by James Gunn
“No joke to him, Barr,” Jelinek said. “He's terrified. It was an illusion. We're all liable to see things. It's when we all see the same thing that it will be too late. Barr, go down and see what it was."
Barr swung himself out of his bunk eagerly. “You bet."
Jelinek snapped. “Mig! Help me get this suit off.” Craddock couldn't seem to move at all. After the suit was removed, he trembled in every muscle. Every few seconds he would cough. Migliardo guided him toward his bunk. As Migliardo strapped him down, Jelinek got a hypodermic from his locker.
“I'll give him some reserpine."
Migliardo said softly, “Did Ted's description remind you of anything?"
“The face Burt saw through the port. It's natural. Suggestion is a powerful force."
Another scream came from the storage deck. Jelinek and Migliardo stiffened, but this was a scream of rage. Barr swarmed into the room along the pole. He hung there like an angry, red monkey. “Somebody tried to kill me!"
“We were all here,” Jelinek said.
Barr's voice rose higher. “Somebody's been messing with the oxygen gauge on my suit. The gauge reads full, but the tank is empty."
“It must have been an accident,” Jelinek said briskly.
“I know who did it,” Barr shouted. “That little sneak lying there.” He pointed a trembling finger at Craddock. “He did it before he said he ruined the water. He wanted me to chase him outside. Then he'd come back and you'd say it was an accident. Too bad."
“That's absurd, Barr!” Jelinek snapped. “Clip on another tank and check around the sounding missiles"
Barr swung toward him viciously. “Unh-unh! Maybe something else is wrong with the suit. It'd be easy to poke a pinhole in one of the joints, jigger a valve ... I'm never gonna use that suit. If you want to kill me, you'll have to do it where I can see you.” He was shaking all over.
Jelinek said, “Mig. Go check."
Mig swung along the pole.
“Barr!” Jelinek said. “Lie down. Read one of your filthy books. Just shut up!” He looked toward Holloway's white face and staring blue eyes. “Burt! Get back on watch!"
An unnatural silence fell over the sphere.
Minutes passed. No one moved. Finally there was the clang of the airlock door and then the sounds of someone stripping off his suit.
“Nothing,” Migliardo said, coming along the pole. “Nothing white. Nothing moving. Nothing."
Beyond the port, the transit of the Earth and moon was proceeding placidly.
VII
Jim Faust was shaking his head as Lloyd turned on the lights. His face was as pale as Holloway's had been. “Bad,” he muttered. “Bad, real bad."
“Remember,” Lloyd said, “that you're seeing the worst of them. They aren't all like that."
“God,” Faust muttered, “how I hate that Barr!"
Lloyd cleared his throat. “He's a good man. He was our extrovert. Balance. If they'd all been like Migliardo or Jelinek, they'd all be insane by now, drawn into fetal positions. Barr gives them something to hate. We didn't figure it that way, but it happened."
Faust said, “You can't live with hate."
“Sometimes,” Lloyd said, “you can't live without it. The Santa Maria has been operational for almost five times as long as the Pinta, for three times as long as the Nina."
“Better isn't good enough,” Faust said.
“In some of the reels we skipped,” Lloyd said, “Jelinek had started psychoanalysis."
Faust said bluntly, “He's not qualified to give it. The man's not sane himself. He can't control Barr. He's already threatened him with death. That's not the act of a sane psychologist. Barr's frightened enough as it is. He has tried to convince himself that the trip is almost over. But he knows this isn't true, and he compensates by acting the petty tyrant. You can't frighten a man who's already scared to death."
“Jelinek has pinned his faith on that sealed panel,” Lloyd said. “Barr threatens that faith. What about Migliardo?"
“Compared to the others, he seems sane. Maybe he's just quiet. He's probably going quietly mad inside. They all have symptoms of paranoia. People are plotting against them, spying on them—"
Lloyd shook his head. “Let's watch the next reel.” Faust and Danton turned their swivel chairs toward the frosted screen as Lloyd flipped off the lights.
VIII
One hundred and thirty-three days out. The Santa Maria coasted silently along the seven-hundred-and-thirty-five-million-mile ellipse that would bring it finally to Mars. Inside the personnel sphere it was silent, too.
