Parallax Sojourn

By Larry Kennedy

These are stories from the past to the distant future, from a steamship to a starship.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524522834

Larry Kennedy

Larry was born and raised in Ohio, served in the United States Air Force, and now resides in West Virginia.

Book preview

THE FORGOTTEN LADY

Prelude

December 27, 1908

Daylight came slow to the cold, little harbor in the small town that sat upon the shore. The dark heavy sky grew somewhat brighter, but not by much, as the clouds completely covered the sky and obscured the sun. Large flakes of snow fell in heavy curtains from the clouds, adding to the blanket of white that already covered the town and landscape to a depth of several feet.

The snow enshrouded town would have been entirely unremarkable, save the very large building that sat snow-covered on the shore. The immense structure was now to and silent, and whitecapped waves broke over the slipway that protruded from the seaward side of the structure. The building was a construction dock owned by the Holcomb Corporation, namely Edgar Holcomb. He had made his fortune in gold mining and railroad stock, and turned to building new ships for the United States Navy. Three new battleships and a destroyer had gone down that now storm-beaten slipway. The Navy had been well pleased with Holcomb’s ships, and paid him handsomely for them.

The work crews had gone home when the last battleship was launched as there were at present no building contracts, and hence little work on the island, one of the Aleutian Chain of the Alaskan Islands. Some of the work crew stayed permanently to maintain the town and construction dock, and run Mr. Holcomb’s office town.

The town itself looked plain from sea, but closer inspection showed it to have surprisingly modern features; telegraph poles and cables and good roads, several rail lines running into town and to the construction building and a sturdy dock to receive ships and goods by sea. It was a hive of activity when ships were being built and almost a ghost-town between contracts if the contracts were more than a few months apart. Those who were permanent residents maintained the railroad bridges that connected the island to the mainland, as well as the buildings and equipment that comprised the Holcomb Corporation.

In a small, but beautiful house that sat back from a main road, a servant stoked up the fires in the living and dining rooms, while another began preparing breakfast. Both ladies had worked in the Holcomb home for over ten years, and found the somewhat shy Mr. Holcomb a very pleasant man, and an agreeable character in general. He was not given to fits of temper, and unlike many very wealthy people, he was not arrogant, and thought of himself as just a man, no better and no worse than anyone else. Needless to say he was greatly liked and admired by those who worked for and with him. The wealthy upper-class, however, regarded him as peculiar and beneath them for even contemplating drinking coffee with the sweaty, dirty-necked ship-builders and their children, and his wearing of denim trousers, flannel shirts and knee-high leather boots. He had money, but he was not high-society material. And Mr. Holcomb really could care less what the wealthy snobs thought of him.

Dim, gray light showed through a small gap in the heavy drapes of the upstairs bedroom. As the feeble light grew from black to heavy gray, Mr. Holcomb stirred in his sleep, the smell of the hickory fire and brewing coffee from the kitchen wafting into his nostrils. Beside him, his fiancée, Marie Hambly snuggled tighter to him in her sleep. Dreams were still passing before his mind’s dreaming eye, when one of the servants, Mrs. Jones, tapped gently on the door, and softly said, Breakfast will be ready shortly. Would you like me to bring two coffees?

Edgar opened one eye, not wanting to let the dream slip away. He yawned, then replied, Yes Mrs. Jones. Please.

He heard her soft footsteps recede down the hall, then down the stairs. He rubbed his eyes, then looked at the gap in the drapes, at the gray morning and the falling snow outside, while he reviewed what he had dreamt about. A smile touched his lips, and his eyes as he remembered the few details of his dream, and set the visions down in his mind. After he had his morning coffee, he would sketch the visions onto paper so he would not forget them. But first, he had better awake Marie for the coffee, when it arrived. He looked at her sleeping, peaceful face, and brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. My God, he thought, how beautiful she is! Ever so gently, he nudged her, and placed a hand on her well-rounded and full hip.

Marie? Marie, time for coffee.

Hmmm?

Coffee is coming up dear.

What time is it?

