Chapter 117 – Ghost Ship (2)

First, I went out onto the topmost deck accessible to passengers, the boat deck. As the name suggests, lifeboats for escape were lined up there.
For the time, it was considered more than the standard number, but it’s famous for being insufficient, which led to so many casualties.

But right now, I have no use for them. Or rather, if I ever do, that would be terrible.

Anyway, right outside the grand staircase, one of the four massive smokestacks towered overhead.

And halfway between the horizon and the zenith, the moon was shining. A sinisterly red moon.

“So tonight’s a total lunar eclipse, huh? … Yeah, as if.”

Without thinking, I looked up at the sky, exasperated, and put both hands on my hips.

With the staging laid on this thick, it actually made me want to just throw up my hands and give in.

And since I had researched beforehand, I knew this: on that night it wasn’t a full moon, but almost a new moon. There are even testimonies saying there was no moonlight at all. 

If it had been a clear full moon night, they might have been able to see farther, and maybe the tragedy could have been avoided.

(So in other words, this moon is fake—or maybe it’s the manifestation of the wishes of the souls of the dead?)

“If that’s the case, then I’m being called here by the wishes of the dead too? Don’t tell me to save them. The outcome’s already decided.”

Turning my gaze around, I saw the gymnasium behind me. Toward the front was, if I remembered correctly, an area related to ship operations.
Sure enough, even from the deck I could see chains across the passageways marking them off-limits.

Still, I figured I should at least go once, so I walked forward.

When I reached the chained-off area, I found the wireless room right before it. The wireless room was used by the crew, but since passengers could also send telegrams as a service, we were allowed in this far.

“Do you need something, young lady?”

A crew member standing at the room’s door asked me pleasantly. He must have assumed I’d come to have a telegram sent.

So I smiled pleasantly in return.

“Yes. I’d like to tell my family who will be meeting me that I’ll be arriving the day after tomorrow. Could you arrange that?”

“Of course. Please come this way and fill out the message, recipient, and other necessary details. Just be aware there are many requests at the moment, so it may take a little while. I hope you’ll understand.”

“I see. But I don’t mind if it’s just a little delay.”

“Very well then. Please, go ahead.”

Saying that, he set up a seat for me, so I went ahead and scribbled something down. Since it was all fake anyway, I finished quickly. But when I looked up, the crew member who had attended me was gone. It seemed he had gone back toward the door.

But since there were other people around, I didn’t mind it much and spoke up.

“I’ve finished writing.”

“……”

No response. Even after calling out several more times, I was completely ignored.

(What?! Is it because I’m a person of color? Huh?!)

Getting irritated inside, I instinctively reached out and placed my hand on his shoulder, but he just glanced at it with a puzzled look and brushed it off like dust.

“Wha—! Hey, isn’t that rude to a passenger?!”

I couldn’t help but yell, and at that moment the crew member from earlier hurried back from the door, asking, “What’s the matter?”

So I protested, “This person ignored me. I suppose it can’t be helped since I’m a person of color, but I will report this matter to the company.”

The crew member who had spoken with me earlier apologized profusely. Then, when he called out to the one who had ignored me, that man finally responded—but something about him was clearly off.

Their conversation didn’t line up at all. No matter how I looked at it, it wasn’t that I had been deliberately ignored; it was more like my existence hadn’t even registered with him.

Even so, the one who could see me forced the other to bow his head in apology to me, and for the time being, I decided to let it go.
Or rather, it felt like I had come to the right place.

This was definitely some kind of hint. If this were a story, a movie, or a game, it couldn’t be anything else.

I quickly left the wireless room and went somewhere I could be alone to think.

(Some people can recognize me, and some can’t—what kind of hint is that supposed to be? Maybe it’s the difference between the dead and the survivors? That would be nice and easy to understand. First, I need to confirm that.)

From there, I went around randomly visiting places on the ship where passengers freely gathered, repeating the process of speaking to anyone I could.

Talking to them might provide some sort of hint, and at the very least I could find out whether or not they could recognize me. And what I learned without even having to speak was that there were definitely people who couldn’t perceive me at all.

In one case, I passed by several people, but none of them even tried to avoid me. The first time, I assumed they would step aside, so I lightly bumped shoulders with one of them—but that person only looked around with a puzzled expression, as if searching for what they had brushed against.

Another thing I realized was that no one treated me with contempt for being a person of color. There were none of the discriminating stares I sometimes felt in America, nor the deliberately audible sneers.
Everyone who could see me seemed to think I was white.

And somehow, I kept feeling the strong presence of gazes. I had the distinct sense I was being watched from all directions, yet there wasn’t a single person actually looking at me. 

It was extremely unsettling.

After confirming that much, I decided to search for three particular people.

If this isn’t a dream I’m seeing on my own, then there must be someone who invited me into it—or someone who is making me see it. To confirm that kind of storybook cliché, I decided to look for certain people.

One was a man whose photo I’d seen in the documents back in New York: Bruce Ismay, president of the White Star Line, the company that owned the Titanic. He survived, but was heavily criticized for fleeing.

Another was the Titanic’s designer, Thomas Andrews. The documents said he gave his place on a lifeboat to a woman and died.
Since he was the designer, I figured many people on the ship would know him.

And one more was the Titanic’s captain. The documents stated he went down with the ship.
He had a photo as well.

As for where they might be—the captain of a luxury liner usually made appearances in various places, talking with passengers and checking on things. 

Because of that, he was likely to be moving around a lot, making him the hardest to run into.

The other two, though, were best sought in gentlemen’s gathering places like the smoking room or the lounge.
Dinner’s main hours had already passed, but the next best bet would be one of the restaurants.

Since this ship didn’t have a restaurant solely dedicated to serving drinks, the chances of finding them there were high.

(Come to think of it, unlike in America, drinking alcohol here is perfectly normal.)

The lounge and the smoking room were both on A Deck, just below the boat deck where I’d started. But since I had gone down quite a ways while looking around earlier, I now had to make my way back up.

On that first circuit, I hadn’t run into any of the faces I’d seen in the photographs. On my way back, I asked a crew member if it was possible to meet the captain, but he only replied that he didn’t know where the captain was.
The only advice he gave was that perhaps a senior officer might know.

So I went down a little, arriving at C Deck. This floor had the grand dining saloon and the lounge. But the lounge was a bust. 

I had checked earlier too, and as before, nothing.
None of the people I was hoping to find were there.

“Please, come in.”

With the waiter’s permission at the entrance, I stepped into the dining saloon.
Unlike before, though, I was suddenly overwhelmed by temptation.

After all, this was the finest restaurant, serving only first-class cuisine. Mouthwatering aromas drifted from every direction.

“Guuhhh…”

My stomach growled before I could stop it.

“Geh!”

I quickly glanced around to see if anyone had heard, but luckily no one was laughing.

Still, the smell was far too good. It made me start to seriously doubt whether this was really just a dream, and I found myself wanting to eat something.

(I’ll probably be moving around nonstop for the next few hours, so maybe I should put at least a little something in my stomach? But when the sinking time comes, it’ll either be game over or reset—that’s the usual setup. Which means, I don’t really have much time.)

“Are you looking for someone?”

“Geh!!”

I must have been lost in thought for quite a while, because someone’s sudden voice startled me, making me instinctively step back.
When I turned toward the source, I saw a man in white clothing, raising both hands slightly to show he meant no harm.

(Ah, that bearded face. That’s definitely the captain.)