Tancredi had always felt he would have survived the sinking of the Titanic without displacing a woman or child in a lifeboat. It was a matter of facing facts – there would have been time to build a raft and escape the stricken boat. Now he was on the deck of his own Titanic, and he had failed. Who was the fool now?

His instinct had warned him to escape immediately, yet he had faltered. Hadn’t he prided himself on being able to see what others couldn’t?

And now, for all his high-mindedness, he found himself in the same situation as everyone else. In these last moments, he felt an odd kinship with the pizza eaters. When it’s time to go, you all go down together.

The deck began to buckle, the air became thin. He looked at Tamany. In his idiocy he was responsible for leading a child to this fate. He struck at a window in impotent rage, cutting his hand. Blood began to pour from the wound.

‘Ship will destruct in three minutes.’

‘I can fit through,’ said a small voice.

Tancredi examined the child. It was impossible, but what other options were there? He was astonished by what happened next. Tamany jumped up and forced his head through the opening, followed by his trunk, then his legs, kicking as he went through.

‘Push the open button!’ Tancredi shrieked. ‘It must be there – find it!’

‘It’s not here, I can’t see …’ said a disembodied voice. ‘Maybe …’

The door swung open. Tancredi charged forwards, sweeping the child contortionist into his arms. The reassuring voice announced, ‘Ship will destruct in one minute – you are advised to make your way to an escape pod at your earliest convenience, thank you.’

Tancredi took the controls. A man of science, he understood how to operate the machine, including the emergency drive. Anything near the mother ship would be vaporised when she exploded. He fired the engine. Instantly a message flashed on the control panel: ‘Malfunction, insert pin to re-set system.’ Tancredi scanned the panel and saw a microscopic hole beside the words ‘Insert pin here’.

‘No! No! No!’ cried Tancredi, striking the panel, ‘Where on earth am I going… ’ He stopped mid-sentence.

There were seconds to go before oblivion. Now that death was certain, a strange euphoria washed over him. He closed his eyes and tilted back his head. However short, his adventure had been worth it. He would die a doer. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable. He’d prefer to stride towards death, rather than sit plaintively waiting for the axe to fall. He looked at his little friend and stretched out a hand – they’d face it together. Tamany showed no fear, he appeared to be thinking hard.

‘Ten seconds …’

Tamany plucked at his sleeve, eyes fixed on the panel. There was a silver flash in the air, then the sound of an engine humming as his precious pin hit the circuit in the spot specified.