2042: The Great Cataclysm (22 page)

He was not her first lover, men had chased her since she was barely fourteen. In her spare time she worked as an artist’s model, and she was in high demand, having a slim body, long silky black hair and a lovely face, highlighted by slightly oriental purple eyes. She was daring, always looking for excitement, never listening to her uncle who tried unsuccessfully to control her. Sean was very different from her other boyfriends. He was mature, interesting, and he didn’t chase her, which made her want him all the more.

Her life became a nightmare where she switched between elation and depression. He dangled her on a string, used her in every possible way until eventually she fell pregnant. Young, barely eighteen she was desperately frightened but believed Sean would want to marry her, and he continued to court her and promised marriage one day.

The tragedy struck, four months into her pregnancy Karen miscarried leaving her in a state of despair, that no-one guessed was because not only had she lost the love of her life’s child, a child she had prayed would bring her and Sean together, but doctors told her she may never be able to carry a child to full term.

Sean reacted in ways she couldn’t explain, he didn’t seem to care and he tortured her with his indifference. His wife divorced him and took away his children, he blamed Karen, and she believed his wife had found out about their affair, and Karen blamed herself.

After the hurt had subsided she went on with her life, training to become a nurse. She tolerated his many affairs with other women, remaining chained to him for the next four years until she learned he had made one of those women pregnant also, and was about to marry her. She was devastated and withdrew into herself for several years, believing had she not lost the child they would still be together.

After she married Brian she suffered many incidences of pain from ovarian cysts, and her next pregnancy was ectopic and caused a fallopian tube to rupture resulting in infertility.

All those years ago and she was still unable to force Sean out of her heart.  She had tried with Alex, and with Brian, but nothing worked, he was still there, deep in a corner of her soul.  Sometimes a song they had both liked would spark the memories again, tearing her heart as if it were yesterday.

Perhaps if she had been able to give Brian a child, life would have been different, albeit complicated, balancing a child between nursing, her other great love. She didn’t blame Sean for her inability to fall pregnant again, she blamed herself. She believed it was God’s punishment for breaking his commandments. He would probably go on punishing her until she died, with memories of Sean locked inside her, a woman unable to give love to anyone but a ghost of the past.

She had married Brian because she needed someone to straighten out her life and give her security, and she had never discussed her affair with Sean. They enjoyed a normal relationship for a while and she cared for him deeply, but there was never the passion and wild emotion that she had experienced with Sean. She respected Brian but love eluded her. The physical side of their relationship ceased two years ago. For reasons she was never sure of, Brian just stopped touching her, and did not encourage conversation about why. He was very caring and considerate, but the warmth and tenderness he had shown her previously had gone. She knew there was no other woman, Brian just wasn’t interested any longer. She existed, but never really felt that life was anything more than just existing.

The challenges that she knew lie ahead began to overwhelm her, and she wished right at that moment she was dead. Many nights just before falling asleep she would offer a prayer, one that she would die in her sleep, so she would not have to endure her empty life any longer. Her prayers were never answered, so it was useless to think it would change now.

Her heart was heavy as she dressed silently for work, careful not to arouse Brian, who had stumbled into bed sometime during the early hours of the morning. Nick’s story reeled around inside her head, and she wondered just what was facing her at the hospital.

She made some coffee, then went to check on Nick. He was sleeping deeply, and as she watched her heart skipped a beat, and her hand flew to her mouth. Her mind went back to last night when he had hugged her, and the feeling that shocked her remained even now. It was electric, something she hadn’t experienced since her first heady days with Sean. She told herself it could never be, it would destroy Nick’s relationship with his brother.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Tuesday, June 6

Waking as Karen was leaving for work, Nick went to the verandah and shivered in the cold morning air, surprised that he had been able to sleep at all. He watched Karen leave the house. Nurses at the Northern Hospital wore orange body suits, it’s fine silky fabric moving without restriction as the nurses went about their duties. On Karen the Navilon body suit accentuated the graceful curves of her small body, and the high Nehru style neckline was a stark contrast to her pale skin and jet-black hair.  Nick thought she never looked more beautiful, and his eyes followed her SUV until it was out of sight, on it’s way to the Trancab station that would take her to the hospital. The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted into his senses and drew him to the kitchen. After helping himself to a cup, he splashed water from the kitchen sink over his face and left without waking Brian.

The Trancab dropped him near the car park at The Contessa building, and he spotted three army jeeps parked neatly side by side in front of the main doorway. They were four wheel drive vehicles, but instead of being open as the old style of jeep, these were enclosed within a bullet-proof Navilon shell, with carbon fibre and titanium reinforced chassis to protect the passengers from hand grenades or ground mines. Two army officers hovered in the foyer, one a tall rather British looking gentleman aged about forty, and a shorter, younger man.

‘Are you blokes looking for me by any chance?’ Nick asked, noticing them studying him intensely. ‘I’m Nick Torrens.’

