I do not own Titanic. It belongs to history and James Cameron. I do not own Thomas Andrews or any of the other character, except Diana Ryehart and Josh Byrd.
Enjoy and please give me constructive critcism.
"It takes three million rivets and a lot of sweat to make a fine ship."
Thomas Andrews, Master Shipbuilder
9 April 2012- London
Byrd Laboratories
…Anderson, S. Third-Class Passenger -Lost
Anderson, S. Third-Class Passenger-Lost
Anderson, T. Third-Class Passenger-Lost
Anderson, W. Bedroom Steward-Lost
Andreason, P. Third-Class Passenger- Lost
Andrew, E. Second-Class Passenger- Lost
Andrew, F. Second-Class Passenger- Lost
Andrews, C. Assistant Steward-Saved
Andrews, Miss C. First-Class Passenger-Saved
Andrews, T. First-Class Passenger-Lost…
The lights suddenly came on. Dr. Ryehart blinked and rubbed her eyes, unaccustomed to the light. She left the film projection running, and turned to glare at whoever had interrupted her. But then her glower melted- somewhat -when she saw who was in the doorway.
"You know that if you were anyone else…" she said.
Josh Byrd smiled. "I know," he responded. "And I'm thankful everyday I'm not someone else, Diana."
"You always were lucky. Turn off the light."
When Josh had turned the overhead lamps off, Diana turned back to her work.
…Be Breucq, Maurice E. Assistant Waiter- Lost
del Carlo, Mrs. A. Second-Class Passenger- Saved
del Carlo, S. Second-Class Passenger- Lost
De Messemaeker, W. Third-Class Passenger-Saved
De Messemaeker, A. Third- Class Passenger- Saved
De Mulder, T. Third-Class Passenger- Saved
de Villiers, Mrs. B. First-Class Passenger- Saved
DeWitt Bukater, R. First-Class Passenger- Lost
DeWitt Bukater, Mrs. R. First Class Passenger- Saved
Deacon, P. Second-Class Passenger- Lost
Dean, B. Third-Class Passenger- Lost
Dean, George H. Assistant Steward- Lost…
"I wen…"Josh began
"Shhh!"
"I went to the cafeteria," he repeated in a whisper. "I brought you tea." Josh took a seat next to her and handed her a steaming Styrofoam cup. Diana accepted it, took a sip, and put it down next to her. Her eyes remained locked on the projection. On a notepad in front of her, she scribbled notes, incoherent and unreadable to anyone else.
"You still at it?" Josh asked awkwardly.
"You can see for yourself that I am 'still at it,' so why ask?" Quietly, she added: "It makes them real to me, the enormity."
"Look, don't get me wrong. Staring at a hundred year old passenger list seems like a lot of fun, but I don't see how its gonna help anything."
Diana said nothing and for several minutes neither of them said a word as the list continued.
…Rummer, G. Saloon Steward- Lost
Rummestvet, K. Third-Class Passenger- Lost
Reish, A. Third-Class Passenger- Lost
Russell, R. Saloon Steward- Lost
Ryan, E. Third-Class Passenger- Saved
Ryan, P. Third-Class Passenger- Lost
Ryan, T. Third-Class Passenger- Lost
Ryehart, D. First-Class Passenger- Lost
Ryerson, A. First-Class Passenger- Lost…
"Are you still going to go through with it?" Josh suddenly broke the silence.
Diana sat very still. Then, she shut the projector off, stood up, turned on the light, and faced Josh.
"Of course I am going to go through with it," she said fiercely. "Do you think I've worked this hard- obsessed, given up my life- for five years, not to follow it through?"
Josh had remained seated until that time. He looked at her coolly, unphased by her outburst. He never was. Now he stood up and walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"In all the years that you've known me, have I ever let you down? Have you ever had a reason to doubt me?" her voice was soft and bitter.
"Never," Josh said soothingly. "I just still don't understand why you're doing this. What's the point?"
"The point?" Diana stepped away from him. "I have explained the point before. We've discussed this before!"
"I know, I know. We've been over it. But I don't think you realize the risk-"
"This is ridiculous. Do you realize what we would be accomplishing? We will change the course of history!"
