Titanic 2012 Part 22

I watched the sunrise up on the Boat Deck. The icy wind cut through my light clothes, but I didn't feel it. My mind was too preoccupied with all I'd seen and heard since boarding in Southampton. I could hardly believe only three days had pa.s.sed. My heart told me it was far longer. Suddenly, I remembered something Julia said to me once: That time does not elapse for the human heart, that one moment could last a lifetime.

With Maddy, it would have to....

Right then, for the first time since Harlan had revealed the truth about her, and after hearing her heart wrenching story, the full weight of her impending mortality bore down upon me. I started to cry, the wind blowing the tears back against my ears.

"Oh, Maddy, I've just found you. I don't want to lose you!"

I saw someone turn the corner of the deck at the bow end of the starboard side, and I recognized the figure as that of Captain Pierce. He walked slowly and with what appeared to be a great deal of pain. What would make a man stick to his duty in spite of such excruciating agony, especially when it didn't really matter? I shook my head in disbelief and frank admiration. He walked by me, sending me a smart salute, a warm glint in his gentle eyes. I nodded back and was about to offer some parting words, but stopped myself when I remembered my breakfast date with Maddy. First, however, there was something I wanted to check out.

Number Nine lifeboat lay between the third and fourth funnels on the starboard side, just forward of the Aft Grand Staircase skylight. I went there now, wanting to see if Harlan had been telling the truth.

Climbing up onto one of the Welin davits, I worked loose one end of the canvas covering and peeked in.

It was hot and airless inside, smelling of must and canvas, and the heavy fabric was so thick almost no light penetrated, and only from where I'd loosened it. I couldn't see much, except for a few vague bundles and something that looked like a barrel. I breathed a sigh of relief and replaced the canvas. Harlan had spoken the truth.

Now, it was time to get word to someone about what Harlan planned to do.

Climbing down from the davit, I hurried along the deck to the Wireless Room. As I had hoped, Sammy was on duty.

"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Hughes, how's the book coming along?"

"Fine, Sammy," I said, forcing a smile on my face I did not feel. "I want to send another dispatch."

Sammy's smile slid off his face.

"I'm so sorry, sir, but Mr. Astor has ordered radio silence. We can receive...but no transmissions are allowed for the duration of the voyage."

An icy finger slid up my spine. "But surely you can let me get out my last dispatch...."

"I wish I could, Mr. Hughes, but they've even taken my telegraph key." He pointed to an empty spot on his desk and the two bare wires once hooked to the now missing key. "I couldn't send anything, even if I wanted to."

I was about to protest when I remembered my MacBook. With its cellular function, I wouldn't need the Marconi wireless. Feeling a little foolish, I bade Sammy a cheery good morning and headed down to my suite.

The MacBook was missing from its place inside my dresser. And since the bed had been made, I knew Henry had been there. Fuming, I started out the door toward Harlan's suite, then thought better of it. They didn't want me to get a message out, that much was obvious. But what angered me was that for all of Harlan's eloquent words, he didn't trust me, and that hurt. Besides, going there would only alert them that I knew.

Disgusted, I left the suite and took the Grand Staircase down to D-deck.

I found Maddy at her usual table by the window. Her loving smile turned to a frown of concern when she saw the troubled look on my face. I sat down and quickly brought her up to date.

"What do you think he's going to do?" she asked when I'd finished.

"I honestly don't know, Maddy," I replied. "I thought I knew him, but obviously, I don't."

"Maybe you need to give him the chance."

I was about to offer a reply when a steward came up bearing a bottle of champagne. "Compliments of Captain Pierce, Mr. Hughes," he said, showing me the label. It was a Dom Perignon, 2002 vintage, an exceptional year for that vintner. Unfortunately, I wasn't really in the mood for it, yet to refuse the gift would have been unthinkable. Maddy seemed to sense my reticence.

"How about a mimosa," she offered, "it'll be romantic."

I turned to the steward and nodded my a.s.sent, and he turned and left. He appeared a few moments later with two tall gla.s.ses filled with the mixture of orange juice and the Dom Perignon. I lifted my gla.s.s and turned to the captain's table, nodding my thanks. Curiously, he avoided my gaze. I turned back to Maddy.

"I guess he thinks mixing champagne with orange juice is barbaric. Anyway, here's to us."

Maddy lifted her gla.s.s, a sad smile on her face. "To us," she echoed.

