Story 1-Dimensional Segway
The Titanic chugged along through the sea, ready to disembark her passengers at Gibraltar. Chief Officer William Murdoch stood at the bridge, hands behind his back, shooting a glance over at the quartermaster in the wheelhouse behind him. He was waiting for a young woman who had been scheduled to arrive on the ship and escort her to her own quarters.
"Any luck, Will?" a young man asked his superior officer. Deep brown eyes locked onto his for a moment as the younger officer pulled off his gloves and stuffed them into his pocket.
"No, she hasn't turned up yet." Murdoch sighed, watching the bow plow a furrow into the ocean as she went on.
"We just keep on. About your work, Mr. Lowe."
"Yes sir." Lowe had rounds to make.
He exhaled the salty air, eyes narrowing in the sunlight. When he'd opened up his eyes on board the ship, he'd been greeted by the former chief officer, Henry Wilde, who told him that he was the chief officer now and he had duties to attend to. Murdoch had asked Wilde what was going on and Wilde had told him that there was a woman about to come aboard within the next few days and she would enlighten them all as to what was happening.
With that cryptic comment, Murdoch was unwilling to let his duties go wanting. He'd taken control the best he could and the ship began to run efficiently, if the engines humming belowdecks were any indications. He shifted his weight, feeling the slight vibrations a reciprocating engine would always have. Placing a hand on the sun-warmed railing on the left bridge wing, he heard the seagulls cawing and fighting with each other as they neared port.
A few minutes later, he heard a muted swearing coming from the boat deck, turned, and saw a young woman standing at the taffrail. She was dressed more oddly than anyone he had seen before, white shoes on her feet, a dark material that was blue encircled her waist to mid-hip, and a white loose top which flapped in the breeze. The woman had medium length curly auburn hair, and she was wearing a pair of dark colored lenses set in what looked like wire frames. She had an hourglass figure, thin but not too thin, and Murdoch was astonished to see her midriff was bare.
"Are you lost, madame?" she turned, settling her dark glasses glance at him.
"Possibly," her voice was girlish and she started to walk towards him. "where am I exactly, sir?"
"You're on the Titanic, miss?"
"Oh, um Lara Sheridan."
"Charmed. Chief Officer William Murdoch." he kissed her hand gallantly and she smiled.
"So tell me, Mr. Murdoch, what am I doing here? The last thing I remember is the Titanic centennial."
"Centennial?"
"She's been on the ocean floor for 100 years." Lara clarified. "I thought you'd know that."
"Well, Miss, this isn't exactly the hereafter. I came here 2 days ago much like you did. I was told you could shed some light on the subject." he leaned against the railing of the bridge wing.
"Well, I'll be. You know, I think the astrophysicist crowds were right on when they approached the subject of alternate realities."
"The what?"
"This is an alternate reality, Mr. Murdoch. I'm very interested in the subject and all things supernatural and paranormal as well. Essentially it is a wormhole in space-"
"Wormhole?" he asked, bewildered.
"Like I said," she shot him a sharp look, telling him not to cut her off again. "this reality skewed off from where the Titanic was actually above the ocean floor. I'd say about the time you guys were preparing for its ill-fated voyage, a wormhole in space opened up and you were all taken into this reality. You wouldn't have noticed it."
"If it branched into this reality, why do we have the memories of it sinking?"
Lara furrowed her brow. "Because the true reality of it sinking did happen, and you have the memories from your true self. I don't know how it works exactly, but we're here, and it's not the hereafter, as you call it."
"So can we tell the future while we're here?"
"No." Lara said decisively. "Nobody can tell the future, Mr. Murdoch. I would guess I am here because I can tell you what will happen if we enter into another wormhole, you know history."
"I see," Murdoch said, but he didn't really see it at all. Wormholes?! A lady from the future harping on about astrophysics? So she was supposed to be like a leader to them, helping them out in any specific period in history then? It all made no sense to Murdoch and a headache began to throb behind his temples. He shut his eyes for a moment and wished that the sun wasn't so bright.
"Well, I'm a surgeon and I hope you'd have need for me on your ship." Lara was saying. "I need to determine what year and what day it is."
"As you please." Murdoch showed her the room that had been prepared for her and went back to the bridge, wondering what the hell they had gotten themselves into.
"Nice. Spartan, but nice." Lara sat down on her bed and picked through the suitcase she spied in the corner. A surgeon's uniform and what looked like a whittled down stick with a fancy carved handle. "A wand! Now I feel like Harry Potter!" she giggled and with one flick, the wardrobe filled itself up with all kinds of clothes that she loved to wear. She put the wand in the bedside nightstand, then took her sunglasses off of her face. "If Dr. Ballard could see me now." she muttered with a grin, imagining the look on the ocean explorer's face at that second. He had been her hero for as long as she could remember and Lara always respected and liked him very much.
Now, dimensional or reality crossing seemed to be the name of the game. She flipped through the monthly calendar hung on the back of the door and discovered it was May 1st, 1915. "Lusitania's going down in a few days." she muttered.
The door to her closet started to glow as Lara crossed in front of it, picking up a red blazer that had fallen off her chair back. "What?" she sat the words Harry Potter emblazoned on it in glowing purple script. Opening up the door, she saw a portal in front of her, and the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe flashed through her mind briefly as she put a hand out...
(Harry Potter stories)
"Waaaughhh!" Lara felt herself winged out of the portal entrance and she flopped onto the floor. "Very inelegant." she giggled at herself as the door opened and an officer looked down at her.
"Are you all right, Miss Sheridan?"
Picking herself up, she replied, "I'm fine, just a little klutzy, that's all."
"Right. I'm Second Officer Harold Lowe. Supper is ready and they sent me to come and get you."
