Page 40 of A Perfect Disaster

“What technical poetry you have,” he says, bursting out laughing.

“You have no sense of humor.”

Gonzalo just smiles wryly, but decides not to push his luck any further. He knows full well what’s at stake.

The first tour groups are starting to crowd the bus boarding area. From my position on the gangway, I watch the cruise passengers move forward with that typical lack of coordination of early risers.

Then Maika appears on the pier with her entertainment team.

I don’t know if the air pressure suddenly changes or if it’s just me, but I become stupidly sensitive to the light the moment she enters my field of vision. I can already feel how hard it is to breathe.

Maika is wearing the formal Transmarine uniform, though she has the exasperating gift of making the company blazer look like a comfortable Italian-designed garment on her body. Walking beside her are Leo, Iván, Lara, and Nico. All are properly identified with their badges and assigned to their tasks.

Lara raises her hand and offers a genuine smile to a couple dragging along twins. Leo checks the names on his tablet with infectious calm. Iván leans respectfully toward an elderly couple to listen to their concerns. Nico is handing out emergency brochures next to bus number one. And Maika… Maika moves through the midst of this human machinery as if she were controlling the ocean currents without needing to consult the radar.

It’s beyond my control; I can’t take my eyes off her. It drives me crazy to have to admit it, but her leadership is impeccable.

“It seems the entertainment department knows what a company inspection is all about,” says Gonzalo, watching the same scene.

I clench my jaw until it hurts.

“I’ve never questioned their ability,” I lie in a monotone voice.

“At least, not for show,” he insists.

“Are you trying to get me to take you off duty today, Gonzalo?”

He raises his hands.

“I’m just pointing out that the entertainment coordinator has the situation under control. And that should calm you down, Helen.”

It should. But the conflict with Maika has never been limited to the ship’s schedule. Or maybe it has.

Suddenly, Maika looks up toward the gangway. Our eyes meet across the distance, and I feel the entire port go quiet. Her eyes hold mine with an overwhelming calm. She doesn’t quite smile, but I recognize that tension at the corners of her lips; I know she’s holding back. I start reading her pauses. And that terrifies me more than the auditors, because having that level of intimacy with her in the middle of an official stopover is a lapse I can’t afford.

The words we exchanged last night, right after Lara told her I was looking for her, echo in my head again:

“Don’t let it give you a heart attack,” Maika told me, crossing her arms with a seriousness uncharacteristic of her. “As professionals, everything is going to be fine.”

I remember taking a step toward her, feeling attacked.

“I didn’t say you’re doing things wrong,” I replied, defensively.

“You don’t need to file a complaint, Helen. The look of contempt on your face says it all.”

The reproach stung because it contained a half-truth. And half-truths in this business are what cause the worst disasters.

“I’m just demanding that things go according to the rules,” I retorted, clutching the tablet against my uniform. “I won’t tolerate any unforeseen events, and I want headquarters to verify that we officers maintain absolute control of the Marine IV.”

Maika held my gaze for what felt like an eternity, her expression devoid of irony.

“No, Helen. What you want is for everything to be perfect so you can secure that promotion you lost the last time we were on the same contract.”

Maika knew exactly which wound she was touching.

“That’s not fair, Maika,” I whispered.

“Maybe not,” she admitted. “But it’s not a lie either. Tomorrow I won’t step out of line, I promise.”