This is Chapter 45 of Who Brought the Steak Tartare?, you may want to go back to Chapter 44 or start at the beginning.
45
Richards sought out Greenstockings, but Back seemed always to be around. Although she dared not openly evince any suspicion that she thought him guilty of killing his fellow crew members,1 her suspicions had been aroused. Because she had been taking Akaitcho’s meals to him, she was privy to the fact that in his weakened state, Akaitcho had ceased making trips to the toilet, urinating there in his bunk. The fact that he was found in the toilet raised doubts in her mind. Ge Ge’s death, following so rapidly after, alarmed her greatly. She wanted to speak with Greenstockings about Ge Ge, but Back carefully avoided leaving them alone together. He was evidently afraid of permitting them to converse in private.2
Richards passed the night without rest, being constantly on her guard.3 Twice she ventured out of her sleeping chamber to visit Greenstockings, but Back was always there, floating about in the corridor. Some hours before their daily meal, he finally went to his chamber to sleep. Richards brought Greenstockings to the galley to speak in private for the first time since Ge Ge’s death. She did not know how long she had before Back woke up.
‘I think Ge Ge may have been murdered,’ said Richards.
‘I know that he didn’t kill himself!’ said Greenstockings. ‘I knew him better than that. He was a fighter.’
‘Have you noticed George acting odd lately?’
‘I’m more afraid of John,’ said Greenstockings. ‘At least George comes out of his sleeping chamber. John doesn’t come out anymore except to eat.’
Neither of them mentioned Hood, who was so affected with dimness of sight and giddiness, and other symptoms of extreme debility that Back was compelled to help him out of his bunk and to lead him to the galley each day for their meal.4
‘I don’t think John is a killer.’
‘Just ‘cause he’s cheerful, doesn’t mean he’s harmless,’ said Greenstockings. ‘Why’s he always hiding in his room?’
‘Look,’ said Richards. ‘I don’t know, but whoever it is, I think he’s done waiting. I think he’s going to try to kill again the first chance he gets.’5
‘What are we going to do?’
Both Richards and Greenstockings were aware that they were not in a condition to resist even an open attack, much less one from an unknown quarter.6
‘We have to get help,’ said Richards.
‘But, who?’
‘We’ve got to pick.’
Suddenly, Back entered the galley with Hood in tow, and they were forced to abandon their discussion.
‘What’re you talking about?’ Back asked cheerfully.
‘You sound like you’re in a good mood,’ said Richards.
‘I am in a good mood,’ said Back. ‘Something about John finding those rations gave me some hope. We aren’t finished yet!’
‘I was thinking about those rations, too,’ said Richards. ‘Why weren’t they freeze-dried like all the others?’
‘The steak tartare wasn’t freeze-dried, either,’ said Back. ‘Maybe it had something to do with preserving the texture.’
‘It didn’t work very well,’ said Greenstockings. ‘That stuff tasted horrible, and it made poor Robbie sick.’
‘I think we need to talk about another thing, while we’re on the subject of rations,’ said Back. ‘We’ve got two bodies down there in Matthew’s room. When are we going to start using them?’
‘If you want to talk about that, we should go get John, too,’ said Richards. ‘It’s a decision all of us need to make together.’
‘Forget him!’ Back snapped. ‘He’s always in his bunk. Let him stay there! I say we cut the bodies up. What do you say, Robbie?’
From the expression on his face, it was clear that Hood looked on Back as the instrument chosen by God to preserve all their lives.7
‘I think we should eat them,’ said Hood.
‘We don’t have to become cannibals, eating each other!’ said Richards.8
‘You’re just being sentimental,’ said Back.
‘Sentiment is what keeps us from becoming animals,’ said Greenstockings.9
‘We are the people here!’ Back screamed. ‘Not those dead bodies down there. They’re not people anymore. We are dying! Can’t you see that? This isn’t wrong! If anything’s wrong, it’s not eating them—letting ourselves starve while there is perfectly good meat down there. If we aren’t going to eat all the food we have, there’s no use in eating anything. You might as well just kill me.’10
‘Like you killed Ge Ge?’ said Greenstockings quietly.
