Noir Fan Fiction ❯ Titanic: An Assignment to Remember ❯ A Bad Omen ( Prologue )

Title: Titanic: An Assignment to Remember

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I do not own nor was I in any way involved with the creation of Noir. If I were you wouldn't be READING this.

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"Unsinkable - indestructible, she carried as few boats as would satisfy the laws. These, twenty-four in number, were securely covered and lashed down to their chocks on the upper deck, and if launched would hold five hundred people. She carried no useless, cumbersome life-rafts; but - because the law required it - each of the three thousand berths in the passengers', officers', and crew's quarters contained a cork jacket, while about twenty circular life-buoys were strewn along the rails."

The Futility or The Wreck of the Titan by Morgan Robertson, 1898

Prologue

The White Star berth in Southampton was a whirl of activity just before noon on April 10, 1912 under a grey and overcast sky. Feeling as though he were standing atop a massive building instead of the deck of a ship, Colonel Archibald Gracie looked with interest down towards the thousands of spectators and well-wishers present to see the new R.M.S. Titanic off on her maiden voyage. The 53-year-old Colonel was neither very tall nor very short with brown hair split in the middle and a large puffy moustache adorning his upper lip. Gracie was a member of the old Knickerbocker family of the same name in addition to being a nephew of President Theodore Roosevelt. The title of Colonel was granted to him through his service in the Seventh Regiment of the U.S. Army. He was independently wealthy, active in real estate, and an amateur military historian having written several books on the subject. One of his most well known books was "The Truth About Chickamauga" which told the story of the famous and bloody Civil War battle that Gracie's father had fought in.
When the secession occurred, Gracie's father, rather than stay with his unionist family, joined the Confederacy. He was promoted to brigadier general and fought at Chickamauga in 1862. He survived the battle to see the siege of Petersburg, Virginia. It was there that he was killed while observing movements of the Union Army. He was later eulogized in a poem by Francis O. Tickner entitled "Gracie of Alabama." It took Archibald seven years to complete his book about Chickamauga. When it was finished and published he was in need of a good rest. He'd spent the past several months in Europe vacationing, now it was time to return home. And what better way to end a vacation than to make the crossing home on the largest ship yet launched and surrounded by good friends no less.
His father's connections to the Confederacy left behind some family relations and friends from the southern states. One of these relations was Mr. Isador Straus and his wife Ida, the founders of Macy's department store. Straus had been a member of the Confederate Government Commissions and, as an agent for the purchase of supplies, helped run the blockade of Europe, owned a china business in Philadelphia, been a member of Congress, and made Macy's a household name. He and his wife were in the twilight of their lives together after having been through so much. Like Gracie, they were returning home from traveling in Europe.
The Strauses and Gracie had met on the portside promenade deck and were now talking together while watching the excitement on the dock far below. There was a slight commotion when a group of stokers came running along towards a gangway, all carrying their belongings over their shoulders. Apparently they had been running late.
As they crossed the gangplank their progress was suddenly blocked by a petty officer. "I'm sorry gentleman, but boarding is finished. I'll have to ask you to leave immediately, you're holding us up," he said with a determined voice.
"Please sir can't you just let us on. This is the only job any of us could get. Every other ship is laid up cause of the strike," one pleaded.
The petty officer didn't even honor them with a reply. He held them back with a stiff, determined hand. The gangplank was dragged back after the stokers had vacated it. The gangway doors were shut and locked amid cries of protest and despair. Titanic was one of only a few ships to be departing today. A coal strike had crippled the shipping business in Southampton. No coal meant no ships, which meant no jobs for a town whose very existence was tied to the sea.
Mr. Straus, although he'd grown up in Georgia, had emigrated from Germany and it showed in the accent with which he spoke. After the situation on the dock had quieted down, Mr. Straus spoke up with his heavy European accent, "I can't say I don't feel sorry for them. They go through all the trouble to get their jobs and are turned away for only being a few minutes late. But promptness is important I suppose, in this day and age," he said turning towards the Colonel.
Gracie was about to respond when he was cut off by the sudden blast of a steam whistle far above. The mooring lines were being drawn up and coiled in their places on deck as a soft feeling of vibration was generated someplace far below. As the crowds below waved and cheered, Titanic drew away, passing several derelict liners on her way out of the harbor. All eyes were trained on this last glimpse of Southampton, all hands waving farewell to the new world in preparation for the arrival in the new one.
Other smaller liners sat derelict in their docks as tugs helped guide the Titanic through. As she passed the dock where the steamer New York was moored Mr. Straus immediately directed the Colonel's attention to her. "I can recall many years ago when Ida and I sailed on the maiden voyage of that small ship down there, back when she was the 'last word in ocean travel.' But, somehow some area of the ship would get flooded and they'd have to close it off for the rest of the crossing. We only had one night in the dining saloon before water came in through the skylight and ruined the room. I hear they never really fixed the problem. But, Mr. Gracie, look how far we have come since them," he said making a wide gesture towards the ship upon which they now stood."
As Mr. Straus was making his point about the progress made since the New York been built he was suddenly interrupted by a loud snap. It sounded almost like a gunshot or even a cannon report. Suddenly a second tore through the air, then a third, a fourth, a fifth. Six loud bangs broke the cheery mood as all six of New York's thick mooring lines snapped due to the water being displaced by the movement of the much larger liner.
As Colonel Gracie gripped the railing in preparation for what seemed to be an inevitable collision tugs were rushing to try to get hold of the New York which was drifting ever faster right into the side of the Titanic. As all hope seemed lost, Gracie noticed a sudden increase in the vibration of the engines below his feet. A sudden burst of energy from the Titanic's port wing propeller gently pushed the New York away at the last second allowing the tugs to attach lines and bring her back to the wharf.
All present gave out a deep sigh of relief. The Colonel turned towards his friends and said simply "well, that's a bad omen, for a start," and said no more