Titanic 2020

'Or you were. Or Pedroza was unlucky. Anyway, something worked. It knocked you out, and it killed Pedroza. It was horrible . . . but kind of fantastic at the same time. I got his gun and took it downstairs and slipped it to Jeffers when Dolphin wasn't looking, and then he put it against Dolphin's head and advised him to give up. And he did.'

'But . . . but . . . there were still all the other mutineers?'

'Yeah, but there was only about half a dozen of them who really, really wanted to follow Pedroza: most of them just wanted to get back to Miami as quickly as possible. They all have families, relatives, you know? So they didn't put up much of a fight, and now everything's back to normal. We've outrun the hurricanes, and we'll be back in Miami this afternoon.'

'That's . . . incredible . . . it's fantastic! Isn't it?'

'Yes it is. You saved my life.'

'Pedroza dead like that. . .'

'You saved my life.'

'And overpowering the mutineers . . .'

'You saved my life.'

'And even beating the hurricanes . . .'

'You saved my life.'

'Yes,' said Jimmy, 'I realize that.'

'I'll never forget it,' said Claire.

'All right.'

'Why did you do it?'

'Like I said, I tripped. Or fainted.'

'You jumped. You were going to sacrifice yourself for me.'

'I had every confidence in the lucky penny.'

'Jimmy Armstrong — you love me, don't you?'

Jimmy blinked at her. 'Are you sure you didn't get shot in the head?'

'You love me.'

'Claire — I don't even like you.'

That was harsher than he intended, but sometimes when you're cornered you say things you don't especially mean.

It had taken a lot for Claire to say what she said, and his instant rejection hurt. She flared up immediately.

'Why don't you get out of bed anyway? There's nothing wrong with you! For all I know you probably did trip! And I'm glad you don't even like me, because I'm getting off the ship this afternoon, and you'll probably never see me again. Do you hear me? You'll never see me again!'

She stormed out.

38 Farewell

'Well, Jimmy, what's it to be? Are you staying with us?'

Captain Smith stood beside him at the rail outside the bridge, looking down at the dock and the steady stream of people disembarking. They had been leaving like this for the past hour. Without even admitting it to himself, Jimmy was waiting to see if Claire really was leaving the ship. They hadn't spoken since their bust-up.

'I suppose I am,' said Jimmy.

'That's good. We've missed the newspaper these past couple of days, would be good to get it started again. I think it the passengers a lot. And the crew. At least those who are left.'

He had gathered everyone in the theatre shortly before the ship docked and told them that he intended to remain in Miami only as long as it took to refuel and forage for food supplies. He didn't believe the city to be safe, but he understood that many people wished to leave and they were free to do so.

'I didn't think so many would get off,' said Jimmy. 'It's safe here. Even after everything that's happened. Out there . . . isn't everyone dead?'

'We just don't know. Some places the plague hits, like St Thomas, it kills everyone, others — remember San Juan? — there are really quite a lot of survivors. Here, millions are dead for sure, but there will be survivors, there has to be, and if one of them is your son or daughter or dad, wouldn't you want to find them? Or just make sure they get a decent burial? I expect most will take a look around when they get ashore, realize just how bad it is, then get back here quick as they can. Others will try and make it home — might be twenty miles, might be two thousand. But they'll try.' They watched the line of disembarking passengers for several more minutes. 'Mr Stanford wants us to sail up the coast towards Texas; he's pretty certain we'll be able to refuel there. Then we'll just keep going from fuel depot to fuel depot, long as we can.'

'Does that mean the Stanfords are staying on board?'

'No, son. He hasn't the patience. He's going to try and get to the airport. He keeps a private jet there and he's hoping to fly his family out to the Midwest. They own a big farm — ranch, whatever you call it. Not too many people live out there anyway, so he reckons it will be safer than sticking it out on the Titanic or trying to make it in one of the cities.'

'But it's his ship. Doesn't he cares what happens to it, or to the people on it?'

'Of course he does, Jimmy. But he's done all he can do. He's letting us take the ship, he's brought as many passengers as he possibly could right back to port, and now he has to think of his family. I think that's only right.'

Jimmy understood. 'Do you have a family, Captain?'

Captain Smith took a deep breath. 'It sounds very corny, Jimmy . . .' he waved a hand across the prow of the ship, 'but this pretty much is my family.'

'No wife,' said Jimmy.

'Oh yes,' said the Captain, 'but she's an absolute cow. Don't tell anyone, but this plague is the best thing that ever happened to me. Now I've got an excuse not to go home to her.'

He winked at Jimmy, then turned and re-entered the bridge.

Jimmy knew he was only joking.

At least, he thought he knew he was only joking.

***

Twenty minutes later Jimmy spotted Claire as she left the ship with her parents. She had a pink bag slung over one shoulder.

'Claire!'

She didn't look up. He shouted again, but got no response. She was already too far away.

Well.

That was it.

She was gone.

Jimmy sighed.

Good. She was no friend at all. He'd be fine by himself.

He kicked at the guard rail.

And then he started running. He took the stairs six at a time. He moved faster than any elevator. By the time he reached the gangplank he could hardly breathe for the effort of it. First Officer Jeffers was on duty there, with a gun at his side, reminding everyone to check their watches.

'We sail at six, if you're coming back make sure . . .'

'Don't you worry, young man,' the elderly Miss Calhoon was saying, 'my watch has perfect time, and if by any chance I forget to check it, my Franklin will remind me.' Franklin was nestled in her arms. She raised one of his little paws and waved it. 'Won't you, darling? Franklin always— oh!' Miss Calhoon was spun around as Jimmy flew past. Franklin yelped and hid his little head, frightened.

'Jimmy, are you leaving us?' Jeffers shouted after him.

'No!'

Claire was now several hundred metres away along the dock, standing close to the main entrance to the passenger terminal, where, ordinarily, returning travellers would have had to pass through passport control then wait to retrieve their suitcases. But not today. The arriving passengers were hauling their own luggage, and there was nobody there to check their documents. They were back on dry land, but it wasn't the land they'd left. Doors blew back and forth in the stiff breeze, luggage carts lay upturned, cars abandoned.

Several bodies lay around the door itself. They were not only rotting, but they appeared to have had most of their flesh torn away from them. Claire stood clutching her father's arm as they looked down at them.

Mrs Stanford said, 'Dreadful . . . dreadful . . .'

'Claire.'

She turned. She tried extremely hard not to smile when she saw Jimmy. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

'I'm sorry,' said Jimmy.

Claire shrugged. She looked at the ground.