"Nice to meet you, sir." she pulled on her sunglasses as the 6 p.m. sun was still in the sky. "Who is the captain here?"
"Arthur Rostron."
"Good, I hope I get to meet him."
Lowe shot her a bemused smile. "I should hope so, Miss Sheridan. He will be at supper."
"Oh, clumsy me!" she rolled her eyes with a smile. "I'm a little slow today."
"That's all right. Everyone is on their first day." he gently teased her, grinning.
"I should warn you, I'm not like other ladies." Lowe opened the door for her and they entered the dining room where everyone was already assembled. The ship was now in port so everyone could take a break from their duties for that night.
"Clearly." Lara had to remind herself that her attire and mannerisms were not the normal thing back then. She sat down and had to stifle the urge to fart almost immediately. Trying not to laugh, she was introduced around and the others were introduced to her.
"Chief Officer Murdoch, First Officer Lightoller, Second Officer Lowe, Third Officer Boxhall, and Fourth Officer Moody." Captain Rostron went around the table and announced what Lara had already told Murdoch about alternate realities. Needless to say, the others did not warm up to her idea at all, but a few of them wanted to.
It would take time for them but Lara knew what would happen in the years to come, so she supposed that was what she was there for. In alternate realities, nothing had to make any sense, it was just there. Some sidelong glances were passed in her direction, but she didn't acknowledge them at all. All of the officers were very no nonsense and Lara knew they were from a time when if nothing could be proved, it didn't exist. She'd have a hard time opening up their spiritual eyes to the possibilities like ghosts, but she wasn't going to go crazy to try to get them into it. She could persuade but she couldn't make them see what they didn't want to.
The supper was stiff and formal and Lara wanted to leave it quite badly. A buildup of pressure formed in her rear and she had to wait until the captain dismissed his officers and deemed supper was over. When Rostron did so, she got up and left demurely, not wanting to cause a scene. When she was back in her room, she ripped a loud fart and started giggling at the sound of it.
"This will be very interesting, I think." it was 9, too early for her to go to bed, but she didn't want to walk along the rails and get noticed by any of the officers. They'd bombard her with stupid questions or lambast her for believing in such fancies. Using the wand, she conjured up a pile of books and picked up the top one.
"I mean really, Will! What is she on about?" Lightoller ranted in the bridge. Murdoch stood quietly and gave his longtime friend no encouragement. Lowe had a fiery temper but even Lightoller's anger was no match for a Welshman's, Murdoch thought. Mind you, he did come close on some occasions.
"Just take it with a grain of salt, Charles, like the rest of us!" Murdoch barked, in officer mode now. "In the meantime, you are not to be judgmental of Miss Sheridan in any way!"
"Have you seen the way she dresses, Will! Improper!" now Lightoller was looking for any excuse to yell at Lara. "That girl is an embarrassment to society!"
"Are you done yet?" Murdoch wearily asked. "We have jobs to do and this mission to pull off! She'll be an asset!"
The mission, with the German government getting too high in their stations, was to pull up on the coast and pretend to be taking on passengers for a Mediterranean cruise, but they were really taking off some stranded British armed forces that had been there for a week. The German government was busily making arms and all sorts of weapons, of which the rest of the world was very uneasy about. Two of the British passengers they were to get were spies and Rostron would get their information, passing onto the admirality in code.
"The fighting's already started on their home turf," Lightoller calmed down a bit. "some of our boys are injured, Will."
"That's partially why Lara is here. She will make a competent surgeon with Dr. Simpson."
Lightoller shook his head as he looked out over the bow. "We are at war, Will." his blue eyes darted around the horizon as the darkness crept over the ship. "I don't like it, not at all."
"Not I." both were of the mind that wars were useless and just ended hundreds of lives.
At the same time, Lara finally fell asleep, dreaming of the past.
When she woke up the next morning, she opened up the porthole curtains to be greeted with rain. The ship had disembarked from Gibraltar and was now on the way to someplace else. Lara pulled on jeans, sneakers, and her officer's jacket, going over to the surgery to find her way around.
"Dr. Sheridan! I'm Dr. John Simpson," they shook hands. "I think you'll find everything to your liking here." Lara gaped. Instead of the old decrepit OR she expected to see, everything was up to date in her eyes. There was an endoscopy suite, an x-ray room, a patient ward, and a big operating room so they could work together. An alcove revealed hundreds of types of medicines, oral and IV, and a closet across the hall had been filled with equipment they would need, 2 autoclaves, a handful of Dynamap vital sign monitors, walkers, IV poles, etc.
"Wow."
"I know!" Simpson giggled. "I've been studying on how to use these things for the past few days."
"I can show you." there was an ultrasound in the corner of the endoscopy room so Lara demonstrated how to use it.
Later that day, Lara was coming back from a quiet lunch in the derelict looking Verandah Cafe when she overheard two of the officers talking to themselves just outside the officer's quarters.
"...don't like it, Harold. She's too much a distraction here."
"...I know, Charles, but still you should give her a chance."
"We would have been better off if she'd never come, filling our heads with this reality nonsense." Lara's mouth hung open. So Lightoller didn't like her, eh? He was always the one that Lara had admired when she read his book and the biography about him. It was because of his unusual name at first, but then she'd read more into his life and she'd really come to regard him with a bit of affection over the years.
Lowe sighed. "Lord knows I wish it too, Charles, but we can't turn back the clock now. We're stuck with her and that's final."
"That Dr. Sheridan is a real distraction, she'll keep us from our duties. Bet you she doesn't even know how to do hers properly..." they walked away and Lara went into her room, forcing back tears. She pushed away her red hair from her face and looked at herself in the mirror.
"Think I'm a distraction, eh? I'll show them!" she snarled, psyching herself up for the job at hand. Before she could get very far, there was a knock at her door.
