Prolog
"Below the 40th latitude there is no law: below the 50th no god: below the 60th no common sense and below the 70th no intelligence whatsoever."
-Kim Stanley Robinson
April 5th, 1848
North Pole
It had been a long and hard winter. One of the rare times where the ice remained frozen even through the summer months. It was just another factor of life here that Alignak and his people had to endure day by day. Alignak was an Inuit, having been born onto the ice about nineteen winters before. He was his tribes youngest hunters, but he was strong and the most patient. Some of his tribe believed that one day he would lead the tribe, but he had no ambition for such things.
He had urges to venture beyond the ice, to reach the "civilized" lands. To the lands of the British, the lands where great ships are build and sent on missions across the great sea. In search of things that baffled Alignak, but also fascinated him.
These urges were kept in check by his responsibilities to his people, one which he was fulfilling as he urges his sled dogs onward across the snow and ice. He had been out hunting that day for the Seals that populated below the ice that often came onto the surface thru holes they used for rest and air. Little did he know that everything he knew of the "civilized" lands was about to changed, and that the terror he would meet would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.
The way home was easy enough, the ice was still solid. His suit of Caribou and Seal skin made him feel quite warm against the frigid air of the Arctic. As he scanned the horizon he spotted something in the distance. A shape that seemed out of place on the ice. He had to get the three seals back to his people, but he had some time before he was expected to return. So he allowed his curiosity to take the best of him, and urged his sled dogs to begin turning right, and straight towards the unknown shape.
As his dogs ran forward, he could see the outline of what it was, and the sight filled his heart with a sense of wonder. It was one of the great ships of the "civilized" lands. Its hull was white from the blast of snow and ice that is often blown by the winter winds. Its hull was white from the snow, and its mast looked to be covered in icicle that grew this way and that, where ever the wind blew. It was magnificent. Maybe there would be "civilized" people aboard that he could speak to and learn from.
With only twenty lengths between him and the ship, his sled dogs suddenly stopped. Alignak nearly was thrown off as his sled skidded to a halt. The dogs were backing away from the vessel, whimpering or snarling as if frightened by a predator. One of the dogs was shaking so violently that it wet itself. Alignak stepped off the sled and checked them all one by one. Each looked fine, but they just refused to go forward.
At least they had gotten him close enough to walk. Before departing he drove a stake made of Caribou bone into the ice and tied the sled off to make sure the dogs did not run. With that done he turned and began walking towards the vessel. The ship was sitting at an odd angle, caused by the ice constantly shifting beneath his feet. There was a mound of snow towards the side of the ship that leaned closest to the ice. It looked to have been piled up so that someone could get off and on the ship with ease.
Climbing onto the deck he could feel his heart racing with sudden excitement, but deep in his soul a voice spoke to him, warned him that he had to leave this place and never return. That something was terribly wrong. He ignored it, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him. As he walked across the deck he saw signs of recent labor. Where there should be hatches to go below deck it looked as though someone had boarded them up from the outside. The only way in he could see was near the back of the ship. A door to the unknown.
As he approached the door he suddenly stopped to listen. Below his feet he thought he had heard knocking sounds, but the only noise that greeted him was the wind. Probably was nothing, he thought as he crossed to the door. Without hesitation her reached for the handle and turned it. To his surprise the door opened with ease. Crossing the threshold he found he was inside a cabin of some sort. There was a long desk with papers scattered about it, and a single lite candle. He did not know how to read the language of those who owned this vessel, but he could speak their language. He was drawn to the picture on the walls, faces of people and things he had never seen before.
Suddenly his revelry was broken by the sound of knocking. He turned and looked, seeing a closed door that he guessed went deeper into the vessel. The noise had come from that way, so that way he would go. He took one of the lite candles from the massive table to help reveal the way and approached the door. He felt that feeling of dread once more as if part of him wanted to run from this place.
As he opened the door he was suddenly hit by a foul smell that nearly made him gag. It was like the smell of meat that had long ago began to rot away. He stepped through the doorway, the faint light could be seen from flickering lanterns. It was a bunk room of some sort. In the bunks, with their backs to him he could see what looked to be people sleeping. The smell in this place was so intense. His boots seemed to be sticking to the floor. Looking down he saw dark stains across the wooden deck. It only to him a moment to realize what it was. Blood.
