Titanic Sinking: Episode 1 Read online

  * * *

  In my dream, my vision drifted outside the modest home and into the dirt streets outside. Huddled against the very residence of the Stevens family were Whitman and Hornsby! If anyone had stopped to notice them, they would seem most incongruent with their settings. Both men still wore their fine suits, yet they stood against the rough wood walls of the Stevens’ house.

  They appeared as if they were listening intently, attempting to hear every word through the walls. Because I was in a dreamlike state, I’ll never know if my own mind introduced the next thought or if it was the will of God that I understand. In that moment, as I watched them I came to understand that they were not only listening to the conversation, but they were intervening in the conversation.

  The thought terrified me at once.

  These men, though my dreams long before proved them not to be just ordinary men, were nudging the father’s resolve with only their minds. Not to say that they got into a battle of wits; these men controlled the thoughts of the man without saying a single word to him.

  What sort of madness is this that one man may change another’s firm conviction simply by willing it to be so? An idea so firmly fixed in a man’s head should take years and solid proof to undo.

  As it was, Stevens had his approval to visit the coast and become an apprentice on a ship set for sea.

  5.

  My vision flashed further in the future, and I saw the captain onboard the Albatross once more. This was apparently the same day I had witnessed earlier, in which the captain arrived aboard the ship for the first time.

  As he and the other ship’s officers discussed plans for the upcoming voyage while exploring the ship, he passed many people onboard that he apparently already knew. Though the acknowledgements were subtle, he gave brief head nods to several people along the way: everyone from fellow officers to members of housekeeping to various wait staff.

  His acknowledgements, however, did not extend to everyone he passed. There were plenty of others he completely ignored. Even other officers that passed by and saluted were summarily dismissed as he moved on to what he felt were more important matters.

  Not all who looked on seemed friendly toward the captain. Whether he did not notice or simply did not deem the threatening looks as worthy of his time, I cannot say. A few men and women looked with such pure hatred. What they could possibly be so upset about was a mystery. Though the man had seemed a pawn manipulated by the subtle maneuvers of his teachers, I hardly saw him as a threat to those around him. Perhaps he had some unnatural gifting at the sea that allowed him to advance in rank more quickly than he ought, but this was hardly reason for such open hostility.

  The captain walked at ease, as though he had already been on the ship a thousand times. I could scarcely believe the sheer size of the rooms and the decks. Why, perhaps the entirety of the church building could fit inside one of their ballrooms or comfortably on the front deck looking out to sea. What a surprise that would be to the parishioners.

  The cost of a single chandelier was probably more than many of the men could hope to make in a year or even two. How many of the passengers would notice such elegance? If this ship were designed for people of means, would they even consider the great care that had gone into the construction of every staircase or the practiced eye that picked out the color schemes?

  As the captain walked along the deck making inspections, a deckhand passed by and locked eyes with the captain for only the briefest of moments. The action in itself was entirely unremarkable, though the results were a terrifying glimpse into darkness.

  When the two locked eyes, I saw what the captain saw. How or why, I still do not know. The Almighty’s purposes in these visions are far beyond me. But visions of strange, alien environments popped before my eyes.

  In some of the glimpses, the captain rode in a box car that descended down the side of impossibly large caverns into a city of lights. Though I’ve never been to London, I cannot imagine the city possibly casting off as much light as that sprawling underground metropolis did.

  In other glimpses, the captain sat with several crewmembers and other people from the ship in a lecture setting, yet the presenters were not human. They were frail imitations of humanity, with thin features that looked like deformities on God’s design. These creatures pointed to enormous moving images that covered entire walls. Though the visions passed so quickly in front of my eyes, I was able to understand that one of the images was a blueprint of a large ship. Only the Albatross could have a blueprint like the one I saw. The level of detail and the number of compartments was staggering.

  (Though the glimpse of the captain with some of the people from the ship partially explained why the captain knew those people, the vision raised far more questions. Why was he gathered with them? Was the vision something that really happened or will happen? What was wrong with the poor man or creature who gave the presentation?)

  Several other moments passed before my eyes, but I could not comprehend them. They passed so quickly that they were like blurs of multi-colored lights.

  The captain was similarly overwhelmed, and he staggered under the onslaught of visions. By the time his vision – and my vision – had been restored, the deckhand was lunging for him, a straight razor in his hand. Stevens let out a cry and backed away but not before his attacker cut a gash into his arm.

  The captain fell back to the ground, where he clutched at the wound. The blood quickly soaked the front of his white uniform with a deep crimson. By the time he glanced back up, the attacker was already unconscious and bearing a fresh red mark that was already swelling on his left cheekbone.

  “Get him down to the brig!” Officer Morris bellowed. Officer Morris was a mountain of a man, perhaps six and a half feet tall and built like an ox. Not surprisingly, his right fist was bright red from an impact with a hard object, like a man’s cheekbone, for instance. Men scurried to obey his wishes, and they half-dragged, half-carried the attacker away.

  Even as they pulled the man away from the captain, I thought how odd it was that a luxury cruiser should have a place to store prisoners. To be fair, I have never been aboard a luxury cruise ship, so I can not say how they are normally supposed to work.

  The doctor quickly arrived to attend to Stevens’ arm.