"Yes?"
Boxhall peeked in. "Captain Rostron sends his compliments and he wishes to see you."
Lara put on her uniform jacket with a rough laugh. "Oh, he thinks I'm a distraction too now, eh? Thinks I'll be more of a dumbwitted twat instead of working on my duties? Tell the captain I need to do inventory in the hold and it absolutely cannot wait!"
"We will be taking on the passengers tomorrow evening, just so you know, Dr. Sheridan." Boxhall meekly told her and left. Lara grabbed a notebook and pen, a wad of tissues, then stuffed them into her coat pockets. Making sure she looked suitable enough to be outside, she slipped out of her room and found the crew stairs down into the forward cargo hold. Instead of doing an inventory like she said, Lara burrowed down amongst the crates and boxes, disguising herself nicely. She had thought to tuck the short little wand in her jeans pocket and she would be all set to freely mope and sulk as long as she had it.
Tears came to her eyes and she felt safe enough to let them flow now.
Rostron heard a knock at his door. "Enter, Dr. Sheridan." he said, not standing up from his desk.
Boxhall stepped in, a sheepish look on his face. "Dr. Sheridan sends her regards, sir, and she needs to do inventory on the surgical supplies down in the hold before the passengers start coming on."
Rostron sealed his missive to his wife and put a stamp on it. Standing up, he looked at the young navigator. "It was done last week. Well, she wasn't here so I suppose it is natural for her to do it again. How long do you think it will take her, Mr. Boxhall?"
"It could be all night."
"If she isn't done by noon tomorrow, we'll go help her out." Rostron said, assuming that Lara would take a break in a few hours and go to bed.
"Yes sir."
"By the wall, have you heard Lightoller spewing out his dislike for the new doctor?"
"Sir?" the carefully schooled expression of bewilderment on his face didn't deceive Rostron one bit.
"I have heard some very ugly things our Mr. Lightoller has been saying about the surgeon behind her back," he clarified. "now I'm no school headmaster, but if Dr. Sheridan catches wind of what he's saying, it will hurt her and I will not have that aboard my ship, sir. The same goes for all of you."
"Understood, sir. Would you like me to send up Mr. Lightoller for you?"
"And Mr. Lowe as well."
"Yes sir. Good day, sir."
"Good day, Mr. Boxhall." Rostron liked Boxhall very much, he was quiet and did not drink at all. The meek officer left the captain's room and went out onto the bridge while Rostron sat on his couch and stroked Abdul, his deaf white haired cat.
The short haired cat was only 10 years old, but he played like he was much younger. Rostron often talked to the cat though it couldn't hear or answer him. Abdul stretched and purred lazily under his master's careful scratching of his ears. "What am I to do, Abdul? I can't have Charles making everything negative for Dr. Sheridan on board this ship. I think she's a nice young woman and must be good at what she does."
Lightoller and Lowe were admitted into the captain's presence and Rostron did not waste any time. "I hear you two bashing our new doctor on board this ship and I tell you, you will curb your tongues!" he seldom got angry but when he did, everyone listened and behaved much better. "Particularly you, Mr. Lightoller! I would think your seniority on this ship would have given you some wisdom, but you go around saying hurtful things of Dr. Sheridan like you were a teenager again! I expected better of you! "
Lightoller composed himself briefly. "Yes sir. It will not happen again."
"See to it that it doesn't or you'll receive a written citation in your records," Rostron growled menacingly. "same goes for you, Mr. Lowe."
"Yes sir." Lowe watched the captain, his brown eyes big with shock and fear.
"I assure you, if this had taken place 100 years ago, I would have flogged you both! You make this entire ship and the White Star Line look bad when you open up your mouth without thinking of what you say! Get out of my sight!" he dismissed them by turning his back on them both and they left. Rostron sank down upon his couch again and stroked Abdul, who looked at his master with a wide eyed expression on his face.
Rostron cast a look around his quarters. The walls were painted white but had stenciled blue flowers just under the ceiling, dark walnut varnished furniture consisting of 2 end tables and the writing desk along with the blue couch were apparent. Abdul gave a kitty yawn and Rostron smiled, turning his head to look out the porthole as the steam ship made its way to the German port. They would berth there tomorrow and the next night, the passengers would be brought aboard.
He thought of Dr. Sheridan with a little smile on his face. There was something about her that he liked, though he couldn't say what. She was an open minded individual, she dressed weirdly, and she had an accent of someone from the American northeast. Rostron liked the Americans very much and he knew all the crew did. They seemed to be able to say what was on their mind and not mind their often stuck up British counterparts. Lara did not have any difficulty speaking her mind and she had a lively voice that was a pleasure for him to hear.
Lara woke up suddenly in the cargo hold, wincing where her shin had hit the sharp point of a wooden crate. Rubbing it, she heard the cargo hold's door squeak open and two sets of footsteps entered.
"She said she was doing inventory." Moody.
"It'd take all bloody night down here." Boxhall. "I wonder if she was doing something else and giving me an excuse."
She watched the flashlight beams work their way around the room, going backwards to make herself smaller and so that she wouldn't cast a reflection. She was very sure now that all the officers hated her and she did not want to be found. When she ship docked, she could get out at Southampton and make a new life for herself somewhere else.
"No trace of her," Moody said after a moment. "should we go upstairs and check on her in her room?"
"Nah, I bet she's there already. It's bloody cold down here, let's go." the door squeaked closed and she heard the footsteps going away. Lara wiped her eyes and looked around the hold, trying to find something more comfortable on which to spend the night, but ended up staying put.
Early in the morning, Rostron had gotten a dossier file on Lara. He summoned up the officers in his quarters and read the pertinent parts aloud.
