The Terror

by Dan Simmons

  Tozer looked surprised. “Why, they was barking and snarling and lunging at us, Captain. They was more wolves than dogs.”

  “Did you consider, Sergeant, that they might have been useful to us?” asked Fitzjames.

  “Yes, sir. As meat.”

  Crozier said, “Describe the two Esquimaux that got away.”

  “A little one, Captain. Mr. Farr said that he thought it might have been a woman. Or a girl. She had blood on her hood but obviously she wasn’t dead.”

  “Obviously,” Crozier said drily. “What about the other one who escaped?”

  Tozer shrugged. “A little man with a headband is all I know, Captain. He’d fallen behind the sledge there, and we all thought he was a deader. But he got up and run with the girl when we was busy shooting the dogs, sir.”

  “Did you pursue them?”

  “Pursue them, sir? Oh, yes, absolutely. We run our ar— … we run after them hard, Captain. And we was reloading and firing as we went, sir. I think I hit that little Esquimaux bitch again, but she didn’t slow down one whit, sir. They was just too fast for us. But they won’t be coming back this way no time soon, sir. We saw to that.”

  “How about their friends?” Crozier said drily.

  “Pardon, sir?” Tozer was grinning again.

  “Their tribe. Village. Clan. Other hunters and warriors. These people came from somewhere. They haven’t been out on the ice all winter. Presumably they’ll return to that village, if they’re not there already. Did you consider that the other Esquimaux hunters — men who kill every day — might take it personally that we killed eight of their kindred, Sergeant?”

  Tozer looked confused.

  Crozier said, “You’re dismissed, Sergeant. Send in Second Lieutenant Hodgson.”

  Hodgson looked as miserable as Tozer had complacent. The young lieutenant was obviously distraught over the death of his closest friend on the expedition and sickened by the attack he had ordered after he had come across Irving’s reconnaissance group and been led to Irving’s body.

  “At ease, Lieutenant Hodgson,” said Crozier. “Do you need a chair?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Tell us how you came to join up with Lieutenant Irving’s group. Your orders from Captain Fitzjames were to go on a hunting expedition south of Terror Camp.”

  “Yes, Captain. And we did that much of the morning. There was not so much as a rabbit track in the snow along the coast, sir, and we couldn’t get out onto the sea ice because of the height of the bergs piled up along the shore ice. So around ten a.m. we turned inland, thinking maybe there’d be sign of some caribou or foxes or musk oxen or something.”

  “But there wasn’t?”

  “No, sir. We came across the tracks of about ten people wearing soft-soled Esquimaux-type boots instead. That and their sledge and dog tracks.”

  “And you followed those tracks back northwest instead of continuing hunting?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who made that decision, Second Lieutenant Hodgson? You or Sergeant Tozer, who was second in your party?”

  “Me, sir. I was the only officer there. I made that and all the other decisions.”

  “Including the final decision of attacking the Esquimaux?”

  “Yes, sir. We spied on them a minute from the ridge where poor John had been murdered and gutted, and … well, you know what they did to him, Captain. The savages looked like they were preparing to leave, heading back to the southwest. That’s when we decided to attack them in force.”

  “You had how many weapons, Lieutenant?”

  “Our group had three rifles, two shotguns, and two muskets, sir. Lieutenant Irving’s group just had the one musket. Oh, and a pistol we fetched from John’s … from Lieutenant Irving’s greatcoat pocket.”

  “The Esquimaux left the weapon in his pocket?” asked Crozier.

  Hodgson paused a moment as if he had not considered this before. “Yes, sir.”

  “Was there any other sign of theft of his personal possessions?”

  “Yes, sir. Mr. Hickey had reported to us as to how he’d seen the Esquimaux rob John … Lieutenant Irving … of his telescope and valise before they killed him up on the ridge, sir. When we got to that ridge, I could see through our own glass that the natives were going through his valise and passing his telescope around down there in the valley where I guess they’d stopped after murdering and … mutilating … him.”

  “Were there tracks?”

  “Pardon me, sir?”

  “Tracks … of the Esquimaux … going down from the bare ridgeline where you found the lieutenant’s body to where the natives were going through his possessions.”

