Titanic, 1912 (The Symbiont Time Travel Adventures Series, Book 5): Young Adult Time Travel Adventure

by T. L. B. Wood

  “But he does,” I replied. “Improbable, just like Gracie, but he makes it and goes on to live a long life. Those two men literally went down with the ship, ended up in the freezing water and swam to the overturned collapsible lifeboat.” I shook my head in wonder. “They must have the quality found in some humans that makes them incapable of surrender.”

  We drew back close to the foyer of the Promenade Deck where the Grand Staircase spiraled gracefully down through several levels of the ship. The band was assembled there and started up an energetic “Great Big Beautiful Doll” that had people laughing and singing along, tapping their feet. A few couples began to dance, their movements as much a testament to the lilting music as it was to the freezing temperatures. People were clothed in a variety of attire, from formal evening wear to pajamas and dressing gowns. Bruce Ismay pushed past us, his face drawn and tense, robe cinched tightly about his narrow waist, leather slippers flapping loudly on the deck.

  Murdock was busy loading women, children and men into the lifeboats, taking position on the opposite side of the ship from Lightoller. His worried thoughts were clear: Murdoch was concerned that the boats, if filled to capacity, would not hold up to the weight, and he feared they’d collapse, dumping passengers out into the Atlantic on the way down. He planned on loading additional people from a gangway hatch later on and had no way of knowing that hatch would be submerged before it could be used. Thomas Andrews was threading his way through the crowds, encouraging people to get in the lifeboats; his desperation was heart wrenching. Even though the passengers were not overly concerned, Andrews knew the ship was doomed. He glanced up and saw me, huddled in Peter’s coat, my hand resting lightly on Kipp’s broad head. Andrews shook his head from side to side but didn’t approach, his mouth twisted in an apologetic smile. I guess he figured I’d refuse to leave Kipp. Turning away, he began to aggressively hustle a couple of hesitant women to get into Lifeboat 5.

  It must have been almost 1 a.m., because the first of the emergency rockets was fired. And that’s when things started to change. As the people stared up to watch the white flash pop against the dark sky, their faces were illuminated with a ghostly pallor that seemed horribly prophetic. I suppose the act of a ship advertising she was in distress caused the collective mood to become agitated. A crowd near me panicked and rushed towards a lifeboat as a group of men took up position, defending the lifeboat from being swamped and restricting entry. There were some elbows thrown and a few bursts of threatening language, but other than that, control was quickly asserted.

  The fear from the assembled people escalated and intensified at that point. Many were still convinced the Titanic would not sink, and the thought of being lowered, in a comparatively small wooden boat, down the towering metal side of the huge liner, was a more terrifying prospect than staying aboard. Men began to prod their wives to take the children and board for safety sake. As I watched Murdock prepare to lower away, I clenched my fists, wanting to shout at him to put more people in the boat so more lives could be saved. However, he was fighting against people who didn’t want to leave the Titanic as well as his own concern that lowering a full lifeboat could be dangerous. As a woman’s husband insisted that she take her seat leaving him behind, I was unable to watch the tearful goodbyes, and Kipp and I walked away, trying to determine who was being seated and if the stories of steerage passengers deliberately obstructed from their place in a lifeboat were true. There did seem to be a higher concentration of first class passengers, but as I watched, I realized they had the quickest access to the decks where the lifeboats were kept. So, as Lightoller and Murdock began seating people, they just pulled from whoever was standing close by. Closing my eyes, I read the thoughts of the two men and understood there was no ill intent to prefer one class of people over another. They just wanted people–any people—to take a seat. The launching of the half empty lifeboats would be a source of endless criticism as well as speculation. I guess one had to be present, as was I, to understand how all the elements combined to make a looming disaster even worse.

  Margaret Brown, dressed in a black and white traveling suit, was waiting patiently to be seated in Lifeboat 6. Turning her head, she saw me and waved me towards her so that she could secure me a spot. Knowing her strong personality and resolve, I was fearful she might try and pursue me and thus endanger herself. I shook my head, backing away as I quickly melted into the crowd. Kipp closed his eyes, concentrating.

