The Titan Drowns: Time Travel Romance by Nhys Glover (highly recommended books .txt) 📕

xml:lang="en-AU">Glancing to the right, she let her gaze caress the handsome Italian. The sick feeling increased, as she thought about him drowning as the Titanic drowned. He was so full of life and joy that he drew her like a magnet. Such a bright light should not burn out so early.

Pia could feel the atmosphere change within her group. They all knew what happened to the À la Carte employees. Except for the female cashiers and one assistant to the chef, they all died; kept below deck by overzealous stewards. This handsome, young man with his merry smile would never see the Wild West and the Indians. His oyster would be his coffin.

‘Have I said something wrong?’ he asked, frowning and looking around at the group as they walked on silently.

‘No, no of course not. Why would you think that? We’re just surprised.’ This was Cara, speaking for them all, her gentle American accent warm and friendly.

‘Do you get to eat all that fancy food that’s left over?’ asked Bart, redirecting the conversation and covering up their reaction admirably.

Their companion laughed. ‘Oh, sí, I eat what is left. I am a bottomless ummm… how do you say?’ He looked at them helplessly, as he searched for the word he was looking for. His command of English was admirable, but there were understandable gaps.

‘Pit,’ supplied Luke with a grin. ‘You’re a bottomless pit. A man after my own heart… or stomach, in this case. They say the food, even in steerage, is good on the Titanic. And lots of it.’

Their new friend looked surprised. ‘Some of you are American?’

‘I’m from Philly,’ Luke went on, and then nodded toward Cara and Jac. ‘My cousins are from New York State. We’re going home after visiting relatives in Sweden and Finland.’

‘So you could tell me all about America then. You are not American?’ The waiter was looking at Pia again, interested in her answer. She blushed.

‘No, I am Swedish. I am going to America with my Irish cousins and their friends and family.’

‘We’re English,’ Jane put in. ‘We met up with the others in London and decided to travel with them.’

‘You are also rolling stones, I think.’

Pia laughed shyly and shrugged. ‘Not me. I have never been anywhere.’

How interesting, it almost felt like the truth. Even though she had Jumped to many countries and many different times in the last six years, most of her life she’d lived on a rural community within the Gaian Confederacy in what was once the Bavarian Hinterland. In those 200 years, she’d worked as a medic and had felt no desire to change location or career. Then, when news of the Child Retrieval Program became common knowledge, she had submitted her name immediately. She still didn’t know what had driven her to make such an uncharacteristic move, or why she was accepted for the position over other candidates.

‘Maybe your heart also leads you to America…’ his deep voice was strangely gentle now, as if they shared a bond, a common goal. It was so incorrect that she shook her head emphatically and looked away.

‘My heart leads me nowhere. I go where I am needed.’

Jane looked over her shoulder at her with a funny expression on her face. ‘Is that why you're here? I had wondered.’

At that moment, they reached an ornate corner building across the road from the railway station and a small figure stepped out of the darkened doorway and hurried toward them.

‘Ah, there you are. I was hoping I would catch you as you passed!’ It was Eilish and she was beaming brightly. She moved into the centre of the group and gave Luke a big hug.

‘Luke, you look fifteen years younger. Amazing what a month away will do for you!’ They laughed as old friends. Pia was surprised. During the prep period of the mission, Eilish and Luke had seemed like polite strangers. How had that changed in a few short weeks? She knew that Luke had Jumped home a week or so into the mission and gone immediately to the medical centre for integration. Up to that point, he had been a rarity in their society, a person still in his Original. Most people integrated with their cloned new bodies as soon as they were ready. She had heard that Luke had not even wanted a clone grown. However, the mission had only been postponed a month while he integrated, so there must have been one prepared for him.

‘I feel like my old self,’ Luke replied, kissing Eilish on the cheek. ‘Thanks to you, Irish.’

‘Damn, you are never going to let go of that are you?’ Eilish exclaimed in amused frustration. Pia didn’t understand what she meant and from the looks exchanged in the group, no one else did either.

‘Everything all right on this end?’ Jac asked Eilish as they all started moving again, this time across the railway tracks and through the gates to the docks.

The crowds were getting denser now as the sun peaked over the rooftops. The sky became a pale blush of blues and greys and Pia was reminded of a sepia photograph.

‘Wonderful. Max is ready for extraction, although…’

‘Mary, let me introduce you to our new friend,’ Luke interrupted hastily, drawing her over so she could see the stranger in their midst. Eilish was startled into silence.

‘We haven’t introduced ourselves,’ Luke said in his broad Philly accent. ‘I’m Ryan Luke O'Riley. They call me Luke, and this here’s my wife, Mary. She’s been visiting friends here in Southampton for a few days. And that’s my son Micky. Irish, this is…?’ He paused and looked at the stranger.

