Titanic
The Panic Begins
Thomas Andrews
Thomas Andrews sighed yet again, before pushing a large blueprint of Titanic's frame out of his way, his eyes roaming the crowded desk for a blueprint of G deck. He rubbed his temple in frustration, before glancing toward the more appealing glass of brandy that resided near the edge of the large desk. He was totally stumped, something that he was not at all familiar with. He was used to success, of course not on his first attempt, but surely before his fifth. He was trying to figure out a way to blow out the wall between the pool and the changing stalls so that passengers ready for a relaxing swim would feel like they were in a true Parisian Piscine instead of a pool, deep inside the belly of a gigantic monster. The problem was that if he did that, it would throw off the design for the rest of the deck.
Instead of feeling like they currently did, like they were slowly wandering from one country to another; from Paris to London, to Istanbul, it would feel like you were stepping between countries in the space of ten seconds…something that he knew passengers would detest. People liked slow and elegant changes, framed with luxury and comfort, not exciting, fast paced changes that left you guessing for what would happen next. eHe
If the wall was blown out, it would feel like walking from Paris to Istanbul in less than a minute. And if that happened, it would make the same feeling reoccur in intervals between almost every room.
He had just taken a drag from his cigar, which had been languidly smoking from the ash tray near his untouched glass of brandy, when he felt it. It wasn't necessarily a startling feeling, but it was one that was off. At first, he thought that it was just the engines, but then he realized that the irregular shaking was continuing, and intensifying instead of lessening. Worriedly, he stood up, reaching for the cup of brandy to settle it. The strong yellow liquid inside was sloshing slowly from side to side, bumping slightly toward the rim every now and again. He realized, that it wasn't just his desk that was shaking, but his whole room, which brought him to the conclusion that whatever was happening was happening as a direct result from something outside of Titanic. He wondered vaguely if the shaking intensified at all the lower you got toward the double plated bottom and what the snobby first classmen would be asking in the next couple of minutes if they ever woke up from their drunken stupor. And then it stopped, and all was quiet again. Except…well….it seemed that Titanic was slowing down...perhaps even stopping? But… why….that wasn't right. They were still about a day from New York harbor, so what was happening?
He stood there for a long time, before half convincing himself that they had lost a propeller blade before slowly sinking down into his chair. He reached quickly for his cigar and drink, his hands unusually unsteady. He had just taken a large gulp of brandy to settle his nerves and was about to take a long drag on his cigar when there was a pounding on the door. Thinking that it was a frightened or annoyed passenger, he took his time getting to the door. But when he opened it, he was met by the long, drawn face of Harold Bride. His usually smiling face was now somber and no hint of a smile was in his eyes, now wide and glassy.
"You've been requested to come to the officer's quarters." He had just turned around to leave when he suddenly whirled around "oh and bring your blueprints, please." With that he departed, pushing, in his opinion, a little too roughly past the first class passengers.
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The damage to the well deck was, fortunately minimum. The solid, varnished railing had been slightly damaged, and of course the deck had some large dents on it, but all in all he thought it would be fairly easy to fix. But he was still afraid. The large chunks of ice littering the deck was a sure sign that something terrible had happened, a fact which had gone right over the heads of two stupid, drunk third classmen. Turning to his left, he scanned the unworried looks of most of the crew, bypassing the stupid look on the captain untill his eyes rested on one of the junior designers, Jordan Magenta. He beckoned him over, and after giving him strict instructions to check the water tight compartments, sent him on his way. He returned several minutes later, with a grim expression on his face. It was worse than he feared. Six watertight compartments had flooded, and already the water was two floors up and flooding the mail room on F deck. Beckoning all the senior officers to follow him, he walked brusquely to his cabin. After making sure that all the officers were present, he began.
Spreading the map quickly, he placed the ash tray and the now empty glass on each side so that the blueprint wouldn't roll and took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Water, fourteen feet above the keel, and rising fast. Water's already flooding into boilers 1, 3, 4, 5, and compartment 2."
"When can we get on the way?" whined one of the officers.
"THAT'S 5 COMPARTMENTS! Titanic can stay afloat, with the first four compartments flooded… not 5. She'll go down by the head, the water spilling over the tops of the bulkheads. At E deck, from one to the next, back and back, there's no stopping it."
The captain stepped forward, interjecting and, for the first time that night, being useful "the pumps if we…."
"Pumps buy us time…but minutes only. From this moment on we are doomed. Titanic will founder." The now pale and terrified faces around the room confirmed that the people around him were not as stupid as they looked. They had gotten the message. "And how many souls on board, Mr. Murdoch?"
"There are about 2,500 souls on board s…sir." He stuttered. He was afraid. Good, he needed to be. He was about to witness the most horrifying event in his lifetime.