  “She’s in the lifeboat now,” he said, as I relaxed my tense shoulders. “But it wasn’t pretty, and she used some, uh, rude language as she was roughly shoved in to fall several feet until she landed hard in the bottom of the boat.”

  I think, in retrospect, the rigid thinking characteristic of that era is what doomed the steerage passengers, many of whom never even had a chance to leave the lower levels. In 1912, immigration regulations kept the steerage passengers segregated for one reason…the fear of communicable diseases. In many places the entryways were barricaded while some were eventually breached. Also, many steerage passengers didn’t speak English and, no doubt, became hopelessly lost as they followed the confusing maze of hallways. I’d found navigating the decks a challenge, and I’d studied the plans before I’d arrived. I did note a steward, and I’d not seen him before, dutifully trundling small convoys of steerage passengers to the upper deck so they’d have a chance to get in a lifeboat. He was one of the quiet, unsung heroes of the night, carrying out his responsibilities until the end. Another aspect of a tiered society was the reality that many of the third class passengers were willing to wait patiently for their turn, which would never come. Yes, there were those aboard who viewed the steerage passengers with a falsely superior attitude as well as some outright loathing of particular ethnic groups, but I didn’t encounter a wholesale conspiracy to purposely deny them salvation.

  The massive liner was sinking by the bow as more and more water rushed in, causing spill over due to the poorly designed bulkheads. As the tilt of the deck began to increase, people became more eager to secure a spot in a lifeboat, space came at a premium…and that’s when the agitation amongst the people escalated to hysteria.

  Chapter 25

  Kipp remained focused on the activity on the bridge, ears pricked forward, his expression intense. “I’m listening to Captain Smith,” he said, as we both moved quickly aside as a quartet of people rushed past us, their faces pale and drawn from the cold; uncertainty bred fear as they raced down the deck. “I’m not sure what has happened to him, but he can’t think what to do. It’s almost as if he is frozen, unable to take any action. He’s just standing on the bridge, staring at all the people milling around.” Kipp twisted his head to look at me. “It’s obvious that the other officers took control to try and save people. What’s happened to him?”

  “I don’t know, Kipp. People can have emotional breakdowns, and I guess he has. Their anxiety can become so great they become paralyzed.” I paused to watch a determined Murdock, assisted by a male passenger, force a screaming middle aged woman into a lifeboat. She was modestly dressed, lacking a coat and would no doubt suffer as result of the exposure. I wanted to offer her my heavy coat, but even a gesture that minor could change the arc of her life and was too risky. Murdock was handling her by the cumbersome life preserver she wore, grabbing the straps to maneuver her about; his anxiety made him less than gentle. Even though the air temperature was below freezing, sweat covered his face in small beads. I guess the warmth of his skin kept the sweat from freezing, too. “Smith will go down in history being criticized for not having taken more action during all of this, but I guess he was crippled and just couldn’t.”

  Someone with a sympathetic heart had released the dogs from the kennel, and the beasts must have followed their instinct for freedom and seemed startled to find themselves on the upper deck running frantically in pack formation, their paws scrabbling on the wood surface, dodging people as they swerved around a corner to disappear from view. Kipp looked up at me, his
expressive face sad. “They don’t understand. The noise combined with the anxiety of the people is terrifying to them.” He sighed and gazed off into the night. “They think they can run away from this and find a safe harbor.”

