CV

4

Humming beerily to himself, Jim Woodruff unlocked the stateroom door and entered. His wife was sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs with her hands in her lap; to look at her, you would think she hadn’t moved. “Em,” he said with forced enthusiasm, “you won’t believe this place. They’ve got movie theaters here, and a Turkish bath, and a shopping mall— What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, dear. I’m fine.”

“Well, you’re tired. That's natural.” He took a turn around the room, jingled the keys in his pocket, sat on the bed. “I met a nice guy in a bar—he’s from Akron, he’s in real estate there. We’re going to have a great time, Em.”

“I am tired, but I’ll be all right after a while.”

“Sure you will. You’ll have plenty of time to rest. Did you have a nice nap?”

“I couldn’t, but I will later. What was his name, the man from Akron?"

"Boyko, Bill Boyko. He gave me his card. A real nice guy. You know. Em. you wouldn't believe the clothes on some of the women you see here. 1 mean, fur coats, high heels, Arab pants, you name it. Talk about the Ritz, this is it. You want something from room service?”

“I don’t think so. There’s a lot of things in the refrigerator, in there."

"Yeah?” Jim rose and went to see for himself. Cold beer, soft drinks, fruit juice, sandwiches in plastic, cheese. He took a beer and came back. "Pretty soft,” he said. “This is the life. Em, wait and see.”

“Attention." said a voice. "Attention, all passengers. A boat drill will be held in five minutes. Please consult the card posted on your stateroom door to find your boat station, or ask any steward for assistance. When the alarm bell sounds, all passengers are requested to go to their stations.”

Jim got up and looked at the card on the inside of the door. “Lifeboat Thirty-seven," he read. “Guess we’d better go.”

“What does that mean, a boat drill?” Emily was sitting up with her hands clasped tightly together.

“It just means we have to go to our lifeboat, find out where it is and so on, so we’ll know in case of an emergency. It’s a routine thing, Em; they do it on every ship."

“But what do you mean, an emergency? The ship isn’t going to sink, is it?”

“Of course the ship isn’t going to sink. My God, Em. how could it sink, a thing this size? Be reasonable, will you?”

Her voice went high and thin. “But if it isn’t going to sink, why do they have lifeboats?” She jumped when a' bell began ringing in the corridor outside.

Jim clanked his beer can on the table. “I haven’t got time to argue with you now. Are you coming or not?”

“No,” she said. “No, you go, Jim. I can’t.”

“All right, then, damn it.”

At the door, he took another look at the diagram on the card. Boat 37, it was on the port side of the Boat Deck near the stern; that should be easy.

The bell was still ringing. He got on the elevator with a bunch of other people who had a slightly embarrassed holiday air. They glanced at him and at each other with little smiles, as if to say, “This is really ridiculous, but isn’t it fun?” Their spirit began to infect him, and by the time they got down to the Boat Deck he was feeling a lighthearted excitement.

It was easy to find Lifeboat 37, because nearly the whole crowd was going there. The number was on a sign over one of two massive doors that opened off a kind of deep alcove. Stewards were waiting to help them over the sill. At the end of a short passageway was an open door in a white curving wall; they walked in and found themselves in a long yellow room lined on either side with blue-cushioned seats. Up in front was a pilot’s chair and a console, with television screens and three round windows.

One of the stewards was standing up in front with a clipboard in his hand; he was Chinese by the look of him, but he spoke English like anybody else. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you will sit down and give me your attention please, I will call off your names in alphabetical order.”

They shuffled down the aisle, sorting themselves out. The seats were only about two-thirds filled.

“Abbott, Mr. and Mrs.?”

“Here.”

The steward went down his list. There was no reply to many of the names he called, and he shook his head disapprovingly when he was through. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, I want to call your attention to the features of your lifeboat. In the unlikely event of an emergency requiring us to abandon Sea Venture, the alarm would sound and you would all come immediately to this station. In that event, I hope we would have better attendance than we had today.” There was a little embarrassed laughter.

“When all our passengers are aboard,” the steward went on, “the door would be closed and the lifeboat launched by pulling this red handle. The boat can also be launched electronically from the Control Center, provided the door is closed and sealed. As you can see, the lifeboat is completely enclosed and can be launched whether or not Sea Venture is submerged. If it is launched from a submerged position, the lifeboat will automatically rise to the surface and begin to broadcast a location signal. When it is on the surface, if conditions permit, the hatch you see overhead can be raised. Food sufficient for ten days is stored in the lockers overhead. Other supplies, including first-aid kits and life preservers, are also stored there. Are there any questions?”

“What happens after we get to the surface?” someone called.

“In the event of abandoning Sea Venture near the mainland or an inhabited island, the lifeboat will be navigated to safety. Otherwise the lifeboat will be picked up by a rescue vessel. Are there any other questions?” He waited a moment. “Very well, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your courtesy and patience. The drill is now over. Thank you.”

They all trooped out, laughing and talking.