Chapter 12
Ship office held stale air. Fluorescent light buzzed overhead. Gray daylight pressed against narrow window, flat and overcast, same light from deck that morning. Ship still underway, engines humming through deck plates. I stood outside admin office with request slip folded in palm.
Investigating officer sat behind metal desk. Lieutenant Reyes looked tired, sleeves pushed up, file stacked beside coffee mug.
I knocked. He waved me in.
Request for mast chit shook in hand. Paper required chain of command to acknowledge. Request to address commanding officer directly, then squadron if needed. Career risk built into ink. Signature invited retaliation.
Reyes read form. Expression stayed flat.
Reyes asked why now. I said inquiry deadlocked. Deck narrative still controlled same senior figure at rail. Truth needed shore review.
He stared at chit. Pen tapped against desk. He said mast request would flag file, would not bury quietly, would follow record wherever I went next.
I nodded. Breath stayed slow. I said understood.
He signed as witness, not approval, just receipt. Carbon copy slid back to me. Original went into his folder. Packet now existed outside antagonist's control. Step one complete.
I left office. Passageway smelled like oil and laundry. Overcast light leaked through hatch above, same gray as deck that morning. No shore in sight, just water and steel.
Chief Petty Officer Ellis waited near communications space. She had been near dome when incident started, had seen rope rigged wrong. She kept voice low.
Ellis said she had photos. Rope texture close-up, hull chafe mark, knot still tied to pad eye where line had been used as makeshift restraint, not safety line.
I pulled notes from uniform pocket. Handwritten timeline, rope measurements, light conditions, verbatim line remembered: "She was trying to escape." Second speaker attribution noted beside it. Pages creased from being folded under mattress.
Ellis glanced down passageway, then pushed door to comms office open. Inside, junior radioman pretended to check log.
Ellis slipped photos across console. I added notes. Reyes followed minute later, closed door behind him.
Reyes laid mast chit on top of packet. He said squadron admin would need physical copy, ship could not transmit mast request via routine message without command seeing content. Hard copy had to go with next courier helo.
I asked if courier still scheduled. Reyes said tomorrow morning, weather permitting, overcast deck ops window at 0900. Packet would go in sealed investigations envelope, logged as legal correspondence, not command mail.
Ellis asked what happened after packet left. Reyes said shore command would have to acknowledge receipt, ship could not claim inquiry closed internally. Decision forced beyond hull.
Reyes looked at me. He said once packet left, antagonist would know, pressure would increase before helo arrived. He offered chance to withdraw chit, keep complaint inside ship, avoid mark on record.
Paused. Breathing filled small room. Overcast light hummed against porthole. Ship rolled slightly, rope still somewhere below deck, tied off where no one had authorized its use.
I said request stands. Packet goes.
Reyes nodded, sealed envelope, stamped it, logged number in book. Number made packet real. Could not unwrite.
Ellis rested hand briefly on my forearm. Grip firm, quick, then gone. She said she would confirm courier manifest, ensure envelope listed.
May you like
I folded carbon copy, slipped into pocket over chest pin. Uniform collar still held white insignia, same from deck to water to now.
Door opened. Passageway noise returned. Ship continued underway under flat gray sky, no shore yet, but packet now designated for shore command. Bury attempt failed.
