J
immy sought refuge in a lifeboat on the top deck where he and Claire had hidden out earlier. Through a small gap in the covers he was able to keep an eye on Ty Warner, who was patrolling relentlessly. It had clearly gone beyond a stolen T-shirt now. Next time they met there'd be no tears or lies or calling anyone a sucker. There would be extreme violence.
He was just beginning to nod off when he was roused by an announcement over the PA system:
'Could James Armstrong please report to the newspaper office.'
Oh sure. Like I'm going to fall for that one.
Ten minutes later it was made again: but this time it was Claire's voice. And she added, '
Really; it's fine.'
Oh yeah. Right. You're being forced to call me in. Blackmailed by your own dad.
He wondered what she'd sold him out for. A shopping trip in Miami? Another new pony?
'Would James Armstrong report to the newspaper office immediately . . .'
Not more than three seconds later the covers of the lifeboat were ripped back, and there was First Officer Jeffers glaring down at him.
She had given him up!
The little—
Jeffers grabbed him and hauled him out. He plonked him down on the deck. 'All right, Jimmy, let's go . . .'
Jimmy shuffled forward reluctantly. 'You never would have got me if she hadn't—'
'Just keep moving.'
As they walked towards the elevators Ty Warner stepped out of a doorway and followed along behind. 'He stole my T-shirt . . .' he started.
'He's done a lot of things,' said Jeffers.
'Want my T-shirt back.'
'Leave your name with Customer Services; I'll make sure you get it.'
'Want it now.'
'Well you can't have it now.'
Ty stood sullenly behind them while they waited for the elevator. When it arrived he waited until the doors started to close before stepping in after them. 'It's my favourite T-shirt.'
'What are you, six years old?' said Jimmy.
'Quiet, Jimmy!' said Jeffers.
'Is it like your blanky?'
'I said,
quiet.'
'What're you going to do, arrest me?'
Jeffers sighed.
'I want my shirt,' saidTy.
'I've told you. Report it to Customer Services, you'll get it—'
'I think you are gay,' said Jimmy.
'I said
quiet,
and I won't say it again!'
Jimmy shrugged.
'I want my—' Ty began.
'You too!' bellowed Jeffers.
Ty looked genuinely shocked. 'You can't talk to me like that!'
The elevator doors opened and Jeffers pushed Jimmy out in front of him. They were on the same floor as the newspaper office. 'Where are we going?' Jimmy asked.
'Just keep moving.'
'What about my T-shirt?' Ty asked.
Jeffers ignored him. As they progressed on down the corridor, Ty gradually fell behind. 'I'm going to tell my mom on you!' he shouted after them.
'You're a big girl's blouse!' Jimmy shouted back, and got a shove in the back for his trouble.
Jeffers stopped him outside the newspaper office. 'In here,' he said, and pushed the door open.
There she was — the betrayer. Claire sat on the edge of one of the desks; she looked sheepishly at him. There was no sign of the editor.
'Thanks a lot,' spat Jimmy. 'I hope your ponies die in a horrific traffic accident.'
'Jimmy . . .'
'I'm not talking to you.' He turned to Jeffers. 'So?'
'The new editor of the
Titanic Times
wanted a look at you. He's in the bathroom. Go in and see him.'
'Yeah,
right.'
Jimmy stood where he was.
'Jimmy, please . . .' said Claire.
'I told you, I'm not talking to you.'
Jimmy looked towards the bathroom. 'What's he doing, a poo?'
Ty was back, standing in the open doorway. 'I want my T-shirt.'
Jeffers rolled his eyes. 'Go
away,'
he said, and pushed the door shut. He turned back to Jimmy and nodded at the bathroom.
Jimmy tutted. 'Better than looking at you two.' He strode into the bathroom.
It was empty.
'Turn to your left,' Claire called.
'What?' There was only a mirror.
'You're looking at the new editor of the
Titanic Times!
Jimmy looked at his own reflection for a moment, then swiftly turned back out into the office. 'What the hell are you talking about?'
Jeffers was smiling. So was Claire. She clapped her hands together. 'Jimmy! We're serious! The new guy didn't get on in Miami! No one else knows how to put the paper together! The Captain says you have to do it until the end of the cruise or the end of the world, whichever comes first!'
Jimmy looked from one to the other. 'You've got to be joking!'