Edgar squinted at the clock on the wall. It has just gone seven o’clock. Mrs. Jones is right on schedule as usual.

Marie yawned and stretched, then wiped at her eyes. As wakefulness finally came, she sat up and fluffed her pillows to lean back on. Settling, she felt a little mischievous, and raised the blankets and quilt to show Edgar her full and bare tummy. He blushed and she giggled. Dropping the covers, she hugged him tight, an embrace that was returned in equal. I love you Edgar Holcomb. I can’t wait until February, until our wedding day!

Neither can I, my dear, replied Edgar. You’ve been my secretary for seven years, and my betrothed for over eighteen months. And yet, every day I grow more fond of you. I cannot wait to the day, that you are my wife!

Footsteps on the stairs, and the clatter of cups on a tray shortened the conversation. The door opened, and Mrs. Jones entered with the tray containing the cups and coffee pot. Miss Hambly! When will you ever learn to dress for bed? You’ll catch a bad chill sleeping that way in his part of the world.

Oh Mrs. Jones!, giggled Marie, I’m a thirty year old woman, and am quite warm enough under here!

Mrs. Jones tutted in good humor. Well, when you do get a cold, we’ll look after you.

She sat the tray on a table, and poured two cups of coffee. While she stirred them, she spoke, would you like breakfast up here, or in the dining room?

We’ll be down for breakfast, said Edgar.

Okay, we’ll be serving about seven-twenty.

What do you think about dreams, Mrs. Jones?

She looked at him, surprised. I’m not really too sure. Sometimes I think they are just that; dreams. At other times I think they can be inspired visions granted to us by God. It isn’t a matter I think about very much.

That’s alright, he said smiling, we’ll be down for breakfast shortly.

Mrs. Jones acknowledged him, and left, shutting the door behind her. As her footsteps faded, a puzzled Marie regarded Edgar. What was that all about? Did you have a nightmare or bad dream?

No, no my dear! he replied. I dreamed of something very grand, very beautiful. It was a ship, a passenger steamship.

But the company builds for the U.S. Navy.

True, he admitted, but think of it! Building a great civilian passenger ship.

What would it be like?

I’ll show you, he said, swinging his feet out of the bed. Let me get a pencil and a piece of paper, and I’ll sketch her for you. Would you like your cup while you wait?

Yes, please.

Edgar passed the cup to her, then found a pencil and piece of paper, and started sketching the object of his dream.

After breakfast, Mr. Holcomb sent the stableman, Mr. Burrows, on an errand to the homes of his advisor, Shelby Atkins and his foreman, James Fraser, asking them to come to see him at their earliest convenience within the next three days. As it was the holiday season, he did not expect them to drop everything and come running.

He retired to his library to sketch up ideas of his dream, and sharpen them up so he had more of an idea of what he was proposing. He hated getting into a discussion when he did not have his thoughts ordered.

Marie had gone to visit a friend for the day, so he sketched and scribbled notations on the papers before him, only interrupted by Mrs. Jones bringing him coffee and a light lunch.

He was immersed in thoughts and figures, when a knock came at his library door. He looked at his desk clock and discovered it was four-seventeen; he had been figuring since early morning. Yes, who’s there?

It’s me, sir, replied a burly, bearded man who opened and entered the library door. It was James Fraser, followed by a grey-haired gentleman, Shelby Atkins. I ran into this rogue on my way here, and I fear he followed me, stated James in mischievous humor.

Now see here!, retorted Atkins, it was the other way around! This no-good scoundrel followed me to your door! He cast a humorous glare at the foreman.

Edgar laughed as he studied the mis-matched pair through his reading glasses. Welcome gentlemen! I didn’t expect either of you this soon, or together!

Can’t keep a good man awaiting, said James.

Certainly not, agreed Atkins. What’s happening? Has the Navy sent us a new contract to thrash out?

No gentlemen, nothing of the sort. Would you both humor me, and listen to a proposal?

Sure, replied Atkins, speaking for both men.

Thank you, said Edgar, ringing a bell for Mrs. Jones. Make yourselves comfortable, while I order up some cocoa, and help yourselves to cigars.

