A Recount on the Whereabouts of the Eternity Machine

The following letter is an account of a nautical journey that our scientist, Dr Milward, received after the issue of being unable to locate his most recent invention which was previously believed to have been a fantasy. Since we have confirmed that the invention exists, we are currently looking into its whereabouts. This is an emergency situation. The item must be located as soon as physically possible.

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Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean,

11th January, 1851

Dr Milward,

As you know, aboard our ship we have in our possession your latest invention: The Eternity Machine. When we met upon land you had given me instructions of tying it down and bolting the door so that nobody could get inside. Unfortunately, I will have to say that I may have tied the machine down but because of not believing in your project actually working - I refused to bolt the door. For this, I would like to apologise. But you must understand that after being told that this giant black box holds a series of injections into the body that extend human life indefinitely unless the body be decapitated, it sounded like a tough story at best, to put my faith in. Our endeavour was behind by a few days and so, we required to take it out of the harbour as soon as we could. My crew and I therefore left the door unbolted. You may now be wondering why I am writing to tell you of an unbolted metal door and this recount of last week’s events will make that clearer.

On the third day of January I had chosen to give my crew a day off for having done so much work so soon after Christmas. Taking to the sea and saying goodbye to their families on such short notice because of the delay was something I found to be admirable. I promised them that the third day of January, the day after our docking in the first harbour to stock transportable foods, was going to be our day of rest. They were ecstatic except for two men named James and Nathaniel. James had been off the ship and loading it with the necessary food required for transportation and Nathaniel had immediately come down with a strange feverish sweat. I told James that since the two men were best friends, that he should consider it his duty to take care of Nathaniel. James agreed and took to a private room I provided so that the case of sickness would not spread amongst the men.

That night, once Nathaniel had managed to get some sleep, James was nowhere to be found. I inspected the ship to find most of the men had retired to their beds and yet, James was seated in storage, looking at your strange invention. “Does it work?” He asked me and me, being a sceptic told him not to be ridiculous. I admit that I had no faith in your machine and, when it was first proposed to me that I would secretly need to move it across the Atlantic Ocean I threw a fuss.

“You have no ground to complain here, Captain Campbell.” I remember the day exactly when your men came to tell me I had no choice but to put it aboard my ship. I felt betrayed. I transported foods and spices from one place to the other and now, I was being tasked with carrying a top secret invention to the United States of America. It took up so much room, I had to leave several boxes of goods behind, cutting my pay. I still hold you accountable for that.

James sat there for a couple of nights, every night, staring at the machine. As a young man, he was fresh out of farming and wanted a job where he could be outside all the time. Once his father had passed away, the mother sold the farm and the children were left to do whatever they would. James’ sister passed away in childbirth and he told he wished to be upon the sea as to not be reminded on his grief.

After James had left for his room one night, I noticed that the door to the machine was wide open and because I was a sceptic, I simply shut it and moved on. Visiting Nathaniel’s room, it was clear his condition was deteriorating quickly. It was even more clear that this man would be dead in a day or so. He was pale, thin and he knew the end was coming. He had been dreadfully sick for three days at this point and most of the men were surprised he was in fact, still alive. My second mate would speak to me about the symptoms and how there was no way this man could live as long as he had been. It was this conversation that brought my attention back to the open door.

I burst into the room as James sat for yet another night in front of that machine and asked him what he had done. “Nothing, sir.” He simply replied. I interrogated him about the door being left open. “I thought you said it didn’t work. So what was the harm in trying? He’s the only friend I have.” I ran up the stairs and into Nathaniel’s room to find him at death’s door. But not dead. No, he was not dead.