Josh shook his head. "You don't know what you could be doing. What if you screw up time?"
"How would that be so bad? Think about what we would be changing, how many lives we'd save."
"I just don't know…"
"Are you backing out?" Diana turned away. "I won't make you do it if you don't want to."
Josh sighed. "I'd never do that to you. I just want to make sure you know what you're doing."
"I've handled everything." She gripped his hand. "Trust me!"
Josh searched her face, looking for any sign of uncertainty. Then he nodded. "Alright."
Diana smiled. "Good," she said, and strode over to her desk and picked up her notepad and a navy messenger bag. "Let's go then. We've a lot to do."
"Where are we going?" Josh asked.
Diana stopped, her eyebrows raised. "To get ready."
"I still don't get how this is supposed to work." Josh shouted above the storm of voices. He shoved his way down the crowded London sidewalk to catch up with Diana, who was walking at a brisk pace ahead of him.
"Again?" she said, rolling her eyes. "I've already-"
"Yeah, I know, you've explained it to me about a billion times in a billion words. But please, for a moment, try to remember that I didn't graduate when I was three years old from Harvard like you."
Diana laughed. Someone who knew her that didn't happen to be Josh Byrd would have stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes bugged out and their mouth gaping open. They might have written it down in their diary, or marked it on their calendar, or called a local newspaper, such was the rarity of the event. But Josh Byrd was just Josh Byrd and made no reaction.
"Alright," Diana said. "Time moves vertically, not horizontally. Therefore, a person cannot move from place to place, only, theoretically, from time to time."
"Yeah, I remember that part. Do you forget the hours I spent making you coffee while you stayed up all night figuring it out?"
"You did ask me to explain it to you."
"Fair enough. Continue."
"Right. Now, the various dimensions, or levels, of time can be viewed like an apartment building, stacked. Generally, it is impossible to cross levels, because of the static barriers that separate them. But, if a force can be generated with enough power, it will rip an opening in the barrier. And this will result in 'falling'"
"Passing from one time to another," Josh interjected.
"Exactly. Do you understand now?"
"Almost. How are we supposed to get on the ship? I mean, won't it already be full?"
Diana shook her head. "No. Titanic wasn't filled to capacity on her maiden voyage. If she had been, the disaster would have been far worse. But no, I shouldn't think we'll have trouble booking passage. Ah, here we are.
She stopped in front of a small, narrow shop. In its front window was displayed historical and vintage clothing.
"Are you telling me I actually have to wear that get-up?" said Josh, eying a men's top coat ensemble warily. It was no wonder; his own eclectic wardrobe was in complete contrast to what he was looking at.
"Of course not," said Diana, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the shop. "I have something else for you.
Diana stood in front of a full length mirror, inspecting the meticulous detail on the gown she wore. It was of traditional Edwardian fit of deep blue brocade coat dress with gold filigree on the collar and cuffs. The shop keeper, a woman of about fifty and stiff expression came up behind her.
"One of our best pieces," she said with a false smile.
"You are sure it is completely accurate? It wasn't altered in any way?" asked Diana, looking closely at a seam.
"I should saynot!" said the woman disdainfully. "We offer only the best historical garments."
"Hmmm…alright. Yes," said Diana, still squinting at every detail of the gown. "Could you please bring me the hat?"
"Right away, ma'am," responded the woman, turning away with her nose in the air.
"So, ah, how do I look?"
Diana turned to see Josh coming out of the men's dressing room. He was dressed in gray plaid trousers and a vest and felt-lined jacket. On his head was a black bowler hat.
"Well?" he persisted.
Diana circled around Josh, looking him up and down. After a few moments, she adjusted his hat (which turned in the wrong direction), tugged a bit at his coat, and said: "Not bad, not bad. Yes, I think they'll do very well…"
"Ma'am?" The woman was back. "Your hat."
"Oh, thank you," said Diana, accepting the enormous hat and pin the woman handed her. It was about three times the width of her head, and overloaded with blue silk flowers and a large bow. As she pinned it to her chestnut-coloured hair that she had piled atop her head, she heard an odd strangled sound behind her, like a cross breed of a chortle and a gargle. Diana turned.