  Pulling off my gloves, I reached down to gently caress his ears. I needed to touch him without the barrier of fabric between us. We were on the move again, making our circuits, noting the increasing elevation of the deck as we drew near Lightoller’s station. A young woman, the one we’d seen when we first boarded, approached him with her Great Dane, which seemed calm and well behaved, as opposed to the other dogs that raced past us at high speed. There was too much noise to hear the conversation, and I lacked the heart to listen in telepathically. I knew what happened without having to eavesdrop…the dog was too large and would not be permitted to board with his mistress. Actually, only a couple of dogs survived, small things hidden by their mistresses in folds of clothing. The young woman nodded her head and walked away, the dog at her side. The massive beast glanced up at her worried face a time or two, wagging his tail as if to comfort her. As she drew near me, her head lifted; she smiled–I noticed her lips were trembling—and raised an eyebrow. I couldn’t meet her even gaze and stared, instead, at the malignant ocean, watching a lifeboat that had been lowered earlier bob lightly in the water, small waves beating at its wooden sides, as it became enveloped by the darkness and was lost to sight. Kipp and I both knew the destiny of the woman who would not go without her faithful companion.

  “I love you,” Kipp said, his soft words welcomed in the back of my mind.

  “Ditto, kid,” I replied.

  “Maybe you were right.” His voice seemed small and quiet against the surrounding chaos. “This is terrible to watch, the anguish of so many minds, families ripped apart…I should have listened to you, Petra. I’m sorry.” Kipp’s ears drooped as did his normally perky tail that was usually held high like a proud flag.

  “We’re not going there,” I replied, my voice firm. “I agreed to this, and you should know by now that you can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do–despite the fact I whine about having done so.” As a small crowd of people hurried towards us, Kipp and I jumped back to avoid being trampled. The ship settled more deeply in the water, as the bow took on the weight of the ocean; the Titanic’s frame groaned from the burden on the metal. “When you look at all of this, remember these people will all be dead by the time we get home, even the youngest survivor.” I made my voice deliberately harsh. “This is just history, and that’s all it is.”

  “Yeah, right,” Kipp replied. He recognized my tough, uncaring voice for what it was–false bravado.

  I paused to ask another man for the time while regretting the fact I’d not thought of having a time piece of my own. It was almost a quarter after one, and people were becoming increasingly agitated as time passed. Our path took us back by Lightoller, who was stationed at Lifeboat 8. Despite the extreme cold, his face was red and wet with sweat, like Murdock’s. Colonel Gracie and another man I’d not met were trying to persuade an older woman to get in the boat. She refused to leave her husband. I knew she must be Mrs. Straus who would linger famously in history as the one who chose to die with her husband. Watching, I saw the couple walk towards a line of deck chairs, struggling a little against the cold that made it difficult to breathe. Mr. Straus made certain his wife was comfortable, tucking her coat about her and fussing over her before he took his place. Their faces were relaxed since their choice had been made to remain together. Kipp tilted his head to the side as they stretched out their arms so that they could hold hands.

  “That is love, isn’t it?” he asked, looking up at me.

  “Yes, Kipp. That is love.”

  We approached Lifeboat 14 when several men rushed the officer who was stationed there. Fifth Officer Lowe, as a warning, pulled out his firearm and fired a round into the night sky, the sound echoing across the water. His action seemed to restore order for the moment, although one would wonder if it was preferable to be shot versus falling into the freezing water. Overall, despite the fact people were fearful and desperate, there was no wholesale mutiny as in groups of people attempting to commandeer the small lifeboats. Maybe it was another indicator of the times that people would wait until they were told what they should do. Ismay and the governing board had decided to have the minimum number of lifeboats required by law, since more would have left the boat deck cluttered and the aesthetics of the graceful lines of the ship would have been diminished. In each of the officers was the nagging thought that surely a ship would be along soon to start removing the passengers before the Titanic sank. After all, the shipping lane was busy and well populated by other vessels, and the Titanic had been sending distress signals for some time.

  Kipp pinged Elani and received one in response. She and Peter were in the smoking lounge again, marveling over the fact the same quartet of men were playing bridge, despite the alarming angle of the deck.

  A few minutes later, the ship lurched, taking a severe list to port. The officers ordered everyone to run over to the starboard side to try and correct the issue as the bow of the liner dipped further under the water. Amazingly, the tilt began to slowly balance for the time being. People tend to sometimes think of ships as living creatures, and I almost thought I felt the Titanic shudder, as if she was trying to avoid the inevitable.

