by Joseph Rubas
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A low murmur ran through the crowd, which had grown in the past ten minutes. Men and women in their nightclothes stood back from the boats while officers uncovered them and swung them out. Steaming rushing from valves in the funnel made it difficult to hear; Seward was reminded of the sound a train made as it pulled into station, only multiplied by ten. Some people had left the deck because of the noise. A group waited in the gymnasium while another had gone into the smoking room.
Seward watched as crewmen communicated with each other by gestures. The list was noticeable now, but only slightly.
Back in the warm smoking room, Seward found Van Helsing waiting by the door.
“They’re getting the boats ready,” Seward said.
Van Helsing nodding. Leaning on his cane, he took out his pocket watch. “12:35,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Van Helsing pushed his way through the door and onto the bitterly cold deck. The terrible steam noise suddenly ceased then, and the silence was so total as to be alien. “Thank God!” someone said.
For a long moment, Van Helsing stood where he was and intently watched the crowd; looking for Dracula, Seward supposed. Five minutes after coming out on deck, or maybe ten, the officers began loading the first boat. The process took longer than it should have because the officers (one of them Murdoch, Seward noted) had to practically beg women to get in; no one believed the ship was sinking. In fact, come to think of it, Seward hadn’t heard anything about it sinking at all. Did these people even know what was happening? The list forward was presently quite pronounced. Certainly the others noticed it as well.
“Come on, John,” Van Helsing finally said.
Seward shuffled behind Van Helsing like a faithful child. When they had finally quitted the thick of the crowd, and space on deck permitted, Seward moved to Van Helsing’s side, and placed a steadying hand on his upper arm. Van Helsing almost flashed a warning to back up or lose that hand, but he kept quiet.
“What are you planning, Doctor?” Seward asked as they put the bright lights behind them, and entered the blissful dim of the forward bridge.
“I mean to calculate Titanic’s position.”
There was thoughtful silence from Seward. “By the stars?”
“Yes,” Van Helsing replied.
More silence.
“How does one do that? I’ve heard of it being done, but I’ve never tried myself.”
Van Helsing said, as they came to a stop in a spot dim enough to allow a beautiful view of the sky and the stars, “You take two stars for the latitude. And two for longitude. One star north and one star south, one star east, and one star west. If you find a major discrepancy between eastern and western stars, you know that there is a mistake somewhere.”
“Ahh,” Seward said as if it made perfect sense to him, which it did not. Maybe Van Helsing didn’t explain it well enough, or maybe Seward was dumbing down in his advancing age. How did one the longitude and latitude from that?
Van Helsing was currently looking up at the stars, whispering soft German to himself. Seward craned his neck, and peered up. The black sky was profoundly deep, and the cold twinkling stars were poignantly moving. So much beauty was to be had in this world.
“Okay,” Van Helsing said thoughtfully. “It looks as if we are at 41 46’ North, 50 14’ West.”
“Amazing,” Seward marveled lowly, looking from the sky to his mentor, who stood cast darkly in shadows. “And you are sure it is right?”
“Right enough to give to the wireless men; right enough to save lives.”
The two men at once began strolling aft, toward the wireless hut. Up the deck, under the bright orange lights, the crowd of wealthy passengers still stood clustered, watching the officers at their work. A few people had drifted away, and the officers, either not noticing or not at the moment caring, offered not a word of protest.
“Wait here for a moment, John,” Van Helsing when they had reached the door to the wireless hut. John nodded, and crossed his arms over his chest for warmth. Van Helsing wiped a string of snot from his nose with the back of his icy right hand and entered the warm room.
Along with the heat, the first thing to greet Van Helsing’s ears was the constant click-click-click of the Marconi machine. Van Helsing knew a bit about Continental Morse, and knew at once that the call being sent was CQD, come quickly, danger.
The young man from previous visits was again standing over his senior officer, who sat ever hunched over the apparatus, determinedly tapping out calls for assistance.
The young man noticed Van Helsing, patted the older man on his shoulder, and came forward.
“’Lo sir, can I ‘elp you?”
“Yes,” Van Helsing said and leaned against the countertop, his side and chest suddenly sore anew from his encounter with the man-in-black. “I’ve calculated our position to aid in your…”
“Oh, thanks sir, but officer Boxhall’s already done that. We’re at 41 50’ North, 50 14’ West. What did you get?”
“Exactly that,” Van Helsing said, a smile spreading across his face. This Boxhall deserved to replace that asinine Murdoch as First Officer.
“Well, that’s good to know,” the young man said, Van Helsing just know realizing that he was not fully dressed. He was still in his underclothes; he must have been asleep when Titanic struck the berg. “If two men can figure our place like that, then we know that we’re sendin’ right.”
He looked over his shoulder and cried, “Hey, Jack, this man ‘ere agrees with Mr. Boxhall on our positionin’.”
The other man, in a light blue coat and a pair of headphone over his ears, turned and nodded.
“Well, I was only trying to help.”
“Oh, thank you very much, not many men would ‘ave thought of it.”
Van Helsing nodded and smiled. He turned, and was just about to push the door open, when from outside the door was pulled open and in walked Smith, in his cap and heavy blue coat. He smiled and Van Helsing and offered him his hand.
“Good evening, Doctor Van Helsing. I just saw Doctor Seward and he told me you were in here, so I thought I’d see how things are.”
“They are fine, Captain,” Van Helsing said, “as fine as they can be at a time like this.”
Smith nodded soberly, “Yes, a terrible time for all involved. But, hopefully, these two young gentlemen here can save our skins, so to speak.”
“SOS,” the young man said with a snicker from behind the countertop. Smith was uncomprehending for a moment, but then smiled on realizing what the young wireless operator meant.
“Yes. Bride, what are you sending, anyway?”
“CQD, sir, just that,” the young man replied, and then to his Senior Officer, “you might wanna send SOS, it’s the new call, it may be your last chance to use it.”
Spontaneous laughter claimed all in the room, including Smith. It felt, at least to Van Helsing, like a release of steam, of fear and frustration. Since learning that Dracula was back in business, it felt as if a great weight had been upon his chest, and it had been worse since discovering that the Titanic was doomed.
“Yes, hopefully not,” Van Helsing said with a weak smile. “If you’ll excuse me, Captain…”
Smith nodded.
Van Helsing left the hut, the cold hitting him like a train as soon as he stepped onto the deck; at once his nose began to run. He put his hand on Seward’s shoulder and squeezed. “It appears that an officer has already done what I did, which is good; it affirms my belief that I am right.”
“You needed not assure yourself,” Seward said from faraway, “I knew all along that you were correct.”
“Thank you, John.”
Without word, both men began walking back up the deck, each grimly quiet, noticing that the list had increased even more.
