weeks, but people were dying there as well. Scientists were now saying that it was carried on the air, and that your life might depend on which way the wind blew.
The American President addressed the nation and assured them that a cure was on the way, which was quite close to what he had promised last time. Leaders of China and India and Great Britain had also placed their faith in the great abilities of scientists to develop a cure, a vaccine or a pill.
America remained the worst-affected country. Understandably, people were starting to panic. As workers fell ill, food supplies were becoming erratic. There were reports of riots and looting. The National Guard — at least those members well enough to report for duty — had been called on to the streets of several cities.
'This is horrible,' said Claire.
'And we're sailing right into it.'
The only good thing that could possibly be said about all this was that it focussed their minds away from Pedroza. Suddenly the fact that he might be trying to smuggle a few people across the Atlantic seemed unimportant.
Jimmy remembered Scoop's advice about noting where the passengers would be coming from, and to be sure to give them information about their home states — but not so much that they panicked. To this end they made sure to include good news stories too. People being cured of the virus. A beached whale being successfully towed back to sea. A hundred-year-old woman who'd just gained her pilot's licence. Plenty of sports results (while not dwelling on the fact that many football and baseball matches had been cancelled).
In the early afternoon Jimmy and Claire travelled down to the vast engine room to meet the Chief Engineer, a heavily-muscled Welsh man called Jonas Jones.
'Should we call you JJ?' Claire asked.
'No, Jonas Jones is my name. When I was growing up it was always "give me your pocket money, Jonas Jones; what are you looking at, Jonas Jones; do you want a thick ear, Jonas Jones?" I was a skinny little thing, see. That's why I have all these muscles now, I went out and growed them. Now when I go home, it's all "hello, Mr Jones; how are you, Mr Jones?" And I say, my name is Jonas Jones, and I'm right proud of it.'
Jimmy thought Jonas Jones was all right, only he rattled on a bit. It was clear that he loved his ship. He enthusiastically described his responsibilities — looking after the massive engines, the air conditioning, the heating, plumbing, refrigeration, ventilation, the water de-salinization systems, the electrics and every aspect of technical repair.
'You see, each propeller is driven by a double- wound three-phase synchronous motor with four-bladed bronze propellers. The motors are mounted directly on the propeller shaft inside the pod, arranged so that the centre propeller is . . .' He waved his arms across the vast engine room as he excitedly explained the
Titanic's
capabilities, but as he glanced back at the young reporters and saw their dumbfounded looks he hesitated and said, 'Do you follow?'
They both shook their heads.
'Once more,' said Jimmy, 'but this time in English.'
Jonas smiled. 'Well, this isn't only the most powerful
cruise
ship in the world, it's the most powerful ship. If only we had some big guns upstairs we could . . . Well, what I'm saying is . . .' and he smiled down at Claire, '. . . your daddy didn't waste any money here. We have the best of everything. Did I mention the fuel? We go through four thousand gallons an hour . . .'
He went on for ages. Jimmy was frankly worried that his article would end up reading more like an engineering manual than a chatty piece about the life of a chief engineer. When it came time to take the photos Jonas insisted on gathering his crew around him.
'We're a team,' he said. 'Can't do anything without my team.'
Claire posed them in half a dozen different ways, but it was difficult to take in the huge size of the engine room without making the engineers themselves look the size of
The American President addressed the nation and assured them that a cure was on the way, which was quite close to what he had promised last time. Leaders of China and India and Great Britain had also placed their faith in the great abilities of scientists to develop a cure, a vaccine or a pill.
America remained the worst-affected country. Understandably, people were starting to panic. As workers fell ill, food supplies were becoming erratic. There were reports of riots and looting. The National Guard — at least those members well enough to report for duty — had been called on to the streets of several cities.
'This is horrible,' said Claire.
'And we're sailing right into it.'
The only good thing that could possibly be said about all this was that it focussed their minds away from Pedroza. Suddenly the fact that he might be trying to smuggle a few people across the Atlantic seemed unimportant.
Jimmy remembered Scoop's advice about noting where the passengers would be coming from, and to be sure to give them information about their home states — but not so much that they panicked. To this end they made sure to include good news stories too. People being cured of the virus. A beached whale being successfully towed back to sea. A hundred-year-old woman who'd just gained her pilot's licence. Plenty of sports results (while not dwelling on the fact that many football and baseball matches had been cancelled).
In the early afternoon Jimmy and Claire travelled down to the vast engine room to meet the Chief Engineer, a heavily-muscled Welsh man called Jonas Jones.
'Should we call you JJ?' Claire asked.
'No, Jonas Jones is my name. When I was growing up it was always "give me your pocket money, Jonas Jones; what are you looking at, Jonas Jones; do you want a thick ear, Jonas Jones?" I was a skinny little thing, see. That's why I have all these muscles now, I went out and growed them. Now when I go home, it's all "hello, Mr Jones; how are you, Mr Jones?" And I say, my name is Jonas Jones, and I'm right proud of it.'
Jimmy thought Jonas Jones was all right, only he rattled on a bit. It was clear that he loved his ship. He enthusiastically described his responsibilities — looking after the massive engines, the air conditioning, the heating, plumbing, refrigeration, ventilation, the water de-salinization systems, the electrics and every aspect of technical repair.
'You see, each propeller is driven by a double- wound three-phase synchronous motor with four-bladed bronze propellers. The motors are mounted directly on the propeller shaft inside the pod, arranged so that the centre propeller is . . .' He waved his arms across the vast engine room as he excitedly explained the
Titanic's
capabilities, but as he glanced back at the young reporters and saw their dumbfounded looks he hesitated and said, 'Do you follow?'
They both shook their heads.
'Once more,' said Jimmy, 'but this time in English.'
Jonas smiled. 'Well, this isn't only the most powerful
cruise
ship in the world, it's the most powerful ship. If only we had some big guns upstairs we could . . . Well, what I'm saying is . . .' and he smiled down at Claire, '. . . your daddy didn't waste any money here. We have the best of everything. Did I mention the fuel? We go through four thousand gallons an hour . . .'
He went on for ages. Jimmy was frankly worried that his article would end up reading more like an engineering manual than a chatty piece about the life of a chief engineer. When it came time to take the photos Jonas insisted on gathering his crew around him.
'We're a team,' he said. 'Can't do anything without my team.'
Claire posed them in half a dozen different ways, but it was difficult to take in the huge size of the engine room without making the engineers themselves look the size of
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