‘Oh, sí, I should have introduced myself earlier. I am Marco Lorenza.’ He gave a little bow as he walked, doffing his cap. In the morning light, his hair was the blue-black of a raven’s wing. In fact, it was not much different in shade or texture to Eilish’s wild locks. Pia’s fingers itched to touch it.

Gasping softly, she curled her fingers into tight balls in her pockets. Where had that thought come from? She never wanted to touch anyone, although she often felt a pleasant warmth if she were placed in a position where cuddling a child in her arms was necessary.

However, this urge was not like that. This was almost a compulsion. Her mind conjured up the silky texture of the soft curls, enticing her to reach out across the short distance between them, to stroke back that black hair from his handsome face.

When he put his cap back on and covered those curls, it was a profound relief.

‘Nice to meet you Marco. You are travelling on the Titanic too?’

‘Sí, I am a waiter on the Titanic.’

Cara interrupted to fill Eilish in. ‘We just met Marco as we were walking down. We told him that you’d been visiting family in Sweden and are now going home. Marco, Mary and Luke have lived in America since they were children.’

She paused, and then pointed at the other members of the group. ‘The sweet young lady at your side is Petra, who is Luke’s Swedish cousin and my half-sister. And this is my husband, Jan, and I am Hilda. The English are Jane and Peter Davenport. We are glad we have had this opportunity to meet you. I don’t think we’ll have that chance again once we’re on board. They’re strict about keeping staff and passengers separate.’

Marco nodded his head in greeting to each person, in turn, as they were introduced. He seemed surprised by the last statement. ‘Is that so? I will be most disappointed not to have a chance of finding out more about America from you.’

By this time, they’d reached the first of the buildings and there were signs pointing in all directions. People were milling around, some of them looking lost, others just waiting. However, they were all getting in the way of the vehicles that were trying to move along the dockside.

‘I will say good-bye, then. It has been good to meet you all.’ Marco turned to Pia and gave her a warm, slightly puzzled smile. ‘I hope I get to see you again before our journey ends.’

And with that, he was gone, moving off at a relaxed lope, his bag swung over his shoulder. He seemed so free and easy, so confident in his direction and his place in the world that Pia envied him.

However, in the next second, she realised how misplaced her envy was. This handsome, young man’s dream of America would be swallowed up by the cold Atlantic Ocean in a few short days. There was nothing for her to envy there. The sudden, wrenching grief that thought evinced was overwhelming. She felt tears stinging her eyes and she blinked them back.

There would be many she would meet in the coming days who would be living their final hours. She couldn’t hope to save everyone. But there were those she could rescue, and that was what she needed to focus on. That was why they were here.

The others, like this young man, would have to be let go. They couldn’t save everyone.

Why did that thought, which had always been her mantra in the past, now seem like a cruel and blatant cop-out? How could she be expected to stand back and watch that young man die so blithely? It almost felt like she was willingly allowing her own heart to be cut out of her chest.

However, that was exactly what she would be forced to do. Because, no matter how she felt about it, her mantra was the truth: They couldn’t save everyone.

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

Lizzie

 

It was just after nine when Lizzie finally reached the huge gates that led to the White Star Line dock. Here the titan sat patiently waiting for the million tiny activities to be done with, so she could leave the land behind and get back to where she belonged – the sea. Craning her neck back, Lizzie tried to see the pale orange stacks that were already billowing threads of steam into the blue sky. However, the ship was too high; all she could see was the endless black side of the liner as it rested against the overcrowded jetty.

People were everywhere, like so many ants in a disturbed nest. She struggled through the crowds toward the sign that indicated the second class passengers' departure point. As one rough lout pushed past her, she lost her balance and almost fell. A strong arm caught and righted her, and for a moment, she felt oddly safe, as if she had found an island in midstream to rest on.

Looking up, she saw that her saviour was a young, good-looking man with dark hair and serious, brown eyes. For a moment, she rested in those warm, earthy depths. Then, giving herself a little shake, she drew back and smiled shakily.

‘Thank you, sir, I thought I was about to fall.’

‘Clumsy oaf should have been more careful. Are you well enough now?’ His voice was a pleasant tenor with an accent that she couldn’t identify. The gentle smile he gave her revealed surprisingly white, straight teeth.

‘Yes, thank you. It is rather hectic, is it not? I am not sure where I am meant to be. I keep looking for the second class signs but…’

‘Where is your husband? Surely, he should be taking care of you in your…’ He stopped and blushed, looking down at the road beneath them. ‘I do apologise. I should not have referred to your delicate condition.’

Lizzie smiled and pressed his jacket-covered arm with her gloved fingers. ‘Think nothing of it. My condition is apparent to anyone with eyes. And I am a widow, travelling alone to New York.’

The young man’s gaze lifted and met hers. There was a burning light in those brown depths now that she didn’t understand.

‘May I assist you to