The Map of the Sky

by Félix J Palma

  “The monster is on the ship, Captain,” he heard someone cry out amid the uproar. “It’s gone into the hold.”

  “On the ship?” MacReady said, drawing his pistol. “That’s impossible! How in damnation did it get on board?”

  No one except Reynolds could answer that. Buffeted like a leaf in the wind, the explorer forced his way through the crowd of anxious sailors until he reached the captain.

  “The monster can change into a human being, Captain,” he explained, going into less detail than he had with Allan. “It changed into Carson, which is how it was able to kill Doctor Walker.”

  “It changed into Carson? What nonsense are you talking, Reynolds?” said MacReady, his eyes fixed on the trapdoor leading to the hold as he cocked his rifle and began descending the ladder.

  “I am telling you the creature can make itself look like any one of us,” the explorer said, out of breath, clambering down after him. “You must warn your men!”

  “Keep your crazy ideas to yourself, Reynolds,” the captain muttered when he reached the bottom. “I will tell my men nothing of the sort.”

  Reynolds felt his frustration boil over into fury, and without thinking, he tucked his pistol into his belt, grabbed the captain by his lapels, and pushed him against the wall. Taken aback, MacReady stared at the explorer in astonishment.

  “Listen to me for once, damn it,” Reynolds said without loosening his grip. “I am telling you that thing can change into a human being, and if you refuse to inform your men we will all perish!”

  MacReady listened yet made no attempt to wriggle free, perhaps because he was trying to make sense of Reynolds’s unexpected response, at odds with the crude idea the captain had of him.

  “Very well,” he said coldly. “You have said your piece, now unhand me.”

  Reynolds let him go, surprised and slightly ashamed at his own behavior. The captain slowly straightened his lapels and gazed contemptuously at the explorer. Reynolds was about to apologize when he suddenly found himself pressed up against the wall, MacReady’s pistol digging into his left temple.

  “Listen carefully, Reynolds, because I’m not going to say this twice,” the captain growled in a hoarse voice. “If you ever, ever grab me by the lapels again, you’ll live to regret it.”

  The two men stared at each other in silence for a few moments.

  Reynolds’s voice seemed to ooze through his clenched teeth. “Captain, if you refuse to do as I say, neither of us will live long enough to regret anything. A few moments ago, Carson was in my cabin, and before my very eyes, and those of Gunner Allan, he changed into the monster from the stars and then tried to kill us both. We managed to shoot at the creature and it escaped, but not before changing into Allan, and then into a kind of gigantic spider. Do you understand what I am saying? That thing can change into anything it likes, including into one of us!”

  “Do you expect me to believe that Carson burst into your cabin to treat you to a preposterous fancy dress parade?” MacReady said, beside himself.

  “I invited him there because I was suspicious of him,” the explorer explained. “I had stumbled upon the real Carson’s body a few hours earlier while I was looking for the flying machine.”

  “What? You found Carson’s body? Why the devil didn’t you inform me?”

  “I didn’t consider it necessary,” Reynolds replied, shrugging as much as he dared with MacReady’s gun to his head.

  “You didn’t consider it necessary!” roared MacReady. “Who do you think you are? I’ve no more patience with you, Reynolds!”

  “Would you have believed me, Captain? You yourself ordered me not to bother you again, nor any of your men,” Reynolds reminded him, with more irony than bitterness.

  “Gentlemen,” declared Allan, who had climbed down after them, “I don’t think this is the time to—”

  “I’m the captain, Reynolds! It was your duty to inform me of the incident,” bellowed MacReady. “Do you realize that your heroics have put us all in danger?”

  “On the contrary, Captain. Thanks to my discovery our lives might yet be saved. Without knowing what the creature is capable of, we would be lost.”

  “And if the creature didn’t know that we knew, we would be at an advantage!” MacReady hissed. “God damn you, Reynolds, why didn’t you tell me so that we could capture the thing? What in Heaven’s name did you hope to gain by inviting it to your cabin?”

