Carlson strode out of the Café Parisienne. He could hardly believe he had just met Colonel Zeitel. But no matter, he had important things to do. Suddenly, Daisy Cashmore walked up to him.
"But my dear! It's Daisy! Daisy Cashmore! Surely you remember" she exclaimed. Carlson remembered alright. She and he had been friends before he started dating Georgia. He'd always known her as a gossip queen.
Daisy continued: "You're a naughty thing! Don't think I didn't know you snuck on at Cherbourg! Smethells told me all about it. The old boy's dripping with news! Heard about Lord and Lady Lambeth. Ruined utterly! Scarcely enough left for appearances I'm told. I always liked Georgia. Married Charles for his name and fortune, sensitive girl. But she's made her nest. Now she must live in it. Well!"
Carlson by this point had had quite enough with Daisy talking about things she knew hardly anything about. "Can we get to the point?" he asked.
"My dear", she said "I have a little favour. A tiny, tiny, tiny one!"
"With pleasure" Carlson said, hoping to make her go away.
She answered, "Tonight at dinner, a man I don't know was making eyes at me! Be an absolute darling and find out who he is."
"How should I do that?" Carlson asked.
"Look him up in the passenger list" Daisy answered. "All I know are his initials: G. Q. C. The list's someplace, find it. I'll wait right here. Tah!" She then proceeded to go back to her place at the landing of the staircase.
As Carlson left to go back to his cabin, he couldn't help but think how she hadn't changed a bit. He walked back down the staircase and proceeded to head back to his room to decode that blasted telegram.
When he returned to his room, he once again marvelled at his large steamer trunk. "Who needs such a big steamer trunk? Oh, that's right! I do!" he thought to himself. He dug the key out of his satchel and unlocked it.
What greeted him was a whole bunch of drawer on one side of the trunk, and on the other was a phonograph with more drawers beneath it. Conveniently, there was already a cylinder on the phonograph. He started cranking the handle. On the record was a man's deep voice.
"Her Majesty's Government has assigned an agent of the Crown to rendezvous with you on board the Titanic. Remain in your cabin until your contact gives you further instructions. After the completion of all your assignments on board, book passage to remain on the ship and return to Southampton for your next assignment. For a more in-depth report of the international situation in the spring of 1912, please review the white paper included as part of this briefing. That is all"
Carlson stopped the cylinder. He recognized the voice now. It was Commander Hipple, who had fired him two years later. That would happen again unless he succeeded this time around. Also, he didn't have time to read any papers, he had a job to do.
Carlson opened the drawer containing the cryptograph. It closely resembled a typewriter, but bulkier and with a different key configuration. He connected the negative and positive wires to supply power to the machine. He then flicked the on switch, and the cryptograph was ready to go.
Carlson dug the telegram out of his pocket, and put it where he could see it. He then entered the numbers and letters on the telegram into the machine, and pressed the "Decode" button. After a series of clicks, the decoded message spewed out of the machine. He took out the paper and read it:
"…Rubaiyat hidden in boiler room 3, coal chute 4, SB will deliver painting after pickup. Will confirm… Zeitel…"
"Who is SB?" thought Carlson. The only person he knew of with those initials was Sasha Barbicon. But why would he be involved with Zeitel?
He would figure that out later, but first he had to find out how to get to the boiler rooms. The lift attendant would know, he thought. They would know their way around the ship.
Carlson left his cabin and walked down the corridor to the C-Deck landing of the Grand Staircase. The lifts, or elevators, were located just behind the staircase.
"Hello. Where to?" asked the lift attendant as Carlson approached him.
"I need directions. Can you help?" asked Carlson, hoping that his assumption was correct.
"I'm the man to ask!" the lift attendant excitedly answered.
"The boiler rooms?" asked Carlson.
"The boiler rooms? Blimey!" exclaimed the lift attendant. "Passengers ain't allowed down there!" He then continued: "Take the Second Class Stairs down to F-Deck. I fancy there's some stairs down from there. Where do you need to go?"
"Nowhere. I'll stay here, thanks" answered Carlson as he made his leave.
"Suit yourself. Goodnight!" the lift attendant responded.
"What a cheek!" thought Carlson to himself.
Carlson found his way to the boat deck and went to the Second Class Stairs, where he had met Georgia a while earlier. He went down several flights of stairs until he ran into a man on the E-Deck landing.
"A fine night to be indoors, cold as the dickens outside. Cold, but clear" said the man in a low voice.
Carlson nodded in agreement. "Who are you?" he asked the stranger.
