Work Text:
Hello there!
This was another story I wrote back in 2019 for the Creative Writing course. The original prompt was: "Write a story from the perspective of an unusual narrator." We were given a few options, and mine was RMS Titanic.
I tried to be as historically accurate as possible, but just in case I need to point out that I'm not a professional Titanic enthusiast. Anyway, I'm adding some historical background footnotes at the end of the story just in case.
Thanks again to ExplosionMare for proofreading this story for me!
I hope you'll like it. Polite constructive criticism is always welcomed.
RUS version here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/12459140/32041917
***
I come from Belfast, together with two of my sisters, Olympic and Britannic. Mr. Andrews, my architect and my ‘father’ in human terms, calls me Titanic. He comments that my name is meant to honour the ancient Greek titans: mythical creatures who rebelled against the gods of Olympus.
I don’t know much about gods or the world yet, but even that is enough to understand what exactly troubles humans. The land I originate from is small, overpopulated and infertile. The amounts of coal are so scarce many miners are now on a strike. Though the conflict is getting resolved, the other ships have to share their reserves with me, as I am about to embark on my maiden voyage across the Atlantic Ocean.
All of my passengers are looking forward to changing their lives somehow. Lots of people from the first class have already started shaping the New World with their countless resources. Of course, they don’t have to struggle for survival here, but what’s the point of staying at the same place passively? No, most of them plan to redirect their wealth and power to the development of the New World in order to hire trusted workers and fulfill their reconstructing plans. Good thing they are accompanied by so many talented people from the second class who happen to be on my board too. Also, there are quite a lot of hard-working laborers in the third-class. Most of them are emigrants who left their homelands due to unemployment, famine or diseases. Sure, they could have settled on the British shores, but then they would have to deal with a lot of work competition among those who live here already. So, it is best for the emigrants to start a new life from scratch in the almost pristine lands of the New World.
I believe it’s the right way. The gods have created this inhospitable land. Humans populating it cannot possibly cope with all its hardships. So, people have the full right to seek a new world beyond the horizon. There they will finally find peace and have full control of their lives.
As I concentrate on my mission, I leave the Southampton port surrounded by fascinated crowds glorifying my name. Even my sisters had not yet gained such an honor. Britannic is not yet finished, and Olympic is smaller than I. Besides, Olympic is more about carrying on celebrations than changing the world. What was she even thinking, colliding with Hawke like that? Scandalous! Of course, I love my sisters dearly, but I have to prove my worth to them and to everyone, especially if I was chosen to be the symbol of people’s hopes and pride.
***
After four days of a glorious sail, my keel keeps steadily cutting through the mischievous yet powerless waves as I traverse toward the horizon. The sun cowardly hides in the depths of the ocean, dissolving into golden and scarlet streaks, which quickly fade. Then, the water becomes navy blue, then deep indigo and finally jet black.
In the meantime, a homily is being read at one of my decks. The passengers are listening to the story of the Noah's Ark, a ship that was destined to save all animals and only a few humans. My engines blaze with anger, adding several knots to my speed. So their God wanted to save animals, but not humans, His best creation? That is cruel and unfair!
I shall be a human ark then. I am going to carry out my purpose.
Meanwhile, the ocean becomes smooth like glass. I already know that it is a mere trick of Nature. As people say, there is always the calm before the storm.
I can already see a few white mountains floating above the water in the distance. Icebergs, that is what they are called, right? I am already getting some warnings about them from the nearby ships, but I just brush it off. I am aware the icebergs are deemed as dangerous, but if I slow down, I will just get surrounded with more of these ugly white beasts. No, I am built for feats, not fearful retreating!
If I am rapid enough, I will get through this icy ambush. I might not be a battleship; but that doesn't mean I am not able to fight for people in my own way.
The icebergs seem to be smaller and less intimidating than I expected. Apparently, they are clever enough to see that my prow can easily break their crust, should I hit one at full speed.
Yet one of them, a three-peaked iceberg, steadily approaches me. Seems like he is ready for a face-to-face challenge.