"Are you laughing at me?" she demanded as Josh's face turned red and her looked like he was about to explode.
"No, no!" he insisted, but at the same time a deep laugh burst from him. "Well, just... a little-"
"And what, pray tell, for?"
"Nothing! Er, maybe…that hat-" he didn't finish because he interrupted himself with another burst of laughter.
"You know," Diana said getting annoyed. "You won't be able to do that in Southampton. In 1912, women wore these hats all the time, and many were more ridiculous than mine-"
Josh coughed, and nodded quickly in the direction of the shopkeeper, who was stared at them open-mouthed.
"I-I mean," Diana said quickly. "The Historical Society meeting will have plenty of people dressed like this, so get used to it." She turned to the woman and smiled sugar-sweetly. "We'll take these, and the other items I mentioned on the telephone."
"Right away," said the woman, still eying them suspiciously.
A few minutes later, after they had changed back into their regular clothes, they met the woman at the front desk to get the other garments.
"What the hell is all this?" cried Josh, looking at the three large trunks of clothes. "Do you think I'm gonna carry them?"
"You didn't expect us to show up with nothing but the clothes on our backs did you? Don't worry, we'll take a cab."
"Is all that yours?"
"No. There are a few things for you."
"Excuse me ma'am," said the woman sourly as they were leaving. "You do understand that these are rentals. They must be returned in the same condition as when they exit that door.
"Don't worry," Diana said seriously, "If all goes well, some of them won't be worn at all." Then she left the shop and hailed a cab.
10 April, 2012
8:30 a.m.
Southampton
Twenty-four hours later, Diana Ryehart and Josh Byrd arrived at the old Southampton pier, after taking the train from London. They were once again in their Edwardian outfits, having dressed on the train, which did prove to garner many amused and confused stares from their fellow passengers. The cab driver helped them unload the trunks and an unmarked case, muttering to him self about the "nutcases" he always seemed to get, and drove off, leaving them on the eerily deserted pier.
"Is this it?" Josh asked, looking around at the empty beach.
"Yes," Diana said softly. "This is it. See there? Those are the original track for the cranes. This is Pier 44."
Josh let out a low whistle. "Damn, I can't recognize it."
Diana nodded, her eyes downcast. Then she looked up, pulled a tattered piece of paper from her messenger bag, and scrutinized it for a moment.
"What's that?" Josh asked.
"Coordinates," she said simply and grabbed one of the luggage carriers holding the case and one of her trunks, and then began to walk at a brisk pace away from him.
"Hey!" he shouted. "What are you doing? Shouldn't we be setting this thing up?"
"Not here," she responded over her shoulder, but kept walking. "One hundred years ago, this place was packed. If we did it here there would be a lot of people to witness us appearing out of nowhere. Now if you are through standing there, get the other trunks and follow me."
After walking about three hundred feet farther, Diana stopped.
"Yes," she said, half to herself, still looking at the paper. "This is about right. Could you give me a hand?"
They pried the lid off the case. Josh looked down at the contents in shock. They consisted of a four unusual looking rods, what looked like a cell phone, and a large black umbrella.
"So this is what you've been spending my father's money on?" he said, only half joking.
"Well, yes. What did you expect? A DeLorean?" she said as she skewered the sand with the rods, setting up a square around them. "Put the trunks around us."
"You know what I mean," Josh said, following her orders. "I just expected a little more. Diana, an umbrella?"
She picked up the umbrella and opened it. It covered them and the trunks. "It's solar powered, so we don't have to bring any outside energy sources. The spike at the top will channel the solar power."
"And the cell phone?"
"That's really only for show. I could have put the activation mechanism anywhere." She picked it up, her thumb poised over the call button. "Alright…this is it."
"Wait!" Josh stopped her. He took a deep breath. "Are you sure you know how this thing works?"
"Yes, of course!" she scornfully, before adding almost inaudibly: "I think."
Before Josh could protest or stop her, Diana pressed the button. A blue, electric translucent wall surrounded them and for a moment they were suspended, frozen in their positions. Then they disappeared.