Titanic 2020

'Captain Smith or Pedroza?'

'Pedroza is the horse's arse,' said Jimmy.

'You have a foul mouth, Jimmy Armstrong. But accurate in this case.'

'To the bridge then.'

They worked out a pretty lame story on the way there, but in the end didn't have to use it. Pedroza had retired seasick to his penthouse cabin and left a squad of grey-faced guards in charge of the bridge. Captain Smith and First Officer Jeffers were hunched over their computer screens, debating their course, when Jimmy and Claire hurried in, soaked by the torrential rain sweeping the decks.

Jeffers saw them approaching first and immediately snapped: 'Not now — we're busy! Out!'

Claire started to turn away, but Jimmy stood his ground. 'Captain — sir . . . you said it was important to record everything. We're still doing that.'

The Captain's eyes flitted up, and for a moment they twinkled happily. 'Yes — so I hear. Very well, my young friends — this is the situation.' He waved them forward, then glanced up at the guards and lowered his voice. 'For the past few days we've been driven west by a hurricane that's been developing off the coast of the Dominican Republic. However, now there's a second one coming in from the Atlantic and we're caught right between them.'

'That, ahm, doesn't sound good,' said Jimmy.

'Can we outrun them?' Claire asked.

'That would be a distinct possibility,' said the Captain, 'if we weren't about to run out of fuel.'

'What?' said Claire. 'But we only just. . .'

'We're a big ship and we use a lot of fuel. That's why it was so important to stick to the itinerary — that way we could always rely on the supplies waiting for us on our islands. We had just enough fuel for a straight run to Miami, but any deviation was always going to cost us. I'm sorry to tell you that quite soon we'll be running pretty much on fumes alone.'

'But . . .' Jimmy began, 'if we've no . . . and we . . . and then the hurricanes . . .'

'We'll be smashed to pieces,' said Captain Smith. 

33 The Olympic

Jimmy wrote another headline for the Times: WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE — AGAIN.

'I don't think that's funny,' said Claire.

Jimmy shrugged. 'What do you think, Ty?'

'Uggggghhhhhhshhhhiiiiiittt,' said Ty, who was throwing up in the bathroom. He had recovered from the Red Death, but now claimed he was dying of seasickness.

'I think he likes it,' said Jimmy. 'And he'll love this one . . .'

Claire looked at the screen.

VOMITING PASSENGERS CREATE NEW WORLD RECORD.

'Jimmy — have you gone mental on me?'

'I thought it was kind of interesting. Jonas Jones tells me that this heap of junk was designed to be environmentally friendly, so no waste gets pumped into the ocean. It's all kept right here. So if this is the biggest cruise ship in the world, and virtually everyone on board has been throwing up nonstop for the past few hours, then I'm certain that we must have broken some kind of world record for the greatest amount of vomit to be found in any one location. Wouldn't you say?'

'You are mental.' .

At that precise moment the lights went out. They were now in complete darkness but for the glow from the battery powered laptop they were using to write and design the Times.

'Have I died?' Ty called from the bathroom.

'Not yet,' said Jimmy. He looked at Claire's ghostly face in the light from the screen. 'They're trying to save power. They did warn us.'

Claire nodded grimly. 'The sea's getting rougher. You can feel it.'

***

They had moved back and forth between the bridge and this temporary newspaper office several times in the past few hours, gathering information as subtly as they could under the watching eyes of the guards. On their last visit Pedroza had recovered sufficiently from his seasickness to have a blazing row with Captain Smith, who wanted to have the passengers standing by to board the lifeboats. Pedroza maintained that no one was going to leave the Titanic until he said so. Captain Smith said they would have to use the lifeboats before all power was lost, because as soon as the engines failed the ship could easily overturn in the high seas. Pedroza finished the argument by holding a gun to the Captain's head and yelling, 'No lifeboats.'

The rain was still lashing the decks as they made their way back to the bridge. Much to their surprise they found it wasn't all doom and gloom, but the scene of sudden and intense activity. Half of Captain Smith's officers had their faces pressed to their computer screens, the others were standing at the front window with binoculars raised, scouring the waves. Pedroza stood with them, anxiously puffing on a cigar. Claire recognized the aroma. She was sure it was one of her dad's. She was just beginning to imagine that Pedroza must have done something awful to him, when she saw Mr Stanford standing just a few metres away, puffing his own cigar and scanning the waves. Last time she'd checked on him he'd been refusing to leave his bedroom, so this was a real surprise. She hurried up and tugged his arm.

'Daddy — what is it?'

'It's the Olympic, Claire!'

'Are you sure?'

'Radar confirms it! Just trying to raise her!' He lowered his glasses for the first time and looked along the line of officers and mutineers scanning the mountainous seas. 'A dozen cigars to the first man who spots her!'

Jimmy didn't know what they were talking about.

Claire turned suddenly and gave him a hug. 'It's fantastic!'

' What is?'

'It's the Olympic! Our sister ship!'

'Our what?'

'Jimmy! Our sister. She was built in Belfast last year! She's slightly smaller — but who cares? Daddy thought the whole fleet was lost — but she's out there . . . and if she has enough fuel we can transfer some and get out of the way of the hurricanes!'

'There she is!' First Officer Jeffers yelled suddenly. 'All lit up like a Christmas tree!' He pointed, and half a dozen sets of binoculars shifted.

'It's her, by God!' cried Mr Stanford. 'We're not finished yet! Look at her, Claire, isn't she beautiful!' He handed Claire his glasses.

It took her just a moment to focus in, and then she let out a little yelp of excitement. 'Look, Jimmy, look!' She passed them on.

Jimmy had to admit the Olympic was a fantastic sight to behold, storming through the waves like . . . he was already thinking of how to write the story . . . like an avenging angel.

'Any contact, Mr Benson?' Captain Smith asked.

'No, sir, not yet, sir!' shouted the young radio operator.

'What course is she making, Mr Jeffers?'

Jeffers quickly returned to his computer screen and studied it intently. 'She's . . . erratic, Captain.'

'She must see us by now! Try raising her again!'

But there was still no response from the Olympic. They tried several different methods of contacting her, but without success. As the two ships drew closer Captain Smith and his crew grew more and more anxious.

'What's wrong?' Pedroza demanded. 'Why are they not responding?'

'Maybe they're sick,' said Jeffers.

Captain Smith nodded grimly.

Pedroza looked from one to the other. 'You are planning something. You've sent secret messages.'

'No,' the Captain responded simply.

Pedroza jabbed the gun at him. 'Then we board her, take her fuel.'

'Impossible,' said Jeffers. 'Not in these conditions.'

Pedroza exploded: 'We have no fuel! We will die here! We must!'

Jeffers shook his head. 'If the Olympic is drifting out of control and we try and get any closer she could smash into us and then we'll both go down. We must keep trying to contact her, and keep our distance for now. That way we have a slim chance of pulling through. Captain?'