Mrs. Jones appeared at the door. Yes, sir?

Could you prepare and deliver a pot of cocoa, please? Then send my request to Mrs. Harris that there will be two extra for evening meal?

At once Mr. Holcomb, said Mrs. Jones, as she turned and left to carry out her instructions.

Edgar stood and looked at the two men before him, What would you both say to a change of projects? One that would fascinate the world, and astound the general public?

You’re not thinking of going to the moon again are you boss? asked James.

No, replied Edgar, but something almost as grand; a passenger liner of the likes the world has never seen! A large ocean liner to capture the imagination of the people, a ship of greater proportion than the LUSITANIA and MAURETANIA! Something that America has made to compete with the European shipping companies!

Atkins whistled before commenting. That would be a tall order, sir. Our experience is chiefly with Navy ships of the twenty-thousand ton range. And there were many engineering difficulties to overcome with the LUSITANIA. I don’t doubt that we could build a civilian ship, but we would have to do our homework to get such a project right.

Aye, agreed James, the modern ocean liners are getting to be very large beasties. We would really be on new ground to build something the size of the LUSITANIA."

Edgar thought for a moment, before speaking. What would you say, if I said we weren’t going to build something of the scale of LUSITANIA, but something much larger?

James and Shelby looked at each other before Atkins said, I’d say you better show us what you have in mind, Mr. Holcomb. I take it from your expression that you have something fairly outlandish in mind. We can’t give you any educated opinions without seeing what it is that you are proposing.

Edgar smiled, as he bent down and put the pages of sketches and figures into order, before handing them to his advisor and foreman.

The two men studied the ideas and sketches with mixed awe and uncertainty reflected on their faces. Mrs. Jones delivered the cocoa and departed. An hour passed while the advisor and foreman conferred in low voices and studied the pages. Edgar stared into the fire, letting his thoughts drift. Finally, Shelby put the figures down, and lit another cigar, while James lit his pipe.

Well? asked Edgar gently.

Shelby collected his thoughts. Then, catching a slight nod from James, spoke, You realize we would have to alter the gantries and tackle in the dock?

Holcomb nodded.

Very well, sir, continued Shelby, What you propose is a very large challenge indeed. Nobody has ever built, nor contemplated a ship of this scale. There will be many problems to overcome, the refitting of the construction dock being foremost. Engineering a keel and structure strong enough will be another major hurdle in making this proposal a reality. We will have to design and supply those designs to the companies that build our boilers, hull plates and structural girders, as well as the engine parts; standard components would be thoroughly inadequate for your idea. We will be completely working from scratch.

And, added James, me and my construction crew will be doing things we’ve never done. Making your ocean liner will be much slower work than building battleships. Very little of our construction techniques will be the same. Would you be prepared to accept a three to four year program for building and outfitting such a ship?

Yes, said Holcomb immediately. I know it will take some time to build her."

Well, said Shelby, that leaves one question.

Which is? asked Holcomb.

When do we start, sir?

Holcomb stared at the men, unbelieving. He had thought he would have a harder time convincing them. He was not prepared for their agreement so soon. Before he could answer, Marie entered, aglow from the cold. She looked at the three men and smiled. Who got the canary?

James laughed. We did ma’am! We’re going to build a new ship!

~

1

1909: February 18

The immense construction facility was slowly coming back to life. People and equipment came and went, while the gantry-work took new shape. Steam locomotives hauled materials in and out, and Shelby Atkins purchased four more of them with Mr. Holcomb’s permission, from Seattle.

Atkins had sent letters and telegraphs to the regular workers, and many of them had already arrived, and started sorting the needed railtracks in the facility, and adding new ones to accommodate the proposed project.

He had also sent telegraphs to the companies that built the components for the Holcomb Corporation. The propeller shafts were going to be made in sections in Pittsburgh, then hauled cross-country by train. The steel firm had jumped at the contract.

A company in Seattle had accepted the contract to construct the pieces that would become the ship’s giant boilers. A work crew had already been guaranteed to come with the parts, to ensure they were assembled properly.

Yet, there were still many components to get