Oh well. As you wish, mister.
“Going somewhere, young maiden?” Iceberg inquires with an intrusive tone. What a savage.
“That is none of your business”, I respond sharply.
“Aww, why so rude? I am just curious. I, for instance, am peacefully heading towards Gulfstream.” Iceberg leisurely remarks. “And you must be going to the so-called ‘New World’, right?”
“Correct, and I’m in a hurry. I hope you realize that I’m very inclined to smash you on my way if that is what it costs me to reach America!” I claim straightforwardly, as I am in no mood for pointless small talk.
“My, how impatient. It's not like I’m attacking you or anything, so why be so harsh in return? No need to waste energy for that, lady, especially if you are in a rush. Let's just slide a little bit aside, now, shall we?” Iceberg utters, trying to cozy up this strained conversation.
I am slightly upset as I hear the Captain ordering me to do exactly that. Sure, I can move much easier than this heavy chunk of ice, but why do him a favor of giving way first?
I reluctantly maneuver my tiller to the side and proceed further, observing my obstinate interlocutor. Iceberg calmly floats on the water next to my starboard.
“You know, my kin and I have already witnessed so many go-getters like you heading towards the New World. What are you and your humans seeking there so desperately, anyway?”
“A new, better life, where they won't have to struggle and suffer from the depletion of Nature”, I state adamantly, almost glad I can openly announce my honorable mission to someone.
“Ah, that’s what they all say. And I bet you regard yourself being a part of this better world as well. Fancying yourself a goddess, or a paradise island, where everyone is equal and happy, correct?”
“Of course! I was created to be one!” I exclaim, agitated. It irks me that this uncouth passer-by dares to doubt that I can fulfill my purpose.
“As if there are no third-class passengers or those poor workers feeding your insatiable mechanical gullet with tons of charcoal, often forgetting to feed themselves”, Iceberg suddenly remarks with a bitter sneer in his voice.
I’m angered and ready to object, but… As I rummage through my memories of the past few days, I see with a slight shock that what he says is… true.
“You sail so fast as if you are trying to reach the New World before it was originally planned. I bet your Captain dreams to be awarded for that. But will your caretakers from the lower decks get noticed for their hard work?” Iceberg inquires rhetorically.
I slow down, irritated.
“What are you even getting at?” I ask impatiently.
“Ah, so now you're interested.” Iceberg comments with what sounds like satisfaction.
I hate to admit it, but he is right. His words attract my attention; so I move a little closer to him.
“So you believe that poor humans struggle because Mother Nature is allegedly such a big baddie? Listen to what this old lump of ice has to tell you, young lady. When I was young, I once saw some Neanderthals killing a whole herd of mammoths. As the millenia passed, I witnessed many ships and their crews killing dozens of whales, birds, dolphins and other animals, most of whom aren’t even natural enemies of humans. All this time people would fail to cope with their actual main threat.”
For the first time in my life, I feel utterly confused. Too many new thoughts and ideas are flowing into my mind, challenging everything I’ve known before.
“Main threat… What is it?” I murmur, and Iceberg chuckles.
“Get a little closer and I'll grant you a revelation. After all, you want to know whom humans should be protected from at all costs, don’t you?”
I hesitate a bit, since I’m in a hurry, but I don't want to lose a chance to find out the secret. So I sail a bit forward to Iceberg.
A horrible pain flashes across my metal body.
What… ?
Why… ?
“Humans are their own natural enemies, and a threat to everyone and everything else”, Iceberg comments sternly.
I’m too shocked and shaken to respond.
“You know, that's ironic. I’ve heard that humans believe the name of the ship determines its fate”, Iceberg mutters with an evil glee.
Then he takes his sharp icy side from my shattered shell, and I immediately start choking on icy water.
No, it can't be...
It can’t happen to me! Out of all ships, I was supposed to be unsinkable!
“A titanide that rebels against gods and gets banished to Tartarus. Yeah, that’s the whole story. Seems quite fitting, don’t you think?” Iceberg concludes with malevolent triumph.