"She has an extensive background in medical surgery, theraputic endoscopy whatever that is, and is notoriously hard to anger. She is laid back, imaginative and creative and she loves the sea. Nevertheless she has had a hard life including verbal, emotional, and physical abuse at the hands of many. Her emotions can be very fragile and she needs time to heal from all of this." Murdoch and the others looked at him impassively until Rostron shuffled through the file and brought up a pink slip. "What I haven't told you all is that she has made many enemies over the years. One of her enemies is on the roster for the people we are picking up tonight at the pier. I realize this is a lot to handle, but I need her under 24 hour watch. He has sworn to murder her and I need one man to guard her at night, another during the day."
The officers murmured to each other in surprise. "Sir, might we know the details?" Moody asked.
"Well, even I don't really know the specifics, Mr. Moody," Rostron scanned through the pink slip. "it appears that they had been friends once upon a time, then he just turned on her for no reason whatsoever. You would have to get the whole story from her. It seems she made him mad enough so that he swore to take her life. You can see why I will not take this lightly."
"Of course, sir," Lightoller said politely. Inwardly, he was groaning. Why on earth should she be on the ship? Wasn't there drama enough?
"I need a volunteer for the daytime watch. Mr. Boxhall?"
"What about when she's needed in surgery? My regular duties?"
"You will be exempt from them. In surgery, Dr. Simpson will look after her. I have just discussed this with him." Abdul jumped up on the desk and Rostron shooed him away.
"I would be happy to do the day shift, sir," Boxhall said softly. "I quite like her."
"Good. Mr. Lightoller, you are taking the night shift." Rostron penciled him in without a comment, shooting him a look to keep him quiet. "That will be all, gentlemen." they got up and left the room.
Rostron stroked his cat and looked outside for a long moment. "She'll be all right." he told himself, trying to believe it.
Lara woke up again with a need to answer nature's call. She took out the small wand and tapped her belly with it, the need vanished. Grinning for a moment, she put it away and stood up, tripping over a few cargo crates. Straightening up her clothes, she stood in the center of the room and looked around. For some reason, she felt a moment of pride being on such a ship and being involved in such daring adventures. Going over to the door, she checked her cell phone, clicking off the screensaver and looking at the time. Lara had calibrated it for ship time and had downloaded an app for international times, meaning all she had to do was punch in where she was and the clock automatically synced itself to local time. It was odd that her cell phone still worked and never seemed to need a recharge. If it was a perk, she'd take it.
It was noontime and she was quite hungry. Changing into her raingear, as it had become quite stormy outside, she headed for the solitude of the Verandah Cafe where she had a quiet lunch.
Lara had planned to read on deck that afternoon, but the storm was gathering force and she did not think it was a wise idea. Instead, she walked in the ship many times, discovering the pool and transfiguring her outfit into a two piece swimsut and jumping in. She had not been swimming for a long time and thought she would be rusty on it, but she wasn't. Swimming was like riding a bike or driving a car to her-once you learned, you would never forget.
Relaxing most of the afternoon in the pool, she finally hauled herself out at 4:30 and dried herself off with a towel she'd conjured up. Changing her clothes to green khaki pants, her sneakers, and a pink t-shirt with a black hoodie, she went back up on decks with an umbrella to fend off the rain. Walking slowly so she wouldn't bump into any of the officers, she nearly mowed down Captain Rostron who was heading to the bridge.
"Oh, I do apologize, sir!" she exclaimed. "Here, I will share my umbrella as penance."
Rostron laughed, accepting her offer. "The passenger boarding starts tonight with our boys."
"So I heard somewhere," they stepped in time together as Rostron summoned up his courage to tell her about her enemy. "how many do you think will need surgical assistance, sir?"
"I got a telegram that said about 20 need medical care," he cleared his throat. "Dr. Sheridan, I must tell you something."
"I hope it isn't too bad."
"No, not to me. I received a manifest will all the names of the passengers to come aboard tonight. One of them was Blaine Wilson."
Lara did momentarily freeze, then she resumed walking. "Oh, I see."
"I don't know the specifics of your past together but he has sworn to kill you when he gets aboard."
"Well, I'll have to be on my guard."
"Might I ask about your past?"
"To be honest, sir, I don't really remember much of it. Where I come from, yes there was a Blaine Wilson and we hated each other from first sight. I guess it was mutual emnity from day 1. It is a long story."
Captain Rostron was mystified. Sure she wasn't lying, but nonetheless even more curious than before. He said no more as they walked into the enclosed promenade deck, shaking off the rain from Lara's umbrella. "Would you have supper with me tonight?"
She looked surprised by the invitation, shaking out her wavy hair. "I would love to, sir."
"Wonderful!" he ushered her into his sitting room and rang for a steward. Lara was enamored with Abdul and looked around the large airy room. When the steward brought in 2 covered plates, they ate until their hunger was satiated and Lara pulled Abdul onto her lap. Rostron sat next to her as she leaned back and stroked the cat as he purred loudly. Rostron smiled, knowing that Abdul was a huge nuisance to his officers and his guests, but for some reason, the cat seemed attracted to Lara. He would normally hiss and swipe at anyone other than his master, but then with Lara around, Abdul ignored him in favor of the young surgeon.
"I have found that 2 of my officers have been less than generous to you," Rostron started. "Mr. Lightoller and Mr. Lowe have been making unkind remarks about you since you came on board."
"I did hear some of the unkind things they have been saying," Lara admitted. "I have followed Mr. Lightoller and Lowe's careers and I think highly of them, even now. Though as people, I'm afraid my respect for them has gone."
"Understandable," Rostron stroked Abdul as well. "Charles tends to fly off the handle sometimes and he doesn't think much of you because you parade the alternate dimension or reality theory."
