Pitt sent the ship's officers up to the pilothouse to report to Captain Burch. To a man, they offered their services, which were gracefully accepted.

McFerrin was the last man down.

Pitt was waiting for him and caught his arm to keep the burned and exhausted man from stumbling and falling. He looked at the seared flesh on McFerrin's fingers and said, "A pity I can't shake the hand of a brave man."

McFerrin studied his burned hands as if they belonged to someone else. "Yes, I think it will be awhile." Then his face clouded. "I have no idea how many, if any, of the poor devils who made their way to the bow are still alive."

"We'll know soon," Pitt replied.

McFerrin looked around the survey ship, seeing the waves slosh over the work deck. "It would seem," he said calmly, "that you are in an extremely perilous situation."

"We do what we can," Pitt joked with a grim smile.

He sent McFerrin to the hospital, then turned and shouted to Burch up on the bridge wing. "That's the last of them on the stern, Skipper. The rest went for the bow."

Burch simply nodded and closed down the thruster control console. Then he moved into the pilothouse. "The helm is yours," he said to the helmsman. "Take us around to her bow nice and easy. We don't want to aggravate whatever damage there is to our hull."

"I'll treat her as gently as a butterfly," the young man at the helm assured him.

Burch was greatly relieved to move his ship away from the cruise liner. He sent Leo Delgado down to sound the hull for buckled plates and leaks due to the battering. While he waited for the report, he called down to Chief Engineer Marvin House. "Marvin, how does it look in your neighborhood?"

Down in the engine room, Chief House stood on the walkway between the engines and eyed the thin stream of water that was pooling around their mountings. "My guess is we have major structural damage somewhere up forward, probably in one of the storerooms. I've got the main pumps working at full capacity."

"Can you keep ahead of the flow?"

"I've ordered my crew to set up auxiliary pumps and hoses to help stem the flood." House paused, and then as he looked around at the cruise ship survivors who were jammed in every open inch of his beloved engine room, he asked, "What does it look like topside?"

"Packed like Times Square on New Year's Eve," answered Burch.

Delgado returned to the pilothouse, and Burch knew by the grim look on the officer's face the report was far from pleasant.

"Several of the plates are crushed and sprung," Delgado gasped, out of breath from running up from below. "Water is coming in at an alarming rate. The pumps are keeping ahead of the flow, but they won't be able to cope if the sea gets much worse. If the waves rise over eight feet, all bets are off."