A strange, ferocious expression crossed Back’s face.
‘You killed all of them, didn’t you?’ said Richards.
‘They died so that we could live,’ said Back, grinning. ‘I’m as much a savior as I am a murderer.’
‘Since when did killing people save them?’
‘I’m not the only one who ate them!’ shouted Back. ‘When I killed Lu, I cut up his body and put it in those sachets. That’s why the steak tartare was vacuum packed. I had to do it in the shower to keep you all from freaking out. And Ge Ge? He became Fancy Japanese Shashimi. I’m not selfish, you see. I’ve been sharing all along. Cannibalism is actually the only thing that’s been keeping us together!11 Now, I’m going to go down there and cut some steaks. Don’t try to stop me. There’s no cutting me off once I start cutting!’12
Back turned to the corridor, dragging Hood with him.
Richards knew that there was no safety for any of them except in Back’s death.13 She quickly scoured the galley for something to use as a weapon.
‘What are you going to do?’ whispered Greenstockings.
‘I’m going to put an end to this,’ said Richards, seizing a pair of scissors from the medical cabinet. ‘When we get down there, start pounding on John’s door. I’ll do my best to keep Back away. Maybe all of us together can stop him.’
Chapter 46 tomorrow, same time, same place.
Footnotes
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Although I dared not openly to evince any suspicion that I thought Michel guilty of the deed, yet he repeatedly protested that he was incapable of committing such an act, kept constantly on his guard, and carefully avoided leaving Hepburn and me together. John Richadson “The Account Drawn up and Transmitted Home,” 1821 ↩
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He was evidently afraid of permitting us to converse in private and whenever Hepburn spoke he inquired if he accused him of the murder. John Richadson “The Account Drawn up and Transmitted Home,” 1821 ↩
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We passed the night in the tent together without rest, everyone being on his guard. John Richadson “The Account Drawn up and Transmitted Home,” 1821 ↩
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Mr. Hood was much affected with dimness of sight, giddiness, and other symptoms of extreme debility. John Richardson, “The Account Drawn up and Transmitted Home,” 1821 ↩
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I came to the conclusion that he would attempt to destroy us on the first opportunity that offered. John Richadson “The Account Drawn up and Transmitted Home,” 1821 ↩
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Hepburn and I were not in a condition to resist even an open attack, nor could we by any device escape from him. Our united strength was far inferior to his and, beside his gun, he was armed with two pistols, an Indian bayonet, and a knife. John Richadson “The Account Drawn up and Transmitted Home,” 1821 ↩
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We looked on Michel as the instrument he had chosen to preserve all our lives. John Richardson, 9 October 1821 ↩
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We do not have to be cannibals, consuming each other! Jack Forbes, Columbus and Other Cannibals, 1992 ↩
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To abandon the sentiment of humanity is not merely to renounce civilization and to relapse into barbarism, it is to share in the blindness of the most brutish brigands and savages; it is to be a man no longer, but a cannibal. Francois Fenelon, Dialogue des Morts, “Socrate et Alcibiade,” 1718 ↩
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It is no use hunting, there are no animals, you had better kill and eat me. Michel Terohaute, attributed by John Richardson, “The Account Drawn up and Transmitted Home,” 1821 ↩
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Cannibalism alone unites us. Oswald De Andrade, Cannibalistic Manifesto, 1928 ↩
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There’s no cutting me off when I start cutting. Akira Kurosawa, Seven Samurai, 1954 ↩
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Hepburn and I were now left together for the first time since Mr. Hood's death, and he acquainted me with several material circumstances which he had observed of Michel's behaviour and which confirmed me in the opinion that there was no safety for us except in his death, and he offered to be the instrument of it. John Richadson “The Account Drawn up and Transmitted Home,” 1821 ↩