"I didn't expect that to make me popular," Lara snorted. "I did think that he would treat me better as a lady and not badmouth me behind my back."
"I warned him of his conduct and Mr. Lowe, telling them any more negativity about you would earn them a citation on their records. They are to treat you like any other officer and you are one aboard this ship, a medical officer along with Dr. Simpson."
She stroked the cat for a long moment, feeling quite content. The captain was warm and friendly to her and she felt that she could adopt in him his confidence about what really happened between her and Blaine Wilson. "Might I ask your confidence, sir?"
He recognized her uneasiness and warmly reassured her that she could tell him anything and he would not betray her confidence to anyone. With Abdul on her lap, Lara drew strength from the captain and the cat to give voice to what had indeed happened between her and Blaine.
"It was 10 years ago and in my time that would have made it about 2002. I was diagnosed with a serious chronic sickness and spent more time in the hospital than I did going to school that year. Blaine was jealous of all the attention that I got, making fun of me, calling me a hypochondriac, all that nastiness. When I graduated the next year, he kept picking on me, as we lived near each other in the same neighborhood. My parents died, he mocked me and was generally negative during that time. He seemed to have cleaned up his act over the next 2 years, for when I saw him, he would be sweet and gentle towards me and I agreed to live with him for a spell when my house was being renovated. Blaine took me out to supper where he had way too many drinks, we went home, and he abused me cruelly. I was left with a fractured larynx so I couldn't talk for awhile, broken left arm, amongst some internal injuries."
"Oh sweet Lord," Rostron was almost speechless. Even the cat seemed agitated and nudged Lara's hand, asking for more caresses. She resumed her ear rubbing and the purring started up again. "do I dare ask what next?"
"After that he left me alone for a year, then he comes back on my doorstop all slobbering drunk and he asks me to marry him! I laughed at him and called the police on him as he was threatening to hurt me again. Six months later he was released, and I became deathly sick at the same time. One does not need to be a detective to figure out he was behind my illness."
"What was it?"
"The stupid cops finally got up off their fat rears and listened to the doctor as he told him someone had been deliberately poisoning me with arsenic!"
Rostron's jaw dropped open. Imagine hurting that sweet lady! he thought to himself. "Now he's in this reality with our soldiers. Any theories?"
"Because God wanted him to die in battle?" Lara shrugged. "He's sworn to kill me because I humiliated him and he seems to think that if he can't have me, nobody can."
"Well, he'd have to go through me, my dear," Rostron stood up. "any of my subordinates will tell you that I am not afraid to throw a few punches if there is need for it."
Lara did not speak, but she gave him a look of gratitude. The captain gave her a tight hug of reassurance as Abdul stretched out and yawned lazily as the clock chimed 8 p.m.
"Time for the passengers to board. Oh, and I've assigned a guard to you at all hours. During the day, you will have Mr. Boxhall with you. During the night, it is Mr. Lightoller."
Lara groaned. "What about Mr. Murdoch? I quite like him."
"He likes you too. I hope that you and Mr. Lightoller will be able to have a working relationship. It's mostly he that needs an attitude adjustment and not you." he showed her out. "In the meantime, at your surgery station, if you please." Rostron gave her an encouraging smile as Murdoch and Lightoller took their places at the 2 gangway entrances, passenger list in hand, ready to check off names.
Lara pulled on scrubs along with Dr. Simpson, and the two started to talk medicine while they were waiting. Dr. Simpson sat at his desk while Lara sat on one of the visitor's chairs, her feet up on his desk.
"All right, how about upper right side pain, nausea, vomiting, might resolve in a few hours?" he quizzed.
"Gallbladder trying to pass a stone or cholelithiasis."
"Spitting up blood?"
"Hemoptysis."
"Heart speeding up or slowing down?"
"Tachy or bradycardia."
"Mental disease?"
"Psychosis."
"Fugue?"
"Flight."
"Diabetes?"
"Insulin deficiency."
"Very good." they were about to start another round when a steward came in, supporting a young man who was sweating and breathing heavily.
"Gunshot wound as he was leaving. Seems he didn't make any friends." Simpson assessed as he helped the guy lie down on a gurney. "Looks like one for the x-ray." he took his patient off and Lara took the next one, a person with similar wounds.
Soon, they were working like crazy. Simpson and Lara dug out gunshot wounds, cleaned, cauterized, stitched up, then put them into recovery for an hour. When they woke up from the drugs, the stewards took them to preassigned rooms.
"I don't know if I can save this one's arm..." Simpson cauterized the bleeding and looked at the wound closely.
"You can do it! Can you do an AVG?"
"I think so. This cadaver over here will have a good one." Simpson opened up the cadaver and harvested a vein so that blood flow could be restored the patient's arm. Lara sutured her patient's skin with interrupted sutures and stood by to help Simpson as he attached the vein to the two cut ends of the previous one. The skin warmed in a minute and turned pink and healthy. Lara grinned, complimented her colleague, then helped him suture closed the skin layers.
By the time they were done, it was midnight and both were exhausted. The stewardesses were looking after the patients and Simpson was on call that night. Lara entered the antechamber where the sinks were and was startled to see Lightoller there. He looked at her, starting at the sight of her operative gown splattered with blood. She peeled off her gloves, threw them out, then threw out her mask and cap as well. Stripping off the gown, she threw it in the laundry and took off the scrubs as well.
"You look exhausted." Lightoller observed, prompting her to scowl as she chucked the scrubs into the laundry.
"Let's get one thing straight," he stood up and Lara observed that he was only about 2 inches taller than her. "I've heard of you and Lowe badmouthing me behind my back. I don't like you and I know you don't like me. Thankfully you're with me while I'm asleep, so be civil."
