Fucking Lake Erie, Pt 2

"Hail steamship Chesapeake," Doc hollers over the external loudspeakers,"In the name of Pres. Andrew Jackson, Halt. You may be in danger!" He turns of the mic. "Professor, can you get the thermal camera and your tracer on this I-Browse?" he asks, handing the device over.

"No problem," replies Dr. Ritenrong. A few clicks later, he hands it back. "Done."

"Perfect. Thunderhorse, get out of those overalls and get your ax and helmet ready."

The Nord's face beams. "HAHA!" he laughs as he tears off his costume and runs over to Lightning.

"Steve, pack a saddle bag with the toolkit, pry-bar, rope, and two sticks of dynamite, 10 second fuses," Doc orders.

Doc curses the replicator for being an over-sized gum-ball machine as he digs through the crew cabin for something useful. In one utility compartment, he finds a water-resistant nylon satchel. He thanks fate for this as he shoves the medkit into it. He returns to the cargo bay and gets into his Jeep. He pulls out some road flares and a Maglite.

Thunderhorse is armored, armed, and ready. Dr. Ritenrong has prepared the saddle bag and is standing by the cargo bay controls. "Ready?" he asks.

Doc checks the I-Browse. All 15 people are below decks, now crowded around the portholes staring at the Pu. Doc nods to Steve. Steve hits the button.

The cargo bay doors fold open. Orange rays of sunlight beam into the cargo bay. Once the cargo bay doors stop, Thunderhorse begins climbing the hand-holds along what was the ceiling a moment ago, now a convenient ladder up to the top deck of the ship, near the bridge. Doc follows behind him, stopping in the middle to hand off the saddle bag from Dr. Ritenrong to Thunderhorse.

The deck of the Chesapeake is deserted. Doc checks the I-Browse again. The thermal image is taken from the side, so while it is easy to see if people are above, below, far, or near to them, it is difficult to tell if they are to the left or right. Everyone is below them, on the lower deck between the paddle wheels. Steve's Q-Net device tracer is blipping amidst the red glow of the warm bodies. It's difficult to tell if anyone is holding it, but it does not appear to be moving.

"Hail Chesapeake! We have come to warn you! You are in DANGER!" Doc yells. There is no response.

The bridge is empty. The ship's engine is disengaged, but the fire in the burners are still hot and the two boilers are still steaming away. Someone left here in a hurry, spilling a cup of coffee all over the place.

They proceed down the stairs to the next level. The sun has set at last. Doc turns on his flashlight and peers into the second deck windows. There's a pleasant little galley and a fully stocked bar, completely vacated. A table is set with food still steaming on the plates. The lanterns had not yet been lit. Drinks are left undrunk. A plate has been knocked to the floor with a hurried exit.

They proceed towards the bow to the stairs down to the lower deck. The stairs lead forward, away from the group of people at the back. Doc checks the thermal image.What looks like two people are moving cautiously forward, but disappear from his viewer as they step between the boilers, obscured by the white heat radiating from them.