Captain Stevens, gasping his last breaths after being burned to a crisp. It was only moments later when the ship was struck by impossibly large tsunami waves and Reiner was tossed about and nearly drowned when water rushed into the public areas. He had been carried through the casino by the flood and swept forward into the ship’s theater where nearly a thousand passengers had taken refuge. The theater had proven to be the ideal safe haven for many of the survivors and Reiner learned that the captain’s wife, Lydia, had been responsible for bringing them here to take shelter. This knowledge only increased his sense of loss at seeing her get sucked down a whirlpool by the same flooding that carried him into the theater. After that he had assumed command of the situation in the theater and done his best to keep the passengers calm and safe. Eventually Reiner had turned on the video projector to share the news with everyone. He had hoped that news from the outside world would bring calm and peace of mind to those gathered in the theater, but the news had not been good. He and the rest of those with him spent the rest of the night watching a global disaster unfold. The President of the United States announced the destruction of Hawaii and described terrible damage from earthquakes in California. The GNN satellite news channel had shown brief and deeply depressing reports from Australia, as well as the Philippines and other island nations of the Pacific. In several cases the images of towering waves rushing towards a camera marked the final communication from whole cities, even nations. In other places survivors were able to make sporadic contact with the outside world by using portable satellite phones or short wave radios to beg for help and share their tragic stories of destruction and loss. Throughout the night the news got worse and worse, as did the mood of the people gathered in the theater to watch it. Most of the crew did their best to calm and comfort the passengers. Soup, sandwiches and beverages were brought to the theater. Blankets, towels, and pillows were passed out. Yet Lieutenant Reiner could feel a growing shift in the attitude and demeanor expressed by many of the crew. They were suffering the same level of shock and trauma as the passengers, and it was becoming clear that some of the crew were in no mood to wait on the guests. Their own homes and families were first and foremost in their thoughts. The complaints and demands from the passengers were more than some of the crew could handle. Reiner had already relieved several waiters and stewards who had reached the breaking point. He sent them to find somewhere dry to get some rest, with orders to report back for the next shift. As dawn approached it became clear that he couldn’t keep the passengers cooped up in the theater for much longer. There were constant complaints and requests to return to their staterooms. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that most of those staterooms had been gutted by fire and flooding, destroying their personal belongings and making most of these passengers virtually homeless aboard the ship. If he had told them that harsh truth it probably would have started a riot. So he tried to console them by explaining that the crew were still conducting damage control and making the rest of the ship safe for the passengers to occupy again. He didn’t know how much longer that story would work and needed to come up with a better solution soon. In the meantime, Reiner and several other members of the crew had done a headcount and taken down the names of everyone in the theater. There were one thousand two hundred and twenty-three passengers there, as well as eighty-three members of the crew. Thirty more people had been taken down to the ship’s medical center for treatment of various injuries and conditions. A dozen or so had suffered broken bones when the ship was tossed up and down by the tsunami waves, and others