There was a knock on the door. 'I want my T-shirt!'
T
hey weren't joking.
Jeffers pulled out a chair for Jimmy to sit down. 'Guy called Travers was supposed to be doing this. He did actually get on board, but then he got right off again, said his parents were sick and couldn't leave them. So we're stuck. Fact is, Jimmy, the passengers go nuts if they don't get their fix of news in the morning, especially with what's going on at home. So we want you to do it. With Claire's help.'
Jimmy nodded at Claire. 'Was this your idea?'
Claire smiled again. 'I came down here and he . . .' she nodded at Jeffers,' . . . was trying to put a paper together, but he hadn't a clue.'
'It's harder than it looks,' agreed Jeffers.
'So I told him you were the only one who really knew how to do it.'
'It makes sense, Jimmy,' said Jeffers. 'I checked it with the Captain and he checked it with Mr Stanford, and they both agreed. It's yours if you want it, until the end of the cruise.'
Jimmy examined his fingernails. This was indeed a surprising turnaround in his fortunes. And, as his granda had often told him, it was important to make hay while the sun shone. 'So,' he said, 'how much do I get paid?'
Jeffers burst out laughing. 'What? You're lucky we don't toss you in the brig and throw the key away!'
Jimmy smiled indulgently. 'No, really. How much?'
'Jimmy . . .' said Claire, 'they're letting you—'
'I may be a stowaway, Claire, but I'm not a slave. I'll expect to be paid whatever whatshisname, Travers, was going to be paid.'
'You're only a kid!' Jeffers bellowed.
'Then stop exploiting me and pay me a fair wage!'
Jeffers put his hands on his hips. 'You, sir, have a brass neck.'
'Yeah, I know,' said Jimmy.
***
Jeffers told them he'd have to check with the Captain, but in the meantime could they
please
get started on the newspaper. Jeffers pulled his cap down hard, and was just leaving the office when Jimmy said, 'And Claire will have to be paid as well.' Jeffers took a deep breath and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
Claire immediately burst into laughter. 'You have such a nerve, Jimmy Armstrong.'
'It's
James,
when I'm working.'
***
So they got to work. It had already grown dark outside, on this the first day of the first proper cruise of the
Titanic.
They had to prepare a complete newspaper for the Captain's approval, then print up several thousand copies and, finally, organize its distribution to every single cabin on the ship.
It was a huge task.
The news from the outside world was not good. Hundreds of thousands, possibly
millions,
had been infected by the Red Death. Power supplies were failing. Food supplies weren't reaching supermarkets. Crops lay rotting in the fields. Those who weren't dying were sick, and those who weren't sick were starving and cold. Arguments led to fights, fights led to riots, riots led to murder and destruction. Cities were burning. It was happening
everywhere.
Nearly every rich country has a cache of supplies — food, water, medical equipment, fuel — with which to see through an emergency. When there is an earthquake or a flood these are quickly transported to the area in question. But now there were simply too many areas suffering for everyone to get essential supplies. And the suspicion grew that those that were available were being hoarded by the powerful and the rich, and that led to more rioting.
It was horrible out there.
They broke the news down according to the geographical origins of their passengers. Most were from the United States, but there were significant numbers from the United Kingdom, South America and Russia. Things weren't any better in those countries. Jimmy was pleased that there weren't any other passengers from Belfast. That meant he didn't have to look up what was happening at home. He just didn't want to know.
Claire stared gloomily at their front page when they eventually put it together. 'It has to end soon, doesn't it?'
'Has to.'
'They'll find a cure or it'll just stop by itself. Any other virus or plague has always ended
some
time. Otherwise we'd all have died thousands of years ago. The body finds ways to defend itself eventually, doesn't it? It's the survival of the fittest.'
Jimmy nodded grimly. 'I suppose. Except — I read this report that said it might have come out of some lab in California. That it might have been created by scientists and in that case — well, they say because it isn't a natural thing, but a thing that was created in a laboratory, we might not be able to defend ourselves against it.'
'Don't say that!'
'I'm not.
They
are.'
Their coverage of the Red Death continued from page one right through to page eight. Then they borrowed their profile of Jonas from the dummy edition to fill out another four pages. They still had four pages to fill. Jimmy walked across the office and opened the door. Ty Warner was still standing there.
'Give me my T-shirt,' he said.