The tall man introduced himself. ‘I’m Captain Robertson, this is Major O’Keefe.  Can we talk to you Mr Torrens?’

‘Names Nick.  Come on up.’ He gestured on entering the lift. Neither man spoke until Nick ushered them into his apartment.

‘Mr. Parker said you were the bloke who started all this, and we should keep in touch with you.  We’re just touching base to let you know we’ve got Star Flight rolling up in the Hinterland. We’re stationed at Canungra, and a good thing too, easy access.  Parker’s men are taking care of things down here.’

‘What’s your plans?’ Nick asked.

‘As you know most of the Hinterland is rugged bush except for top of Tamborine Mountain and Beechmont. Those mountains are five hundred metres above sea level so we’re setting up community centres and distribution points in both areas. We’ve caused a bit of a stir up there though, we had to commandeer all the public buildings and churches, mainly for the people being evacuated from the hospital. The volunteers will be in tents.

‘What about everybody else?’

‘Depends on how much time we have. Do you have any news?’

They followed Nick to his kitchen. ‘No. Coffee?’

Both men shook their heads. ‘We’ll be taking all the tents and temporary shelter we can find.  We’ll do all we can, but it’d be easier if we knew when this’s going to happen.’

‘Only God knows that.’ Nick said.

Captain Robertson blinked rapidly. ‘Getting fuel up there’s the biggest problem. We haven’t got anywhere to store it, so we have to keep the tankers up there. If your predictions are right, we won’t have much use for vehicles anyway. Those roads up there go nowhere but into more scrub.’

‘My brother lives up there, I’ll be using his place as my base on land until my boat gets here. Where’s your headquarters?’

‘We’re mobile now. You can get any of us on 1313131. Parker’s on that number too. He said to tell you to call him.’

Nick sipped his coffee. ‘He’s here on the Coast?’

‘Yeah.  He needed some of our men down here, so we’ve set up a small army base at the Waterside complex for him and his men. Luckily they had several floors vacant.’

‘Okay. Thanks, I’ll call him.’

Nick showed them out and ordered his smart system. ‘Phone please 1313131.’

‘Dave!  Welcome to the Gold Coast. Just had a visit from two army officers, they said you wanted me. What’s up?’

‘Need to pick your brains. After this is over we’ll need boats and plenty of them. Can we save any of them?  You said boats at sea are usually safe.’

‘Yeah, I did but um, I’m not sure, it’s going to get rough out there.’ He thought of Platypus and winced.

‘What’s the alternative?’

Nick ran a hand through his hair. ‘Maybe if the bigger boats go right out to sea, they may stand a chance.’

‘D’you know the Commodore at the Yacht Club? He might have some ideas.’

‘Matter of fact I do. He’ll be in touch with the commercial boats by radio.’

‘Right. I’ll leave you to it then. Call anytime if you need me.’

‘Will do. Thanks Dave.’

‘End call.’ Nick said, immediately followed by ‘Phone Platypus.’

‘Sam. What’s happening?’

‘Ho boss.  Everythin’s okay. We’ve already refuelled and picked up those stores you arranged.’ Sam advised. ‘The guy at the depot couldn’t believe the gear we took on board. He said it looked like we were takin’ off for a round-the-world-trip, maybe.  Man we couldn’t have jammed another thing into our hold, you must’ve bought out half the stores on the waterfront boss. Over.’

Nick smiled at Sam’s use of the word over. Radio communications demanded its use and Sam didn’t distinguish between the radio and the long-range sat-phone phone Nick had left on board. ‘You’ll be needing every bit of it. When are you leaving Hawaii?’

‘Um, we’re having some problems here boss. Um, most of the crew jumped ship soon as we arrived. We’re tryin’ to get some more men but it’s almost impossible since the news was let out. Don’t know how long it’s gonna take. We’ll refuel at Nauru Island, and if the weather holds up we should be in Brisbane nine….ten days. Over.’

‘Do your best Sam, keep topping up wherever you can, I want you to arrive with full provisions and as much fuel on board as you can carry.’

‘Okay boss. Anything else? Over.’

‘No. Take care of Bunyip.’

‘You bet boss. Roger that. Out.’

Nick grinned as he imagined Sam trying to keep the crew from jumping ship and spreading the word in port. Sam always made him smile, he missed his good humour.

Nick’s next call was to Barry Cole, the Commodore of the yacht club.

‘So, it was you who found out about the coming catastrophe.’ Barry bellowed. ‘Thought you’d be still out on your boat. Is Platypus here? Where are you moored?’

Nick threw his head back and ruffled his hair. ‘No, she’s on her way back here. Listen Barry, I need you to organise a meeting with the commercial fleet and skippers. I want to talk to them.’

‘Oh yeah, and I bet they want to talk to you too. I’m being bombarded with questions about how everyone can save their boats.’

