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Steen hurried into the communications room. An almost shapeless corpse sat in a chair hunched over the radio transmitter panel. He might have been a human when he stepped on board the Divine Star, not now. There was no hair, and but for the fully exposed teeth where the lips had been, Steen couldn't have told whether he was looking at the front or back. The pathetic abhorrence looked as though his skin had been blistered off and the flesh beneath burned and partially melted.
Yet there wasn't the slightest indication of excessive heat or fire. His clothes were as clean and pressed as though he'd just put them on.
The man seemed to have burned from within.
The horrible stench and the shocking sight staggered Steen. It took him a full minute to recover. Then he pushed the chair with its hideous owner off to one side and leaned over the radio.
Fortunately the digital frequency dial was labeled in Arabic numerals. After a few minutes of trial and error, he found the correct switches and hailed Captain Korvold on the Narvik.
Korvold answered immediately. "Come in, Mr. Steen," he replied formally. "What have you discovered?"
"Something sinister has happened here, Captain. So far we've found a deserted ship with one body, that of the radio operator, who was burned beyond recognition."
"Is there fire on board?"
"No sign. The computerized automated control system shows only green lights on its fire warning systems."
"Any indication as to why the crew took to the boats?" asked Korvold.
"Nothing obvious. They seemed to have left in a panic after attempting to scuttle the ship."
Korvold's mouth tightened, his knuckles turned ivory as he squeezed the phone. "Say again."
"The sea cocks were turned and jammed open. Andersson is working to close them now."
"Why on earth would the crew scuttle a sound ship with thousands of new cars on board?" Korvold asked vaguely.
"The situation must be viewed with suspicion, sir. Something on board is abnormal. The body of the radio operator is ghastly. He looks like he was roasted on a spit."
"Do you wish the ship's doctor to come over?"
"Nothing the good doctor can do here except perform a postmortem."
"Understood," replied Korvold. "I'll remain on station for another thirty minutes before I leave to search for the missing boats."
"Have you contacted the company, sir?"
r /> "I've held off until you're certain none of the original crew is alive to challenge our salvage claim. Finish your investigation. As soon as you're satisfied the ship is deserted I'll transmit a message to our company director notifying him of our taking possession of the Divine Star."
"Engineer Andersson is already at work closing the sea cocks and pumping her dry. We have power and should be under way shortly."
"The sooner the better," said Korvold. "You're drifting toward a British oceanographic survey vessel that's holding a stationary position."
"How far?"
"Approximately twelve kilometers."
"They're safe enough."
Korvold could think of little else to say. At last he said simply, "Good luck, Oscar. Make port safely."
And then he was gone.
Steen turned from the radio, his eyes avoiding the mutilated body in the chair. He felt a cold shudder grip him. He half expected to see the spectral captain of the Flying Dutchman pacing the bridge. There was nothing as morbid as a deserted ship, he thought grimly.
He ordered Sakagawa to hunt up and translate the ship's log. The two remaining seamen he sent to search the auto decks while he systematically went through the crew's quarters. He felt as though he was walking through a haunted house.