  “I wanted to make contact with it,” Reynolds acknowledged reluctantly, with some embarrassment. “I thought that—”

  “To make contact with it?” the captain roared, spraying Reynolds’s face with saliva. “You invited it to take tea, as if you were a couple of young ladies?”

  “Captain . . . ,” Allan ventured timidly, “don’t you think that—”

  “Hold your tongue, Sergeant!” MacReady snapped. “I thought you had more brains than this idiot. I swear to you, Reynolds, when all this is over, I’ll have you put behind bars for mutiny. I’m tempted to put a bullet in your head right now.” The captain contemplated Reynolds in silence, carefully weighing up his own proposition. “In fact, maybe I should do exactly that. Didn’t you say the monster could change into any one of us? How do I know it hasn’t taken on your appearance?” he said, stroking the trigger of his pistol.

  “I can vouch for Mr. Reynolds, Captain,” a voice chimed out behind MacReady. “I was with him when the creature fled before us. I saw it with my own eyes. Lower your weapon, I beg you.”

  MacReady glanced sideways at the barrel of the gun aimed at his left temple, and at the skinny arm of the sailor called Griffin, who was clasping it firmly.

  “And if I may say so, Captain, I agree with Allan: this conversation could take place some other time,” he suggested, still brandishing his pistol.

  MacReady contemplated the three men in turn, his face apoplectic with rage. Eventually he lowered his gun with a sigh and, pushing past Griffin, strode angrily toward the cargo hold, the others following close behind. A group of anxious sailors encircled the door, awaiting their orders.

  “Are you sure the monster is in there?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Wallace confirmed. “I saw it go in. It looked like a huge ant . . . Well, not exactly; in fact, it was as big as a pig, though it didn’t look like a pig either. It was more like a—”

  “Spare me the descriptions, Wallace,” snapped MacReady.

  The captain fell silent, while the crew huddled round the narrow door to the cargo hold watched him expectantly.

  “Pay attention,” he said, emerging finally from his deliberations and looking disdainfully at Reynolds. “Incredible though it may sound, that son of a bitch is capable of taking on a human appearance—that is, it can change into any one of us.”

  MacReady’s words unleashed a murmur of incredulity among the sailors, yet none dared offer an opinion. Reynolds, surprised by the captain’s reaction, could not help heaving a sigh of relief. At least now there was some hope of salvation. The explorer nodded his thanks to MacReady, who signaled toward the crew, inviting the explorer to address the handful of brave men clustered before him. Reynolds stood beside the captain and cleared his throat before speaking.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but what the captain says is true: the creature can make itself look like any one of us. Do not ask me how, but it can. It killed Carson, then came aboard looking like him. So, if you meet Carson in there, do not hesitate to shoot; the real Carson is lying out in the snow with his guts ripped out.”

  He paused, waiting for the sailors to digest his words.

  “How do we know it isn’t one of us?” ventured Kendricks, voicing the common fear.

  “We don’t. It could be anyone . . . even me,” Reynolds said, glancing at the captain. “That’s why we need to be doubly vigilant.”

  “I think it will be safer if we split up into pairs,” MacReady suggested, taking the floor again. “Whatever happens, each of us should try not to lose sight of our partner even for a seco
nd. That is the only way we can be sure the monster doesn’t change into one of us.”

  “And if you notice anything odd about your partner,” Reynolds warned, “whether a strange glint in his eye, or a change in his voice—”

  “Or a hideous tentacle extruding from his mouth,” Allan added, almost inaudibly.

  “—don’t hesitate to warn the others immediately,” Reynolds concluded.

  “Good. You heard what he said, lads,” growled MacReady, eager for the hunt to begin.

  He divided part of the crew into five pairs and told Shepard to distribute the lanterns hanging from the hooks. When the sailor had placed the last of them in the captain’s hands, MacReady spoke to his men once more.

  “That son of a bitch couldn’t have chosen a better place to hide. We may have a hard time finding it, but we have one advantage: this is the only exit. Lieutenant Blair, you and Ringwald stay here and watch the door. If that thing tries to get out, shoot it dead, understood? You others,” he said, addressing the carpenters and the rest of the maintenance crew, “I suggest you go back up to the lower deck and wait there, armed with whatever you can lay your hands on.”