Lightoller was unused to women being so forward and controlling towards him. He closed his mouth and walked her to her room, telling her that all the passengers were embarked safely and they were pulling out from the pier as he was speaking. Everything had gone smoothly on their end of things. Captain Rostron was pleased as well, wanting Simpson to report to him first thing in the morning about the wounded.
"Everything did go well on your end, good," she felt her eyelids starting to close. "are you insinuating things didn't go well on the medical end?"
"No, I mean no offense."
"Honestly you can be so condescending without even knowing it, Charles." Lara opened up her room and went into the bathroom to change. Lightoller pulled up a seat near to her bed and turned on the bedside table lamp. He pulled out a book he had stashed in his pocket, pulled off his uniform jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. Lara came out wearing canary yellow pajamas and got into bed. With a muttered goodnight, she went right to sleep.
When he had reached the end of his book, it was near 3 in the morning. Lightoller shut it with a sigh and kept his gun with handcuffs handy in his uniform coat pocket. The first officer studied the young surgeon intently, admiring the way she slept. She had fallen asleep facing him, her right arm bent at the elbow and her arm was positioned up so that the back of her hand was visible. Lara's nails were trim and ladylike, shaped into ovals. She had about a quarter inch of nail growth to elongate her nails and give her a more ladylike appearance. Her left arm was right below her right one, crossing over to her right side and dangling off of her hip. She looked very serene to Lightoller's eyes and he watched her steady respirations for a long moment.
When morning came, Lightoller woke up at 7 a.m. Boxhall would come at 8 and he wanted to straighten himself up a little before the junior officer came in. His back was stiff from sleeping in a chair, his neck hurt, but he was content. Lightoller cleaned up the best he could and put the chair back by the desk where it belonged. Lara had not moved an inch all night, something that had rather impressed Lightoller.
A few minutes later, Lara made a sleepy sound and Lightoller looked down at her as she opened up her eyes and stretched.
"Good morning, Lara."
"Good morning, Charles." Lara sat up and started brushing her hair. "Hopefully I don't look a fright."
"No, you don't." he said truthfully. "Joseph will meet you in the officer's mess for breakfast."
"All right, let me get ready." she disappeared into the bathroom where she dressed in a light green maxi dress with sandals. Pulling her hair back into a braid, she reemerged and followed Lightoller onto the deck.
"I trust you slept well all night," he said politely as they walked. "you didn't move an inch from what I could see."
"It was rather restful, yes." she agreed. "Of course, I was surprised that I could sleep at all with that enemy of mine so near."
"Pardon me, but how did you and he come to well, this?"
To his surprise, Lara did not get angry with him. "You should know, you and Joseph. Why don't we all breakfast together and I'll tell you?" a good night's sleep had mellowed her out and she did not show any of the previous signs of antipathy towards him that she had last night. The 3 met up and as suggested, they breakfasted together and Lara told them the story.
"So he had spiked my well water at the house with arsenic and I got deathly sick," she watched their reactions. Boxhall was shocked, eyes wide, jaw open. Lightoller wore a similar look of outrage, his brows furrowed in anger. "the cops took him into prison but he was let out after a few months due to overcrowding. I moved away and had nothing to do with him ever again."
"I should think not!" Boxhall sputtered. "That... that.."
"Rostron, mate." Lightoller said in a low voice. Boxhall composed himself and they glanced over at the captain politely, returning his good morning salutation.
Checking in with Simpson, Lara was happy to discover that there were no relapses of any sort and the wounded were very quiet. She and Boxhall enjoyed themselves in the swimming pool and went to the library for some quiet time. It was a bit chilly that day so they stoked up a fire in the fireplace and went back to their books. Boxhall was dozing by the time 3 p.m. rolled around and one of the wireless operators found Lara sitting by the fire in a chaise lounge, reading quietly while her guard slept.
"Dr. Sheridan? The captain sent me to get you."
"What do you want?" she was never tolerant of others interrupting her reading time.
"The Lusitania went down today off the old Head of Kinsale, the Irish coast. The captain wants all the officers in his cabin for a quick prayer service."
"We'll be right there. Thank you, Bride." Harold Bride nodded and left. Lara roused Boxhall and they went to the captain's cabin, greeting all the other officers as they entered. Rostron greeted them all and informed him what they were going to do. A prayer circle was then assembled and Rostron asked them all to join hands. Lara found herself between Murdoch and Lowe and she smiled at Murdoch as they joined hands. Lowe gave her a nod, a hint of a smile on his features as he took her other slender hand in his. Murdoch gave her a warm squeeze and Lowe rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb as they all bowed their heads for the prayer the captain gave. A moment of silence followed, and that was it.
Everyone looked at Lara who pretended innocence for a moment. "This is goading the US into the war. Of course we're at war now, gentlemen. We have been for a year or so now, there's no other way to put it."
The officers filed out, Boxhall and Lara going to the surgery to check up on the patients. Simpson was off getting some rest, so Lara sat at the office and was on call in case something happened to one of the passengers. It was a credit to their work that none of the wounded developed any kind of infection and were all mending very well.
Supper came and went, then Boxhall left to do his rounds and turn in for the night. Lightoller appeared with far less animosity on his face and he even addressed her in endearing terms now, his opinion of her had changed since the previous day.
"How long until we get the boys off the ship?" on the boat deck, a sharp wind snapped at Lara's black hoodie, making the unused hood billow out behind her like a hot air balloon.
"About another 2 days. We've been asked to dock in Liverpool not Southampton as that's where the army base is," he answered her.
Lara made a noise of pain and looked at her left arm, prompting Lightoller to ask her if everything was all right. "Just my left arm. It bothers me when there's bad weather coming."
