Chapter 2: How A Boat That?

It was good that there were only seven days in a week, mused Captain Jonathan Percival Hoag, otherwise there would be yet another day in which to kick himself for accepting this deal. There were only two sure good things about it. He could bring along any family and friends who wished to come, and he could select and keep any of his crew along with their families. Otherwise, this assignment could end up a dead zero - a humongous pain in the sit-down-ski!

Before the landing of the Swarm on the North American continent, Captain Hoag, nicknamed ‘Hero’ behind his back, skippered the Summer Paradise, one of three large cruise liners belonging to the privately owned Paradise Line. He was still skipper, but it had become a far different job.

“Hero!” Hoag grimaced at the call from his company’s operations manager. He actually liked John Rico, but dammit -- knock off the name.

“Hero, we have an offer for you,” smirked Rico. “The company has leased Spring Paradise and Fall Paradise to the Feds to use as floating warehouses for ‘special’ refugees coming south ahead of the Sa’arm. In return, we have a free hand with your boat. You and the crew are exempt from call-up or draft; you can bring aboard family and friends <wink>; and so can your crew.”

“What’s the catch?” Hoag demanded. “There has to be a big one.”

Rico explained that the Summer was to become the floating refuge of the company’s owners and friends. She would sail on a semi weekly circuit to restock and let peons ashore -- briefly or permanently as warranted. The upper echelon owners would helicopter off if they needed to be somewhere mid-cruise.

Seemingly against his better judgment, Hoag had accepted the offer. His missing lower left leg had booted him from the reserves, so he didn’t feel he was shirking. Nope, but his reservations had proved entirely justified, and the Summer Paradise became a bitch, moan, and complain hell.

He learned the rationale for the refuge to be a rumor from a ‘friend in high places.’ Supposedly, the Swarm was afraid of water. With replicators aboard (who knows how obtained), these prima donnas believed they could sail away from any trouble and live comfortably waited upon until such time (as their political friends assured them would happen) the alien monsters were defeated and they could return home. Aliens were always defeated in movies -- right? Right!

Were it not for his super competent staff captain, Jan Tormey, and her equally competent hotel director husband, Ian ‘It’ Tormey (Send for It! Now!), he thought he would probably have gone nuts and run the ‘boat’ aground.

Ringmistress of the four-alarm zoo (mixed metaphors -- but accurate) was Anita Davidson, seconded by her husband Brian. Anita was the company’s chief financial officer. She owned enough of the business that she could have been president, but it was said of her that she could only orgasm when profit was involved. She placed her husband, Brian, in the presidency and stayed where she could count the money rolling in and keep it from dripping out.

One of her very annoying quirks was her insistence that she hire and supervise the ships’ pursers. Over the years, this led to some very obnoxious individuals complicating Hoag’s life. However, if one is sufficiently obnoxious and hated, life aboard ship can become very unpleasant, and the worst appointees did not last long. Hoag’s current purser was the daughter of Anita’s long-time tennis partner and had been hired by Anita at her crony’s request.

Contrary to every expectation, Frederica (Ricky) Gentry was a gem in just about every way imaginable. She had sapphire-blue eyes framed by Scottish red hair on the lithe, athletic body of a swimmer. At five foot ten, with smallish breasts, she had no need for a bra, and her slightly jiggling headlights lit the way everywhere she went. Her personality lit up a room as well.

Ricky roomed, by choice, with the ship’s chopper pilot, Svitlana (Lana) Koval, great granddaughter of the world’s first woman fighter ace. Great granny, her namesake, was a Ukrainian WWII fighter pilot credited with twelve solo kills and four assists. Lana-the-first had been wing-woman to Russian ace, Andrei Mikkivich Usilov, and bore his child, conceived before his death. There was a lot from her ancestors’ personalities in Lana.

Ricky and Lana were not yet lovers but probably would be soon. Friendship and respect grew daily.

When Rico had made his proposal and offered the assignment, Captain Hoag thought of a cherished plan that he had not yet shared with anyone, not even Gillian, his wife. Having heard of small towns, large arenas, and even county fairs having been extracted, he asked himself, ‘why not a cruise ship?’ He could assemble a crew worthy of extraction, but the issue might be the passengers. Then came John Rico’s call, and the plan began to seem possible, even with the drone passengers he was sure to acquire.