  “What about me, Captain?” asked Reynolds, who was not prepared to wait outside the hold.

  “Reynolds, you come with me.”

  The explorer was so astonished he could barely nod his agreement. He drew his pistol and positioned himself next to MacReady, feigning a resolve he was far from feeling. Pairing up with the captain was the last thing in the world Reynolds wanted to do, in particular because he had no idea whether MacReady had chosen him because of his expertise about the monster or because he considered him a liability who would get in the way of any sailor unfortunate enough to be saddled with him. Or perhaps he was intending to shoot him in the back the moment they were alone, thus ridding himself of the explorer’s irksome presence once and for all. Whatever the case, Reynolds said to himself, he must show he was equal to the task if he wanted that fool MacReady to know that he, Jeremiah Reynolds, deserved every bit of the respect and admiration the captain begrudged him.

  “All right, let’s get the bastard,” the captain commanded.

  • • •

  WEAPONS AT THE READY, the group entered the hold, lanterns aloft, infiltrating the dense blackness like a swarm of fireflies. The icy space seemed at least thirty degrees colder. And despite the large space, Reynolds soon realized it was almost impossible to move around freely, for beyond the pale glow of the lantern he could make out an intricate maze of passageways formed by mounds of crates, coal sacks, water tanks, baskets, barrels, bales, and dozens of mysterious bundles covered with tarpaulins piled right up to the ceiling. At a sign from MacReady, Reynolds watched the other men slip like silent shadows into the narrow spaces, muskets sniffing the air. Peters brandished an enormous machete the length of his forearm as he moved forward, scrutinizing the darkness, his face set in a cruel grimace, in defiance of whatever was lurking in there. Griffin, incredibly small and frail by comparison, ventured into the enveloping blackness with calm self-assurance. Out of all the sailors, only Allan seemed as convinced as he was that they were all going to die in there.

  MacReady and Reynolds took the central aisle. The captain went first, moving very slowly, pistol cocked, lantern held high. Reynolds, his weapon also loaded and ready to fire as soon as he perceived the slightest suspicious movement, tried to follow at what he considered a prudent distance: not close enough to appear fearful, not too far away for them to defend each other in case the monster ambushed them. Reynolds was convinced the Martian would attack him before any of the others. It was a reasonable supposition, for he was the one who had exposed the creature. He was to blame for them hunting it down now.

  Suddenly they saw an enormous figure pass a few yards in front of them. Without delay, MacReady raised his pistol in the air and ran toward where the creature had vanished. Reynolds, on the contrary, remained motionless, horrified by the monster’s new shape, as the darkness fell on him like a shroud. He had scarcely glimpsed the Martian as it darted across the passageway, but he had seen enough to know that the monster had reached another stage in its metamorphosis. What he had seen was a vaguely humanoid creature, more like one of the demons that had so terrified him as a child than like a spider. And although it appeared slightly hunched as it ran, he thought it looked bigger than Peters. That was all he could say about it. The darkness in the hold had made it impossible even to make out its color. A couple of loud reports interrupted the explorer’s reverie. He deduced from their proximity that the shots had come from MacReady’s gun. Reynolds swallowed hard, trying to overcome the fear that had seeped into his bones, and a few seconds later he found himself running in the same direction as the captain. When Reynolds reached his side, bathed in sweat and panting, he found MacReady peering furiously into the inky blackness stretching beyond the lantern’s glow.

  “That bastard is fast,” he said.

  “Did you hit it?” said Reynolds, trying to catch his breath.

  “I think so, but I’m not sure. Did you see it, Reynolds? It looks like a goddamned orang-utan, but with a kind of forked tail—”

  Before MacReady was able to go on, they heard the fire of muskets, followed by a din of shouts and crates crashing to the floor. When the rumpus ended, Reynolds could hear several sailors exclaiming excitedly that they had shot the creature, although their voices appeared to emanate from different areas of the hold. MacReady shook his head ruefully.