Jimmy turned to Claire. 'Take his picture.'
'Why?'
'He can be our
Passenger of the Day.
It'll fill our empty space.'
Claire lifted her camera and moved into the doorway. 'Do you want to be our
Passenger of the Day?'
'No. I want my T-shirt back.'
Jimmy shook his head. 'You can be our
Whining Passenger of the Day.'
'I'm not
whining.
My mom says I'm tenacious. I'm like a dog with a bone. I'm not going away until I get it back.'
Jimmy was starting to get annoyed. 'Well I've nothing else to wear,' he snapped, 'so you can have it back when I'm finished with it. And by the way, I work for the ship now. And
her
dad owns it. Between us we can probably have you chucked over board, so shut up about your shirt and have your picture taken.'
Claire raised her camera.
'Does your dad really own the ship?'
Claire nodded. 'Smile.'
She took the picture. She took another.
'What're you doing in there anyway?'
'Running the ship newspaper. The
Titanic Times.'
'But you're only kids.'
'I know,' said Jimmy. 'Aren't we great?'
***
Ty took a look at the front page. 'What about New Jersey?' he asked.
'Same as everywhere.'
'We left three days ago, drove down. There were abandoned cars everywhere. Dad had extra gas hidden in the back.'
'Why didn't you just stay where you were?'
'My daddy said we paid thousands for this vacation, we weren't going to waste it because some people had the flu.'
'It's worse than flu,' said Claire.
'Maybe. Daddy says the papers always exaggerate, to sell more copies.'
'This
paper is free,' said Jimmy.
Ty shook his head. 'No it's not. You have to spend thousands of dollars coming on this cruise to get it. It's the most expensive paper in the world. Anyhow, Daddy says we're better off on a ship away from all the trouble. It'll all be over by the time we get home.'
They questioned him for their newly created
Passenger of the Day
piece. He told them his favourite movies and music and food. He told them about his dad working as a computer programmer and his mum as a nurse. He was an only child. His ambition was to be an astronaut.
'Don't you have to be smart for that?' Jimmy asked.
'I am smart.'
'Are you top of your class?'
'Yes I am.'
Jimmy typed this in. 'And how long have you known you were gay?' and then allowed his fingers to hover over the keyboard, ready to type some more.
Ty stiffened in his chair. 'What're you . . .?'
'Oh relax, would you?' Jimmy laughed. 'I'm only joking.'
Ty kept his eyes fixed on Jimmy. 'I want you to know, that my daddy sends me to karate twice a week. If I keep it up, I'll be the youngest black belt in New Jersey.'
Jimmy nodded, impressed, as he typed. 'And, in all seriousness, do you think that will make you somehow
less
gay?'
Ty erupted out of his chair. 'You . . .!'
Claire immediately stepped between them. 'Stop it, both of you!'
Ty looked amazed. '
I
haven't done anything! Tell
him
to stop calling me gay!'
'There's nothing wrong with being gay,' said Claire.
'But I'm not gay!'
'And we will make that clear in the article. The headline will be . . .' She looked at Jimmy for help.
'Ty Warner Is Definitely Not Gay!'
Ty looked from one to the other. 'You . . . you're both mad!' Then he spun on his heel and fled from the newspaper office.
'
After you,' said Jimmy.
'No, after
you . . .'
They were about to enter the bridge with the first copy of the first proper paper they had prepared for the passengers of the
Titanic.
They were exhausted, but happy with their efforts — the
Times
was stuffed full of news, the feature articles were interesting and the design and layout were eye-catching. It looked professional. It
was
professional. And, as Ty had said, they were just kids. They had every right to feel proud of themselves.
Claire went first, Jimmy followed. Captain Smith and First Officer Jeffers were talking to Dr Hill in hushed tones and they had to wait for the opportunity to hand over the paper. Eventually Jeffers noticed them, smiled and said, 'Here they are now. Well, all done?'
Jimmy said, 'What about payment?'
Jeffers glanced at the Captain. 'I told you . . .'
'First Officer Jeffers tells me you drive a hard bargain,' said Captain Smith.
'No, it was quite easy really.'
The Captain's eyes twinkled for a moment, then he clicked his fingers. 'Well, let's have a look.'
Jimmy handed him the paper, then winked at Claire. It was her cue. 'We'll have the printing finished in about an hour, but we're going to need help with the distribution. There's nearly two thousand copies to get out.'
