Once again Phaeton borrowed the Chariot of the Sun, driving it dangerously dose to Earth....
On this chilly spring morning in the otherwise uneventful year 1910, the thin veils of Halley's Comet glowed across half the sky. Far off to one side was a flying mountain of dirt and ice larger than the city of London, yet invisible, at m immeasurable distance, through e en the most powerful telescopes. It boiled up there. A head of vapor and dust streamed out from the nucleus inevery direction, appearing as wide as a cricket ball held out at arm's length. It was almost bright enough to read by.
"It's beautiful," Helen said.
The comet."
"Yes, that too. But the ship. Your ship.
Planting a kiss on the back of her neck, he nudged her gently; and, taking the signal, she leaned back against him. He clasped both hands around her abdomen--swollen, now, with the promise of a child. His breathing quickened. As much as he loved designing and building ships--as much as he truly loved his work--here, bundled in his arms, was the actual center of his life.
At that moment, the center of his life was mildly worried about keeping him up too late. Surely he needed some sleep. By 6:00 A.M. her husband would be weaving his way through that modem-day Acropolis, a paint-smeared hat on his crown, grease on his boots, the pockets of his blue jacket stuffed with plans. She imagined him shouting directions over the persistent uproar of riveting tools, calling attention to the smallest details of his ship. And now, looking at the thing and knowing it to be the greatest of technology's achievements, her admiration for him went up a notch. All the more reason to see to it that he slept.
"Shouldn't we be leaving soon?" Helen said.
"Soon . . . soon . . . "
Directly overhead, a green star winked on and darted out of view behind the scaffolding. Then another. And another. Meteoritic ice lanced down from heaven--a backdrop for Titanic.
Three million rivets," said Thomas Andrews. "Three million rivets will go into her hull alone--twelve hundred tons of them."
A fantastic adventure."
Yes. We're putting four passenger elevators into her. Eight electric cargo cranes, a fifty-telephone switchboard, and the world's most modem kitchens equipped with electric freezers, ovens, and slicing, peeling, and mincing machines."
And you say she'll be unsinkable?"
Safer than a lifeboat. Yes, each ship its own lifeboat."
Something shuddered in the sky. The normally white cometary veils, swept back on a wind of reflected sunlight, were laced now with shimmering greens and blues. Helen craned her neck to kiss Thomas on the lips. She could see his face in the glow of the comet, pale, without detail.
More ice streaked down, more and more ice, scratching fire over Belfast.
Earth was deep in the tail of Halley.
Her Name, Titanic. Copyright © by Charles Pellegrino. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.