“You were the person who sent it.”
“Yes.”
“And you thought someone might blame you.”
He nodded.
“I thought if Andrew had gone back because of my message, then perhaps I had contributed to what happened.”
Elise considered him.
“Did anyone ever accuse you?”
“No.”
“Did the investigation identify your transmission as a cause of his death?”
“No.”
“Did anyone tell you that Andrew had been ordered to return to the compartment?”
“No.”
“Then you have been carrying responsibility for something you don't know happened.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“I know that now.”
Elise closed the notebook.
“Why did you write that he went back?”
“Because I saw him near the corridor. And because I remember hearing his voice on the channel afterward.”
Elise looked up.
“What did he say?”
Daniel took a folded piece of paper from the case.
“I wrote this down a few days after we were evacuated. It was not in the notebook. I found it in an old folder last year.”
He unfolded it.
The paper contained a short passage.
Raven Six: Engineering status?
Unconfirmed.
Raven Six: Confirm lower section.
No response.
Raven Six: Repeat last.
Then several lines of static notation.
Elise stared at the words.
“That was Andrew?”
“I believe so.”
“Where did you get this?”
“I copied the transmission from a recording I had access to during the debriefing.”
“Was this an official transcript?”
“No. My personal copy.”
“Why did you keep it?”
“Because I thought I might need to explain what happened.”
Elise read the passage again.
She recognized the phrasing.
She remembered the channel.
She remembered the uncertainty.
But there was something else.
The final line.
Repeat last.
Andrew had not simply asked for the engineering status. He had asked for the last transmission again.
Elise looked at Daniel.
“Did you ever hear the original message?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
Daniel took a breath.
“It was difficult to understand. I heard something about a door.”
“A door?”
“I think so. There was a lot of interference. I thought the person was reporting a jammed access door.”
“Did you write that in your notes?”
“No. I didn't know whether I heard it correctly.”
“Did you tell the investigation?”
“I told them the communication had been incomplete. I don't remember whether I mentioned the door.”
Elise leaned back.
The lower engineering section contained several access doors. During the emergency, the ship's changing power conditions had affected the status of some internal systems. A jammed door could have been a serious problem.
But the official records had not identified an unaccounted-for sailor.
The signal might have referred to a damaged door. It might have been a routine status report. It might have been something else entirely.
She needed the original records.
“Daniel, I want you to understand something. I cannot promise this will lead to a new finding.”
“I don't expect you to.”
“I also cannot make a private investigation into a military incident. If there are records that should be reviewed, they need to go through the proper channels.”
“I understand.”
“Would you be willing to provide a statement to the appropriate office?”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
“Would you be willing to identify every document you retained and explain when and how you obtained it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She gathered the photocopies.
“One more question. Why did you write that I should read this before the next reunion?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Because I heard something at the last one.”
“What?”
“A former operations officer was speaking with another crew member. He said the Carver's final report had been reviewed again.”
Elise frowned.
“By whom?”
“I don't know.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Daniel thought for a moment.
“He said there had been a request to reopen part of the communications timeline. He said the request had not gone anywhere.”
“Did he mention a name?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“No. I didn't want to get involved.”
Elise looked at him.
“You are involved now.”
Daniel nodded.
“I know.”
She placed the documents back into the folder.
“Thank you for bringing this to me.”
Daniel stood.
“Commander?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think Andrew went back?”
Elise looked at him.
“I think he heard an incomplete transmission. I think he wanted the team accounted for. I think he took his responsibilities seriously.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“I know.”
Daniel waited.
Elise chose her words carefully.
“I remember Andrew. I remember how he behaved under pressure. I believe he would have tried to help if he thought someone was in danger. But I will not tell you that he entered a compartment or rescued someone when I cannot prove it.”
Daniel nodded.
“I suppose that's fair.”
“It is more than fair. It is the only honest answer.”
That evening, Elise told Mark about the meeting.
He listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he looked at the copied transmission.
“Could Andrew have been looking for someone?”
“He could have been checking the status of the engineering team.”
“Could the report be wrong?”
“It could be incomplete. That doesn't mean it was wrong.”
Mark looked at the phrase lower section.
“What happened to the people on that team?”
“They were all accounted for according to the final record.”
“Then what was the problem?”
“An incomplete communication. A possible access issue. We don't know yet.”
Mark rubbed his forehead.
“Mom will want to know.”
“I know.”
“Should we tell her?”
“Not until we understand what Daniel actually remembers.”
Mark nodded.
Then he looked at the photograph on the desk.
Andrew stood beside Elise, smiling at the camera.
“Do you remember this day?”
“Yes.”
“What was happening?”
“We had just finished a long shift. Andrew had been complaining about the coffee machine.”
Mark smiled.
“Of course.”
“He said the machine was a threat to morale.”
“That sounds exactly like him.”
Elise touched the photograph.
“He was happy that day.”
Mark looked at her.
“Were you?”
She considered the question.
“Yes. Tired, but happy.”