  “Uh … yes, sir. I think so, Captain. I mean, I can remember a thin line of tracks that I thought were just John’s at the time but must have been the rest of theirs as well. They must have gone up and down in a line, sort of, Captain. Mr. Hickey said that they were all around him up on the bare ridge there as they cut his throat and … did the other things, sir. He said that it wasn’t all of them … not the women and the boy, maybe … but it was six or seven of the heathens. The hunters, sir. The younger men.”

  “And the old man?” asked Crozier. “I understand that there was a toothless old man among the bodies when you were done.”

  Hodgson nodded. “He had one tooth left, Captain. I can’t remember if Mr. Hickey said the old man was part of the group that killed John.”

  “How was it that you first came upon Mr. Farr’s group — Lieutenant Irving’s reconnaissance party — if you had been following the Esquimaux’s tracks north, Lieutenant?”

  Hodgson nodded briskly as if relieved to be asked a question he could answer with certainty. “We lost the natives’ footprints and sledge tracks about a mile south of where Lieutenant Irving was attacked, sir. They must have been moving more east then, across the low ridgetops where there was ice, but mostly rock, sir … you know, that frozen gravel. We couldn’t find their sledge or dog tracks or footprints anywhere in the valleys, so we continued due north, the way they’d been going. We came down off a hill and found Thomas Farr’s group — John’s reconnaissance party — just finishing their dinner. Mr. Hickey had come back to report on what he’d seen just a minute or two earlier, and I guess we frightened Thomas and his men … they thought we were the Esquimaux coming for them.”

  “Did you observe anything odd about Mr. Hickey?” asked Crozier.

  “Odd, sir?”

  Crozier waited in silence.

  “Well,” continued Hodgson, “he was shaking very hard. As if palsied. And his voice was very agitated, almost shrill. And he … well, sir … he was laughing some. Giggling, like. But all that’s to be expected from a man who’d just seen what he’d just seen, isn’t it, Captain?”

  “And what did he see, George?”

  “Well …” Hodgson looked down to regain his composure. “Mr. Hickey had told Captain of the Maintop Farr, and he repeated to me, that he’d been out to check on Lieutenant Irving and came over a ridge just in time to see these six or seven or eight Esquimaux stealing the lieutenant’s belongings and stabbing and mutilating him. Mr. Hickey said — he was still shaking hard, sir, very upset — that he’d seen them cut off John’s private parts.”

  “You saw Lieutenant Irving’s body just a few minutes later, didn’t you, Lieutenant?”

  “Aye, sir. It was about a twenty-five-minute walk from where Farr’s group had been eating dinner.”

  “But you didn’t start shaking uncontrollably after you saw Irving’s body, did you, Lieutenant? Shaking for twenty-five minutes or more?”

  “No, sir,” said Hodgson, obviously not understanding the reason for Crozier’s question. “But I threw up, sir.”

  “And when did you decide to attack the Esquimaux group and kill all of them?”

  Hodgson swallowed audibly. “After I spied them from the ridge through my glass going through John’s valise and playing with his telescope, Captain. As soon as we all took a look — Mr.
Farr, Sergeant Tozer, and myself — and realized that the Esquimaux had turned their sledge around and were getting ready to leave.”

  “And you gave the order to take no prisoners?”

  Hodgson looked down again. “No, sir. I didn’t really think about it one way or the other. I was just so … angry.”

  Crozier said nothing.

  “I did tell Sergeant Tozer that we had to ask one of the Esquimaux about what happened, Captain,” the lieutenant continued. “So I guess I thought before the action that some would be alive after. I was just so … angry.”

  “Who gave the actual order to fire, Lieutenant? You or Sergeant Tozer or Mr. Farr or someone else?”

  Hodgson blinked several times, very rapidly. “I don’t remember, sir. I’m not sure there was an order given. I just remember that we got to within about thirty yards, perhaps less, and I saw several of the Esquimaux men grab their harpoons or spears or whatever they were, and then everyone along our line was firing and reloading and firing. And the natives were running and the women were screaming … the older woman kept screaming like, well, like the banshees you’ve told us about, Captain … a high, warbling, constant scream … even after several balls had hit her, she kept up that God-awful screaming. Then Sergeant Tozer walked up and stood over her with John’s pistol and … it all happened very fast, Captain. I’ve never been involved in anything like that.”

