The Titan Drowns: Time Travel Romance - Nhys Glover (ebooks that read to you txt) 📗
- Author: Nhys Glover
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However, it was not the near miss with the other liner that had his hands shaking. It was the pretty young woman he had just spent the last couple of hours with.
At first, he hadn’t noticed his reaction. Standing on the dock looking up at the Titanic had been exciting enough. When he’d spotted the pregnant woman being pushed out of the way by an inconsiderate lout, he had simply reacted, reaching out to support her because he was near enough to do so. There had been an elevation of his pulse rate when her big, blue eyes turned up to him in gratitude, but that was understandable, given the situation. However, from that moment on he couldn’t tear himself away from her. It was like he had found something precious, the answer to a complex problem, and he needed to evaluate it, consider it and sit with it until he was sure of its ramifications.
And he told himself, initially at least, that it was just good fortune that he’d found a possible Target, even before they reached the liner. But he would be lying to himself if he continued to hold to that argument. Lizzie’s pregnancy had nothing to do with his interest in her. And the longer he was with her, the stronger the physical pull became. Until now, standing on the deck having only left her minutes ago, he felt bereft and his hands were shaking like he had the DTs.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him. There was no discernible cause for this physiological phenomenon. It wasn’t nerves. If it were, he would have experienced it when he first met her. It wasn’t a malady he had contracted because his immune system, like all citizens of New Atlantis, was in peak condition. It might be a side effect of the new clone he had taken on six months before, but that was unlikely. Most of the ‘running in’ issues had been overcome by this time.
He remembered talking to Jac when he first came back with Cara seven years ago. Jac had been concerned by similar symptoms, including a sex drive that was quite uncharacteristic. Now Karl was feeling the same kind of out-of-control arousal. This was something that wasn't just uncommon in his past clones, but had been unknown to him in his Original. He could count the number of times he’d been sexually aroused by a woman in his Original, and it had never happened in a clone.
Certainly, he'd been attracted to Faith Lincolnshire and felt close to her after all the years they’d worked together. It had been unsettling when she had fallen in love with the loud, rough soldier from 1942, but it hadn’t affected his heart. He hadn't been “heart-broken,” as they called it, when he lost the object of his affection.
No, he'd just regretted losing Faith from his life. They'd made a good team and he'd worked well with her. She'd always been able to determine his needs, even before he did himself. It had been difficult finding an assistant to replace her.
But this feeling he had for the terribly young and innocent Lizzie Jones was something quite different. She didn’t make him feel comfortable. Her effect was closer to discomfort, although it was too pleasurable to be true discomfort. It was more that she unsettled him and somehow made him feel emotions he'd long thought denied to him. Just as this mission had inspired deeper, more intense emotions from him, so did she. And they'd only just met. What would it be like after he grew to know her better?
He was glad she was pregnant. He'd memorised the names of every woman who had been rescued from second class and Lizzie had not been one of them. In fact, there'd been no mention of her in any of the eyewitness accounts of those last hours before the ship finally sank. That meant that she was a candidate for selection. Her pregnancy made her even more suitable. And though he wasn’t trained to identify the qualities of prospective Targets as Retrievers were, he did know from personal experience what it took to be able to adjust to their world. It felt like Lizzie might well have those qualities.
He was glad. The idea that she would be left to her fate when the Titanic sank in four days’ time was unthinkable. However, he'd have to convince her to come with him of course, and that might not be easy. He wasn't good at explaining this kind of thing. Let him loose on accelerated cellular regeneration and growth or DNA replication, and he could explain their intricacies until the cows came home or until the students grew bored. But not this. This required emotional sensitivity, and he'd never had the call for it before. In fact, according to his father, such sensitivities were a scientist’s greatest enemy.
There was a backup plan, of course, for if he discovered women who were possible Targets among the second class passengers. He could get a message to Cara and bring her in to talk to the women. It would be the best way. Then he could be assured Lizzie would agree. Cara had a way about her. She had, right from the start. A rare find, her presence had changed their world for the better in so many ways.
He remembered how terrified she'd been about going through her first transition. Calming her had been part of his job and he did that well. People told him he was a sturdy rock they could cling to. It pleased him to be seen that way. Now, his tranquillity had evaporated and he was adrift in an emotional storm he wondered if he’d survive. And at the very centre of his maelstrom was a fragile, young flower he had no idea how to care for.
When he looked into Lizzie’s eyes, he saw the shadows of her pain and terror, and yet on the surface she seemed so confident and self-assured. Her attitude to her pregnancy was very atypical of the age. He'd wanted to kick himself when he'd first made mention of it, thinking that she would be offended by a strange man speaking of such a delicate matter. However, she'd been remarkably blasé about it, in the way her grandchildren would be by the end of the century.
