Titanic 2012

old—but in this case, no one was alive to put up the least resistance. Even Bob Ballard had been sickened and greatly disappointed by their plans. On learning of Scorpio’s mission to Titanic, the old man was unable to put up a fight when even his beloved Woods Hole Institute fell in behind the project.

Ballard’s threat to get an injunction against Forbes—his one-time student—and all the backers of Scorpio’s mission never materialized. According to Kane, they all had Kane to thank for getting into a full-on PR battle with Ballard.

Still, as he made his way to the control room, Dr. Juris Forbes, Captain of Scorpio for the duration, wondered how history would portray their venture, and in particular how kind or unkind history would treat him personally. Then he wondered why it mattered; why it should matter to him.

Continuing his thoughts, Juris Forbes wondered if it would matter in the least to anyone, including himself, once he was a wealthy man thanks to his contractual share in the profits.

Still so much depended upon what precisely the expedition might or might not uncover; what they might ‘unearth’ from this watery tomb. Aside from all these considerations, there was the one prize in particular awaiting Forbes’ discovery, something beyond wealth and fame. A prize without measure. Of this much he was certain—that his reputation and fame would spread and eclipse all other deep water salvage captains. He envisioned a front page photo of himself a the helm of Scorpio. Not to mention the prizes that would be dredged up from within Titanic’s once glittering interiors.

He scaled the ladder and entered the control room and bridge to a wave of cheers honoring his horrible TV performance. He ignored it, waving and moving on when the officer on duty stopped him with a salute. Strict naval protocol was the order among his immediate crew.

“Sir, the NBC guy, Craig Powers, is wanting an initial interview and some footage of you at the helm, sir. He’s just the other side of the bridge, waiting patiently, sir.”

“Not now, Walker.” Disregarding his officer with an upraised hand, knowing the last person he wished to deal with at the moment was this TV anchor star, Powers, Juris Forbes preferred the solemnity of the chart room at the moment to doing a spot for MSNBC and 20/20. He knew it was part of the deal that Warren Kane had struck with NBC, but it must wait. For now, Juris pushed on to the chart room where he brought up a holographic map that incorporated data from the ship’s sonar, ship’s radar, Doppler weather radar from the NOAA all merged into a single coherent representation of a civilian application of the US Navy’s CAIC—combat/action information center. This map of the North Atlantic floated before Forbes’ eyes, reflected in his contact lenses, and always gave him a sense of wonder. In three dimensions, revolving at his touch, it displayed the weather overhead, the sea state, the sea floor, the ship within its present projected course, present trajectory, the distance to destination, when and where to stop in order to be hovering directly above Titanic and much more. It was one of many incredible tools aboard Scorpio.

He then indulged himself in switching on the data he had gathered that called on the hologram to display a fourth dimension—the dimension of time. The CIC-styled hologram indeed indicated all the conditions of April 14, 1912 at exactly the time and place where Titanic had slipped below the surface. Here was a model of a reversal of time using recorded data projected forward thanks to all the outside sources, one being the NOAA which housed and stored the answers at the Central Repository of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Agency.

Forbes began to study. After a moment, he clicked on an overhanging intercom and said, “Captain to bridge, Mr. Walker… we appear right on course and right on history.” He paused to chuckle. “Appears all systems are running smoothly. If you will, log it in, noting time.”

But his second-in-command, Stuart Walker was busy mugging for the NBC camera at the moment. He replied in exaggerated fashion, “Aye-aye, Captain Forbes, sir! I’ll make it so. Consider it done.” Walker stood at the wheel, posing for the cameraman and answering questions put to him in rapid-fire succession by none other than Craig Powers.

Forbes gritted his teeth on hearing some of this back-scatter noise; he wanted nothing to do with it for now, so he clicked off.

At the same instant, Juris Forbes did a double-take, thinking Walker or Pierce had entered the cramped chart room to await further orders, but when he turned, he didn’t find either of his trusted men. Instead, he found one of the divers, David Ingles, standing in shadow, his mouth agape at the incredible ‘historical’ hologram.

Ingles forthrightly saluted and introduced himself formally for the eyes and ears of officers close enough on the bridge to overhear them.

“Why’re you so worried and paranoid. We met in the galley, David. Everyone saw us there.”

“I don’t want anybody getting any wrong ideas about us… our relationship, I mean.”

“We’ve got a long way to go before we have a relationship!” she countered, her smile beaming.

But David was staring at the fascinating, floating map before them in the blue-lit room, unable to take his gaze from it.

“Yes, well, I understand from your Captain Swigart that you’re one of our best divers, Ingles. I’ve your file right here.” Forbes held up the stack of files Swigart had earlier placed in his care. “Swigart assures me you’ll do a first-rate job for us.”

“That’s kind of him, sir.” Ingles continued studying the floating map.

“Like myself, Swigart has the highest expectations for the mission,” continued Forbes, a wave of fatigue washing over him. He shook the weariness off.

“I just wanted to say I’m proud to be a part of the expedition, sir.” Ingles had stepped in close, examining every detail of the hologram. “Like looking back in time, isn’t it, sir?”

“No… not looking, Ingles; it is like being back there that very night, down to the wind currents. I can hear them. Can’t you?”

Ingles felt a shiver run through his body. “Indeed sir.” David felt a strange emotion fill him and he realized it was one shared by Forbes, an emotion that could only be described as wonderment.

“I’m sorry about your difficulty in the Sea of Japan, the loss of your friend there, Ingles.”

“He was a good man.”

“It’s terribly sad to lose a good man; imagine all the good men who went down with Titanic.”

“Yes, sir. We—the dive team that is, we’re all terribly excited to see Titanic from the inside, sir—but wow, look at her here. X marks the spot, eh, Captain?” David pointed to the icon within the hologram that marked their destination above the surface, a half ship in the throes of splitting apart, readying to slide below the surface and a second lying obliterated at the bottom. “Amazing technology. I’ve always been fascinated by such gadgets, sir. Sorry if I’m babbling.”

Forbes stopped in his study of the charts long enough to look Ingles over. He saw a powerful young man with piercing steel-grey eyes. “It’s excellent that you have such an interest.” On the one hand, Forbes would have liked to sit down with the diver and discuss their mutual fascination with Titanic, but on the other, he must be guarded.

Secretly, Forbes wondered why Ingles was here, snooping; he wondered if Ingles might be the spy, Warren Kane’s plant aboard Scorpio—his eyes and ears to report back to Kane as the expedition goes. He had no doubt someone aboard was being paid by Warren on the side to keep a close eye on their progress. Kane was all about power and control. Had he gotten to Ingles; everyone had his price, and Ingles here had had his last dive come apart at the seams.

“Forgive me, Mr. Ingles, but I have a great deal to do so that we can, as you sailors say, stay on course.”

Ingles half-smiled at this, realizing what the professor-turned-captain really meant was for him to ‘shove off’. He watched Captain Forbes turn back to the hologram.

“Sorry to’ve gotten in the way, sir; just wanted to say that if ever I’m needed, I spent six years as a navigator in the Navy myself….”

“That’s kind of you, David. I saw that in your record, and we’ll call on you should it become necessary, of course.”

“Yes, sir.” David lingered.

Forbes looked again at Ingles. “What is it, Mr. Ingles?”