Collapse Depth

It contained a column of information about the day of the laundry fire in boyish yet earnest handwriting. Each entry was dated, Jabo could see, in a way that mimicked the log sheets. There were lots question marks. Book in Dryer?? Paper towels in dryer??? The document reflected Howard’s youth in a way that would have brought a smile to Jabo’s face, had Howard not been dead, and had he not been accused of sabotage.

Jabo turned to the Machinery Two logs, the last Howard had kept. These too were neat…extraordinarily neat. Each number was centered in its square, everything was legible, everything was perfect. Jabo turned it over to read the comments section.

These too were neat and squared away, the only unusual thing being perhaps the number of comments — Howard was clearly trying hard to be diligent. Jabo scanned the comments. Oxygen Generator #2 drifting to high voltage. Navigator Running on treadmill. Jabo did smile at that. He could review a year’s worth of Machinery Two logs and no one would ever have recorded who was working out on what. Howard was trying to take the most complete set of logs ever taken in Machinery Two.

Gurno appeared in front of him with a concerned look on his face.

“What could be wrong? We’re not getting any traffic at this speed. You guys should be napping.”

“You remember that Freon message you asked me about?” asked Gurno.

“Sure. I wanted you to pull it again for the captain. And for my investigation.”

“I can’t find it.”

“What do you mean?”

Gurno shrugged. “It’s not anywhere, not even on any of the hard drives. And I can’t find a printed copy anywhere. It’s like we never got it.”

“I don’t get it…I read it. I know we printed it out.”

“I know. I don’t know what to tell you sir. It’s fucked up.”

The captain hadn’t asked for it since the night of the casualty, it’s not like he was being hounded for it. But it did relate directly to what had befallen them…and they just shouldn’t be losing fucking messages like that.

“Alright. Go take another look.”

“Aye, aye sir,” said Gurno. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

• • •

Kincaid appeared to relieve him just as the fatigue was settling in solidly. Jabo was trying to think about the cryptic notes left behind by Howard, the missing message, and their position on the chart, how much time they’d made up during his watch. It was all jumbled together in his mind inside a thick weary fog.

“Duggan qualified EOOW while you were up here,” said Kincaid.

“Really? Man, that’s pretty fast.”

“Yep, I sat on his board. He’s smarter than he looks. Going back there to take the watch right now.”

“So Morrissey gets the watch off? Is he qualified OOD yet?” He ran through the watchbill in his mind, calculating how an additional watchstander in the wardroom might somehow add a few hours of sleep to his week.

“Not yet.”

“But if Morrissey gets his OOD board scheduled…”

“That’s right. Then it helps us,” said Kincaid. “So go down there and sign whatever’s left on his card.”

“Not right now,” said Jabo. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Kincaid stepped up to the conn and scanned the night orders. He scowled.

“What’s the matter?” asked Jabo.

“Why can’t we untag the fucking treadmill yet?”

Jabo laughed. “I think you’re the only one that still gives a shit.”

“Must be,” said Kincaid. “My own private gym. Boats gonna be full of fat fucks when we pull in.”

Jabo took lanyard heavy with keys from around his neck and handed it to Kincaid.

“I relieve you,” said Kincaid.

“I stand relieved,” said Jabo.

“This is Lieutenant Kincaid; I have the deck and the conn.”

The control room watchstanders acknowledged in turn.

• • •

Jabo intended on going directly to his rack; he dreaded even taking the time to undress. At his stateroom door, however, still bothered vaguely by the events of his last watch, he walked down the narrow passageway to the navigator’s stateroom.

He got to the stateroom and the sliding door was shut…odd.

He knocked, and knocked again. “Nav?’ He pulled the unlocked door open.