The QE2 Is Missing

Commodore Frith suddenly discovered that he had nothing to say and merely nodded at the officer. He felt choked by conflicting emotions; immensely relieved to have the QE2 recovered intact, still puzzled over the mystery of her appearance — and burning with anger over the entire affair. That this should have happened to a Cunard ship, and the Queen of all of them. While underneath everything he felt a dense knot of fear over the survival of her passengers and crew. Two thousand six hundred people do not vanish into thin air. Unless, horror of unspoken, unthinkable horrors. They were dead. The ocean had acted as a mass grave many times before.

These thoughts tore at him as he rapidly paced the length of the sports deck, the lieutenant trailing after him, then up to the bridge. There were a number of American Navy officers and ratings there who turned as he came in. A gray-haired officer, of his own height and build, came towards him, his hand extended.

“Glad that you are here, Commodore. I’m Admiral Mydland in charge of this operation.”

“My pleasure, Admiral. Thank you for all that you and the Navy have done. Can you give me a report of the situation as you found it?”

“Of course. Let’s go over here. I’ve sent for some coffee. Why don’t you sit in the Captain’s chair….”

“It is not mine to occupy,” the Commodore said stiffly. This awkward moment was glossed over by the arrival of the coffee. The Admiral poured out two cups.

“Let me tell you exactly what we found, then you can make an inspection of the ship,” he said. “The main engines were shut down but the standby was running to generate the electricity. All instruments on the bridge were functional. The radios are operational. There are no entries in the log or course-markings on the chart since the time of the last radio contact, four days ago. These are what you might call the normal aspects of the ship____”

“Other than the fact that there was no one aboard?”

“Yes, besides that. But we did find that all of the lifeboats and launches are gone and there are signs of a rapid abandonment of the ship.”

“What sort of evidence?”

“Lifejacket lockers open and the jackets missing. Things strewn about the passenger cabins, suitcases left open, things like that. And the cabin lifejackets all seem to be missing as well. Then there are some inexplicable things, and others a little out of the ordinary.”

“What sort of things, Admiral?”

“Circular burned areas on the carpets — on every one of the passenger decks. As though there had been intense localized fires on these spots.”

“You aren’t going to start talking about flying saucers now, are you? They are always leaving mysterious burned patches.”

“No, I am not,” the Admiral said, keeping his irritation under rein. “I am simply describing what we found out of the ordinary. In addition to the burned areas there was the somewhat unusual setup in one of the first class dining rooms where all of the tables were laid for dinner, but just a few tables had been used and never cleared. I don’t know what it means. I am simply reporting what we have discovered. The worst things were the evidence of destruction, what must have been fighting of some kind.”

“Like what?” the Commodore asked, draining the last of the coffee and wishing that he had a drink instead.

“One of the luxury suites. Burned out, and I mean really burned, floors, ceilings, walls, everything. Then drenched with water by the sprinkler system. Not only that — but there are bullet holes in the walls, we even dug out a couple of slugs. And stains on the unburned parts of the carpet that could be blood. I had some scraped off and examined by the doctors and pharmacists, who are reasonably certain that it is blood, and probably human blood.”

Fire and blood and bullets. All of the Commodore’s worst dreams were coming true. Dead. Could they all be dead? His head dropped with the terror at the thought, his chin resting on his chest. Not realizing it, he spoke aloud.

“I can’t believe that they are all dead, murdered, I just can’t believe it. It all seems so impossible.”

“The whole damn thing is impossible. Where was this ship for three whole days?”

“That, Admiral, is the important question to ask.” Commodore Frith jerked his head up, anger washing away the weakness of fear. “And by God, we are going to find them. First, though, I am going to have a drink — it’s been a long and tiring trip.”

“Sorry, Commodore, but the American Navy is dry____”

“Thank God the British one isn’t! Nor is this ship. I know from experience there are plenty of spirits on board.”

“All under lock and key now, one of my first orders.”

“Very commendable. But since I came aboard, this vessel is once more flying the Cunard flag. We’ll go to the Captain’s quarters, Rapley always keeps a well-stocked bar there for entertaining.”