Newton’s Fire

II

Luke took Rachel in his arms as the Ark discharged a second time. He didn’t need to look outside to know that the engines were gone, that the plane had received its death blow. He couldn’t believe it was going to end like this. He couldn’t accept that he was responsible for bringing this on Rachel. He looked around for some glimmer of hope, saw it in the large oak chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to it. ‘Get in,’ he said.

‘It won’t be strong enough.’

‘Newton built it to protect the Ark,’ he told her. ‘It will be strong enough.’

She nodded and climbed inside, fitted her feet into the hollow at the far end. The plane was hurtling downwards, wreaking havoc on the hold. He picked up the mirror half of the Ark’s protective moulding and made to enclose Rachel in its protective womb, but she fought him off. ‘No! You have to get in too.’

‘There isn’t room. Not for both of us.’

‘There is if we use life jackets.’

He felt a fierce surge of joy and pride and hope. The overhead lockers had all tumbled open and spilled their guts onto the floor. He grabbed life jackets from all around and tossed them into the chest. Through a window, the sea was rushing up fast. No more time. He grabbed the chest’s end panel, fitted it into its grooves then climbed inside and let it drop down like a portcullis behind him, enclosing both him and Rachel in its protective walls. The chest was too short for him and he had to bend his knees, adopt the brace position. The life jackets were all around them. In the darkness they felt for and pulled toggles, inflating the jackets like balloons, creating a buffer between themselves and the chest walls, packing themselves tighter and tighter until they couldn’t move, and his chest was pressed against hers, and his chin was on her shoulder. The screaming of their descent grew louder as it echoed off the water. Any second now. Any second. He wrapped his arms around Rachel and hugged her hard, felt her hugging him back with equal intensity, and if it had to end for them both, then best like this, best like this, best like-

A deafening crash. The fuselage jumped and shuddered. The oak chest was flung forwards, spinning and tumbling like a die cast by some outraged god. They crashed into and through the internal bulkhead, would surely have broken apart had the Ark not already smashed a path for them. The impact was still so violent that Luke banged his head hard even through the life jackets, leaving him dazed and only vaguely aware of hideous noises all around him, of shrieking metal and things breaking and popping and splintering. Their forward motion stopped abruptly. He felt utterly disoriented and for a moment wondered whether this was what death felt like. But then he realized he was merely upside down, that blood was rushing to his head and pain was reporting in from the various parts of his body, telling him that he was very much alive.

Rachel was still in his arms, still pressed against him by the swell of life jackets. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked. His voice was slurred and disembodied, but the biggest surprise was hearing it at all.

Rachel didn’t reply. His hand was pinned behind her back but some of the life jackets had punctured and were slowly deflating, allowing him to work it free. He touched her throat, felt nothing. His heart twisted. ‘Rachel!’ he cried.

He tried her wrist instead and this time felt something, not strong but steady. No time to celebrate, however. Metal groaned outside, stretched beyond its capacity. The chest lurched and tipped onto its side. He heard splashing. His right hip grew wet; then his thigh and calf. And he realized, belatedly, they were shipping water fast through the hole Newton had cut in the chest’s floor in order to accommodate the base of the Ark.