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Two in the afternoon on the RMS Titanic found Chief Officer Wilde relieving First Officer Murdoch, and it also found James Moody working in the chartroom. He had been on watch for two hours, and the entire time had been spent fretting over Horatio's whereabouts until common sense and a need for distraction sent him back to the Wireless Room to retrieve any and all ice warnings to post for the Bridge crew. There weren't many, but even as he tacked off the coordinates on the map overhanging the navigation table, he could start piecing together the ice field.
As he worked, his mind calculated speed and distance, trying to find an approximate time to be concerned. From what little knowledge he had gotten in his future jaunt, she went down after three on the 15th. It had said that there were about two hours between the impact and the actual foundering of the Titanic, so he could only guess that she hit the berg anywhere between twelve-thirty and one-thirty in the morning.
What bothered Moody most, though, was that he just wasn't sure. In the back of his mind, he pondered everything between the accuracy of the papers to the map overhead, trying his hardest to come up with as close a time as possible. He had already made up his mind that if all else failed, he would sacrifice his career and forcibly commandeer the ship at that time.
Needless to say, James didn't want to resort to that.
So, with a lingering frown, he went back to work and turned options over and over in his mind.
Not too long after Wilde had gotten onto watch did Hornblower find his way back up onto the boatdeck. Glancing up and down the decks that did their best to make his feet ache, he then moved onto the Bridge in search of James, offering a polite nod to the officers that were there.
Henry nodded back, giving him a cursory glance over for the sake of his own curiosity, and Will gave him a smile that was practically all sunlight, commenting before the other man could escape, "Mr. Lowe. Have you made it to the barber yet, or haven't you had a chance?"
"I haven't gotten the chance yet, sirs." Horatio nodded, cursing himself for even forgetting that he was supposed to cut his hair. He had gotten caught up in the beauty of the ship, and now he was being questioned.
"Well, when you get an opportunity," Murdoch said, lightly. He was in a good mood, and they had just gotten done with their final stop in Queenstown. The prospect of being on the open sea appealed to any sailor, even one who had taken this run for as long as Will had.
"Aye aye, sir. Thank you." Leaving himself a mental sigh of relief, Horatio moved to find Moody, honestly uncomfortable under the eyes of his two superiors.
Wilde inched his way over to Murdoch, standing next to the shorter man as he watched Hornblower disappear through the wheelhouse and into the chartroom. Once the young officer was gone, he said, "There's still something peculiar about him, Will. I can't piece it all together, though."
Nodding, Will crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "I was thinking the same thing. Maybe we should ask around and see if anyone knows what might have happened to him."
"May be an idea, old man."
James looked up from his navigating when Horatio walked in, offering him a slightly solemn smile. "Get lost yet?"
"Not quite yet," Hornblower confirmed, grinning and looking over the chart Moody had been working on. "I think perhaps I'll get lost as soon as I venture too far away from the Bridge."
"I know I still get confused on this monster." James shook his head, grinning himself as he leaned back in his chair. "There are places on this ship I know I've never been to."
"Never fail to be surprised then, eh?" Picking up one of the ice warnings, Horatio looked it over with a frown. "Where'd you get this?"
"The Wireless Room," Moody answered, nodding his head aftwards.
"Wireless Room? Perhaps it seems like an odd question, but aren't all rooms wireless?"
Jimmy's face lit up in a grin. Of course Hornblower wouldn't know what a wireless radio was... but this gave him the perfect opportunity to show him. He stood and straightened his uniform jacket. "C'mon, I'll show you what I mean."
Shrugging, the Third Lieutenant nodded and allowed Moody to lead the way. James slipped out of the chartroom, heading back the hallway around the Officer's Quarters before sticking his head into a smallish room at the back. "Gents."
Jack Phillips, a young and handsome fellow, looked up and slipped one headphone off to regard Moody. "No new ice warnings. But if you wanted to know what room the Countess of Rothes is booked for, I could tell you that."
"That's quite all right," James snickered, stepping into the room.
Looking after Moody, Horatio decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut, and he leaned on the counter, grinning slightly. He wasn't sure what the room was for, but it almost seemed like it belonged in some Admiral's home with it's shiny parts.
"Aren't you on duty, Jim?" Harold Bride asked, pushing the curtain between the bunk and the table aside. He set his book down.
Moody picked up a message, idly reading it. "I was sent back here to bother you."
"Suuuuure, sir." Jack shook his head, putting the headphones back on right before turning to the key. Within a few seconds, he was back to work. Birthday or no, he was a dedicated lad.
"What's it say?" Horatio couldn't help but let the curiosity get to him. It had to have been something terribly important to be in a room like he was in. Perhaps they were some orders that were to be sent out immediately.
Moody listened for a moment or two, then leaned over to Horatio and whispered, "To Millie. Arriving on Wednesday. Order cigars and buy brandy." He barely held a straight face as he finished, "Love, snookums."