Vomiting continuous streams of blood and bile, cuts and bruises perforating on his body and his eyes sunken like the grave, Nathaniel may have only lived a few days after his time, but that was enough to make him beg me for death. I asked him about what had happened and here is what he told me in the best way I can recall it:

“Sir…He said it would make me better. But all it does…Is it makes me suffer…the suffering never stops…I don’t understand how I’m still alive…I can’t have this much blood in me…I can’t survive like this…Please sir, please kill me…I will write a note and sign it too…So you don’t go to jail or nothing…Please…”

His words coming out in a splutter of blood which circled his lips ;the inside of his mouth was blackened by dried blood like a building burned. He groaned and exhaled breath, when he moved his bones cracked and creaked. His body was growing thin and limp, the skeleton beneath perfectly visible. I had never seen a man pray for death before. This is where I began to believe in your invention but, at what cost would it come to two men who had simply tried it out. One wanting to keep the other alive as he had nobody else to befriend. But it did not simply stop there.

When the sun came up, I confronted James about the experiment he had done with the machine on Nathaniel. “You don’t understand sir…he’s my friend.” I told him that I was aware and though that was the case, it is also clear that Nathaniel should have died already. Populating the floor of his bedroom were buckets filled with vomited blood. It was not natural to keep this man alive. I asked James to explain to me how it was done. He stated that inside this machine was a seat on which the person should sit very still. “There were lots of sharp things in there, so I thought it was best if Nathaniel stayed as still as possible.” He then continued to recount how he shut the door and told Nathaniel to flick a switch which is inside. “There was a switch that was small and grey, you could barely see it. But I had a feeling that is what made it work.” Within moments, Nathaniel’s transformation was complete. “It made a noise, like a bell, but it was quieter.” He then got Nathaniel out of the machine and back to his bedroom. After Nathaniel fell asleep, James came back down and sat in front of the machine. It was what he told me next that was surprising. “I used it on myself too, sir…It’s not fair for Nathaniel to go through that alone. He’s not an experiment. We should both have to do it.” The world may not be made of good intentions but there was something deeply moving here, even if it rendered horrific results.

That night I went back to Nathaniel’s room and he had deteriorated even more. His skin was now peeling from his body and I can confirm that his body was not simply sick. His body had died. It was in a state of decay whilst he, the man, was still alive. “Please…sir…” was all he could say now. I wept and nodded. I knew what I had to do. I sought out an axe which is usually used for chopping large and thick rope or wood. I then made my way back to the room in which Nathaniel was laying in wait, hoping I had made up my mind. When I brought in the axe, I have to say it was the first time I had ever seen a man in so much horrific pain give a smile.

I brought it down upon his neck several times, severing his head from his body entirely. Blood covered the room from the buckets he had vomited to the bed on which his body now lay separate to his skull. The sight was worse than any nightmare or war I have ever seen. There was simply so much blood. I sighed relief at the fact that Nathaniel was now out of his terrible existence between life and death.

I was about the wash and replace the axe when I heard an awful scream of terror. Rushing towards the sound, I found it was coming from James who spun around on his heels as he stood outside Nathaniel’s room - the door wide open. “What did you do?” He shouted. “What have you done? You’ve killed him!” I explained to him that it was the only way and that Nathaniel had begged me to kill him but of course, those who are young and volatile do not like to hear this truth. It would not be until the sun came up again that I would learn that James had stolen a box containing heavy items and tied it to himself, throwing himself into the ocean - unaware of what he had done.

I know that there is every possibility that James today is still alive at the bottom of the ocean somewhere, tied to a massive box of foods. I know that there is a certainty that his body is going through extreme torture whilst his mind and spirit are being kept alive and knowing. This is the price he must pay and even though we are many, many miles from him - I know he will accept this as his burden. He can no longer run from his grief.

And this is the reason for my letter to you. I have seen your machine work in action to prolong human life and I have seen what it can do to people’s emotions not simply about their own demise but the demise of those they hold dear. It is for this reason that we have chosen as a crew to change course and not inform you about our current whereabouts. I will consult with whoever is looking to offer the largest sum of money to reimburse my troubles about having this machine delivered to them. And just so you know I’m not bluffing - next week you will receive the severed head of shipmate Nathaniel Foreman. By the time you read this, we will be far away.

Captain William S. Campbell