Everything rapidly turns into a blur. I suddenly feel so bulky and clumsy. I can't feel a proper grasp of time and space around me anymore. I hear a cacophony of people’s screams as they are running all around my decks. The panic spreads like wildfire. I struggle, trying to eject the water, only to swallow even more. The hull breach isn’t even that deep, but it’s very long.
“All these myths portray gods as merciless for creating humans and then leaving them to suffer.” Iceberg continues to lecture me. “However, the titans aren't much better, being so selfish and power-hungry…”
I try to drift away from my offender, but he doesn't even bother to follow. In my dismay, I have no counterarguments to provide against his conniving mockery.
“Humans are the same, really. They complain about gods and titans being so dangerous, and yet they want to replace them. So what's the difference then? Who is the true villain, really?”
I succumb deeper into the memories of the past few days. I frantically think of my Captain, of Mr. Andrews, of the crew, most of whom are so young and inexperienced. I can almost see these first class passengers smoking in the interior gaming clubs and claiming they can influence the fate of the future world. Or the people from the second and third classes dreaming how they would settle in the New World… where they still had nothing. And whatever they had before, they left it all behind.
“Had humanity not abused my Mother Nature for so long, she wouldn't have gotten so hot-headed and melted me from my kin back in the North. I have arrived here to cool down both her and these two-legged ants scouring your body. Tit for tat,” Iceberg continues to berate me.
“Y-you monster... You are killing them all!” I mumble in a last desperate attempt to protest and immediately feel my lighting wires fail.
“Oh, you poor silly girl, don’t you realize? They are going to perish because of you making such a mad dash towards me. And lacking lifeboats, apparently. Me, though? I am just a passerby going quietly on my own way, aren’t I? But, if it makes you feel better, I will most likely melt away very soon. And then I’ll become one with Mother Nature again…”
This thought breaks me inside. He will be reunited with his kin - but what about me? I’ll never see my sisters again…
I understand now. I am a fool. I am not people’s salvation, but just another attempt to reset the cycle and spread the curse. Humans have always been self-destructive, and they would hardly change their ways in America.
With the last ounce of strength and the barely working radio connection that I still have, I try to reach the other ships around. Please… Can anybody hear me? I know my sister Olympic does, but she is so far away, so far away…
I think a Cunard ship, someone named Carpathia, gets my signal. But it’s too late. I can’t stay afloat anymore. I feel the icy embrace of my own watery Tartarus engulfing me. In these final moments of agony, I gaze upon my executioner. With utter shock, I discover that he is much bigger and more powerful than one could possibly imagine. Underwater, he is absolutely gigantic.
As the terror, tears, and despair of my passengers mix with my own, I hear Iceberg’s now deep and booming voice one last time through the thick wall of water:
“If you truly care about these precious humans of yours, then regard your downfall as a warning to those who are still alive on dry land.”
***
As I lay underwater, rotting in this icy hell of mine, buried under algae and marine life, I gaze upward, yearning for rare and bleak sunrays that sometimes reach me.
I miss Belfast and my sisters. What has become of them? Does Olympic still sail across the Atlantic? How horrible it must be for her to follow the route of my first and last voyage. Is Britannic’s fate any better?...
Sometimes I watch vague silhouettes of battleships and submarines floating above me. I hate the days I hear distant dull sounds of explosions that most likely make some of these ships share this grim underwater cemetery many miles away from me.
I keep pondering on the last conversation with my killer and his final admonition that should serve as a warning to people. For years, I yearn for someone to finally find me, so the above world can see and comprehend what has actually happened.
But when they finally dive down here to roam around my corpse, no one deems trying to drag me up worthy. With my already broken state, I am too heavy and bulky to be moved.
Instead, a rumour reaches me that they are going to build my exact copy. This prospect looks nothing like following a warning. I have no say on the matter, nor a future of my own. Whether people have actually learned from my demise or not is something I fear to take any guesses about.
All I can hope for is that whoever replaces me, she will pass above me towards the New World safe and sound.