'We're short-staffed as it is,' said Jeffers.
'That's what we were thinking. So we want permission to hire some kids to do it for us.'
'Pardon?'
Jimmy nodded beside her. 'Half a dozen kids, ten dollars each, and we'll have that paper through everyone's door in an hour.'
The Captain passed the newspaper to Dr Hill. 'What do you think, Doctor?'
As the doctor began to study it Jeffers said, 'This sounds like a money-making scheme.'
Jimmy folded his arms. 'It's a solution to a problem. If you don't get the paper to the passengers, what's the point in doing it?'
'And kids love earning money,' Claire pointed out. 'They'll do it five times faster than your people can because we'll select only those who're prepared to run everywhere.'
'It'll be like a club. They'll feel like part of the crew.'
'But they'll take their orders from us.'
They looked eagerly towards Captain Smith for approval. They had agreed that if they got the money, they'd pay half to the kids they recruited and keep the rest for themselves. It was important to make a profit. Captain Smith turned slightly to the side, and conferred quietly with Dr Hill. Then he turned back and nodded thoughtfully. 'We can certainly find the money to pay for the distribution,' he said, 'even if we have to dip into your father's wallet.' Claire smiled, slightly embarrassed. 'You've clearly put a lot of work into the paper, both of you. However . . .'
Captain Smith held up the
Times.
Then he tore it in two.
'. . . we won't be sending
this
out to anyone.'
'What're you doing?' Claire shrieked.
'We've been working on that all day!' cried Jimmy
Captain Smith sighed. 'I'm sure you have. But it's just not good enough. Our passengers are here to enjoy themselves. They want to leave their troubles behind. If they read this — good God, there's nothing but death and horror — they'll throw themselves over the side of the ship.'
'But that's what's happening out there!'
'I realize that, Jimmy, and certainly you shouldn't ignore it, but you need to make it more positive.'
'How? People are dying!'
'That's not my job!' the Captain erupted. 'I'm just telling you I'm not sending it out like this — it's like a sixteen-page suicide note. Put some good news in it, for goodness' sake. Put in some sports . . .'
'They've all been cancelled!'
'Then make something up! But sort it out!'
Claire's mouth dropped open a little. 'You can't talk to us like that!'
'Yes I can. When you agreed to edit this newspaper, when you accepted a wage for doing it, you became employees of this ship. So listen very carefully. We need a newspaper ready for tomorrow morning and I don't care if you have to stay up all night to make it. Now scram!'
***
It was raining outside. Torrential. But it was warm rain, like Jimmy had never felt before. With all the work on the paper and the horrors he was writing about Jimmy had almost forgotten where he was. In the Caribbean. He had never even been on holiday with his family — had never left Ireland before, in fact.
Claire said, 'I hate him.'
'I hate him too.'
'Who does he think he is, tearing our paper up like that?'
'I'd like to set his beard on fire. And stick a firework up his arse.'
They stared out into the rain. They were quiet for nearly a minute.
'But he is right,' said Jimmy.
'I know,' said Claire.
***
They returned to the office and set to work on a new version of the paper. They did not ignore the Red Death. In fact, it still remained the main story on the front page. Thousands had died, there was no escaping that fact. But when they looked at the Internet again, they saw that there were positive stories. Many people were still working. Plenty of cities were not experiencing riots. Scientists were predicting that it would burn itself out. The facts were all the same, they were just examined from a different perspective.
Claire and Jimmy worked for three solid hours, then ran off another copy of the paper and took it to the bridge. This time they entered with a little more trepidation. Captain Smith immediately examined their work, his eyes flitting up to them from time to time as he read each article. Finally he finished and handed the paper back to Jimmy.
'Much better,' he said. 'Start printing immediately.'
Then he turned away.
Jimmy and Claire exchanged glances.
'Is that it?' said Claire. 'He might have said thank you.'
First Officer Jeffers came up behind them. 'He has other things on his mind right now,' he said. 'At lunchtime today we had our first cases of this . . . Red Death . . . reported. Three of them. I've just informed the Captain that we now have thirty-two. Dr Hill believes there may be one hundred by tomorrow. In that case we will no longer be a cruise ship. We will be a plague ship.' Claire stared at him. Jimmy stared at him.
'He could still have said thank you,' said Claire.