Titanic: Adventure Out of Time- Novelization

[F-14 Ace]

My latest writing project, a novelization of the classic 1996 point-and-click adventure game "Titanic: Adventure Out of Time", the game that launched my lifelong fascination with the RMS Titanic.  It centers around a disgraced former Secret Service agent who failed a mission aboard the Titanic, which had far-reaching consequences.  Thirty years later, they are given a second chance by unseen forces to go back in time and complete their mission.  Success could mean world peace, and failure could leave the 20th century as bloody as ever, or even worse. 


Chapter 1: Forever Locked in Regret

10:55 am, April 14, 1942, London

 I found myself running through a ship’s corridor as water flooded in from all around me. The lights flickered and dimmed, and I heard low rumbling sounds all around me as the sinking ship began to tear itself apart.

 This isn’t real! I told myself. I’ve already lived through this! I already escaped the Titanic!

 “You may have escaped the Titanic, Carlson, but you will never escape from me.” said a cold voice I didn’t recognize.

 A man appeared before me, wearing a German military uniform. He had short brown hair and a thin mustache, and spoke with a thick German accent.

 “Who are you?” I demanded.

 The man sneered at me, pointing a finger at me. “I am your failure, Carlson! I haunt every moment of your wretched life!”

  “Get away from me!” I shouted as I ran up a flight of stairs and onto the deck of the rapidly sinking ship.

 In the next instant, I found myself immersed in the icy waters of the North Atlantic. I struggled to stay afloat in the frigid water. I spotted an overturned lifeboat and frantically swam toward it as the stern of the Titanic disappeared beneath the waves. As I reached the overturned lifeboat, the German man appeared once more, standing on top of it and grinning down at me.

 “Poor fool! Not so quick, are you? ” he taunted me. “I’m afraid this is the end for you, my friend. How does it feel knowing that you are responsible for the suffering and deaths of countless millions? Hmm? I’m amazed you haven’t put yourself out of your misery already. Perhaps you should have just gone down with the ship!”

 As I tried to grab the lifeboat, he stomped on my fingers, causing me to scream out in pain.

 “Now you can die knowing that your failure was my victory.” The man crowed with glee.

 He placed his boot on my forehead and forced my head underwater. The next thing I knew, something had caught my foot and was dragging me downward. As I was rapidly pulled down into the sea, I realized that a cable was wrapped around my leg. I was being dragged down with the stern of the Titanic! I tried to pull myself free but it was no use. I was being dragged down into the depths of the sea. Corpses floated past me as I sank lower and lower into the crushing black depths of the North Atlantic. There were hundreds of them! Some of them I knew. Others, I did not. There was no escape. I would die along with them. Darkness closed in and engulfed me as I sank deeper and deeper into the abyss.

.

.

.

 I awoke to find myself lying in bed, relieved that it had only been a dream. With a sigh, I got up and got dressed to for the day. I frowned as I looked at a piece of stucco that had been jarred loose from the ceiling during the nightly air raids. By now I had grown so accustomed to the air raids that I usually just slept through them.

 

This building is falling apart. I thought to myself.

 

The run down, single room flat of 9 Stanley Crescent had definitely seen better days, much like myself. It had been my home ever since I was fired from the Secret Service nearly thirty years ago.

 

April 14th… I thought to myself, as painful memories came rushing back to me.

 I turned on the radio to listen to some music. I immediately heard a woman’s voice delivering a news broadcast instead.

 “And in today’s top stories, London has endured another night of German bombing. Most damage was concentrated in the east end.”

 

She went on to narrate all the terrible things happening in the world as the war raged on across the globe. I finally couldn’t listen any longer and turned the radio off.

 I made my way over to the fireplace where I had created a small shrine to the Titanic. A model of the ship was the centerpiece. On the left was a scrapbook I had put together. I took the scrapbook and turned to the first page, which depicted a newspaper headline.

 

“TITANIC SINKS! 1250 PERISH!”

 

Thirty years had passed since that fateful night. Thirty years since I had managed to scramble aboard collapsible lifeboat A after finding myself in the water. I had watched the magnificent ocean liner sink, and with it, my future. Ever since my failed mission and subsequent termination, I had struggled to get by, doing odd jobs here and there.

