It was a dream. It was a nightmare.

The crew tried to keep us calm, but to board a ship in one world and emerge from the sea in another is impossible. When impossible things happen, people panic, we get scared, we cry, we scream. There were many who were near catatonic. But we had time to absorb it. We had nothing but time.

As a third-class passenger, with nothing to my name but two outfits and numerous bits and bobs in my suitcase, I suppose I had it easier. The first-class passengers, whom those around me and I had mocked for their absurd dress for what was to us a simple voyage, they lacked any understanding. Their world was one where they were cared for from morning to night, where their lives were mapped out years in advance. But no longer. The years were gone.

At first nothing happened. People were terrified and in awe of the towering glass and steel world at which we’d arrived. They reacted, they spoke to each other in hushed tones, in screams. We docked. I myself couldn’t help but stand at the edge of a deck, clenching the railing and leaning forward, staring at the city, at the people, so, so many people. The clothing. The cars. The other ships. Good lord, the other ships. The Titanic had left England a queen and arrived in New York a peasant.

Then word finally started to come around. The captain had been communicating with someone on the radio, someone in charge in the city. They were apparently as baffled as we were, but taking charge, as this was their world and they could only imagine what we were going through. They explained what procedures they would go through, explained that they would take care of us.

We watched as they set up large tents and tunnels made of sleek, shiny white sheets. Those who had most been able to stabilize their minds were off the ship first, I suppose. Many were reluctant, and I saw one husband and wife get close enough to see what was expected of us and then run back to the safety of their quarters.

The dazed, incredulous look in my eyes must have been the same in every other passenger. I just went along, feeling as if I were cattle, being herded. It easily could have been to my death, and I would not have been able to do anything about it. It wasn’t my world.

But the costumes the people wore had large glass shields so we could see their faces, and all the faces had gentle smiles. They spoke loudly so we could hear them, and yet their words were comforting.

“You’re safe. We’re sorry you’re scared. We’re here to help you.”

When it came my turn to enter a room, there were three others there, two men and a woman, in the strange shiny costumes. A small chair. Medical equipment. Little else.

It was one of the men who came over to me. “Hello there. I’m Doctor Jacob Augusta,” he spoke. “What’s your name?”

I stared. Looked to the others and then back to him. Swallowed hard. “Gerard…Hailey,” I managed. The other man wrote something down on paper. Was that a pen?

“Mr. Hailey, I’m pleased to meet you. As you might have guessed, these are precautions for diseases. You’re aware that your ship has come from another time?”

I slowly nodded. Blinked back sudden tears. Where had those come from? “Yes, yes, I…I came from England.”

He knew that. Of course he knew that. But he just smiled and nodded once. “There have been some diseases eradicated that you have never even heard of. So-”

“Vaccinations.”

“Yes, indeed. I’m afraid that even spreading them between both arms, you’ll be rather sore. Everyone will keep an eye on you in case of any reactions. But it will be a while until it will be safe for you to be out and about in the world again, so it’s best we get them all done now. These here are syringes. They’ve come quite a way in all this time.”

“What year is it?”

Dr. Augusta blinked. I could see that he had been told not to volunteer information, only answer questions. “It’s the year 2023. Can you tell me how that makes you feel?”

I averted my gaze. Tears came in earnest now. I had no family to miss, and no one who would miss me, at least. And to live to see this year would have been a dream before I’d boarded this ship. It was incredible. But it was terrifying. It was…

“Lost,” I finally said.

The doctor’s expression became soft. “I think that encompasses everything quite well.” He motioned to a tray to his left, with curious looking syringes lined up. “Shall we begin?”

I nodded and rolled up one of my sleeves.

Halfway through, when we changed arms, I looked to the two others in the room. “Who are you?”

“I’m Doctor Seymour Charmaine, this is Doctor Abagail Sutton.”

My eyebrows twitched at her. “You’re a doctor? Of-Of what?”

“I am. Psychiatry. Ten years of college gave me several pieces of paper that hang on my wall that say so,” she said with a smile. “Medicine of the mind has come an incredible way since your time.”