"BITCH!" came a wild cry. A man dressed in corduroys and raggedy work shirt came up from the grand staircase and made a dive for Lara. Lightoller tried to get a hold of Wilson but he was too fast for him. Lara fought back for all she was worth, but she was soon overcome by the sheer strength Wilson possessed. He dealt Lightoller such a blow that he crashed against the gym wall and saw stars. Through a haze of pain, he saw Wilson grab Lara by the throat and hike her up against the wall. She struggled, but the man's hands were crushing her airway. Lightoller could not understand or even really hear what Wilson was saying, but he knew it wasn't good at any rate. He staggered up and amid the thinning haze of pain he was in, he brought up both his arms and crashed his knuckles down on the back of Wilson's head, knocking him out completely.
Lara fell like a discarded rag doll, flopping limply to the deck. The first officer rushed over to her, saying her name, but she did not rouse. He quickly checked her pulse which was faint, and with shock and horror, discovered that she wasn't breathing. Picking her up off the deck, he dashed over to the surgery to get Dr. Simpson to take a look at her.
Simpson was reading a medical journal and was taken by surprise when Lightoller came in, bearing the limp body of their junior surgeon. He jumped up in surprise and concern when Lightoller started babbling on about someone attacking her.
"She can't breathe!" Simpson mounted her like he would a horse and began to resuscitate her, thumping down on her chest and breathing into her mouth. "It's a bloody miracle her heart didn't stop!" he slammed his fists down onto her ribcage with such force he felt one crack. Underneath his hands, Lara jerked once and gasped, drawing a shaky breath into her oxygen-deprived lungs. Simpson smiled as he climbed off of her as she hacked and coughed. Lightoller watched her for a moment and turned to the doctor.
"Will she need to be here overnight, sir?"
"No, she can go right to her own cabin." just then, Rostron and Murdoch barged into the room.
"I heard that Wilson attacked the Master-at-arms and let himself out," Rostron was tight-lipped. "then Mr. Murdoch finds him collapsed on the deck. I assume he attacked Lara and Mr. Lightoller dealt him that blow?"
"Yes sir." Lightoller admitted in a hoarse whisper.
"You got here just in time, sir. I had to restart her breathing-she wasn't when Mr. Lightoller here brought her in." Simpson noticed Lightoller looked a little punch-drunk. "Mr. Lightoller, were you attacked as well?"
"A knock to the head." Simpson immediately began to examine him carefully. Murdoch and Rostron looked at Lara, whose breathing had settled down into normal rhythm by then and she had opened up her eyes.
"Wilson has been put in irons and he won't be going anywhere now, I hope," Murdoch told her. "I'm glad you seem to be all right."
"Who cracked one of my ribs?" she hoarsely asked. "Man, this hurts!"
"I'm afraid that was me, Lara," Simpson checked Lightoller's eyes. "I had to pound on you pretty hard to restart your lungs."
"Where's Charles?" Lara could not sit up on account of the pain in her chest. "Is he all right?"
"He has a slight concussion and he'll be in some pain. I'll help him to his room along with Mr. Murdoch here, give him an injection of morphine so he'll sleep tonight." Simpson decided, filling a syringe with the appropriate dose.
"As for you, Dr. Sheridan, I'm taking you into my cabin where I know you will be safe for the night," Rostron assisted her up gently. "perhaps the good doctor will give you some pain medicine too when he's done with Mr. Lightoller here."
"I will, sir. Come on, Mr. Lightoller, you don't want to sleep here." Murdoch and Simpson got the wounded first officer to his bunk while Rostron and Lara went to his cabin.
Lightoller succumbed easily to the effects of morphine, closing his eyes and falling deeply asleep while Murdoch opened the connecting door between their rooms. He sat down and read for an hour until he was drowsy enough to sleep as well.
In the captain's cabin, Lara had been given the dose of opiate necessary to relieve her discomfort and Simpson had also given her a sedative as well to help her sleep. Rostron sat in his sitting room until she had changed to go to sleep and Simpson had left. His faithful cat jumped on him and begging for an ear rub, got one.
All the while, the captain's mind was far away, dwelling on Wilson and why he was only given short jailtime sentences. He was British not German, so he couldn't be jailed for that... his mind spun with ideas on how to get the loon lifetime jail sentences or even an audience with a firing squad. Maybe Rostron could twist the truth a bit so there would be no parole hearings for the rest of Wilson's sordid life... Rostron wondered halfheartedly if Wilson could swim...
"Perhaps if I telegraphed the admirality's office and let them know what Wilson was up to.. let's go from there." Rostron wrote out a telegram that was accordingly sent.
SHIP'S SURGEON ATTACKED STOP. BADLY BEATEN STOP. REQUEST AUDIENCE WITH FIRING SQUAD STOP. CRIMINAL IS BLAINE WILSON STOP.
Rostron had it sent immediately despite the late hour and he knew that admirality's message service would see that it got to its destination. Perhaps after the Lusitania's demise, people would be hungry for revenge and Wilson might satisfy their hunger to some extent. The fact that Lara would be serving in wartime if it came to that would make people vociferous in Wilson's demise. Smiling slightly to himself, Rostron went to his writing desk and took up a pen. He often wrote for the Daily Telegraph and he would use that to his advantage on this matter.
The fact that he was well liked would play in his favor as well. Rostron searched his mind for the right prose and wording, then scribbled down madly on about 3 sheets of paper. Towards 1 a.m., he posted the missive, hiding a smile on his face.
Lara did not sleep very well that night after the pain medicine wore off. She tried to cope with the dull throbbing and when she couldn't bear it anymore, she tried to get up, but discovered that she needed help. Rostron was asleep on the chaise lounge near his bed and she didn't want to wake him up after he'd been so kind to her.
