Part 5 (1/2)
I'd debated all morning whether or not to bring it, finally deciding it was far more accurate than my sometimes-spotty memory.
The noise level in the room exploded when Harlan entered and now began to subside, the reporters eager for their story. Harlan bent down to the forest of microphones.
”Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I want to thank all of you for coming. Rather than make a statement now, I am going to reserve my personal remarks for the christening ceremony. I will, however, entertain your questions.”
A swarthy reporter with a mustache raised his hand.
Harlan pointed to the man. ”Yes, sir.”
The man stood and consulted a PDA held in his pudgy hands.
”Pierre Emile, La Monde. Mr. Astor, the people of my country would like to know...why it is you have done this?”
Harlan turned toward me, our eyes making contact. He nodded knowingly, as if to say, ”I see what you mean.”
”You get right to the point, don't you?” Harlan said to the reporter.
The room erupted into laughter.
The conference lasted for half an hour, adjourning when Trina received word that Kate Winslet's limousine had arrived. Harlan led the way out of the room and the reporters followed. I caught up with him when he neared the entrance. ”You enjoy your little surprise last night?” he asked, feigning a nonchalance I knew he didn't feel.
”I'm not telling. And where the h.e.l.l did you get that champagne, anyway?”
He shot me a conspiratorial wink and said, ”Moet et Chandon have kept a case from every vintage year since 1895. I bought the one from 1912. We're using one of the bottles for the christening.”
I had to laugh. It was a typical Harlan Astor touch. G.o.d only knew how much money he'd parted with to persuade that prestigious winery to part with that year's case.
Outside the building, I was startled to see the entire street fronting the black hangar now completely filled with spectators.
Several helicopters circled overhead, cameras mounted to their noses, their blades chopping through the air with the usual whock-whock sound.
When the crowd spotted Harlan, they cheered en ma.s.se, a happy, l.u.s.ty sound of those who'd completed a job well done. No doubt they'd also heard my friend had paid his bill in full.
We started down the wide steps and the crowd parted in front of us, like a scene from an old Cecil B. DeMille epic. Voices yelled endearments, and hands reached out to Harlan, seeming to caress him when he pa.s.sed. I realized then I'd misjudged these people. He'd seduced them with his dream, as surely as he'd seduced me.
Farther down the road, we met Kate Winslet's limousine, the chauffeur and bodyguards keeping the crowd at bay with baleful glares and intimidating size. One of the bodyguards opened the rear door and the winsome actress alighted, the sun striking her strawberry-blonde locks, making them glow as if aflame. She caught sight of Harlan and threw her arms around him. The crowd cheered again.
”Harlan, love, you look absolutely smas.h.i.+ng,” she said.
”So do you, Kate,” he replied.
She laughed, her blue eyes sparkling.
”And you're a bleeding liar. I'm as fat as a dray horse.”
At Harlan's request, she'd dressed for the occasion in a replica of the purple and white boarding dress from the film, the wide purple hat perfectly accenting the lines of her face. And while she was now a mature woman of thirty-seven, she was far from fat.
Harlan turned and said, ”Kate, I'd like you to meet my friend, Trevor Hughes.”
Her eyes widened. ”Good Lord, the mystery writer?”
I felt myself blush.
”Guilty as charged,” I replied, taking her proffered hand. Her skin felt cool and silken.
”I b.l.o.o.d.y love your books! I've read every one.”
To say I was flattered would do a disservice to her compliment. I was, as the cliche goes, speechless.
”We'd better get this show on the road,” Harlan said, breaking the spell. ”Kate has a plane to catch.”
Moving again, we stepped onto the concrete jetty and made our way to the reviewing stand. The crowd pushed forward, wanting to follow, but were held back by a cordon of armed police.
The reviewing stand, while large and accommodating to the dozens of dignitaries crowded onto it, nevertheless looked insignificant compared to the hangar, like a wart on a giant. Guards on the platform ushered all of us to one side, allowing the crowd and the cameras to get an unimpeded view of Harlan and Kate Winslet. I saw my friend now had a microphone in his hand, and when he spoke, his voice boomed out of the two speaker towers on either side of the platform.
”One hundred years ago, when my ancestor, John Jacob Astor IV set sail aboard the original t.i.tanic, he had no idea what fate had in store for him and the 2200 others on board. They were of an age when nature and fate were presumed to be forces subservient to Man, and they learned of their folly in the most horrific of ways. And yet, my ancestor, and the others who died aboard that grand vessel, showed the world that the Spirit of Man was greater than all his works combined, and their sacrifice was the greatest of all legacies to come out of that harrowing moment in time.
”Now, we are at the dawn of a new age, an age that frightens many with its rapid changes and dizzying complexities, an age where once again we must demonstrate to the world that the Spirit of Man will not be daunted.
”Many have questioned my sanity. Many have questioned why I have spent such a vast fortune rebuilding this, the greatest and most tragic of all s.h.i.+ps. I say to all those who would condemn me that they are a part of why our culture is poised on the brink of moral bankruptcy. And I say to you now that I have done this to honor those who died on her a century ago and to offer the world a new symbol of our spiritual rebirth....
”Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the spirit of a new age.... Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...t.i.tANIC!”
A rumbling began under our feet, and at first I feared an earthquake. Then I realized the hangar was moving, sliding back on its bed of rails. A hush fell upon the crowd and thousands of eyes watched the great black ma.s.s move back farther and farther, picking up momentum.
The gantry appeared, foot after foot of crisscrossed steel girders. Suddenly, the hangar's leading edge pa.s.sed the reviewing stand and the bow of the s.h.i.+p stood revealed. Seconds later, I saw the word ”t.i.tANIC” spelled out in giant twelve-inch yellow letters.
The crowd roared.
I moved back against the railing of the reviewing stand and looked up, craning my neck. The first funnel appeared, black smoke belching from it.
Someone had fired the boilers. A minute later, the second funnel emerged...then the third, and finally the fourth. They looked like giant guardsmen marching in perfect single file. Five minutes later, the entire s.h.i.+p stood revealed in the late morning sun, its fresh paint gleaming.
Before the t.i.tanic could be launched, the hangar sh.e.l.l had to be removed. When the hangar stopped moving, two Sikorsky skycranes moved into position, hooked up their cables and flew off toward another part of the yard, the hangar sh.e.l.l suspended between them. In any other situation, the sight would have been awesome. As it was, it could not compete with the magnificence that was the new t.i.tanic.
With the sounds of the Sikorskys fading in the distance, Harlan helped Kate up the steps on the scaffolding leading to the bow. I had to hand it to her, she carried it off like the trouper she was, climbing up those rickety-looking steel steps with aplomb in that tight, confining dress.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder just then, and I turned to find Trina at my side. She handed me a bottle of the 1912 Dom Perignon sheathed in a plastic mesh to prevent injury from flying gla.s.s.
”Mr. Astor requests you join him for the christening.”
”Me?”
I suddenly felt as if the world's eyes were on me. In fact, they were.
She nodded and disappeared into the crowd of dignitaries. Swallowing my stage fright, I gripped the bottle, holding it like a wide receiver running for the goal line, and moved toward the steel steps. I have to admit to a mild fear of heights. They make my knees feel as if they're going to buckle. So, I kept my eyes on Harlan and Kate while I climbed.