Raising an eyebrow, Hornblower looked over at Moody, then to Jack who was hard at work. "Is it in code?"
"Morse," Moody replied.
"Well, what's that, then?"
"Er... well, a code where dots and dashes represent letters of the alphabet."
Shaking his head, Horatio realized that things were just going to get more and more confusing for him. "And you know it as well?"
Wincing slightly, Moody dropped his voice even further, "All of the officers know it."
"Oh," was all the lieutenant was able to offer as a reply.
Both of the Wireless boys had gone back to their own ambitions... they were fairly used to keeping company only with each other, and were very good at tuning out anything that interfered with their work or reading. James watched a moment or two longer before leaving, pausing outside the door to wait for Horatio to follow.
Letting his eyes glance over the grandeur of the Wireless Room one last time, he then moved back to walk behind Moody. "This ship... It's amazing," Horatio said, his voice quite soft. Everything seemed so elaborate, even the most simple of things.
"Big, that's what." Moody chuckled, "I suppose you get used to them after a while, though."
"It would certainly take a lot." Letting his hands rest behind his back, Hornblower nodded. "What do you have left to do?"
"One more walk on the rounds," James answered, taking his watch out and looking at it, "and then final reports. You've got the first dogwatch today, and I've got the second."
"All right. Want me to walk with you?"
"If you like." Moody nodded and stepped onto the Bridge, touching his hat to Wilde before heading to starboard rounds.
Grinning somewhat sheepishly, Horatio did the same, then followed Moody off the Bridge. "Mr. Murdoch said that I should cut my hair when I get the chance... Think I can get away with never having a chance?"
"I don't know," James replied, dubiously. "You could try, but I doubt they would allow their patience to be tested all the way to New York."
"I guess I should probably do what they say, then. Where is the barber, anyway?"
"B-Deck, I believe... but don't quote me on that."
Nodding once again, Horatio glanced around. "Think I should go now or wait?"
"I would get it over with, but it's really your decision," Moody said with a shrug.
"I think you're right. Besides, if I get lost, I'll have more time to find my way back." Patting Moody on the shoulder, Horatio turned to go and find someone who could direct him below to the correct spot.
It didn't take long for the out-of-time sailor to get lost in the great bowels of the ship. Every turn led to a corridor that had at least two different choices from there, and as far as Hornblower could tell, everything looked the same. The whole ship was designed beautifully, and was certainly something he knew that he would never see again in his lifetime.
Horatio admired the make of the ship, but he also felt homesick for the feel of wood under his feet. He honestly loved working on the masted ships, and feeling the roll of the whole waves as the vessel would travel through the water, even though it still was enough to make him seasick if he was caught off guard. Of course, he couldn't feel anything on Titanic other than the rumbling of the engines below, and even that was faint to him, and unfamiliar.
Turning around another corner, he nodded and smiled to a few nicely dressed passengers that passed him, though none of them seemed to acknowledge him in return. Again, he was in another hallway that looked just the same as the last. If the rooms hadn't been numbered, he was sure that he would have been walking through the same corridor he had been a moment before.
The young man sighed slightly, letting his mind wander. He idly wondered if Archie and Harold were back on the Renown, or if they were somewhere else. Logic would say that they would have been sent back, but the whole situation didn't make sense in the first place, so one could never know what had happened.
What if he were never to see his old ship again? Or if he were to lose his best friend because of some dreamlike phenomenon? Horatio didn't like the thought that he might be trapped in the future with people he didn't know and machines he had no clue how to work. What would he do with his life? Continue working on ships who's sails had been replaced with smoke and steam? Would he be doomed to a life that catered to rich, high-class people that demanded everything be done to their specifications in less time than possible? Hornblower shook his head at the thought and stopped, glancing around once again.
He was completely lost. Trying to turn back and follow his steps back onto the deck, he groaned when he noted a new set of numbers on the doors along the hallway. He was sure that he had never traveled down the row of rooms, and when someone in a tidy uniform walked around the corner towards him, he was amazingly relieved.
A moment of conversation with the young steward told Hornblower that he really wasn't too terribly far from the barber's, and being the typical cynic that he was, he attributed it to luck alone. Then, following the precise directions from his guide, he continued his way through the halls, finally standing in front of a door with a slight frown on his face.
Knocking lightly, the acting-Fifth Officer was rewarded with a smiling man behind it that had swung it open. He was somewhat tall, with a gracious grin on his face. Horatio couldn't help but notice, though, that he was rather bald, and a groan escaped lightly in his throat. That wasn't the barber; he couldn't be.
"Here for a trim, good man?" the man asked, obviously eyeing the locks tied behind Hornblower's head.
"Yes, sir." Hornblower nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. "Does the barber happen to be in?"
The older man nodded under his mustache. "Augustus Weikman at your service."
