Chapter 6

After Gauron leaves the room, I lay back down on the floor, troubled. Sleep is no longer a choice; too much has happened already that would prevent any chance of a restful night. Instead, I stare at the dark ceiling, absentmindedly brushing my fingers over my lips.

Gauron…

Drifting out here in the middle of the ocean, a terrorist piloting your ship, with no military support to back you up.

Was this, perhaps, bliss?

If it was, it might not be so bad after all.

At this thought, I feel slightly alarmed- the military had almost always been my life- even Gauron declared it so. How could I dream of leaving it? I'd be turning my back on the people who had kept faith in me!

But what if…Melissa was right? What if I needed a life outside of Mithril as well?

This idea unsettles me. Deciding that I don't wish to brood over this matter any longer, I quickly sit up and walk over to the ship's porthole. Carefully, I push it open.

The freezing, April night is breathtakingly beautiful. There's a slight, icy ocean breeze, but other than that, the sea is completely calm, completely tranquil. It's like a stained glass window- the ocean shines in an aquamarine essence as the moon spills its light onto its surface. I shiver, because although there's only a small gust of wind, the temperature is still dangerously low.

All of a sudden, I feel a rumbling beneath my feet.

Such a situation occurring on a ship in the middle of the ocean was definitely, definitely not good. What was going on?

The rumbling continues, increasing in tension. From outside of the porthole I hear a scraping sound, like something was brushing against the metal. Except that it wasn't merely brushing. It was doing more than that.

The object soon moves past my porthole, and by its large, bulky mass, I identify it as an iceberg. An iceberg! Several chunks of ice break off from the mother and fall into the cabin, serving as the proof of the event I'd just witnessed.

I didn't know what was going on, but one thing was clear: we'd scraped against an iceberg*.

I turn and run. Out the hallway. Into the elevator. I'm looking at my watch as I run, and the time reads 11:43 P.M. So we came into contact with the berg around 11:40*.

The elevator ascends much too slowly. As it climbs each level, I run through the basics of a ship in my head. The Heroic uses state of the art technology, obviously, because this is Gauron's ship. Therefore, it's bound to have watertight compartments. Hopefully, the iceberg didn't cause much damage, as most passengers are still sleeping.

The doors finally open, and I race to the bridge, the command center of the ship. No doubt that Gauron is already there. The impact of the collision wasn't intense, so maybe a number of people might not have felt it at this time of the night. But the ship's officers definitely would have. You don't get selected by Gauron to command a ship if you're inept.

As I enter, I'm surprised to only find three men there- Gauron, obviously, and two others. One is dressed in heavy layers of clothing. Probably one of the crewmembers stationed on the deck, I think to myself. The other is holding several papers, discussing rapidly and urgently with Gauron, who looks fairly composed, although his eyes contain some sign of concern. A rare emotion for Gauron, who never has any worries in the world.

"Gauron," I say loudly. The men turn towards me, bewildered to find a passenger in the bridge*, where only crewmembers are allowed, and especially one that would dare to address the highest-ranking officer without any honorifics.

"That's Captain Gauron to you, Kashim," Gauron replies nonchalantly. "And I guess I can't count on you to sleep peacefully through this whole ordeal, can I?"

I snort, offended. "Of course not."

The man in the coat turns to his captain. "Excuse me, Captain Gauron, but are you acquaintances with this lad?"

"I suppose you could say that." Gauron sniffs.

"Well then, sir, there's nothing to worry about," the man continues, assuring, "we've got this mess under control. Now hurry back to your cabin before it gets any colder." He makes a feeble attempt at a smile.

"I don't think so," I say slowly. "I overheard him talking earlier." I gesture towards the man with the papers, fairly certain now that he was the one in charge of the ship's designing*. "He said that five of your precious watertight compartments are taking on water."

"So?" The coated man challenges. I spot Gauron out of the corner of my eye. He's silently watching, not making any commentary.

"So, Mr. Lookout*," I say, because the binoculars around his neck as well as his apparel have finally clicked in my head, "your ship isn't going to last much longer. I'd say, probably around one to one and a half hours."

The lookout turns, stunned, and casts an inquiring glance at the ship designer, who gives a solemn nod.

"Bravo, Kashim. I'd never expected anything less from you." Gauron steps forward and places his hand on my shoulder, his eyes twinkling with adoration. Then, turning to bark orders at his commanding crew, he declares, "Wake the passengers. Tell them that we're having a lifeboat drill, and all of them need to wear their life vests. Get a hold of the other officers as well; we'll need them to supervise the loading of lifeboats."

"Yes, sir."

The two men rush off, leaving Gauron and I alone to decide the fate of the Heroic.

A pause. Then, "Nee, Kashim…if this ship turns out to be like the Titanic, would you go down with it?" He slowly bends down to rest his head on mine, thoughtful. "…Would you go down with me?"

