Traversing Titanic

A soft breeze, the dense wood of the deck underneath me, the roaring rush of the ship cutting through the North Atlantic. I did it. I made it to my destination. April 14, 1912. The day the ship of dreams proved wrong the grand claims of its being unsinkable and, after hours of torment, found its final resting place at the bottom of the sea floor, ripped in two.

My organization had manipulated the hands of time for several major events thus far, coercing their outcomes into favorable ones, whatever means necessary. All missions had so far been successful. This was my first time personally traveling back to a moment in time, pioneering a new future. Captaining the ship of time while also attempting to literally steer this ship out of harm's way.

My eyes opened and there I stood, on the grand ship, people bustling about unaware of their impending fate. Their impending doom. Though it would never come if I were successful.

Time travel is fickle but not so much as the general masses are led to believe. We can interact with the things and people of other times without causing horrible disasters in the years to come. It isn't some fragile butterfly effect. Diverting Titanic from its demise would bring about some big changes, yes, but good changes.

The sun was bright, the air crisp. Music floated from somewhere inside and greeted me on the balcony. I had some time to spend on the ship in leisure, though it wouldn't be quite so relaxing as I knew what was coming and when. I spent it right where I began. I soaked up the last hours of peace the thousands around me would experience. Some would make it off of this ship with nothing but a burned memory of the outline of the sinking liner. Others would never make it off at all. They would join the ship in its cold, slow descent.

I must have stood on that deck for hours, waiting, perhaps trying to delay the inevitable. I would have to get going soon. The sinking couldn't be stopped if I didn't speak to the Captain with enough time to spare. But fate seemed to be playing right into our hands when the Captain approached me, leaning against the railing, hat sitting perfectly atop his head. "Captain Smith," I greeted him with a brief nod. "It's an honor."

He smiled that gracious but humble smile, nodding back at me. "Beautiful, isn't she?" His gaze is set on the sea before us. I respond with another nod. No denying the beauty or grace of the sea that would sooner than later be a graveyard for over a thousand souls. "But not to worry, I won't keep us all trapped out here for too long. We should arrive to America in record time."

My eyes turned to him. Captain E.J. Smith went down with his ship, as loyal captains do, leaving behind his wife and daughter. His wife died tragically, too, succumbing to a head injury after being struck by a taxi, nineteen years after the Titanic tragedy. Talk about misfortune. And his was just one story, of one family. It was difficult not to think of the other stories, the other possibilities, the things that might in fact change for the worse.

Charles Lightoller, Second Officer, would survive Titanic and go on to save even more lives during the Battle of Dunkirk. Who's to say that those lives would be saved if this liner didn't flounder this time around? Or what about the several changes made to Maritime Law for the better of sailing and ships? Would these changes come about naturally? All of these ideas were not what I was meant to be focusing on. The goal was to stop the sinking of the RMS Titanic, whatever the cost. No small effect would be more deadly than the proceeding of this massacre.

Besides, James Cameron would probably be the most affected, though he would have another enormous box office hit to fall back on when the movie based on the shipwreck never came to fruition.

"What's the rush?" I offered Captain Smith. "The grandest ship in the world is right where she should be. On the open ocean, plently of time to get where she needs to go, passengers occupied with luxury accomodations, spacious decks..." I gestured back to our view of the line where ocean met sky, the sun slowly beginning its set. "This scenery as their home for the next however-many magical days." My eyes involuntarily sheened with tears, and I blinked them back. Emotional attachment would normally be a hindrance, but, in this line of work, it didn't hurt to care about the people whom you were attempting to save from disaster. "Why rush beauty for the sake of a headline?"

We met gazes, his thoughtful, if not a bit confused. Was I, a lowly passenger, giving this renowned Captain advice on his voyage? Let alone, advice on the speed, a marvel set to grace the papers?

I continued when he stayed silent. "RMS Titanic being remembered and revered won't be an issue. She's already done all her work in that respect. Let the people spend time with each other, with the ocean, with her. Let them get to know her. Then, sir," I concluded, "you will get your headlines."

We shared one last look before I excused myself, wandering off and disappearing around a corner, confident that I had done all I could. As I did, I was slowly brought back to my conciousness in our own time. My vision remained dark as the process was completed, but I could hear the control center's dialogue, be it muffled.

"Crisis averted. Mission successful."

The Titanic lived on, only known now for its grace, its peace. Lives were changed and family and friends were reunited with their sailing loved ones, rather than losing them to the hands of time. The Captain heeded my warning, though other forces were likely at play alongside me, in order for him to avoid the catastrophe. I won't know what he went on to say or do in order to miss the iceberg. All I know is the Captain changed history that day.

They say a good captain goes down with the ship. But I say a good captain never lets the ship go down in the first place.