Passage

“I’m Dr. Wright,” Richard said. “I’m here to see Maisie Nellis.”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Nellis said you’d be down,” she said and led the way into the room. Maisie was lying against her pillows, watching TV. “Dr. Wright’s here to see you,” the nurse said, moving around behind the bed to look at her IVs. She pushed a button on the IV stand.

“Hi,” Maisie said listlessly, and looked back up at the TV. What if I’m wrong, and she wasn’t trying to send a message? Richard thought, watching her. What if I confabulated the whole thing?

The nurse straightened the IV line, pushed the button again, and went out, pulling the door nearly shut behind her. “Well, it’s about time,” Maisie said, pushing herself up to sit. “What took you so long?”

51

“Nearer, my God, to thee.”

—Last words of U.S. President William McKinley, after being shot by an assassin

Joanna stared at the wireless operator’s blond hair, at his young, open face. The face that had laughed happily at her from the photo in Mr. Briarley’s library. “You’re Kit’s fiancй,” she said.

“You know Kit?” Kevin said, yanking the earphones off. “She’s not here, is she?” He leaped up, gripped Joanna’s shoulders. “Tell me she’s not here.”

“No,” Joanna said hastily. “She’s fine. She’s — ” but he had already sat back down, was already sending again.

“I have to get a message to her,” he said, tapping out the code. “I have to tell her I’m sorry. It was my fault, I didn’t watch where I was going.”

“Neither did I,” Joanna said.

“I have to get the message to her that I love her,” Kevin said, his forefinger relentlessly tapping out the code. “I didn’t tell her. I didn’t even say good-bye.” He picked up the headphones and held the earpiece to his ear. “There isn’t any answer,” he said. “It’s too far.”

“No, it isn’t,” Joanna said, kneeling beside him, her hand on his arm. “The message got through. She knows you loved her. She understands you couldn’t say good-bye.”

“And she’ll be all right?” he asked anxiously. “I left her all alone.”

“She’s not alone. She’s got Vielle, and Richard.”

“Richard?” he said. An expression of pain crossed his face and was replaced by something sadder. “I was afraid she’d be alone. I was afraid it was too far for the message to get through,” and laid the headphones down on the table.

“It wasn’t,” Joanna said, still kneeling by him. “It isn’t. And I have to get a message through. It’s important. Please.”

He nodded, put his finger on the key. “What do you want to say?”

Good-bye, Joanna thought. I’m sorry. I love you. She glanced at the spark. It wavered, dimmed. “Tell Richard the NDE’s a distress signal from the brain to all the body’s systems. Tell him it — ” she said, and was yanked brutally to her feet.

“The collapsibles weren’t there,” Greg growled, his hands gripping her shoulders. “Where are they?” He shook her. “Where are they?”

“You don’t understand,” Joanna said, looking frantically back at Kevin. “I have to send a—”

But Greg had let go of her, had grabbed Kevin’s arm. “That’s a wireless!” he said. “You’re sending out SOSs! There are ships coming to save us, aren’t there? Aren’t there?”

Kevin shook his head. “The Carpathia’s coming. But she’s fifty-eight miles from here. She won’t make it in time. It’s too far for her to come.”

Joanna sucked in her breath.

“What do you mean, too far for her to come?” Greg said, and Joanna understood finally what it was she had heard in his voice in the ER. She had thought it was despair, but it wasn’t. It was disbelief and fury. “Fifty-eight?” Greg said, jerking Kevin around to face him. “There has to be something closer than that. Who else are you sending to?”

“The Virginian, the Olympic, the Mount Temple,” Kevin said, “but none of them are close enough to help. The Olympic’s over five hundred miles away.”

“Then send the SOS to somebody else,” Greg said and pushed Kevin down into the chair. “Send it to somebody closer. What about that ship whose light everybody saw?”

“She doesn’t answer.”

“She has to answer,” Greg said, and jammed Kevin’s hand down onto the key. “Send it. SOS. SOS.”

Kevin glanced at Joanna and then bent forward and began to tap out the message. Dot-dot-dot. Dash-dash-dash. Above his head, the blue spark arced, flickered, disappeared, arced again.

It’s fading, Joanna thought, and pushed forward between them. “No! It’s too late for SOSs. Tell Richard it’s an SOS, tell him Mrs. Troudtheim’s NDEs are the key.”

“Keep sending SOS!” Greg said, his hand snaking out to fasten on Joanna’s wrist. “You, show me where they keep the lifejackets.”

She called to Kevin, “You have to get the message through to Richard. Tell him it’s a code, that the neurotransmitters — ” but Greg had already pushed her out of the wireless room, onto the deck.

“Where are the lifejackets?” he demanded. “We have to stay afloat till the ship gets here! Where did they keep them?”