The Third Lieutenant couldn't help but smirk at his misfortune, and stepped past the man as he moved aside. "A pleasure," the younger man replied, almost wincing at the slight contempt that seemed to edge his voice.
Sitting in the chair, he listened to Weikman chatter consistently about passengers with little interest. It wasn't until he felt the first brutal cut that he winced, feeling his long ponytail separated from his head. Everything felt too light to him after that point, and with each rasping snip he flinched involuntarily until the barber reprimanded him and he forced himself to remain still. At that point, he was sure he would regret, and even mourn the loss of his hair.
"Have the warnings all posted, do you?" Joseph Boxhall asked, leaning over Moody's shoulder with a bit of a grin. The Fourth Officer was usually left to navigation outside of his normal duties, and he was an excellent navigator. So it made him smile to see his watch partner working on charting himself.
"As soon as I get 'em," Moody answered, brow furrowed in concentration. Sir was rarely used among the three junior most officers, as they all were roughly the same age and got along well. "We'll be coming up on an ice field."
Boxhall glanced over the map posted above the table. "Think the Captain plans on slowing?"
"I would hope so. From what I can gather, it's quite a stretch." James rubbed his eyes before getting back to the mathematics and maps. "Nothing to plow blindly into."
"No... definitely not," Joseph agreed, kneeling next to Jimmy's chair to watch. "Where's Harold?"
"Getting his hair cut, I think."
Boxhall frowned for a moment. "So it's true that he grew a foot of hair in less than an hour?"
Moody bit down a smirk, and did his best to nod solemnly. "I'm sure it was The Coffee." He couldn't resist, however, a grin when he noticed the involuntary shudder Joseph gave when he mentioned the less-than-safe beverage.
"We'd better be getting a new stock when we hit New York, that's all I'm going to say," Boxhall muttered, as he stood back up. "I don't know what went bad with it, but it's certainly not fit to drink."
"I think it's someone's idea of a sick joke, honestly." Moody sat back in the chair, setting his pencil down and looking up at Joseph with a joking smile. "That or someone's trying to poison us."
"Either or, I won't touch the stuff."
Not a moment after Joseph had come to his point, Horatio managed to make his way into the chart room, mentally trying to see past the fact that he had so little hair.
"Harold," Boxhall greeted, giving Hornblower a grin. "Have it all whacked off, eh?"
Moody leaned back further in his chair still, looking at Horatio with a semi-sympathetic smile. "Looks neat, old man."
Nodding, Hornblower leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, his voice slightly bitter. "I think the man would have made me bald if he could have."
Joseph, in a sort of big brother mentality... year younger than Lowe or not, he was a rank above... reached over and pulled the hat off, then eyed the haircut. "Bald? Looks regulation to me, Harry."
"Just barely," Horatio replied, shaking his head. "I guess I grew to like the tail when I had it."
"The unkept rebel look?" the Fourth Officer teased, tossing the hat back to Hornblower. "Or was it something more, oh I don't know... ladylike?"
Jimmy rolled his eyes and swatted Boxhall across the leg with the back of his hand. "Joey, go find something to do with yourself."
"Hey, you're not supposed to be ordering me around..." Boxhall sighed in mock agitation, shaking his head. "What's the service coming to? Long hair and Sixth Officers ordering about Fourth Officers..."
"Oh, will you quit it?!" Moody laughed at the theatrics. "I haven't seen such pitiful acting since my school days!"
"Fine, fine," Joseph sighed again, still in a good mood. "I'll just go and find someone who appreciates my talents." And with that, he slipped from the chartroom.
Smirking, Horatio replaced his hat and looked after Boxhall as he left. "He reminds me of Archie a bit."
"Don't mind him, he's just happy because I'm doing his job for him," Moody snickered, going back to the map and calculations. "Usually it's him who's stuck plotting everything out, and all I generally have to do is supervise the quartermasters and walk the rounds."
"Sounds like a horribly tedious job. You certainly have my sympathies." Chuckling, Hornblower made his way over to the map and looked over what had been placed on the paper meticulously. "Are all of you so well versed in navigation?"
"Mostly, yes," James answered, honestly. "Joseph's by far the best... and the quickest, but all of us know how to handle a sextant." He grinned, brightly. "Afterall, they practically drilled that into me when I was in school, and I know damn well that everyone else was trained by the Royal Navy or whichever company apprenticed them."
"We should be so lucky." Horatio grinned, looking over at his companion. "It came quite easy to me, but I remember that Archie had a hell of a time until it clicked for him one day. I always let him check my calculations, and between the two of us, no one else needs to do much work."
"Boxhall's usually in charge of it, but we all dead-reckon at noon, and at eight." Moody shrugged. "He usually has myself or the Officer of the Watch check his calculations."
"Always a good policy. I think it would be much, much safer to do the same now."
"Which is exactly why I'm posting it." James grinned slightly. "And with any luck, it'll be talked about and they'll decide to slow." In the back of his mind, he added to himself, "Lord willing."