But of course, if she were Targeted, then there would be a child, but there would be no child of her child. Her offspring would be infertile from the moment it crossed the Time-Space Continuum.
It was an interesting phenomenon that a fertilised embryo could successfully cross over into their world unscathed and develop to full term, but the rest of the mother’s unfertilised eggs would die. He was glad that Lizzie would have at least this one opportunity to bear a child. It was a gift every woman in his world would have envied.
The ship had left the harbour now and was well out to sea. The engines had picked up and the wind was buffeting him hard on the unprotected Boat Deck. His bowler hat, which he still found annoying to wear, was in his cabin. And he wore none of the pomade in his hair that men of this era had such a fondness for. His hair was cut short, but not buzz cut as he was used to, and he had been forced to comb his forelock to the side. However, its slight curl made it difficult to train and it now fell in a familiar way across his forehead. He should have trimmed it; he knew, but it was hard to change habits of hundreds of years. Now that forelock blew about in the wild wind, stinging his eyes.
He turned to go inside. Just as he was about to do so, he saw a couple walking toward him. The woman was very pregnant, possibly close to full-term, but rather than holding her arm in a caring way, the man with her seemed to be dragging her along striding out angrily. If he kept that up, Karl could see that the woman would trip and fall.
With no conscious thought of action, he stepped into the path of the couple and reached out to steady the woman. She was breathing fast and there were tears in her eyes.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ the man demanded. He was in his mid-twenties with a rather old-fashioned handlebar moustache. His chin receded badly and his eyes bulged like those of a goldfish. His mousey brown hair was glued back with pomade that Karl could smell from where he stood on the windblown deck.
The woman, on the other hand, was quite pretty, even with the puffiness her pregnancy had brought to her face. Her hair was light brown and fashioned in the pompadour style that so many women of the era favoured. She was struggling to keep her broad-brimmed hat on her head.
‘Your wife was about to fall, sir. Had you not noticed?’
‘Don’t be absurd, of course she wasn’t. Gertie has become lazy of late and after our sedentary morning, she needed a stiff jaunt around the deck for her health’s sake.’
‘Not at this late stage in her confinement, sir. Unless you want to bring on her child early.’
‘What business is it of yours you impudent pup. Get out of our way. We still have a lap to complete.’
‘I am a physician, sir, and as such, your wife’s condition is my business. Let me take her down to luncheon and you can join her once you have taken your constitutional.’
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ the man muttered but released his wife. ‘You medical men think you have all the answers. My mother rode to hounds until she was ready to drop every one of her six children and she never lost one.’
‘That may well be as your mother might have been one of the rare breed with a strong constitution, but your wife appears to not be so well favoured. She is exhausted, and I would guess feeling every ache and pain right now, particularly in her feet.’
‘Well, do what you must. Take her inside. I should have paid heed to my mother. She told me Gertie would be a poor breeder.’
With that, he strode off, leaving Karl to hold up the young woman left behind.
‘I am sorry for his manner, sir, and appreciate your concern. He is just over-anxious about this voyage. He is not usually so harsh.’
‘I understand perfectly, my dear lady. Let me accompany you down to the dining salon on D Deck. I will introduce you to a young friend of mine who is, like yourself, in a delicate condition. She could do with someone to share her experiences with.’
He led her back along the deck until they reached their entrance to the lower levels, then he called up the lift to take them down to D Deck. He had already reserved a table for him and Lizzie without her knowledge, and he would now attempt to include Gertie and her husband on their same table.
Sure enough, just as the gong was sounded for luncheon, he was able to speak to the maître d’ and arrange for Gertie to join them.
At that moment, Lizzie came down the short corridor that led to her stateroom, and seeing him, smiled brightly. She hurried to his side.
‘Oh Karl, I was hoping I didn’t miss you for luncheon. It will be good to see a friendly face across from me. My roommate is proving to be anything but friendly.’
‘I am sorry to hear that. I have taken the opportunity to reserve a table for us together and have just included Mrs…?’
‘Howard,’ the woman provided.
‘Mrs Howard and her husband. I thought you two might have a deal in common.’
Lizzie smiled gently at the frazzled woman at his side. ‘Certainly, you are welcome to join us. You look quite done in. I am not looking forward to the later stages of my confinement as it seems exceedingly uncomfortable.’
‘It is. I cannot wait for this little one to be born. The doctors say I have another two weeks to go. I do hope
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