  “Regroup at the door!” he yelled, the lantern light illuminating his vaporous breath.

  With a nod of his head, he ordered Reynolds to follow him. They hurried back to the meeting place and found several of the men already there. The others arrived seconds later, and they were relieved to see that no one was missing. The men huddled near the narrow entrance to one of the passageways, and while the captain tried to form an idea of what had happened from their jumbled accounts, Reynolds leaned against what seemed like a solid pile of crates and observed the scene with a strange ambivalence: the creature he had glimpsed was far more powerful and terrifying than he had imagined in his worst nightmares, and his earlier euphoria at having escaped from his cabin alive was beginning to be eclipsed by the notion that all their attempts at survival would be in vain. But he must banish these morbid thoughts, he told himself; he had to carry on believing there was some hope of survival, however slight.

  “I think I hit it,” Ringwald assured them excitedly.

  Reynolds looked at him askance, as did the others, because they were all claiming the same thing. Suddenly, a drop of blood appeared on Ringwald’s brow, followed by another, and soon a small trickle was running down his face into the corner of his mouth. Ringwald touched his fingers to his forehead, puzzled, and, verifying that the blood was not coming from him but from above, he peered up at the ceiling. The others did likewise. On top of a very tall pile of crates they were able to make out what looked like a dead body, although all they could see was one leg sticking out at an impossible angle.

  “Good God,” muttered Lieutenant Blair.

  “Why did the monster put him up there?” Kendricks wondered, equally horrified.

  They went on gawping at the leg, dangling like a question mark in the air, until a wave of comprehension began to wash over them. Then, the sea of heads swathed in scarves began bobbing this way and that as, with a growing sense of horror, the sailors confirmed over and over again that no one in the group was missing. Some even instinctively moved away from the man next to them.

  “Damnation!” roared MacReady, enraged that the Martian refused to let itself be hunted like any other wild beast. “Who lost sight of his partner?”

  The men shrugged as one and exchanged suspicious glances. Apparently no one. But someone must have, Reynolds thought. Then he remembered with a shudder that he had. He had lost sight of MacReady briefly, just after they glimpsed the creature. As though his gesture were a continuation of that thought, Reynolds turned
and aimed his pistol at the captain, but MacReady must have reached the same conclusion, for Reynolds found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. The sailors looked on in horror at the two men pointing their weapons at each other. For a few moments there was silence.

  “If I were the monster, Reynolds,” MacReady said, cocking his gun, “I would take on your appearance so as not to arouse suspicion.”

  The explorer twisted his mouth in disgust.

  “I don’t intend to waste my breath talking to you this time, whatever you are,” he replied. “Three.”

  The shot from Reynolds’s pistol knocked MacReady’s head back. When it flopped forward again, he stared at Reynolds with a puzzled expression, as though unable to believe he had shot him. Finally, the captain’s legs crumpled and he fell to the floor, where he lay stretched out at their feet. Reynolds gazed at him, amazed at the ease with which he had dispatched the creature.

  “Good God, he’s killed the captain!” Lieutenant Blair exclaimed.

  Reynolds turned to the others, reassuring them with a wave of his hand.

  “Keep calm. This is the monster, not the captain. I lost sight of MacReady for several minutes. Long enough for the creature to kill him and adopt his appearance,” he explained in a steady voice. Then he looked once more at the captain, who was lying faceup in the middle of the circle they had formed. “Pay attention and you will see how the creature’s true form reemerges.”

  Their objections silenced, the sailors keenly contemplated MacReady’s body. He had a bullet hole right in the middle of his broad forehead, and death had finally erased his look of permanent irritation, replacing it with a surprisingly affable, almost kindly, expression, far more suited to entering the afterworld without arousing fear or loathing in his fellow spirits. But the minutes went by and the captain’s face failed to undergo any change whatsoever. Perhaps the monster preserved its disguise after death, Reynolds reflected, as the sailors’ anticipation quickly turned to disbelief, and he began to feel uncomfortable under their increasingly mistrustful gaze. He turned to them, shrugging foolishly.