"How much time?" Captain Smith inquired his brow furrowing. Realization had dawned on him; he knew the results that would be produced from only having enough lifeboats for half the passengers.
"An hour….two at the most." He rubbed his temples. The headache was back, but it was now from consternation and fear instead of stress.
He looked around the room. "We have to get into action immediately. I think it best that the stewards and stewardesses all get roused up and told what is happening. Then, maybe have them all start to get people up on deck. The sooner they got to work, the more people can be saved."But, even as he spoke, he knew it was futile. With only enough lifeboats for about half the passengers, it meant that at the least 1,250 people would be dead. It would be a terrible tragedy, a terrible loss. He only prayed that people would listen to the staff, because if they didn't, that number was going to climb very quickly.
Sharpay
Her eyes had just drifted closed when it happened. The noise was so deafening that not only did she have to fight the urge to cover her ears, she had to also fight to not scream. It sounded, to her, as if someone were scraping very sharp fingernails across an immense blackboard. Ryan was stirring above her, and she let out a muffled sob as her bed began to shake harder. Things on her dresser broke, and the mirror that resided directly above it fell. There was a loud thud, and opening her eyes, she saw Ryan lying on the floor from where he had fallen off his bunk. Terrified, she pushed herself into a sitting position before standing up completely and holding onto her bunk she slowly made her way over to the lights. As she flipped them on, she was met with a sight that scared the living shit out of her and filled her, at the same time with wonder.
Something large, misshapen, and white was sliding past their porthole, filling up the whole view. And then it was gone, the boat slipping past whatever it was that had been outside her port hole. The shaking subsided shortly thereafter, leaving her and Ryan in a silence that stifled them. It took her a couple of seconds to find her voice, and when she spoke it sounded so quite that she fought the urge to raise it so that she could hear it. Her ears were still ringing.
"Wh….what was that?" Her hands were shaking, and she had to remove her left hand from the light switch to avoid accidentally turning off the lights. That would only spook her more.
"I…I think that was an iceberg…"
And that's when they noticed the change. As soon as she realized it, she felt immensely sick to her stomach, and she had to fight the urge to vomit. The ship was slowing… What did that mean? She stared into Ryan's eyes, and he seemed to stare back into her with the same intensity and fear. They both jumped when there was a banging at their door. Sharpay stepped away from the frame just in time, because the next second it was slamming open and Sarah, another stewardess, was at the door. The look on her face confirmed Sharpay's fear…something was very wrong. "We've all been requested to get dressed in our uniforms and meet in the staff dining room…I don't know exactly what they want but I have a hunch." With that, she turned and left. Sharpay slammed the door and quickly ran to their closet, grabbing Ryan's tux and throwing it onto his bunk before closing the closet door to change.
Coming out of the closet, she quickly brushed her hair, before turning and opening the door, Ryan closet behind. She was surprised. They couldn't even get out of their room. The whole hallway was packed with anxious and worried stewards and stewardesses. She was even more surprised to see a sniffling Julia hobbling down the hallway, being supported by two stewards whose names Sharpay didn't care to remember at the moment. The trip to the dining area took much longer than she had anticipated, and when they arrived, they were pushed into a corner, almost into a potted plant which had already been shoved out of the way. She didn't really have that much time to look around, because a minute or two later, one of the ships officers, Officer Lightoller. "ATTENTION!" he screamed, and everyone shut up instantly.
"This is important, so I want no talking during this" he took a deep breath "there is no easy way to say this so, I guess I'll just come out and say it…we're sinking." There were gasps, and Sharpay felt her heart leap up in her chest. "Mr. Andrews, the chief architect has looked at the damage caused around 11:40 from a collision with an iceberg and says…it's not good. Five compartments are flooding, and the mailroom is already halfway under water, perhaps all the way… and in his estimations, there is only approximately two hours give or take untill…Titanic will cease to exist. Now, you have an important duty. It is your job to get as many as possible onto the deck so that as many people as possible can get on the lifeboats. Since there are only enough for half the passengers, it'll be a first come first serve basis although it is women and children first. Don't tell anyone you don't have to about ANY of this…we don't need a panic. That's how people get killed….." looking around the room, she could see the fear on everyone's faces. "Try to mask your own emotions. People are…going to be looking to you to see what they have to do. I want everyone in life jackets; we HAVE to set a good example. Now I know you're all afraid…I am too. But if we work together I'm sure we'll make it through this…dismissed."