 I looked down at the copy of the book “Futility” by Morgan Roberts, sitting on the arm of my chair. I had been reading the book and though it was written in 1898, I was stunned by how the books’ events almost perfectly predicted the sinking of the Titanic. My makeshift bookmark was an old obituary from April 19th, 1912. Part of the text was visible sticking out from between the pages of the book.

 “Lord and Lady Lambeth have died in the Titanic disaster. The couple have been missing since the sinking and were not among the survivors rescued by the Carpathia.”

Why do I hold on to such things? I asked myself, placing the newspaper scrap back into the book.

 Georgia Lambeth, daughter of the Duke of Norwick, had been a former lover of mine. Though I had cared deeply for her, my duties with the Secret Service had forced me to cut all contact with her, much to my regret. Now she was gone, just yet another of my failures. Another life I failed to save.   

 Someone pounding on the door caught my attention, and I already knew who it was. Before I could say anything the door flew open and there stood my hideous hag of a landlady, Miss Belby, in all her horrid glory. With her ratty, faded grey hair, hooked nose, and several missing teeth, she certainly wasn’t a pleasing sight to see standing in one’s doorway.

 “Bout time you’re awake! You’re two weeks late with the rent!” she screeched at me.

 “I’m sorry, Miss Belby. I’ll get you the money.” I replied, though I knew it was an empty promise.

 “War or no war, a tenant in arrears is not a tenant I’ll put up with! You don’t pay by today, it’s the street! I promise!”

 

“Alright, I’ll get your money.” I calmly assured her once more, but she just scowled at me and threw my newspaper on the floor, along with what looked like an envelope.

 

“They said you was important! Not now!” she scowled at me with her soulless grey eyes.

“Now you’re just old! Old and broke!”

 

With that, she slammed the door, shaking the entire flat and jarring another piece of stucco loose from the ceiling.

 

“Hag!” I muttered as I went to retrieve my newspaper.

 I gazed at the headline. “NAZI BOMBERS HIT CITY. HEAVY DAMAGE IN DOCKLANDS.”

 

Accompanying the headline was a picture of the damage. I sighed, wondering if this was all just another consequence of my failure.

 I picked up the envelope that Miss Belby had thrown on the floor and I was surprised to find that it contained something round and heavy.

 

“I wonder what this could be?” I pondered, examining the envelope.

 “Frank Carlson, 9 Stanley Crescent, London, W11, England.”

 No return address.

 “Strange.” I whispered as I walked over to my desk to retrieve my letter opener.

 As I dug through one of the desk drawers, I saw a ticket to the airship Hindenburg. I briefly picked it up and examined it, frowning once more.

 I had worked as a private investigator from time to time, and the last job I was hired for involved tailing a wealthy woman’s husband as he traveled around Europe. He was scheduled to fly on the doomed airship, but cancelled his trip at the last minute, as did I. Though I was paid for my work, I never recovered the money I spent on the ticket, significantly reducing my profits from that job. 

 

As I continued to dig around in the drawer, I found an old letter. I picked it up and frowned as I read it.

 “10 August, 1914. His Majesty’s Government regrets to inform you that your services in the Office of the Secret Service are no longer needed. Termination to be effective immediately. With regrets, Commander T.S.D. Hipple.”

I tossed the letter back into the drawer, again asking myself why I kept such things. Finally I found my letter opener and opened my new envelope. I reached inside and was stunned as I retrieved an old gold pocket watch.

 “Impossible!” I uttered, staring at the gold watch.

 It had been gifted to me on the day I was accepted into the Secret Service. I opened the watch and a folded piece of paper fell onto my desk. I ignored it and stared at the rusty face of the watch, its hands stopped at 2:20 am, the exact time that the Titanic sank. It had been immersed in the water as I swam to collapsible A, and though I had always intended to repair it, I instead discarded it when the Service fired me.

Who could have mailed me this? Is this someone’s idea of a cruel prank? I thought as I stared at the broken watch. I heard Commander Hipple’s voice in my head.