His words catch me off guard. Gauron doesn't strike me as the type to be wistful, or one that would think of the future. He'd always been the spur-of-the-moment guy, one whose insane luck or skill denied him the passage to death. I decide to choose my words carefully, aware that Gauron's serious tone speaks the truth.

"I don't know," I find myself saying, "because I don't think that this will end in a tragedy."

"And why ever not? Aren't you the one who insisted on telling off the lookout and head designer of my ship?" Gauron smiles ruefully at the thought.

"Well, I know one thing for sure… as long as I'm still alive and breathing, I'm going to do everything in my power to prevent a disaster." My words ring with determination as I grow surer and surer with each word. "The people of this ship are counting on me. Captain Testarossa is counting on me. I can't let her down-and perhaps this'll make up for what I've done." My words are barely a whisper by the last sentence.

Gauron adjusts his position on my head. "Touching, truly touching."

"Somehow the way you say that makes me want to throw you overboard."

Gauron laughs. "Remember, I'm the captain, Kashim. You follow my orders."

I shrug him off, partly because I'm annoyed, and partly because the sound of voices have drifted out into the night air. Turning, we see several people in life vests heading onto the deck, grumbling and looking in no mood to perform a lifeboat "drill."

"They don't believe that the ship is sinking," I whisper. "Perhaps we should inform them of the situation and-" But Gauron cuts me off.

"Kashim, if we told them that the ship is going to sink in less than two hours, chaos would ensue, and people would be scrambling to get into the lifeboats. This way, while we still have a peaceful crowd and not a panicked crowd of people, we can fill the lifeboats much easier."

"Well, then, your wish is my command, Captain," I say sarcastically. "Have you sent out the distress call yet, Captain?"

"Done, done, and done. Though it would be nice if any of them were actually useful," Gauron remarks bitterly. "We received a telegraph from seven ships, the farthest being five hundred miles away*, and the closest being forty-nine miles*."

I think this piece of information over. Forty nine miles…even if the ship headed our way as fast as they could, they wouldn't arrive in time…My heart beats more rapidly. The thought of not making it off this ship alive was very, very likely.

"I'm going to go and save as many people as I can," I declare suddenly to Gauron, before running out of the bridge. Making my way to the deck, where the crowd is centered, I race to an officer who is busy supervising the loading of lifeboats.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm here on the authority of Captain Gauron," I start. "I wanted to know if there's anything I can do to help out."

"Huh?" The officer asks stupidly. "Look, kid, I kinda got my hands full with these people right now, you mind asking someone else?" He pauses for a moment. "Though I doubt the ones not loading the lifeboats are any more available than I am…"

I try my best to suppress a growl of frustration. "Well then what do you-," I start. "Wait a minute, why not?"

"This is a lifeboat drill people, we need to load the lifeboats! Ladies and children first, please!" The officer shouts at the crowd. Without even turning around, he says, loudly, "There's a ship in our near vicinity about ten miles away*. But it's not responding to any of our calls for help. Several of our men are already trying to fire distress rockets. Now shoo, shoo." He starts to help a woman in a dark red dress into the lifeboat.

A ship not responding to our calls for help? What had gone wrong? And why had the universe chosen to place a ship nearby that could potentially save us, but ironically, wasn't even replying? Running over to the edge of the deck on the starboard side, I squint my eyes and peer very closely at the horizon. At first, I see nothing.

Leaning dangerously over the ship, I stare once more, looking for any sign of a light. No…not there…wait! There! A faint row of lights, twinkling in the distance. At this distance, they would be able to spot any rockets fired from our ship!

Just as I'm heading back to the bridge to inform Gauron, I hear a boom.

"Look, fireworks, Mommy!" A little girl near me cries.

"Hush, little one," The mother replies. Her face contorts into an expression of worry.

The flash of white light streaks across the night sky. There, it's impossible to miss that. We're going to be rescued. We will. We will.

We have to.

*Iceberg- Prior to what most people think, the Titanic only scraped against the iceberg on its starboard side; it wasn't a collision, therefore many sleeping passengers were not awakened by it. However, the damage was large enough.

*11:40 PM- On April 14th, 1912, the Titanic made contact with the iceberg at 11:40.

*Bridge- The navigation center of the ship. It housed the switches to shut the watertight doors.

*Ship's designing- The real head designer of the Titanic was Thomas Andrews. He and Captain Smith conducted a tour of the ship after the iceberg made contact with the ship, and it was he who declared that the ship would only survive for another hour or so. He died in the sinking.

*Lookout- The lookout of the Titanic was named Frederick Fleet. He was the one who spotted the iceberg.

*Five hundred miles- The ship who responded five hundred miles away was the Olympic.

*Forty nine miles- The ship who responded forty nine miles away was Mount Temple. However, the first ship to arrive was the Carpathia (58 miles away, and although her normal speed was around 14 knots, Captain Rostron of the Carpathia managed to push it to 17.5).

*Ship about ten miles away- This mysterious ship is said to have been the Californian.