Once after surgery for an unrelated matter, Lara had trouble getting up as well. Back then, she had propped herself up with pillows and once during her hospital stay when the bed wouldn't tilt forward, she slid herself off the bed horizontally like she was playing limbo with her friends. Lara tried it then, sliding off and shifting her weight to her legs. The impact caused her to groan in pain which woke up the captain. He started in surprise and asked her what she was doing.
"The pain medicine wore off and I can't quite maneuver out of bed yet," she flushed red. Rostron had considerable expertise in keeping his face straight while his subordinates blundered around him and it paid off now. He maneuvered the injured woman back onto the bed while propping her up with several pillows. She reclined back, more comfortable now and even her pain had been reduced.
"Think you can sleep now?"
"I think so, sir. I do thank you, you've been so good to me."
"All in a day's work." he looked pleased with himself and her progress. "We dock soon and I've telegraphed to ask whether Wilson can face the firing squad."
"He doesn't learn so I hope they'll take care of him." Lara said savagely. "I'm not bloodthirsty sir, but when a criminal doesn't learn his lesson, then what can you do with him?"
"I agree." he settled back down on his chaise lounge and the both of them went to sleep.
The next morning, Simpson arrived at Lightoller's cabin to examine him. He was pronounced fit for duty and released from doctor's care. Murdoch was charged with looking after his old friend, a task which he somberly assumed.
At the same time, Lara was looked over by her colleague and was told to stay lying down for another few hours. She protested but the captain and Simpson overrode her on that, pointing out that too much exertion would only make her relapse. She grudgingly submitted and was helped back to her own room by Lowe and Boxhall.
Rostron got a wire from the admirality, saying that the firing squad had been authorized and they would assemble on the stern tomorrow morning to shoot the criminal. Amazed, Rostron briefly wondered if he'd done the right thing, but dismissed that as he knew Wilson would never change. The captain went over Lara's story in his mind again, the beating, the broken arm, the attempted poisoning, the attack last night. It wasn't for him to decide what fate Wilson would meet, but it was Lara's. He put on his hat and went to her room, knocking once.
Moody was there talking to Lara. They both looked up and saw Rostron enter, so Moody bid adieu and went to his own cabin to sleep.
"Lara, this just arrived." he handed her the wire. "Do you wish him to meet his end this way?"
"I do, sir. I have wished for it for years now. He won't change, he won't stop hunting me!" her voice broke and the stresses of the past several days seemed to break free from her mind. "What on earth have I done, sir, to get his undenying hate of me? I've just been me and he wants to kill me!"
The frustration must have been on her mind of late apart from everything else. Rostron could tell that Lara hadn't had a night's sleep without at least one dream of Wilson terrorizing her. What could he say to her to ease her mind from the subject of her enemy?
"You were yourself and some people are envious of you, wishing they could be like you are. Lara, you are assertive, funny, attractive, and you don't take any backtalk. Possibly this Wilson had poor examples of parents when he was growing up." he wanted to hug her but he didn't think her injured rib could take it.
"Makes sense," she admitted, watching him with bright eyes. "seems like one always has to have enemies in this world."
"But more friends than enemies," he reminded her affectionately. "I hope you will consider me a friend even when we're not on a ship together."
Lara smiled as he kissed the back of her hand. "Tomorrow on the stern deck, sir? I want to be the last thing he sees before he gets shot."
"Revenge?" he paused in opening the door.
"No. Vindication." she smiled and settled back, closing her eyes.
The next day they arrived at Liverpool, then the disembarkation began. While the junior officers oversaw the majority of the disembarkation, Murdoch and Lightoller along with Rostron, walked the criminal to the stern deck. Lara, knowing her choice of clothes would be frowned upon in port, had gotten into a dark coral pink dress and brown shawl, her hair pinned back from her face.
"Ah, my little whore," Wilson leered at her in passing. He was dirty, unshaven, and his green eyes only lit up when he had lust or violence on his mind. "fancy a tryst?"
"Step along!" Murdoch barked in his best officer voice, winking at Lara as they passed. She was still in some throbbing pain from her rib, but nodded back to Murdoch as they steered Wilson towards the end of the stern deck. Due to the restricted space, they only had 4 gunmen on board to do the execution. The captain of the marines took over as Murdoch took one of Lara's hands, then Lightoller took the other one to give her a sense of security.
Rostron gave her a look of encouragement as the marines counted down from 5 and shot. Wilson fell, dead.
"Sir? Admiral Gregory wants to speak to you in the wheelhouse." Moody came up and told the captain, shooting Lara a glance. Rostron excused himself and went to the wheelhouse while Murdoch and Lightoller became concerned about Lara. She was shaking visibly, eyes fixed on the corpse that the marines put in a box and took away.
The trio of officers said nothing but led Lara back to the boat deck near the bridge. She was able to get onto a deck chair gingerly without pain now and she was grateful when Murdoch and Moody went about their business as usual, along with Lightoller. In a state of shock, she counted the seagulls darting about the coast and watched some other White Star Line ships disembark and embark passengers.
"Ah, here she is!" Admiral Gregory, a big burly man with good humor written into his face, walked out of the wheelhouse and sat down next to Lara, followed by Rostron. She looked from Gregory to Rostron and the latter gave her a kind smile, meaning that she could talk to him.
"Dr. Sheridan, I am so sorry for what that criminal has done to you," he began. "I approved the firing squad as soon as the telegram came in from the ship. You see, my daughter was harassed by that same man and eventually he killed her due to massive injuries she sustained when he was drunk. He has caused so much devastation and I swore one day I would avenge my daughter. I am very glad he did not get you."
Lara acknowledged this in a subtle manner. "I am sorry for your loss, sir." he kissed the back of her hand.
"Thank you, doctor." with a salute to Rostron, Gregory left the ship.
"Well, war's coming." Rostron stated.
"What is our next adventure, sir?" Lara asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Rostron laughed.