If you receive this log, do not look for us. Do not follow the coordinates. And for the love of God, do not unfasten your seatbelt.
But there is no pilot to verify. Only an empty lavatory, a ticking watch, and a message that keeps reappearing on every screen in the cockpit:
I asked Araújo what the “-N...” at the end of the subject line means. He looked at me like I’d spoken a dead language. Then he typed it into the navigation computer.
Captain Mendes had gone to the lavatory twelve minutes ago. He never came back. Airplane- - Apertem os Cintos O Piloto Sumiu -N...
Airplane- - Apertem os Cintos O Piloto Sumiu -N...
The last transmission from the tower, before we lost contact: “Legacy 600, you are deviating from controlled airspace. Please verify your pilot’s identity. Repeat: verify your pilot’s identity.”
Fasten your seatbelts. The pilot has disappeared. If you receive this log, do not look for us
Co-pilot Araújo is strapped into his seat, but his hands are shaking too hard to work the radio. He keeps muttering the same phrase under his breath: “Apertem os cintos. O piloto sumiu.”
Now the cabin lights are flickering. Portuguese, English, and a third language I don’t recognize are cycling through the PA system. The third one sounds like consonants folding in on themselves. The passengers are screaming.
The autopilot disengaged.
But turbulence doesn’t leave a captain’s wristwatch on the floor of a locked lavatory, still ticking. Turbulence doesn’t fold a uniform jacket neatly over the toilet lid, as if the body inside it simply evaporated.
Araújo just pointed at the primary flight display.
Because whatever took him is still on this plane. And it’s learning how to fly. But there is no pilot to verify
The plane dropped 2,000 feet before I grabbed the yoke.