"Clear as a bell and the stars! Oh you should see! A million stars in God's firmament. A congregation of light" the man responded. "The names Trout. The Reverend Edgar Trout. I'm returning from a mission in Africa to Sunapee, New Hampshire where we…I mean… I live. Emily my wife, she's dead."
"My sympathies" Carlson empathized.
"Thank you" Trout said. "We had looked forward to this journey, but she died at Port Saheed. Though it was Nyasaland that killed her, the doctors you know never did find all the parasites."
"Is there anything else?" asked Carlson, hoping that Trout would just shut up.
"Take this card, a prayer card. From my own collection." Trout handed the card to Carlson. "So you must like this section of the Titanic?" he asked.
"What section do you mean?" asked Carlson.
"Here! Second Class" Trout answered. "You can get to Scotland Road from here. Do you know it, Scotland Road?"
"Yes I know it. Good night" said Carlson. Of course he knew Scotland Road. It was a passageway linking many parts of the ship which the crew used to get to parts of the ship quickly. As he tried to leave, Trout stopped him.
"Wait! Before you leave, I was wondering. Perhaps you'd care to make a donation to our mission in Nyasaland."
"No, not now" said Carlson. He had more important work to do than to make donations.
"Sorry to have bothered you. Perhaps another time. Good evening" said Trout as he left Carlson.
Carlson walked down the next flight of stairs to F-Deck. Once he got to the cabin area, he found the stairs to the lower decks near Penny's room. A stairwell led him to the door to the turbine room. The turbine room was huge, just like the ship. He walked along a catwalk to the control room. He was about to open the door to the engine room when a crewman stopped him.
"What there? A passenger?" said the crewman. "I can't regulate the steam for boilers 1 and 2. So I don't have time for you, you're where you shouldn't be. Now get up top, 'fore you're kicked up there!"
Once again Carlson thought up a way to diffuse the situation. "Maybe I can solve that problem for you" he said. He had studied engines when he was at the university.
"Well I doubt it. She's still acting up" the crewman answered. He pointed to the control panel. "See? Still working the bugs out of her! See for yourself!"
"I'll help you" said Carlson, hoping to subdue the crewman's anger.
"Have at it" the crewman answered. "There's a gauge showing the turbine's power output. The needles gotta move into the green zone. Over here!"
Carlson walked to the control panel. After studying the controls a bit, he figured out how to fix it. He fiddled with three of the levers until the needle moved into the green zone. He then turned to the crewman.
"Right smart you were" said the crewman. "She's running much smoother now. Say, since you were so interested, go on, have a peak in the engine room, she's quite a sight!"
Carlson proceeded to enter the Engine Room. Again, he was amazed by its size. He continued along the catwalk until he reached the door to Boiler Room 1. He walked through the first two boiler rooms until he got to Boiler Room 3, where the Rubaiyat was stashed. He immediately noticed someone else on the catwalk. He definitely wasn't a stoker, but he looked like he had been there a long time. His clothes were also ragged. As Carlson approached the man, the other man walked up to him.
"You are a passenger! Excuse me, I would speak with you…" said the man in a seemingly eastern European accent.
"What do you want?" asked Carlson, reading the other man's desperation.
"Forgive me, I am sorry to intrude on you, a person of such high station. I am Vlad."
"Such high station? Hardly!" thought Carlson. "What are your troubles?" he asked.
"I have many" Vlad answered. "I am leaving my home. I'm a Serb and they have killed my wife, my children…" His eyes suddenly glowed with hate. "…the Austrians. For that they will pay. But, I do not want to burden you. Please, I need a favour. I've a friend in First Class. In cabin A-14. Mr. Barbicon has a package for me, can you bring it here?"
It was then that Carlson knew for sure that Sasha Barbicon was involved. Furthermore, he had finally realized what Vlad was down here for. He was down here to get the Rubayait for Sasha! He couldn't let him do that! "Why are you down here?" asked Carlson, hiding his sudden revelation.
"I am a stowaway" Vlad answered. "If I am caught, maybe, they'll throw me overboard. Please get the package. I've eaten nothing for days, save for a rat who was not so fast."
Carlson wanted to feel sorry for Vlad, but he couldn't. "What is your friends name?" he asked, pretending not to have known.
"His name is Barbicon" Vlad repeated. "In A-14. Tell him you've come from Vlad. He will give you the package. I'll wait here for your return. Your assistance will be repaid manifold"
It was then that Carlson realized just how complicated this mission had gotten. It was bad enough worrying about Zeitel, but Sasha and this stowaway Vlad?
He had to figure out quickly how to get the Rubayait. But could he do it?
TO BE CONTINUED
COMING NEXT: The Rubaiyat Retrieved