***

Nick knew Barry lived nearby the yacht club, and was a man who spent almost all his time there, or out on his boat. Most boats using the waters here now were all over sixteen metres, and whether they could remain safe during and after the event was another question. Knowing the mindset of most boating people was to put their boat before all else, apart from their family, they would want to know what they could do to save them.

Nick looked at his watch. ‘Can you get them together quickly, I can come to the club today.’

‘Great. I’ll call you back. Ciao.’

While he waited Nick gathered some clothes, packing as much as he could into two suitcases. He rifled through his boating books, selecting his favourites, which ended in a pile on the coffee table, far too large and heavy to pack into suitcases. He placed some back on the bookcase, changed his mind and put them back on the coffee table. He repeated this exercise several times until he threw one across the room, then stomped to the kitchen leaving it where it lay. He opened his pantry and stared at the food the housekeeper had brought in. He knew the army would evacuate him, but didn’t know how much he could carry.

Barry called back to say he had organised the meeting in an hour. Nick changed into his official Platypus uniform: a T-shirt with a Platypus embroidered on the left breast, and eyed his lived-in shorts but thought better of it, instead donned his moleskin trousers and headed for the Yacht Club.

The marina stretched the whole length of this section of the Broad-water for about two to three kilometres, taking in the old tourist resorts of Versace, Mariner’s Cove and the Mirage Resort hotel complex, right on up to the Sea-world theme park.  Sea-world was the original and one of the few theme parks to survive, as it catered for the marine life which was still a drawcard, although it had been scaled down in size. The five-star Mirage Hotel that was rebuilt in 2018 was a sad shell of it’s former glory, reduced to offering cheap accommodation to families, desperately competing with Sea-world Nara Resort further along the isthmus.

On the ocean side of the dyke, four fishing trawlers lay at anchor, fighting the ocean waves that threatened to hurl them against the dyke, waiting for their intrepid owners to take them out to do their job. Nick spotted various super-yachts dotting the coastline, their days of ferrying their owners and guests from their homes to the ocean environment had been reduced to zero, now they had no access to the Broad-water.

***

Arriving at the yacht club Nick found the place bustling with yachties, professional fishermen and skippers, their faces wearing grimaces and frowns. With their businesses crumbling around them, the members looked upon their club as a last refuge, and would do anything to preserve it. Like most club houses, now the lucrative gaming profits had been commandeered by the government to pay for the dykes, most were bravely trying to maintain some remnants of their past glory.

Nick waited for the Commodore in the lounge on the second floor of the yacht club, he watched a whirling speedboat spinning circles in the Broad-water, towing a man dangling from a para-sail above the white water spurting from it’s wake. It was a colourful scene, a bright red, blue and yellow parachute dipping and soaring above the froth and bubble of the white bullet-shaped speedboat’s wash.

A distinguished elderly gentleman wearing a navy-blue blazer approached offering his hand. ‘You’re a welcome site Nick. Thanks for coming so soon.’

Men and women, some clad in rough Navilon suits, many of retirement age, gathered around them. The questions flew, one talking above the other until Nick thought his head would burst. He waved his hands in a downward motion to silence the babble.

‘I can’t tell you how to save your boats. I can only tell you what to expect. It’ll be rough. I’m like all of you here, I love my boat, but I don’t know if she’s going to make it through.’  He looked out to the marina and lowered his voice. ‘The boats here will be crushed by the tsunami.’

Expletives between shouted questions filled the air. One chap beside Nick spoke up above the babble. ‘My boat’s a forty-eight footer, will she be able to ride it out?’

Nick hesitated. ‘I er, no.’ Nick replied. ‘I suggest that those of you who have boats you can tow, to get them up to the City Marina and take them ashore. However, I don’t know where you’re going to take them. The army won’t let you to take them into the mountains.’

Nicked looked around at the worried faces. ‘Those of you who have your yachts anchored out there in the ocean, may have a chance of saving them if you take them out past the edge of the continental shelf, but you could be risking your lives. It will be extremely dangerous.’

The forty-eight footer man stared open-mouthed at Nick. ‘How much warning will we get?’ he managed to croak.

‘We’ll get a warning immediately the epicentres are recorded. It depends where those epicentres are located, and what the readings are on the Richter scale are, before we know how long they’ll take to reach our shores. Normally tsunami travel at speeds between eight hundred to a thousand kilometres per hour, but this one will be bigger than any we’ve ever seen, so it’s be impossible to predict it’s speed, it’ll be fast.’

‘You’re not much bloody help,’ another man shouted.

Nick spread his hands and shook his head. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be more specific. The room erupted with raised voices again as Nick walked away with the Commodore. ‘Sorry I stirred up that mess Barry, but I had to be truthful.’

‘She’s right mate! They’ll understand once the shock wears off.’

‘What about you? Where’s your boat?’