I found the mimosa cold and refres.h.i.+ng, draining it in three swallows. The steward returned and took our food orders, and I opted for the Eggs Benedict, the lightest thing on the menu. While we waited for our breakfast, we talked of our lives prior to meeting. I spoke of my latest novel, and she her last design job. We both knew we were avoiding what was uppermost in our minds, but we needed the respite.

When the food arrived, I dived in, savoring the delicious subtleties of the Hollandaise sauce. And then I suddenly felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the fatigue I'd staved off for the entire night.

"Are you all right?" Maddy said, concerned.

"I think I need a long nap, maybe then I'll be able to make sense of everything."

"You want some company?"

She said this without a trace of coyness, and I knew she meant it to be taken at face value. And the truth was, I didn't want to be alone.

"Yes, I would."

We left the Dining Saloon and took one of the lifts up to B-deck and let ourselves into my suite. Once again, Henry had been in to straighten up. The dizziness overwhelmed me again, and I sat in one of the Biedermeier chairs, while Maddy turned down the bed. She helped me undress and into the bed, then climbed in after me.

"Sleep well, my Galahad," she said.

Her voice echoed, and my head felt as if it were swathed in cotton.

"What did you say?" I said, my tongue thick and clumsy. I tried to sit up and another wave of dizziness washed over me.

"Maddy? What's happening to me?"

And I blacked out....

19.

When I awoke, darkness had fallen; and along with the pale starlight streaming in through the portholes, there came a feeling of vague disquiet. For a full minute I lay there trying to pin it down, trying to figure out what bothered me, a task made all the harder by the ringing in my ears and the dull ache throbbing behind my eyes. Shaking my head to clear it, I sat up with a groan, my muscles crying in protest.

Something wasn't right-something was different.

And then it hit me.

The vibration of the engines had ceased. We'd come to a stop. I fumbled for the light switch and snapped it on, flooding the room with soft amber light.

Maddy was gone.

Her side of the bed was neatly tucked in, and her clothes were no longer piled on one of the Biedermeier chairs, as they had been earlier that day. I got up and padded into the other room. That, too, was empty. It was then I suddenly felt an overwhelming need to relieve myself and ran into the bathroom settling onto the archaic water closet just seconds before I would have had an accident. Another wave of dizziness washed over me when I stood up, and I waited until it pa.s.sed before moving on.

Returning to my own bedroom, I picked up my watch. The hands read: 10:30. I'd slept for over twelve hours, not unusual when I'd stayed up half the night. And then I noticed the day/date windows: SAT 14.

Like a fool, I stood there just staring at the watch face, trying to work out how I could have slept for over twenty-four hours.

I'd been drugged.

That explained why my bowels had been at the bursting point, and why Captain Pierce had avoided my gaze. No doubt Harlan wanted to insure there was no way I could thwart his desire for the ultimate felo-de-se.

A bitter, sulphurous anger shot through me, coupled with a profound sense of helplessness. I grabbed my clothes and pulled them on, all the while trying to formulate what to do next.

Stepping into my shoes, I went to the dresser for my belt and keys.

It was there I spotted the note written on the cream-colored R.M.S. "t.i.tanic" stationery, lying atop my accessories: It's time to leave. Meet me on the Boat-Deck. Love, Maddy.

I folded the note and stuffed it into my trouser pocket. I was happy beyond measure that she was waiting for me, though I was also puzzled she'd gone on ahead. I took one last look around my suite, my eyes coming to rest on the framed black-and-white photograph of Arthur and Emily Ryerson. I bid them a silent farewell and left.

The hallway was completely deserted and for some reason, the lifts were not operating. When I entered the foyer for the Grand Staircase, I also found it devoid of people. Where the h.e.l.l was everyone?

I emerged onto the Boat Deck and immediately spotted two crewmen, Charley and the one he'd called Collins, busily preparing Lifeboat Nine. Maddy stood off to the side. And she was not alone.

With her, leaning on Henry for support, was Harlan, still dressed in his red silk dressing gown, his once l.u.s.trous hair in disarray. I walked up to them, noting their grave expressions.

"What's going on, here, Maddy?" I asked.

"Time for you to go, kiddo," Harlan answered.

"I wasn't talking to you."

Maddy moved toward me, carrying my laptop inside its shoulder case.

She handed it to me and I saw she was crying. The cold terror I felt gripping my heart had nothing to do with the chill breeze now blowing across the deck, making the steel guy wires supporting the funnels sing with a mournful moaning sound.