Sharpay took no time. She turned and quickly threw her arms around her brother, telling him she loved him before turning and pushing her way through the crowd before he could stop her. Running up the corridors, she banged on doors as she went past, leaving it up to people behind her to inform the people that they needed to get ready to be escorted to the poop deck. Pushing her way to a gate, she nodded at one of the keepers who quickly let her through and she ran up the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. Stopping before the door that let out onto the first class hallways, she took a deep breath, smoothing down her hair and her dress. Pushing open the door, she started the short walk toward her charges rooms, all the while finding it more and more difficult to keep a smiling, happy face plastered on. Pretending that everything was alright when it really wasn't was something that, while sounding easy wasn't. She wanted to scream, to tell them all that soon, for the first time, their money wouldn't be able to save them...although invariably it did. No self respecting liner would let the rich and famous-the important people-drown.
Rounding the hall she stopped. Indecisiveness closed in around her and for a moment she felt like hyperventilating…who was she supposed to tell first? Troy because he was the love of her life? Mr. and Mrs. Astor because they were so kind and loving, and a lot older… they could possibly take longer to get ready…or Cal because he was an ass and getting any confrontation with him over with the sooner the better was…better. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm herself enough to figure it out…and her mind was invariably screaming Mr. and Mrs. Astor. Sighing, she looked wistfully at Troy's room before turning and knocking on the Astor's door. There was a grumbling sound and she quickly let herself in, turning on one of the lamps in the living room before crossing over to the bedroom.
Mr. Astor met her as she was about to tap on their door, which made her jump. He looked slightly pissed, but right now she could care less. "Whats wrong? Why are you bothering us at this time of night? Do you have any idea what time it is?"
She was stunned, she had never been talked to like this before…not by them anyway. She was trying to find the right words to say when she heard sweet Mrs. Astor's voice ring out "Charles…let the poor girl breathe and explain for a second before you get all angry." She came out of the bedroom in a pink, silk gown. When she saw her face, something quickly flittered across it, but she couldn't tell what. "What's wrong dear?"
"I…I've been sent to tell you that you have to start getting ready to get up. I'm supposed to take you up on deck. In fact…everyone is. We are having a bit of an emergency and we need to get everyone on deck so that we minimize the danger."
"What kind of emergency? Nothing too serious I hope…" her voice trailed off as Sharpay quickly stood and walked over to the bedroom.
"May I suggest a nice suite and heavy top coat for you Mr. Astor and maybe a nice, cocktail dress with fur coat for you Mrs. Astor? I'll just lay them on the bed and be back in a second to help get that corset on." With that, she left, completely bewildering the elderly couple who were still sitting on the pink couch. Exiting the room, she turned and walked quickly across the hall, and flung open the door to Troy's room. He was already awake, pacing around the living room in a burgundy colored robe. He turned when he saw her enter, and started talking almost at once.
"I think the engines have stopped but I just don't know…I'm not really too sure…a little too tired to actually tell. Do you know?"
"Troy I-"
"And then what was that shaking? I mean it wasn't that much of a shake, but still….that was completely abnormal. Not like the engines."
"Troy I-"
"And then why is everyone up? I've seen at least eight different stewards walk by, each with the same look on their face do you have any idea?"
"TROY!"
"Yeah?"
"Let me talk….I have…I have to tell you something." A sob escaped her lips…one that had been threatening to do so since she herself had been told of the imminent sinking.
Troy walked over to her quickly, talking her into his arms and rocking her back and forward as he tried to console her. "Ssshhhh…Its alright. It'll be okay. Tell me what's wrong."
She stared up at him through her tears "We….we hit an iceberg" Shock swept over his face. "Its…it's not good. 5 compartments are underwater right now, and the water itself is probably up to E deck already. We…we have about two hours at the most before the whole thing is at the bottom of the ocean and I…I just don't…don't know what to do…not now. "
"But the ship can't sink…its unsinkable." He tried to reason.
"It can…if enough water tight compartments flood.
He was pale now, and silent. He stopped rocking her and stayed still, staring straight ahead. She shook with a new wave of sobs, which seemed to bring Troy out of his own thoughts and he kissed her forehead. Leading her toward his couch, he sat her down next to him, and pulled her close, mumbling things in her ear to calm her. But in the back of her mind, she knew they were doomed and that…something was off. They seemed to be sitting funny…as if….they weren't completely level….
Alright guys! I know, I suck, stopping right there. I'm sorry if it's tedious, but it has to be included. Setting the stage and such is necessary. Don't worry, you'll get the perspectives of Cal and Gabriella next, along with some new and shortly lived characters….dun dun dun. But the big news is Titanic is sinking…hinting at the last line. Sorry I haven't been updating. I had my SATs, and then 2 of my sisters b-days-they turned 3 and 6-PSSA prep at school, and college searching. Life is getting to me but I promise I will not be stopping on any story that I have opened. All will be completed. Also, don't worry, Chad and Taylor are going to have whole chaps devoted to just them…not leaving them out. If you like this story, check out my other ones and be sure to vote on my poll…gotta decide what to write after the 4 stories I have started on are done. Peace and HAPPY EASTER!