  I decided to return to the smoking lounge and pick up Peter and Elani. As I did, I passed John Astor, who was standing with his hands on the railing, staring into the darkness, his face a pallid mask. Madeline, pregnant with his child, was off in one of the lifeboats, lost to her husband in the void. His Airedale, Kitty, moved restlessly at his feet, her anxiety clear as she whined, staring up at Astor, who was oblivious to her distress. I guess he had too much worry of his own to share hers. Benjamin Guggenheim, good to his promise, was dressed in his white tails and waited, a brandy sniffer in hand, to go down in style. His poor valet stood next to him in his best attire, having no choice in the matter. The valet’s worried eyes caught mine, and I tried to smile, but my face felt frozen from the cold. The best I could manage was a tightening of my lips.

  The Titanic dipped further by the bow, the metal superstructure moaning again in protest, and I heard the crash of things falling, probably nick knacks from table tops as well as chairs toppling. It was now becoming more of a challenge to walk uphill, but we arrived at the smoking lounge, where the few last holdouts were finishing their card game, seemingly unconcerned with the fact the ship was sinking beneath their feet. I peeked inside and almost swore…no Peter and Elani!

  “When I find them…” I began but didn’t need to finish my threat because at that moment they arrived.

  “Tell me fast,” I ordered. There was no time for embellishments or anything else. The Titanic lurched again, settling more deeply in the water, as I grabbed at a door facing. That last jolt seemed to awaken the card players, who glanced around with startled expressions. With nods at one another and murmured words, they rose and left, leaving us symbionts alone for a moment.

  “Littleton, when he realized the ship is sinking, set the bomb timer in his room. He has no idea what type of damage he can do due to the location of his room, but he will detonate it if he can.” Peter glanced over his shoulder, as if he was afraid someone might be listening. “He’s already left C Deck and is up on the Boat Deck trying to get a spot in a lifeboat.”

  I stared at Peter and Elani, my mind working fast. Within a half hour, the Promenade Deck would be flooded, along with the First Class Smoking Lounge and the Reading and Writing room on the A Deck. We were running out of time.

  “Petra?” Kipp’s voice was heard only by me. “I want to find Thomas Andrews and stay with him until we have to leave,” he said.

  “Have you lost your mind?” I glared at him. “Kipp, we really don’t have time to indulge your fancy,” I added, my voice harsh.

  “He comes to the smoking lounge and was last seen there by members of
the crew,” Kipp replied, ignoring my unkind comments. “I want to spend our last moments with him.” He shrugged his massive shoulders, rolling his head to dispel built up tension. “Let’s get Peter and Elani off the ship, and then you and I will go say goodbye to Andrews.” He stared at me. “It’s something I need to do.”

  “Why?” I asked staring at him, my mouth hanging inelegantly open.

  “History would suggest he was alone at the end. I want to change that,” Kipp replied, staring defiantly at me. He braced himself as the deck tilted a degree more, his paws finding traction in the fine carpet.

  Not having time to argue with him, I walked ahead, followed by the others until I found a cabin, empty, its door hanging open, the interior lit dimly by the gimbal lamp. Hurrying, I pushed Peter and Elani inside, followed by Kipp.

  “Okay, you two need to leave now,” I ordered. Peter opened his mouth to argue but realized this was one time he needed to listen and be wise. Kipp and I moved back, remaining quiet, so as to allow the youngsters to focus. Peter sat on the floor, his legs crossed under him; Elani pushed close as Peter looped his arm around her neck. The last thing I saw were her beautiful dark eyes glancing up at me before they lost their piercing clarity as the margins of her and Peter’s bodies gracefully blended into the surroundings of the room and soundlessly disappeared.

  “It’d be nice if there was a lightning bolt or something dramatic when that happens,” Kipp remarked. “Shazam!”

  Despite the harsh reality of our current situation, I had to laugh, keeping my voice soft. The same thought had occurred to me on many occasions.