The ports were all closed. The room was dark. It was 0300 by ship's time. It was part of the enforced period of inactivity the crew called night in a place where the sun never set, where the night was all about them eternally.
Only the deep, regular breathing of men at sleep could be heard and occasionally a relay clicking on the control deck. Then a dark figure twisted in its bunk and started screaming.
Men tumbled out of their bunks, scrambling in the weightlessness for a handhold.
Migliardo found the light switch, and the room sprang into prosaic reality from its shadowed horror. Jelinek, Barr, and Migliardo were floating in the air. Holloway had pushed himself up in his bunk. He was still screaming.
Jelinek wrapped his thin legs around a stanchion and shook Holloway violently. The navigator's eyes opened blankly as his head flopped. He saw Jelinek. He stopped screaming.
“What the hell happened to you?” Barr asked querulously.
“I had a dream,” Holloway said. “I dreamed I was falling."
“Oh, shit!” Barr said with great disgust. “One of those. I wish I had a cigarette. I'd give my right nut for a cigarette."
Holloway went on as if he hadn't heard. His eyes were distant and remembering. “I dreamed I was dead. I was in a metal coffin, and I was falling. I would never be buried, and so I could never rest. I was dead, but I could still hear and see and feel, and I could never rest because I was in a metal coffin, and I was falling."
Migliardo said quietly, “Aren't we all?"
Barr twisted around fiercely. “Aren't we all what?"
Jelinek said. “We're all in a metal coffin, and we call it the Outward Bound."
Migliardo looked at him. “I finally remembered where I heard that name. It was an old play. A group of people were on this ship, heading for an unknown port. And they finally realized they were all dead."
Jelinek said ruefully, “A man's subconscious plays tricks on him."
Barr had been glancing back and forth between them, a look of horror growing on his face. “What are you guys talking about? We aren't dead."
“No,” Jelinek said. “It's a grisly joke, and one we can't afford."
“Emil,” Holloway said in a quiet and terrible voice. “Emil. Ted's lying there in his bunk. He hasn't moved."
Ted's bunk was next to Holloway's. Jelinek spun around the end of it and caught the aluminum framework. He stared down at Craddock. “Mig. Throw me my stethoscope.” But he didn't wait for it; he put his ear to Craddock's chest. In a moment he let “his head float upright. “Never mind,” he said softly. “He's dead."
Migliardo crossed himself and began murmuring something under his breath. Barr's eyes bulged with terror. Holloway floated over his bunk, shaking, hugging himself.
“I'm cold,” Holloway said vaguely. “Don't you think it's cold in here? The air is bad, too. I think I'm going to be sick."
Jelinek began an inspection of Craddock's body. Suddenly he looked up sharply and glanced around the room as if he were counting them. His lips moved. “Who's on watch?” he asked sharply. “Barr. This is your trick, isn't it?"
“Shepherd offered to take it,” Barr said sullenly.
“He's been standing a lot of your watches, hasn't he?"
“No more than for Burt or Ted.” Barr's voice was shaky. “What killed him?"
“Not what,” Jelinek said slowly. “Who. Ted was murdered.
"
In the silence, Jelinek looked at each of them.
“How do you know?” Barr said. “He was dying. We all knew that He hasn't been able to keep down any food for a month."
“Somebody couldn't wait. He was strangled."
“W-who—” Holloway stammered, “who—who did it?"
Jelinek looked at each of them soberly. “Do we really want to know? If we know, we'll have to do something about it. If we aren't sure, then we can go on pretending."
“And leave a murderer unmarked among us?” Migliardo said. “How can we be sure he won't kill again?” He looked from Barr to Holloway to Jelinek.
Barr said, “Maybe the murderer doesn't even know it. Anybody who'd do a thing like that would have to be crazy. He—he wouldn't necessarily know he had done it."
“That's a good point,” Jelinek said. “Maybe we have a homicidal schizo among us. I think you're right, Mig. We should know. So we can tell the murderer who he is."
