In the meantime, Captain T'Roc has tasked me with researching the area in detail. I am collating data on all the vessels that have disappeared in the area. It's no surprise that this has not been done before. While the Earhart's disappearance was well documented and thoroughly investigated, most other incidents were not so notable. Small civilian ships are missed by only a few family members and friends.
With this in mind, I have been trawling through the records of all the worlds in the area and surrounding vicinity searching for mentions of missing vessels, curious rematerialisations and any other strange events. Unlike the zone's namesake, (the Bermuda Triangle, which had an average number of disappearances for the amount of traffic and whose reputation was built solely upon gossip and tales), the Bermuda Zone is definitely a problem area.
While officially, the numbers are small, once you start to include all the 'insignificant' vessels, they soon grow. At present, I have found one hundred and twenty-one such ships that have disappeared over the last twenty-two years. Of these, only three have been found—not just the Earhart as we first thought, but the Chinkower and the L'de Jagh as well. More disturbing though, is another fact that I have unearthed.
Those ships all had crew and passengers. Ignoring the Earhart, the missing total 1,041 and while there are no official numbers available, there are many reports (granted, some unconfirmed) of corpses found floating in space. Without any official records to confirm or repute, these could well be unconnected, but I doubt it because they all have one thing in common. The bodies were emaciated and dehydrated.
And so it is that with this news, the crew is anxious. Nerves are frayed and mine too. I've not pursued the matter of my curious ability to block telepaths and mask my brainwaves, or my curious DNA. To be honest, other things prey on my mind: namely, the shadows.
As I sit here now, I can see one out of the corner of my eye, lurking where no shadow can possibly be. If I shift my gaze towards it, it melts away leaving no trace. But as I return to my work, it reappears until it is ready to go. Like phantoms, these tall columns of darkness float around the edge of the room and then pass through the walls and are gone.
I wonder if anybody else is experiencing this, or is it just me. Am I going slightly mad? Normally, it is an incident I would report, but I think I've stuck my head above the parapet once too often already. With one hundred and forty crew on board, surely someone else will complain about it and then I'll see it on the reports. If not, well then, it is just me and the only question that remains is whether it is my vivid imagination playing tricks on me ... or something else.