  “Nor have I,” said Crozier.

  Fitzjames said nothing. He’d been the hero of several wild land campaigns during the Opium Wars. His gaze now was downcast and seemed to be turned inward.

  “If mistakes were made, sirs,” said Hodgson, “I take full responsibility. I was the ranking officer of the two groups with Jo— … with Lieutenant Irving dead. It’s all my responsibility, sirs.”

  Crozier looked at him. The captain could feel the dead flatness of his own gaze. “You were the only officer present, Lieutenant Hodgson. For good or ill, it was and is your responsibility. In about four hours, I want to lead a party to the site of the murder and shootings. We’ll leave by lantern light and follow your sledge tracks back to the place, but I want to be there by the time the sun rises. You and Mr. Farr will be the only men from today’s actions that I want along with us. Get some sleep and be fed and ready to go by six bells.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “And send in Caulker’s Mate Hickey.”

  39

  GOODSIR

  Lat. 69° 37′ 42″ N., Long. 98° 41′ W.

  25 April, 1848

  From the private diary of Dr. Harry D. S. Goodsir:

  Tuesday, 25 April, 1848 —

  I liked Lieutenant Irving very much. My Impression of him was that he was a Decent and Caring young man. I did not know him Well, but through all these Hard Months — especially during the many Weeks that I spent time on Terror as well as Erebus — I never once saw the Lieutenant shirk a duty or speak harshly to the Men or deal with them or me with anything other than gentleness and Professional Courtesy.

  I know that Captain Crozier is especially Devastated by the Loss. His face was so Pale when He came into camp this morning sometime after 2:00 a.m. that I would have staked my Professional Reputation on the opinion that it could not grow any paler. But it did upon his hearing the News. Even his lips became as white as the ice-pack snow we have been staring at now for the better part of three years.

  But however much I liked and respected Lieutenant Irving, I had to perform my Professional Duties and put all memories of Friendly Acquaintance aside.

  I removed the remnants of Lieutenant Irving’s clothing — buttons had been ripped off all layers from his Waistcoat to his Long Underwear, and the Caked Blood had frozen the clumped Fabric into iron-hard wrinkled masses — and had my assistant, Henry Lloyd, help me in bathing Lieutenant Irving’s body. The water — from ice and snow Mr. Diggle’s mates melted using some of the Coal we brought over from the Ships — was precious, but it was necessary that we honour young Irving this way.

  I did not, of course, have to make my usual inverted-Y incision from hip bones to umbilicus — the base of the upside-down Y running up to the sternum — since Lieutenant Irving’s Murderers had already done so.

  I made my usual Notes and Sketches as I proceeded, my Fingers aching from the Cold. The Cause of Death holds no Mysteries. The Wound to Lieutenant Irving’s Neck had been caused by at least two savage slashes by a nonserrated blade, and he Bled to Death. I seriously doubt if there is a Pint of blood left in the hapless young Officer’s body.

  The Trachea and Larynx have been severed and there are blade gouges on the exposed cervical vertebrae.

  His abdominal cavity has been opened by repeated sawing of a Short Blade through skin, flesh, and connecting Tissue, and the majority of his Upper and Lower intestines have been cut out and removed. Lieutenant Irving’s spleen and kidneys have also been slashed and opened by a Sharp Object or Objects. His liver is missing.

  The lieutenant’s penis has been amputated approximately one Inch above its Base and is missing. His Scrotum has been cut open along its Central Axis and the testes cut out. Repeated Applications of the Blade were required to cut through the scrotal sac, the epididymis, and the tunica vaginalis. It is possible that the Assailant’s Blade was growing Dull by this point.

  While the testes are absent, remnants of the vas deferens and the urethra and major portions of connecting tissue from the base of the penis into the body cavity remain.

  While there are signs of multiple Bruisings on Lieutenant Irving’s body — many of them Consistent with a diagnosis of growing Scurvy — there are no other Serious Wounds visible anywhere. It is interesting that there are no Defensive Cuts on his hands, forearms, or palms.

