Excerpt
EXCERPT FROM THE CAPTAIN WHO BROKE THE RULES
COPYRIGHT © CAMERON COOPER 2021
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
On my third day aboard the Jan Mayen Island, I woke to find a memo from Captain Sandor waiting for me to accept delivery.
This is to inform you that at 02.47.45 hours this morning, ship’s time, the following cargo containers with serial numbers registered to your passenger profile were jettisoned.
JMI-1340-9850-AOU0892-GTX
JMI-1340-9850-AOU0893-GTX
JMI-1340-9850-AOU0894-GTX
As a state of emergency was in force at the time, no warranties can be claimed.
Thank you and enjoy the rest of your journey aboard the Jan Mayen Island.
Cptn. D. Sandor
I skipped breakfast. I couldn’t have eaten it, anyway. Instead, I headed for the Courtyard, where the thirty or so passengers on the JMI tended to spend their waking hours, to get away from the cramped quarters. At least you could stretch out your legs in the Courtyard.
I wasn’t there to stretch my legs, though. Not today. My intention was to find out why my cargo had been dumped, and what I could do about it. There was always a senior crew member on hand in the Courtyard. They rotated through concierge duty one after the other, and no one but the Captain herself was exempt.
Thirty seconds in the Courtyard told me mine was not an isolated case. Everyone was bunched around the poor sod of an officer who’d snagged this shift, their voices lifted in protested, demanding their possessions back.
“That was everything I own!”
“We’ve moving to Bryant. How the hell are we supposed to survive on Bryant with nothing? It’s a class three settlement!”
“It took me ninety years to build that collection!”
The officer was a slip of a girl, with a smart board and patience that was wearing thin. I lingered long enough to hear her start to repeat herself, then turned and scanned the Courtyard. The crew common room was on the other side of the Courtyard, through a wide doorway.
I headed over there and was halted at the opening by a sergeant who was a bit bigger than the girl trying to placate the other passengers, but not as big as me.
He didn’t seem to be bothered by the weight and height differences. “Sorry, this area is for crew only.” He didn’t move a centimeter, not even when I got up close.
“That’s right. I’m looking for the Captain.” I peered over his shoulder and around the common room. It had smaller tables and chairs, the same food printers that were in the Courtyard, and off-duty crew gobbling down breakfast.
Among them I spotted the Captain’s cap of black hair, half-a-head higher than anyone else at her table. “Captain!” I shouted.
She paid no attention. The others at the table were heads-together with her, talking softly.
“Hey, buster, back off!” the sergeant said, gripping my arm. “She don’t need passengers in her face this morning.”
“I’m not in her face,” I pointed out. “I’m right here.” I filled my lungs and bellowed, “Sandor!”
This time, she looked up. The blue eyes narrowed.
The sergeant shook me like a wet rag. This was the reason he was on door duty this morning. They were expecting something like this.