“How can you be sure?” Holloway said weakly. “Anybody could have done it. Barr—you were always fighting with him about his coughing and drinking. You said you'd kill him. Now you've done it! Just as you said!"
“Me!” Barr said, outrage in his voice. “What about you? You hated him. You wanted to trade bunks with Mig so you wouldn't have to sleep next to him. Or Mig! You fought with him, too, Mig. He called you a dirty, dago cardsharp"
Jelinek said wearily, “Who didn't fight with him—and with everybody else? Anyway, Ted marked the murderer for us. He was stronger than the murderer thought. He's got skin under his fingernails. A little blood, too. It belongs to the murderer. And the murderer has marks on his arms where Ted clawed him in the final struggle. Everybody hold out their arms."
Holloway was staring at his already; so was Migliardo. Holloway held his arms out eagerly. “No scratches. See? Nothing."
“Mig?"
With an expression of relief, Mig held his arms out.
“You're clean. Iron?"
Barr put his arms behind him. “Let's see yours."
Jelinek held out his arms and turned them over slowly so that the palms were down. They were unmarked. “Iron?"
Barr hesitated. “I scratched my arms yesterday trying on my suit. Somebody has been messing with it again. Somebody's been trying to kill me! That's the one to look for.” The words came spilling from his mouth. “He couldn't get me so he got Ted. Ted was easy. Ted was dying anyway. I'm too tough, so he got Ted. Somebody's been watching us, trying to kill us, and he finally saw his chance."
“Iron?” Jelinek repeated quietly.
“What about Shepherd?” Barr asked eagerly. “Why don't you look at his arms?"
“I don't think we have to look any farther. Anybody who won't show his arms must be sure he's guilty."
Barr said suddenly, “It's a trick. I bet there isn't any skin under Ted's fingernails. You just said that because you saw my arms yesterday when I scratched them.” He pushed himself toward Ted's bunk. “You're trying to trick me into saying I killed him."
“Look!” Migliardo said and pointed at Barr's arm.
On the outside of the arm, just above the wrist, were three long, red, vertical scratches. Serum oozed from them.
Barr hid the arm in front of him. “I didn't kill him!” he shouted hysterically. “I'd remember if I killed him. I don't remember.” His voice trailed away in hysterical sobs.
“What now?” Migliardo asked.
Jelinek's eyebrows lifted. “I suppose we might as well have the funeral."
Holloway said, “What are you going to do with the body?"
Jelinek said, “Give it a spaceman's burial. It's all we can do."
“And have him follow the ship to Mars?” Holloway's voice quavered. “See him floating out there every time we look out?"
“If we give it a good shove,” Jelinek said, “it would be out of sight in a few hours."
“He should be buried,” Holloway muttered. “He won't stay quiet unless he's buried."
Jelinek shrugged. “We'll give him a spaceman's burial—he'd have wanted that. Do you know any of the ceremony, Mig?"
“I'll try."
“Food,” Barr said craftily. “We may run short of food. What's the use of throwing away—"
“If we ever get that desperate,” Jelinek said sadly, “we'll be finished. Unfasten him from the bunk. Bring him to the storage deck."
Barr shoved himself away from the bunk. “Me? I don't want to touch him. Somebody else. I can't do it. Let Shepherd do it."
In a cold, hard voice, Migliardo said, “Tow him over here, Barr, or we'll tie him around your neck."
“No!” Barr whimpered. “No!"
“Take him, Barr,” Holloway said in a thin voice.
Slowly Barr drifted back to the bunk. Moving with great caution, so that he did not touch the body, he released the belt on either side. Slowly he pulled on one strap. The body rolled in the air and followed him. Suddenly the eyelids sprang open. The sightless eyes stared accusingly at Barr.
Barr dropped the strap as if it burned his hand and threw his arm up in front of his face. “Ted!” he screamed. “I didn't do it!"
The body drifted to Jelinek, who was clinging to the fireman's pole. He caught it by one arm. “Barr!"
Moving like a man asleep, Barr turned and pushed himself toward Jelinek. He caught the pole and then took the belt strap in his hand. He went through the hole.