His eyes went wide, terror and panic filling his mind as he finally truly saw his surroundings. Strewn about the bunks were bones of animals and men. Much of the bones were covered in teeth marks, some were shattered as if to get to the marrow within. He grabbed hold of a bunk in an attempt not to faint, but it gave way and the body within rolled out onto the floor. The face he saw would scar Alignak's memory for as long as he lived.
The face of the person was stained black from frost bite. The eyes had turned a milky color with stains of red, but it was that mouth that was most horrifying. The teeth were all pointed, like that of a bear. This was no longer a man. It was a creature that came from a place beyond his greatest nightmare.
Alignak jumped as the sound of banging could be heard from deeper within the ship. A door on the other side of the barracks seemed to bend in rhythm of the banging. Its frame groaned under protest, its old hinges creaked as whatever was beyond seemed to desperately want out. Then with a final Bang the door flung open revealing darkness beyond.
Alignak looked towards the on with trepidation. Not even the light from the lanterns could penetrate the darkness beyond. From the beyond the door heavy breathing could be heard. A deep, guttural, breath like a sleeping bear. Two specks of light appeared near the top of the door frame, like the eyes of some animal in the darkness, staring into Alignak's very soul with the intensity of a predator stalking its prey. From the void, beyond a growl tore into the silence like a blade slicing through seal blubber.
Suddenly there was movement around Alignak as the bodies within the bunks began to slide from their positions. Their heads turning towards him, each face a horror all unto its own. Tears in their flesh like that of an animal. Some were little more than eyes and teeth. On the ground the body that had fallen suddenly sat up. Its lips parted and a sickening moan exited its mouth.
It was only then that Alignak truly understood what had happened to this crew, to these "civilized" men. They had become monsters. As the bodies moved towards him, he looked frantically about for a way out of this hell. Back to the ice, back to his family. His parents and siblings. Away from the "civilized" people. Away from their curse, their hell.
Suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him backwards. Alignak screamed and spun around to fight the monster that was upon him, but he looked into the face of a white man. "Run! Now!" the white man shouted, and Alignak did not argue. He ran with the man back through the door, back into the room with the big table. The white man slammed the door shut and began lifting boards to nail over the entrance. "HELP ME!" the man screamed. Alignak ran forwards and took hold of the board as the white man began to seal the entrance. Then the banging began once more as fist pound on the other side of the entrance, but the wood was thick and sturdy. With all luck it would hold.
Alignak looked towards the white man. His hair and beard were long and scraggly, his face shrunken in from lack of food, but his eyes were green and sharp. Alignak had so many questions for this man, but knew as the door creaked and groaned under the intense persistence of the monsters within that now was not the time.
As the final board was nailed into place, Alignak and the white man stepped away, looking upon the entrance as if it would burst open and allow what was within to spill out, but it seemed the barricade was holding. Finally they both relaxed as it seemed the sturdy door would hold.
The White man turned and placed his hands upon the large table, bowing his head in silence. After a time, seeming to be listening to that insistent pounding, the man turned to Alignak and nodded. "Thank you… I wish there was more time to explain but." The man went quiet, suddenly striding towards Alignak.
The white man grabbed Alignak by the shoulder of his jacket and dragged him onto the top deck of the ship. Below the pounding of fist sounded like incessant knocking. The man led Alignak to the top platform of the ship and pointed out across the ice. In the distance the shapes of tents could be seen, "There…. You must never go there!" The white man spun Alignak around, looking him straight in the eye. Alignak could see the terror and madness that haunted the man. "Now you must leave! Go back to your people! Tell them, WARN them, of this place"
The man shoved Alignak towards the spot where he had climbed onto the ship. Alignak needed no encouragement as he rushed for the snow pile. Running across the ice towards the sled dogs he felt as though he was being hunted. As quickly as he could manage, Alignak untied the sled from its holding and at once the dogs were running away from the ship. They just nearly left Alignak behind before he jumped on board.
He did not know what it was that terrorized that place, but hoped that it would never be seen again by him or his people.
William watched as the Inuit man fled from the ship on the sled pulled by his dog team. He did not move from that place until the sled was out of sight. William sighed, and turned from the entrance to the commanding officers quarters.