“See here, this isn’t about your dedication! Pringle certainly attests to your loyalty. No, your dismissal stems from the Titanic mission. That failure can no longer be ignored, especially now. I am sorry, but someone must shoulder the blame. The Service, you understand. We can’t be held responsible.” 

 And shoulder the blame I did.  Failing my mission onboard the Titanic had far-reaching consequences, not only for myself, but for the entire civilized world. Wars, death, chaos… It was why the Service had fired me. Or perhaps they just needed a convenient scapegoat. Either way, I felt responsible. I tossed the watch onto the desk and picked up the piece of paper than had been folded inside of it. I unfolded it and saw words written on the paper.

 “The past, forever locked in regret. But what if the past could be changed?”

 “What is this nonsense?” I exclaimed out loud.

 My thoughts were interrupted as an air raid siren suddenly sounded outside. Though my first instinct was to run for shelter, I just sighed and hung my head. I had no more reason to run.

 This is the end, I suppose. I thought to myself as I heard aircraft engines overhead.

 The bomb must have exploded right outside my flat.  The wall exploded inward and I was thrown onto my back amidst the debris of my home. My whole body went numb and I saw flames engulfing the room around me. The building was beginning to crumble. I glanced over and saw my old watch lying beside me. But much to my surprise, the hands were moving once more. They were rapidly spinning counterclockwise. Then everything faded to black as I lost consciousness.

 Surrounded by darkness, I heard my own voice speaking to me.

"The past,  forever locked in regret. But what if the past could be changed?  Thirty years have come and gone since the night that saw the end of the world: my world. The Service needed someone on the Titanic. They chose me. I was to wait for a signal from my contact, so I remained in my cabin.  I left only once.  Georgia was on board.  And that's when it came. There'd be no second chance.  It was Sunday, April 14. Too late you see, for the Titanic. For me. What if I had met with my contact, preventing disaster?  What if the past could be changed? What then?"

To be continued...

[F-14 Ace]

Chapter 2: Welcome Aboard

   I felt a strange sense of déjà vu as I exited the Bureau's field office in Cherbourg, France.

   "These  are your orders, sir. Commander Hipple said you'll be doing most of the  legwork on this one." the clerk had said as he handed an envelope to  me.

   I must admit, I was rather excited at the prospect of having  my own assignment. My past two assignments had been rather boring and  involved tracking down art thieves who had stolen artwork from  government officials. I was surprised when the Secret Service had  ordered me to travel to Cherbourg immediately after the completion of my  last assignment in Paris.

   "I wonder what they have planned." I said to myself.

   As  I exited the field office, I opened the envelope that contained my  orders and found that it contained nothing but a ticket for a steam  ship.

"WHITE STAR LINE

ROYAL AND UNITED STATES STEAMERS.

RMS TITANIC

FIRST CLASS

CHERBOURG-TO-NEW TORK

CABIN C-73"

   As I stared at the name "Titanic", I felt a horrible sense of impending doom, though I didn't understand why.

   "Strange." I muttered.

   I knew I needed to hurry. It was almost evening and the ship would be departing soon.

A  short while later, as the sun began to set, I found myself at the White  Star Line ticket office, waiting in line with the other passengers  waiting to board the tender S.S. Nomadic. It was from here that I got my  first gimps of the Titanic. The brightly lit ocean liner was anchored  out in the harbor, its lights reflecting off the water like hundreds of  stars in the night sky.

   Once I was aboard the Nomadic, I made my  way to the top deck and leaned against the railing, staring at the  magnificent ship as we pulled alongside. I kept a low profile as per my  training and patiently waited my turn to board. I entered through the  D-Deck gangway doors and found myself standing inside the elegant First  Class Reception aboard the Titanic. Though I wanted to explore, I  decided it would be best if I proceeded directly to my stateroom.

"You have a job to do. you don't have time for sightseeing."  I told myself as I climbed the elegant Grand Staircase to C-Deck. I  found C-73 and went inside.

   The stateroom was fancier than I expected,  with rich wood paneling on the walls, blue carpet, a single bed, a sofa,  and a table with two chairs, as well as a sink and mirror and a vanity.  A steamer trunk sat in the corner of the room by the windows.  A knock on the door caught my attention.

