Dead Sea

“Something that bit him,” Morse said. “Chewed into him. Hmm. Is that tank sealed?”

“Yes, sir, it’s secured, all right.”

They talked about the fog, their predicament. The chances things might clear out there.

“I wish there was something I could tell you, but this is all beyond me.” Gosling sighed. “I’ve been sailing a long time, Captain. We both have. I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s not in the books or out of it.”

Morse’s face did not change. “Tell me something, Paul. Anything.”

“Okay. Radio’s working, but all we’re picking up is static. RDF is also working but, again, it’s not picking up a goddamn thing. SatNav seems operational, but it, too, is locking in on zilch” He shook his head. “It’s all pretty crazy. Satellite could be messed-up. I’ve seen it happen before, but we should get something. It’s almost like it’s not even up there anymore.”

Which was crazy. He didn’t need to tell Morse how GPS worked. That the GPS was a satellite-based navigation system provided by a network of no less than twenty-four satellites in separate orbital paths. Sure, one might go out and maybe even two or three… but all twenty-four?

Morse considered it. “All right. How about radar?”

“Working. Everything checks. We’re not reading a damn thing. No land masses, no ships. Nothing. Now and then we’ll get a few blips, then they disappear. Could be reflections or nothing at all. I really don’t know. Depthfinder’s okay. We’re reading bottom at twelve-hundred feet. Seems pretty consistent. Compass is moving counterclockwise still.”

“Mechanical?”

“No way. Back-up’s doing the same. Even the one I keep in my kit is doing it. Gyro can’t grab a fix, either. LORAN’s belly-up. There’s nothing wrong with our instruments, Captain. It’s gotta be this fog or this sea or something.” He shook his head. “I pulled her off autopilot

… I got Iverson on the wheel now. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I just don’t trust technology today.”

Morse stared at his hands. There were callused and rough from a lifetime spent battling the wind and weather. They shook slightly. “We better keep running quarter-speed until…”

Gosling licked his lips. “Until what?”

“Until we get out of this”

Gosling just nodded. There was really nothing else they could do. He knew Morse was thinking the same crazy things he was. Crazy, comic book shit about the Devil’s Triangle and the Sargasso Sea and all the silly stories they had inspired. But neither would speak of it.

“What about that smell before?” Morse asked.

“All I can tell you is that it’s gone. It didn’t come from us, I know that much. It came with the fog. Whatever sense that makes.” He chewed his lower lip, thinking. “It was more than a stink, Captain. We both know that. It was almost like there suddenly was no air.”

“Keep that to yourself” Morse said.

They sat there in silence for a moment. Then Gosling cleared his throat. “You ever seen anything like this?”

Morse pursed his lips. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, I guess. Nobody’s seen this before. Have you checked your watch?”

“My watch?”

Morse had a digital. It seemed to be operating.

Gosling had a diving watch. The hands were running backward. “And it’s not just mine.”

Morse exhaled. “I think,” he said slowly, “we’re in deep shit.”

17

About ten minutes later, Morse met with Saks and his crew. It was not something he was particularly looking forward to. He met with them in the observation lounge and answered their questions. The observation lounge was a space generally reserved for the brass of the shipping company and assorted VIPs: politicians, privileged guests etc. It contained a wet-bar, marble fireplace, imported leather furniture, and gleaming walnut paneling. Morse hoped, maybe in some small way, that the lavish accoutrements would give Saks the impression that he was thought highly of by the crew and officers of the Mara Corday… and particularly, the captain himself.

Of course, it was all a ruse. Morse was no more impressed by the man than his First was, but he knew all about men like Saks. If you could control him, you could control his people.

“The sea can get a little freakish this time of year,” Morse told them. “I’ve seen fogs wrap up a ship for two, three days. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Saks nodded. “That’s what I figured. You idiots hear what the captain said?”

Fabrini just shook his head. “Yeah, we heard, we heard.”

“Good. Now you can quit with the ghost stories all ready.”

“There really is no reason for alarm,” Morse told them, maintaining his demeanor, just damn glad they couldn’t see him on the inside – the quivering, white-knuckled thing he had become.

“Shit,” Fabrini said. “Do you guys even know where we are?”

“We’re on course. But we’re moving slow. We don’t have a choice in this soup.”

Saks scowled at that. “How much of a delay are we talking here? I got a contract to fill, you know.”

“A day, maybe two. No more than that.”

Soltz shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His glasses reflected the fluorescents above. “What about the man who threw himself overboard?”