The others followed—Jelinek, Migliardo, Holloway. They formed a circle around the pole. Jelinek straightened out the body so that it lay at their feet. The eyelids refused to close.
Migliardo said, “How about Shepherd?"
“He's on watch,” Jelinek said.
Migliardo cleared his throat. “'Man that is born of woman,'” he said softly, “'hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up and is cut down like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay...’”
They bowed their heads for a moment.
Jelinek looked up. “Get into your suit, Barr."
Barr turned blindly, opened a locker, and put on his suit automatically. When he was ready, Migliardo had the airlock door open.
Jelinek said, “Take the body out. Give it a good shove."
Barr picked up the trailing belt strap and moved clumsily into the airlock. The body stirred. Jelinek guided it into the cylinder.
The clang of the door was a somber note of finality. They stared at it for a moment and then, one by one, they swung along the pole to the living deck.
Holloway turned immediately to one of the ports, opened it, and looked out. “I don't see anything."
Migliardo asked, “What are we going to do with Barr? We can't let him go free."
“Vengeance?” Jelinek asked.
“Common sense. Do you suppose there was really something wrong with his suit?"
Jelinek shook his head gloomily. “Too easy. And too ironic. Justice doesn't work so directly. No, Barr was the only homicidal personality we had aboard. And we're going to have to live with him for the next two years or so. Jolly."
“Can't you—” Migliardo's voice broke, “put him away?"
“No, I can't. I can remember when he was my best friend. He might be that again.” Jelinek's voice dropped. “Barr didn't kill Ted; space did it. How can you condemn a man for something you've considered, rationally, cold-bloodedly, yourself? Could you kill Barr?"
Migliardo hesitated. “No."
“None of us could."
Holloway said urgently, “I don't see them. There's something wrong. There's nothing out there."
The airlock door suddenly clanged. Jelinek looked around the room and then floated quickly to Barr's locker, opened it, and pulled out a small pipe wrench. “Go lie in your bunk, Burt. Hide this. Use it if necessary."
Holloway stared at Jelinek with frightened eyes and then moved to his bunk. He adjusted his straps to the rings and stretched out, the wrench along the leg nearest the wa
ll.
Barr had removed his suit. He came cautiously along the pole.
“Did you shove off the body?"
“Yes.” Barr's eyes shifted to the open port.
“Mig,” Jelinek said quietly. “Check."
Migliardo looked once at Barr and left.
“Barr,” Jelinek said, “what are we going to do with you?"
Barr's muscular hands flexed nervously. “I don't know."
“You might kill again."
“No!” Barr shouted. “I wouldn't. I was only—I swear to you, Emil, I didn't kill him."
“Iron,” Jelinek said, shaking his head, “how can we believe you? How can we trust you?"
He pushed himself away from the wall with one hand. He floated toward Barr. Barr shoved himself back. “Don't try anything!” he said wildly. “I'm warning you. I'll do something. I'll—I'll take care of all of you. I'll kill you, Emil, if you touch me.” His fists were doubled as his back touched the wall close to Holloway's bunk. He started drifting back.
Jelinek moved his hand. The needle of the syrette gleamed.
“You're trying to poison me!” Barr screamed. “I'll kill you—all of you. I'll—"
Holloway brought the wrench down on Barr's head. It made a dull, hollow sound. Barr's eyes rolled back in his head. His body twitched once, and then it was still, floating in the air.
Jelinek said, “Thanks, Burt,” and began towing Barr toward his bunk. He snapped Barr's belt onto the rings. He went to his locker and got a roll of adhesive tape. Carefully he taped Barr's wrists to the framework of the bunk, winding the tape around and around. Then he selected a vein on the inside of Barr's elbow and injected the contents of the syrette.
The airlock door clanged. In a few moments Migliardo came into the room. He took in the situation at a glance. Jelinek was rubbing disinfectant into the cut on Barr's head.
Migliardo said, “He stuffed Ted's body in among the sounding missiles. I shoved it off. I see you took care of—the situation."
Jennek looked up angrily. “For how long? My sedatives will last for thirty days. What do we do then?"
“Maybe when we reach Mars—” Migliardo stopped.
“Can we trust him then?"