as Jake burst through the door.
    “Wheelchair!” he managed to say, still trying to catch his breath. “Need a wheelchair.”
    “Kiera! Bring us the chair! What is it, Jake, who has been taken ill now? Is it the legs?”
    “The legs? No, it’s smoke.”
    “Ah, yes, I heard the alarm. What happened?”
    “Fire in the kitchen,” Jake said. Grau’s rooms were clean and dry; the sprinklers had been set off only in the zone in which the alarm had been raised.
    “That does not sound good. Ah, here is the wheelchair. Shall I accompany you?”
    “No need, thanks.”
    Jake grabbed the chair and charged back to the kitchen, this time using the lift. He found Claude sitting in a pool of water on the floor, still coughing and spluttering.
    “Here, help me up with him,” he said to a nearby pastry chef. They lifted the head chef into the chair, and Jake set off back in the direction from which he had just come.  
    Grau and Kiera were waiting for him, armed with an oxygen mask and a burns kit.
    “No, not the treatment room,” Kiera said, blocking Jake’s path as he went to go through. “Patient in there, not a pretty sight,” she added by way of explanation, seeing his inquisitive look.
    Doctor and nurse worked quickly together, attaching the mask, and treating Claude’s scorched skin. When he began to complain about the fuss they were making, they knew he was going to be alright.
    Grau took Jake to one side, leaving Kiera to finish cleaning up the chef. “As you are down here, I need to fill you in on the woman we brought down to the morgue yesterday. What was left of her anyway.” He proceeded to bring the captain up to speed on what had happened with Maryse.
    “And you think the guy you’ve got back there, it’s the same thing?” Jake asked, rubbing his brow.
    “I think it is a possibility, but I need to perform a post-mortem, and I need to test her blood, after I have tested the body we pulled out of the water.”
    “Busy time for you, Grau.”
    “Yes, not a situation I am particularly delighted by. There is something else. The blood from the patient in there? I had the machine run more analysis overnight. We have absolutely no idea what is wrong with him apart from that it seems to be some kind of microbial infection. It is as if his body is being eaten from the inside out. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
    “Forgive my ignorance, Doctor, but is it possible it’s a rare condition that your machine is not programmed to detect?”
    “Very possible. We are but a small unit; Pelagios installed the minimum equipment required by international maritime law for a vessel of this size. If he had a common cold, or