All else was silence.

I grabbed her by the shoulders, trying desperately not to lose control. I knew if I did, I stood no chance of changing her mind.

"Why, Maddy? I thought we'd agreed to do this together."

She broke down then and clutched me fiercely, each one of her sobs a knife through my heart. Looking over her shoulder, I glared at Henry and Harlan. Suddenly, the s.h.i.+p's tri-tone whistle's blew. Three long, three short, and three long again. S.O.S.

Before I could wonder about the significance of this, my silent question was answered when I saw throngs of pa.s.sengers emerging from every egress point. As with Mrs. Bates' funeral, they did not speak, moving with solemn grace. The took up positions all around us, staring mutely. I couldn't help thinking this was indeed another funeral.

But who's was it? Mine...or theirs?

No longer able to remain silent, I shouted over the wind. "Tell her it's okay to leave, Harlan! Tell them all it's okay."

Harlan shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Trev, but we've come too far to turn back, now. This is the only way left for us."

I looked down at Maddy. "Is this what you really want?"

"No," she said, shaking her head, her voice cracking. "It isn't. But last night, after you fell asleep, Henry came in and we talked. He told me they'd drugged your champagne, that you might try something desperate, and they couldn't allow that."

"What about what we planned, what about our future?"

Her lips trembled. "We have no future, Trevor, we never did. I guess I let myself get swept up in your optimism, and I'll always love you for giving me that one last burst of hope. But the truth is I'm dying, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it."

I started to protest and she put a finger to my lips. It felt burning hot against my skin, as if she were consuming the last of herself at that very moment.

"No, please listen. Hear me out. I love you with all my heart, Trevor. Aside from Matt and little Rudy, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. But I can't go back.... I can't look into my little boy's eyes again and see that hope in his eyes, too, knowing it's all a lie. If I do, I'll be lost forever."

"So, that's it? You're just going to give up the fight?"

She gazed into my eyes then, her own filled with such inexpressible despair. "I've already lost it, Trevor, the battle's over." She pressed the laptop into my hands and backed away. "Tell our story."

"No, Maddy, no!" I screamed, advancing on her. Charley and the other crewman materialized from out of the crowd and grabbed me by each arm.

I struggled, like a fish on a hook, screaming her name. Crying hysterically, she ran into the crowd, which parted to let her in, then closed around her.

"MADDY!"

"Come on, mate, let's not make this any harder," Charley said, his voice tinged with sympathy.

I shot him a smoldering glance and allowed them to move me toward the Number Nine lifeboat, which had been lowered on the davit. I could now clearly see the supplies, and noted there were at least ten days of food and water. So, she had been planning to go, until....

I stopped abreast of Harlan, my eyes filled with hate. "I'll never forgive you for this," I said.

"That's okay, Trev," he said, nodding sadly. "I just hope you'll be able to forgive yourself."

I wanted to leap on him right then, tear his black heart out, but Charley, sensing I might again try something, tightened his grip. "Let's go," he said pus.h.i.+ng me toward the boat.

Resigned to my fate, I let them help me into the lifeboat, and then Charley handed me the satellite phone.

"Remember your promise," he said, drilling me with his dark brown eyes.

"Go to h.e.l.l," I said.

He nodded, a wistful smile creasing his weathered face. "More than likely, mate, more than likely." He turned to the two crewmen manning the davits and shouted: "Lower away!"

They began turning the cranks as fast as they could. The gears creaked and groaned while I descended to the water over fifty feet below. As predicted, the night was calm, the sea like a sheet of obsidian. Tucked in with the food and water, I found several blankets, and I unfolded one, wrapping it around me.

When the boat hit the water, I had no choice but to undo the falls, casting me adrift. The s.h.i.+p's engines started up again, and from where I sat they sounded like the angry rumblings of some ancient sea G.o.d.

Slowly, inexorably, the t.i.tanic moved forward, the silence of the night split by the sound of the s.h.i.+p's tri-tone whistle blowing a long blast in salute.

I looked down at my hands, which still clutched the satellite phone with white-knuckled intensity. My finger hovered over the power b.u.t.ton, and I debated whether or not to make the call then and there, promise be d.a.m.ned. But I knew I wouldn't. Not because I agreed with what they were doing, but because I had given my word. I found myself recalling Harlan's words with bitter irony: It's the only thing I have left.