The Titan Drowns: Time Travel Romance, Nhys Glover [phonics story books .txt] 📗

the utter darkness in its place pressed heavily around her. The dog stopped its irate barking and only the distant sound of wagons moving along the lamp-lit main road could be heard.

Pia shivered. It was always hard to handle the instant change in temperature from New Atlantis to the Jump destination. In this case, it was from thirty degrees Celsius to about eight degrees. The heavy coat she wore, which only moments before had been sweltering, was now having trouble keeping out the cold. She wrapped her woollen scarf more tightly around her neck and buried her gloved hands in the deep pockets of her coat.

Then, wordlessly, the group started moving down the heavily rutted alley toward the streetlight at the end of the lane. Her sensitised hearing picked up the sound of six sets of footsteps padding carefully along with hers.

When they reached the street and stood beneath the dingy halo of lamplight to get their bearings, she looked closely at each of the faces that surrounded her. These were people she had known and worked with for at least a year, and though she didn’t know any of them as friends, except Jane, she trusted them all with her life. It was part of the job – trusting your team. If you couldn’t do that, then you were better off not Jumping. It took her a long time to learn that lesson.

Trust didn’t come naturally to her. It might have been because her mother had left her when she was a child. It might have been because her husband had left her shortly after he’d married her for the baby she had subsequently lost. They’d both been eighteen; too young to have made a go of it, even if the conditions had been optimal. However, the Second Dark Age had not been optimal for anything but death and the fragile bond between two lonely teenagers had easily been severed when their child was gone.

The Last Great Plague had come along just a few years later and taken what was left of those she cared about. It left her to fend for herself in the deserted, snowy streets of Stravanger, Norway, until help finally arrived two long weeks later. That, too, might have been the cause of her distrust. Being the only one left alive in a village full of the dead was an eternity when you believed you were the only person left alive on the planet. Who else was there to rely on then but yourself?

However, if she was honest, none of that was the reason for her distrustful nature. It was more that she had never expected anyone to care enough about her to stand by her. After all, she was nothing special—just a tall, gawky girl too shy to string more than two words together. Not particularly pretty, not particularly smart, not particularly funny or interesting. Why would anyone feel the need to have her around?

Jane NewSW was one of the few people who had ever seemed interested in befriending her over the years. Beautiful, bright and beloved, Jane was everything Pia wanted to be. And though Jane had told her on many occasions that in her Original she had been shier and even more socially inept than Pia, she still didn’t believe it. After all, the dashingly handsome Julio Santa Catarina would not have fallen head-over-heels in love with the girl Jane described herself to be back then. He was a lone wolf with a chilly chip on his shoulder before Jane came into his life. A man who cared so little for others and who could have any woman he wanted, would hardly fall for someone who wasn’t beautiful and delightfully special. Only someone incredibly rare would have tempted such a jaded pallet. It didn’t make sense the way Jane told it, so she knew Jane exaggerated or told white lies to make her feel better.

She watched Jane now, resting her head against Julio’s shoulder, looking up at him impishly to make him smile. And even though he was obviously tense and worried, Julio couldn’t help smiling down at her and gently stroking back a tendril of bright copper hair from her perfect face.

Feeling like an intruder on a private moment, Pia turned away to the other loving couple in the group, Cara Westchester and Jac Ulster – their matching white-blonde hair made them look more like brother and sister than Bonded mates. Jac was a six feet six inch Nordic giant – well, he was in this body. His Original body had been shorter and less coldly perfect. However, Jac had been mortally injured in-situ, and the only body available to replace his own had been the unused spare of a recently dead friend. Jac had changed their world the day he took on that new body and broken the nine-life-limit on their lifespan, and he had done it for Cara, who now stood at his side, her carefully controlled excitement alive in her big, blue eyes.

That left Luke Bedford, the American World War II ex-Commando and Bart, his adopted son. In this moment, they both looked deadly, and Pia wondered at the Fates that had given Bart a new father who, in temperament and looks, could have been his biological parent.

The rattle of a passing horse and wagon drew her from her musing. She expected the driver to look at them with curiosity, but he didn’t as much as glance their way. He may have seen many such groups already that morning making for Southampton docks a mile away, all the possessions they had in the world contained in battered hand luggage or knotted cloth.

‘Let’s get going,’ Jac said quietly, repositioning his satchel on his shoulder and taking Cara’s gloved hand in his to draw her along beside him. Pia noticed he limited his strides to match those of his shorter mate. Julio did the same, although the discrepancy in height between Julio and Jane was not as pronounced. Luke and Bart kept up with no trouble, and Pia, with her long legs, also found the pace well within her range. Her valise was light but bulky, so she carried it at her side.

