‘I don’t think the universe is that generous.’ He turned to Imka. ‘We need to make sure the ship isn’t going to sink. Cheng, this’d be a good time to find out if your satellite link’s working.’

‘I’ll check,’ the student promised, shakily standing and bringing his pack to a plotting table.

‘Great. Imka, let’s go. If the ship’s okay, we’ll be back soon,’ he told Nina as they headed for the exit. ‘If it’s not, we’ll be back really soon!’

‘“Okay” is kind of a relative term, isn’t it?’ she retorted, surveying the chaotic wreckage around them.

Eddie grinned, then followed Imka from the bridge.

Nina joined Cheng. He swept water from the table before sliding the laptop from its waterproof case. He then took out a black plastic tube containing the satellite link’s folding antenna. ‘It needs to point at the sky,’ he announced.

She gestured at the gaping hole in the ceiling. ‘That won’t be a problem.’

Cheng managed a small smile, but it did not last. ‘I . . . I can’t believe we’re still alive,’ he said as he set up the antenna.

‘Not all of us are,’ Nina reminded him grimly. ‘They killed Janco and Marc – and everyone on the Torrox.’

He sighed deeply, then regarded the yellow pouch, still wedged in her harness. ‘If I’d known finding the key would bring so much danger . . .’

‘You would have listened to my second rule? Kinda wishing I’d done that myself.’

He didn’t reply, though his expression was troubled. Instead he turned back to his laptop, plugging in the antenna. ‘Okay. I hope it’s still working . . .’

He opened the computer. The screen remained dark for a moment – then to their relief it lit up, a login message appearing. Cheng tapped clumsily at the keyboard. ‘Ow. It’s hard to type when your fingers have no feeling.’

‘They’ll warm up,’ Nina assured him. She watched as suspended programs came back to life, but all were in Chinese, indecipherable. ‘You think you’ll be able to call for help?’

‘If I can get a satellite link.’ No doubt behind his words.

Nina nodded and paced around the bridge to warm herself while he worked.

Eddie and Imka returned a few minutes later. ‘Good news and bad news,’ reported the Yorkshireman. ‘Good news, the ship isn’t going to sink. Bad news, the engine’s wrecked. So unless we find some really big oars, we’re not going anywhere.’

Imka went to Cheng. ‘Is the satellite link working?’

The Chinese had been intermittently typing, waiting for responses over a messaging program. ‘Yes. I managed to contact a friend in China. They reported our situation to the authorities, who will try to alert any other ships in the area.’

‘They know the nearest ship’s the one that stranded us out here in the first place, right?’ said Eddie.