   "I wonder who that could be." I said to myself.

   When I opened the door, a man dressed in a stewards outfit entered.

   "Good evening." He greeted me. "I am Smethells, your steward. I hope your accommodations are satisfactory."

   "They are, thank you." I replied.

   "Very  good." Smethells said. "We of the White Star Line hope that your stay  aboard Titanic is as relaxing as possible. If there is anything you  require, you can summon me by ringing the buzzer by the door."

   I nodded and then thought of something.

   "Is  it possible to have my meals brought to my cabin?" I inquired, knowing I  would have to remain in my cabin until I heard from my contact.

   Smethells gave me a curious look, but nodded. "That can be arranged, sir."

   "Very good." I said.

   "Will you be requiring anything else?" asked Smethells.

   "No thank you. That will be all." I replied.

   "One  more thing." Smethells said, offering me several folded pieces of  paper. "A map of the ship, courtesy of the White Star Line."

   "Thank you." I replied, taking the map.

   "Very well. Good night, and enjoy your voyage." Smethells said before exiting the stateroom.

   I  decided to have a look at my steamer trunk. As I opened it, I saw a  phonograph with a cylinder already loaded into it. Pulling open the  drawers, I saw spare sets of clothes, a cryptograph, and a yellow  envelope labeled "CONFIDENTIAL".

   I started the phonograph and Commander Hipple's voice played on the recording.

"His  Majesty's Government has assigned an agent of the Crown to rendezvous  with you on board the Titanic. Remain in your cabin until your contact  gives you further instructions. After the completion of all your  assignments on board, book passage to remain on the ship and return to  Southampton for your next assignment. For a more in-depth report of the  international situation in the spring of 1912, please review the white  paper included as part of this briefing. That is all."

   "That must be the paper." I thought to myself, glancing down at the yellow envelope.

   A  blast from the ship's whistle told me that the Titanic was preparing to  depart Cherbourg. I finally realized how exhausted I was from the long  train ride from Paris so I decided to turn in for the night.

   "I'll read the paper in the morning." I muttered as I prepared to get ready for bed.

   The  next morning, I changed into a French tuxedo which had been packed into  my steamer trunk, and busied myself with reading over the mission  report. Apparently there were concerns that the German Empire was on the  warpath. Obviously that had some relevance to my assignment.

   I  waited and waited for my contact, but they never came. For the next  three days, I remained in my cabin, either reviewing the mission report  or studying the map of the ship Smethells had given me.

   "Here I am  on the grandest, most luxurious ship in the world, and all I can do is  remain confined to my cabin." I muttered to myself on the morning of  April 14th as I finished my breakfast.

   Around noon, I heard  someone slip something under my door. Excitedly, I ran over and saw a  small piece of paper at the base of the door. Picking it up, I read the  note scrawled on the paper.

   "Meet me tonight on deck! Tell no one! -Georgia"

   I  was stunned as I stared at the note. Georgia, my old flame. When I  joined the Service, they had required that I cut all contact with  everyone I knew for at least a three year period. Though that period had  ended, I was dismayed to learn that Georgia had married Lord Charles  Lambeth, and so I had not sought to contact her.

   "How did she know  I was on board? She must have seen my name on the passenger list." I  mused. "I'll have to go and see her tonight."

   I wanted to see her,  but at the very thought, I suddenly felt the horrible sense of dread  and doom I had felt earlier. Somehow, I knew something horrible would  happen if I left.

I decided to listen to my gut.

   "I'll have to wait. My mission must come first." I said to myself.

   I couldn't help but wonder what was taking my contact so long.

   "Did they miss the boat? Did something go wrong? At this rate we'll be in New York before I start my mission!"

   I considered sending an encoded telegram to Home Office in London informing them of the situation, but decided against it.

   I  was growing impatient. I was weary of the mundane assignments I had  been given in the past. I wanted adventure, excitement, danger! Little  did I know, I was about to get what I wanted and much more.

   To be continued…

[F-14 Ace]

The completed story can be found here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13872919/1/Titanic-Adventure-Out-of-Time