  It seems apparent that Lieutenant Irving was taken completely by Surprise. His Assailant or Assailants cut his throat before he had the Least Opportunity to defend himself. They then took some time Disemboweling him and Removing his Private Parts through repeated Incisions and Sawing Motions.

  In preparing the lieutenant’s body for burial later today, I sewed up his Neck and Throat as best I could and — after setting some Nonoriginal but decomposing fibrous substances (a folded sweater from the lieutenant’s own pack of personal belongings) in his Abdominal Cavity so that the aforementioned Cavity would not look so visibly vacant and shrunken under his uniform when viewed by the men — I prepared to sew the abdominal Cavity back up as best I could (there was much tissue destroyed or missing).

  But first I hesitated and Decided to do something unusual.

  I opened Lieutenant Irving’s stomach.

  There was no real Postmortem Examinatory Reason to do this. There was no doubt of the Cause of the young lieutenant’s death. There was no reason to check for Disease or Chronic Conditions — we are all suffering from Scurvy to one extent or the other, and we are all slowly Starving to Death.

  But I opened his Stomach anyway. It looked strangely Distended — more so than bacterial action and the resulting Decomposition would suggest in this extreme cold — and no postmortem examination would be complete without an Inspection of this Anomaly.

  His stomach was full.

  Very shortly before Lieutenant Irving’s death, he had ingested Large Quantities of Seal Meat, some Sealskin, and much Fatty Blubber. The Digestive Process had barely begun working on it.

  The Esquimaux had Fed him before they Murdered Him.

  Or perhaps Lieutenant Irving had Bartered his Telescope, valise, and few personal possessions in the Valise in exchange for this Seal Meat and Blubber.

  But that is not possible, since Caulker’s Mate Hickey reported that he saw the Esquimaux Murder and Rob the Lieutenant.

  Seal Meat and Fish were on the Esquimaux Sled that Mr. Farr brought back, using it to transport Lieutenant Irving’s body. Farr reported that they had thrown other objects off the Sled — baskets, Cooking Pots of some sort, things Lashed above the Seal Meat and Fish — so as to better situate the Lieutenant’s corpse on the light
sled. We wanted to make Lieutenant Irving as comfortable as possible, was what Sergeant Tozer had said.

  So the Esquimaux must have first offered him their food, allowed him time to Eat it — if not Digest it — and then repacked their sled before Falling Upon him with such Savagery.

  To approach someone as a Friend and then to Murder and Mutilate him so — can we Believe that there is a Race so Treacherous and so Malevolent and so Barbarous?

  What could have Prompted this sudden and Violent change of attitude on the part of the Natives? Could the Lieutenant have said or done something that violated their Sacred Taboos? Or did they simply want to Rob him? Was the brass Telescope the reason for Lieutenant Irving’s terrible Death?

  There is another possibility, but one so Heinous and so Unlikely that I hardly wish to Record it here.

  The Esquimaux did not kill Lieutenant Irving.

  But this makes no sense either. Caulker’s Mate Hickey clearly stated that he SAW six to eight of the Natives assailing the Lieutenant. He SAW them steal the Lieutenant’s valise, telescope, and other possessions — while strangely they did not find his Pistol or go through his other pockets. Caulker’s Mate Hickey told Captain Fitzjames today — I was present during the discussion — that he, Hickey, WATCHED from a distance as the Savages disemboweled our friend.

  Hickey Hid and Watched as all this went on.

  It is still pitch-dark and very Cold, but Captain Crozier is leaving in twenty Minutes to take a few men the Several Miles to the Site of the Murder and of today’s Deadly Skirmish with the Esquimaux. Presumably their bodies are still Lying in the Valley there.

  I have just completed Stitching Lieutenant Irving. As tired as I am — I have not slept for more than 24 Hours — I will have Lloyd finish the dressing of the Lieutenant and make final preparations for his burial later Today. As Providence would have it, Irving brought his Dress Uniform in his bag of personal possessions from Terror. He will be dressed in that.

  I am going now to ask Captain Crozier if I may accompany him, Lieutenant Little, Mr. Farr, and the others to the Murder Site.