A Series of Books for the Queen of the Sea

James was waking her up. She was needed right away to help him. Her bathrobe was near at hand and would be plenty of clothing in the warm night. She made her way to the Fullers' cabin, received instructions, and sat with Joan Fuller while George was setting out with Jim and Ron to see how to get help. Joan was clearly dying, but was still alert.

Maria stroked her and held her hand, doing what she could to provide comfort for someone whose paralysis was going to cause her breathing to fail before her mind ceased to work. It was not comfortable work to do, but it was better than running around trying to make radios work, or drive ships at night, or going from cabin to cabin trying to find out who was alive and who was dead. Most of the time, Maria was exceedingly proud of her doctor-husband, but occasionally she wished, for his sake, that he could have a different role in life, one that carried fewer burdens. Not that he didn't bear the burdens well, but going door to door up and down the hall trying to figure out who was alive and who was dead was not a job she envied anyone.