Time passed in a haze of impatient worry. Every stage of their mission played over and over in her mind so that the dimly lit, foreign streets they passed were just a background blur; unreal and yet entirely too real.

How long had they been walking? It felt like forever and yet the dark, cramped rows of houses flew by quickly as they strode ever closer to the sea. Surprised, Pia noted the sky lightening on the horizon. Was dawn so close? Sunrise, she knew, was at 6.15 a.m. at this time of year. That meant it was probably getting close to six now.

The misty air she breathed out told her it was cold, but the exercise was warming her up, so she no longer felt it. For the first time since their arrival, she felt excitement rising. Ever since she’d been told their mission destination she’d been quietly thrilled. She’d Jumped to some amazing places since joining the Child Retrieval program six years ago, but nothing as significant as this.

Although there were a hundred things that might go wrong on this journey, the very fact that they were making it was awe inspiring. Not only were they going to be part of one of the most famous events in history, they were going to save many of those who had been doomed. Not one or two, as they did on any average Jump, but maybe as many as sixty. More, if their ad-hoc investigations unearthed new possibilities.

By the time they reached Canute Street, the excitement had completely cancelled out the worry. The seeping light seemed to lift her higher with each passing moment. There were more people here too; shopkeepers preparing to open their stores, wagons loading produce to be delivered to the docks, and everywhere there were people moving in a steady tide toward the monumental outline on the horizon. Even in the pre-dawn light, Pia could identify the four smoke stacks of the titan. The buildings surrounding it seemed dwarfed beside it.

‘It is quite a sight,’ said a young man walking alongside her. She hadn’t even noticed him there. With a quick glance to see if there was someone else he was speaking to and then another to see if any of her companions would comment, she found herself obliged to reply.

‘Yes, it is.’ Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, wobbly and a little croaky. For not the first time she mentally kicked herself for her inconsequential comment. If this young man with his Italian accent was to be a fellow traveller, then this was a perfect opportunity to engage him. It was her job, after all, but where she could talk freely and easily to children, adults had always been problematic.

The issue was resolved when Julio turned to the man and gave him a nod. ‘You on board today?’

The stranger smiled brightly, and even in the pre-dawn light, his teeth shone white against his olive skin. It was a stunning smile and she felt her heart give an odd, little leap at the sight. What was this? She never found men attractive, other than in a purely aesthetic way. Any passion she once had in her youth had been numbed out of her by the Last Great Plague and the acquisition of a cloned body. This unusual attraction must just be the excitement of the journey finding a suitable outlet.

‘Sí, I am going to America. This time yesterday, I had no hope. Today the world is my oyster!’

It surprised her how willingly he shared his feelings with them.

‘A very big oyster,’ put in Jane, giving a welcoming smile to the young man. Pia noted the way Julio’s arm tightened ever so slightly around his mate’s waist.

‘A titanic oyster,’ the young man said with a laugh. He didn’t seem drawn to Jane, as most men were. She noted that Julio had picked this up too, because he relaxed a little.

‘Are you travelling today?’ he asked Pia, who was still walking at his side, her head lowered, watching everything out of the corner of her eye.

‘Yes… yes, we are. We’re going to New York. Some of us have family there.’ It was their cover story and it came easily to her lips. She was pleased to note her voice was a little less croaky this time.

‘Ah, sí, New York. But I have seen my share of cities. I am bound for the Wild West. I want to see the prairies where the blue sky goes on forever. I want to see the Indians and the cowboys. I want to drink whisky in a saloon with swinging doors.’

Despite her shyness, Pia laughed and looked at him properly. His enthusiasm was infectious. Although she knew that the true west was largely gone by 1912, it would be quite something to see those dusty towns, set against majestic scenery.

‘Most Indians are on reservations now, so I have read,’ she said, giving him another shy smile in answer to his own. Even in the semi-light, she could see his dark eyes assessing her, as if she were an amusing anomaly.

‘Then I will go to the reservations. I will go everywhere.’

‘You like to travel?’ she asked, shocked that she was actually interested in the answer and no longer just making conversation.

‘Sí, I am what you call a ‘rolling stone.’ I have been travelling Europe since I was fourteen. But, until now, I have not had the chance to go where my heart has led me…' His voice took on a faraway tone, as if for a moment he was somewhere else.

‘Are you a third class passenger like us?’ Bart asked, moving to the other side of the young man and somehow absorbing him into their group.

‘No, I am a waiter in the restaurant.’

Pia felt her heart drop in a most uncharacteristic way. There was suddenly a pain in the centre of her chest, as if an enemy had pierced her with a blade. Her breathing became erratic, and for a moment, she felt hot and dizzy. Panic, she realised with astonishment. She was having a panic attack. But such a thing was impossible! Clones never felt the level of emotion required for such a condition. What was happening to her?