The Map of the Sky (Trilogía Victoriana #2)(30)
“Captain, I think we need to talk about the strategy we should follow in the current circumstances.”
“The strategy we should follow?” MacReady repeated in astonishment, looking Reynolds up and down as if he had just walked in wearing a clown’s outfit. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“It is very simple, Captain. As organizer of this expedition, I am the one in charge of any discoveries we might make along the way, and although we are clearly no closer to finding the passage to the Hollow Earth than we were when we left New York, we are nevertheless on the brink of one of the most significant discoveries in the History of Mankind, one that I believe requires us to establish a plan of action and a set of criteria.”
MacReady carried on gaping at the explorer for a few moments before throwing his head back and letting out a loud guffaw. Spluttering, he dried his eyes with his chubby fingers and, regaining his composure, declared, “For Heaven’s sake, Reynolds: you never cease to amaze me! So you want us to discuss criteria . . . Well, mine are very simple. As soon as that thing, whatever it is, shows its ugly face around here, my men and I will shove a musket up its backside, cut its head off as a memento, and providing its flesh isn’t too disgusting, we’ll feed it to the dogs. That’s my plan of action in the current circumstances. In the meantime, if you wish to carry on playing explorer, be my guest, only kindly do it in the confines of your cabin so that you don’t get in the way.”
Reynolds had to make a supreme effort to keep calm. He knew the captain would not make it easy for him, but he had gone there with a clear purpose, and he refused to allow MacReady’s continual provocation to deflect him. He took another sip of brandy and waited for a few moments before responding, resorting this time to flattery.
“Captain,” he said, “you are not a simple drunken sailor, like the rest of the crew. You are a gentleman, an experienced ship’s captain, and intelligent enough I am sure to grasp the magnitude of what is going on. I have been speaking with Sergeant Allan, who as you know is a man of letters, well versed in, er, astronomy, and he agrees with me that the creature doubtless comes from Mars. Do you realize what this thing is we are fighting? A Martian, Captain! A being from another planet! I refuse to believe you do not appreciate the enormous significance of such a discovery and how reckless it would be of us not to consider carefully every possible alternative. Allow me to give you an example: if we kill the creature before communicating with it, how will we know where it comes from? And more importantly, if all we take with us to New York is a strange animal’s head, how will we prove the thing really is from another planet? It won’t give scientists much to go on, will it, Captain? And this leads to my next request. I would like you to organize another expedition to the flying machine.”
“Are you out of your mind?” said MacReady, genuinely taken aback. “I’ve no intention of sending my men out there with that thing lurking in the snow. I would be sending them to their death. Besides, that machine is impossible to open, we can’t even touch it, or perhaps you’ve forgotten what happened to you.” MacReady tilted his chin toward the explorer’s still-bandaged hand. “And anyway, why the devil would we want to do that?”
“Primarily because if we manage to get inside the machine we will probably find some information about the creature that is attacking us,” Reynolds explained patiently. “This could prove essential if on the one hand the creature’s intentions are peaceful and we simply need to learn how to communicate with it, and on the other if they are not, because we may find some clue as to how to destroy it, a weapon even.” Seeing that the captain was still staring blankly at him, Reynolds realized he must take a different approach, and so he tried enticement. “Supposing that were the case—I mean, supposing we had no choice but to kill the creature, and, assuming we succeeded, and then the ice thawed and we sailed home, don’t you think we would be entitled to some compensation for all we had been through? For I assure you, if we arrive in New York with the Martian’s head, together with some proof from the machine that this is indeed a being from another planet, we will be showered with more money and recognition than you can imagine.”
“I still don’t know if you are a visionary, a complete idiot, or both, Reynolds,” MacReady said. “To begin with, I don’t understand how you can go on doubting the creature’s intentions after the courteousness he showed poor Doctor Walker. I assure you I need no further proof. I know exactly how we should communicate with that thing. As for the flying machine, how the devil do you intend to get inside it? Through sheer brain power?”
“I don’t know, Captain,” Reynolds confessed, irritated by the officer’s mocking tone. “We could try blowing it up with dynamite . . .”
The captain shook his head, as though he were conversing with a lunatic, and a sullen silence descended on the two men. Reynolds tried to think. He was running out of ideas.
“I’ve never understood men like you, Reynolds,” MacReady suddenly murmured, gently swirling his brandy. “What is it you want? To be remembered by History? Of what use is that to a God-fearing Christian once the maggots have finished with him? I told you the other day, Reynolds: I don’t give a fig about your Hollow Earth. The same goes for that creature’s origins. It could come from Mars or Jupiter or any other planet for all I care. My job is to bring this ship and her crew safely back to New York, and I’ll be well paid if I do. That’s all I care about, Reynolds: saving my skin and getting my money.”