The QE2 Is Missing

“There sure as hell is something down there, Lieutenant. Comes and goes, but it is big and it stays in the same place. Too solid for a ghost.”

“I’m taking her down,” Palmer said. “Strap in.”

The turbulence inside the clouds rocked the plane, sending sudden shudders through her frame. The two pilots looked out grimly at the ceaseless rain, while the altimeter unwound. Lower and lower.

“On course. Dead ahead, ten miles,” the radar operator called out.

They dropped. Down and down. When they finally burst out beneath the clouds it was as though a physical pressure had been relieved. The cloud base was a good three hundred feet above the ocean here, so the towering waves were well beneath them.

“There!” the copilot called out. “Saw it for a moment. A ship, just a glimpse. Big.”

“It could be her,” Palmer said, trying not to be too hopeful, yet at the same time clutching his hands tightly on the wheel. “We’re crossing her plotted course, the one the QE2 should have taken. She might have gotten this far…. “

They plunged through the sheets of rain, closer and closer, until they could see the vessel clearly.

The low bulk of a supertanker appeared before them, waves crashing across her bow and water running the immense length of her decks.

“I’m taking her back up,” the pilot said, suddenly weary. The others did not speak. The craft climbed steadily to cruising altitude and they went on in silence. The copilot logged the tanker, then worked on his fuel consumption figures. They flew another leg far out into the ocean, made a careful turn and searched another stretch of empty sea. The copilot checked his calculations twice before he spoke.

“When we finish this leg we better head for home,” he said. “We’ll be bucking headwinds on the way back and we’ll need the fuel reserve.”

“What could have happened to her?” the pilot asked, as they had been asking aloud for days now.

“God knows,” Corker said, rubbing at his red-rimmed eyes, “I certainly don’t.”

“There were heavy seas when she stopped reporting, but nothing that could have any effect on a ship as big as the QE2. And they had been in constant radio contact without reporting trouble of any kind.”

“On course, just a normal cruise….”

“Then… nothing. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Someone said maybe a sudden tidal wave.”

“No way, Corker. Nothing like that has been reported. No tidal waves, no underwater volcanoes, no collisions, plenty of other ships in the same area and none of them reported anything more dangerous than rain and heavy seas. Just nothing, that’s the damnable part of it. Okay, small ships without radios can get into trouble, even sink, without anyone knowing about it. But not a liner — not the biggest liner in the world. She has safety doors, multiple alarm systems, automatic sprinklers for fire, plenty of boats and launches. Sure she could be sunk — but the world would damn well know if she was hurt and going down. But not this, not a complete absence of news of any kind. It’s as though she had vanished from the face of the earth…. “

“Bermuda Triangle?” the copilot asked. The pilot just sniffed loudly and looked at him out of the corners of his eyes. Corker smiled. “I know. Just a lot of nonsense. Dreamed up by hacks who want to get rich writing about the mysteries of the seven seas. But nevertheless, Lieutenant, she appears to have vanished, at least vanished as far as anyone can tell. And we’ve certainly been looking hard enough…. “

“Got another blip,” the radar operator said. “Doesn’t look very big but it’s persistent. Something down there all right.”

“Another tanker probably,” the pilot said. “We’re over the north-south routes now. We’ll take a look.”

Once more they plunged down through the clouds and out beneath them. The rain had ceased here and they flew between two slate-gray masses, the sea below, the clouds above. A dark speck appeared on the surface of the ocean ahead and the pilot banked that way. The ship had been obscured by a line squall which blew suddenly away.

“Jesus… “ the pilot said, breathing out the word.

There, silent and unmoving on the heaving seas, was the QE2.

They came in low, just above mast height, roaring over the decks, then going back in a wide turn.

“All the boats… they’re gone,” the pilot said. “Not a lifeboat left. And no one aboard. I could look into the Bridge and there was no one there.”

His eyes met those of the copilot and he saw his own horrified image mirrored in the other’s face. He fumbled for the radio.

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