Moving towards the table, and pulled a stole off the ground and sat upon it, simply staring at the door he had sealed with nail and boards. He reflected upon this vessels foolish efforts to find the North West Passage. How tragedy after tragedy had befallen the crow, up to this point. Yet threw out the voyage, the Captain had ordered them to press on threw this frozen hell. By Gods will, he hoped that those monsters that had once been his fellow crew mates would be contained forever.
Even as these thoughts passed through his mind, he felt a sudden pain on his right side. Instinctively he place his hand over the bandage wrapping, his thoughts on the ragged patch of flesh hidden beneath. He remembers not Midshipman Wallace had turned into a monster, and bit down upon his side. William knew what that meant, and knew he had little time before he became one of the monsters himself. There was one thing left to do before the end.
Looking across the old and battered table he saw the ink, quill, and the Captains old journal. He began flipping through the pages, through all the tales of misery and pain that had befallen this failed venture. As he opened to a blank page he began to write.
April 5th, 1848
I, Lieutenant William Alexander Hamilton the Third, am the sole survivor of the HMS Orion. The tale as to how we have befallen our fate is written in this log, but I needed to set many facts straight in the event that this ship is ever found.
The expedition did not fail because of the Captain. It failed because of arrogance in the belief we could conquer the Arctic. A belief that our mighty British Empire will prevail over all continents, but now I know there are things in this world that will never be conquered. One of which has invaded the ship, and possessed the crew.
As I look back upon the events since this terror has revealed itself, I realize that our terror began as a miracle. One of our ship mates, Private James Whitely, made frequent excursions out onto the ice. Always he returned with meat from seals and other snow beast. This came at a cost, as he began to distance himself from the rest of us. Speaking in strange tongues and of terrifying things.
It wasn't for another month that we discovered he was eating the flesh of our dead, frozen within the snow. Upon this discovery, several members of the crew took matters into their own hands and killed Private Whitely. He never screamed once as he was beaten to death.
As the ships hold was empty, and always seemed to be as cold as it was outside, the captain ordered the bodies of our crew to be further more stowed below deck as to prevent such happenings again. Shortly after the men who had beaten Private Whitely began to fall ill with a strange disease. It starts out as a fever, but rapidly begins to progress into the skin blackening and eyes whitening, and finally death. Only they did not remain dead.
The night of their deaths, their bodies had vanished without explanation or witnesses. The next day they returned to the ship, changed into monsters that craved the flesh of the living, my crew.
Attack after attack, always dragging a member of the crew away. We could not run. We could not hide. If only we had realized that the true terror that plagues us was locked away below. For in his death, Privately Whitely had become the devil himself. We had hoped to use the bodies of our dead crew to lure the infected into a trap, but hidden below deck Private Whitely had become a terror far greater than any we have seen before. It is through him that I have been exposed.
I knew at once what I must do.
As I am the last, it is my responsibility to see that this terror never plagues the world. I know that my time is short, as I can already feel the spread of this vile curse within my body. We had only realized too late that their bites would make us into monsters as well. I must stop this from happening to me.
May God have mercy upon my soul.
Setting the quill aside, William sat back in the chair, looking out onto the ice. Once he had seen it as a place of beauty, a wonder of the world that he so desperately wished to see. Now, in his final moments, he wished he were home. Back on his family's farm in Sunderland England. A good memory to have as he withdrew the Captains prized Sea Service Pistol, already loaded. He could not destroy those that have already changed, but perhaps himself.
August 12th, 1845
North Pole
It has been several months since Alignak had fled the cursed ship and returned to his people. He did as he promised, and warned his tribe. Most did not believe him, but they could tell that Alignak had seen something that had terrified him. They did as he asked, and never searched for that place.
Since that day Alignak has done what he has always done. Hunting for his tribe, and doing what he could for the betterment of his people.
Today that all had to change as a new ship of the "civilized" lands broke its way thru the ice. The crew stopping only to ask questions in regards to a ship they had lost and were searching for. Alignak had considered simply putting everything behind him and forgetting it all.
But he remembered the White Man, and what he had said. To warn those away. With what courage he could muster, Alignak approached the "civilized" people and told them his story. Whether they would heed it or not, only time would tell.