Staring in shock, words were lost to me. After a few moments, I found my voice. “Last month, suffragettes were smashing windows in the West End,” I stated. I met her eyes. “I suppose you can vote as well.”

Her smile widened at my dry, shaky tone. “For some time now, yes.”

“What else?”

“Sorry?”

“What else…changed?”

“Oh no, I can’t tackle that one,” she said with a grin. “That’s too big. You know that. And I just told you I’m a psychiatrist. There’s a reason I’m here.”

Grimacing, I nodded. I could only imagine the conversations they’d had in this room before I’d arrived. Likely there were three of them so they could tackle anyone who lost all control in a panic and tried to escape. I wondered if any of the older passengers had suffered heart problems at the shock of everything. “Who…Who is the reigning monarch in England?”

“Oh goodness,” she sighed. “Queen Elizabeth II was ninety-six years old when she passed just last year, leaving the throne to her son, King Charles III.”

“Elizabeth…the second…” I whispered. I watched as the next injection slid into my arm. It was almost painless, incredible, and so very strange. “Are those lightbulbs?” I asked, nodding toward the small lights on the ceiling.

“Sort of,” Doctor Sutton replied. “We did the best we could with lightbulbs, then found a way to make more light with less energy.”

“I see. I mean, I don’t, I-” Grinning, I shook my head and looked around. “And this room? What is it constructed out of?”

“Plastic sheeting. The material originally starts as petroleum.”

“Gosh,” I whispered. “That’s magnificent.”

“It’s a bit of a problem, in fact, and you’ll learn that quickly,” she sighed. “You see, it’s so convenient, we’ve used it everywhere. For everything. And it doesn’t decompose. The planet is inundated with it. Pollution is a huge issue.”

“Pollution? But the air is so clear,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Surely you’ve found ways to…”

“Humans have our limits. That’s always been true, and will always be true, no matter what year it is.”
My heart sunk a bit. Of course it was. This woman wasn’t only smart enough to be a doctor, but wise as well.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask. Endless possibilities. But I supposed the information would come in time and, no matter how steady I felt at the moment, I knew my mind could only handle so much before I would begin to lose my grip. It was tenuous as things were. So, I next went to what I knew. “I’m a carpenter,” I told her. “Can I still find work?”

“Oh, most definitely,” she replied. “But there will certainly be an allowance given to each passenger, probably for years. Finding a job is far down the list of things you need to concern yourself with.”

“Do most citizens have an allowance now?”

“No, this is a unique situation.” I noticed the last needle was done, and placed into a large container by the doctor, and so I rolled my sleeve back down.

“Hold on just a moment,” Doctor Augusta spoke. “I need to draw some blood. We’ll find out what kind of health you’re in.”

“All right,” I murmured. I watched as he did it, the sensation odd.

“It will be several weeks until you’re able to be relocated to your new home,” Doctor Sutton told me. “During that time, you’ll stay here. There is a large, isolated area set up. Food, clothes, and hygiene products will be provided to you. And you can interact and speak with everyone there. We’re bringing in games for the children, supplies for any babies, etcetera. And we’ll gradually give everyone an education on the years you’ve missed. You’ll have a daily appointment with a therapist, a doctor of the mind, to speak to who will help you adjust.”

“Not you?”

“Not enough hours in the day, even if it was all I did,” she told me. “But you’ll likely see me around. I’m assisting in the overall management of mental health services.”

“Mental health services…” I murmured to myself.

“We’re all done here,” Doctor Augusta told me. He pointed. “If you exit through there, you’ll be helped on your next steps.”

“Ah…thank you,” I said, slowly standing up. “You’ve all been very kind.”

“You’re quite welcome,” he replied.

I started toward the exit and then looked back to Doctor Sutton. “Football. Do people still play football?”

She grinned. “You can rest assured that you’ve got quite a lot to look forward to.”

—

Republished with permission from the author, karenvideoeditor. Image created using Stable Diffusion.