The Journal of Thomas Gedney
Pete Rawlik
January 24th, 1931
0720
Six months ago I knew the names of eleven men whose lives had been claimed by the frozen hell that we call Antarctica. George Vince died quickly when he slipped off of an ice precipice on Ross Island in 1903. Ten years later and not more than ten miles away Aeneas Mackintosh and Victor Hayward were lost when the sea ice gave way beneath them near McMurdo Sound. Such a death must have been preferable to that of their colleague in the British Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition, Arnold Spencer-Smith whose death by scurvy must have been horrendously slow, much like that of Xavier Mertz. Mertz avoided the crevasse that swallowed and instantly killed his colleague Belgrave Ninnis, and he cleverly avoided starvation by slaughtering his sled dogs. But Mertz consumed too much of the dog’s liver, and died in slow lingering agony from an overdose of vitamin A. Even this must have been preferable to the deaths of Robert Scott and his team of Evans, Oates, Wilson and Bowers. They raced to the South Pole in the winter of 1911-1912 only to learn that Amundsen had beaten them there. On the trek back they succumbed slowly to hunger and the cold. The doctors say Ernest Shackleton died in the South Georgia Islands from heart failure. Those who knew him know that it was the desolate ice and freezing winds that ate at the man that slowly wore him down, before taking him completely. It gives me no pleasure to add eleven more names to that list. Eleven good men, men I knew, men with whom I have worked for the last six months. Lake, Atwood, Mills, Boudreau, Fowler, Orrendorf, Watkins, Moulton, Carroll, Wentworth and Lowe, more than half of the Miskatonic University Expedition, lost not to the ice, not to the cold or wind or even to hunger, but to something else, something ancient and forgotten, something that waits in the ice and kills without remorse.
I have no doubts that some of the expedition survived to carry out the majority of our story. Captains Douglas and Thorfinnssen were supposed to have remained in the harbor at Ross Island. We left one of the Dornier airplanes on Ross as well, with young Sherman, who came to study the glacial squid Psychroteuthius, with two of the more astute of the ship’s men, Gunnarson and Larsen, acting as his assistants. Of the nineteen men who went into the interior of that windswept continent, we left seven at the base camp including the expedition leaders Pabodie and Dyer, two students, Danforth and Ropes, and three mechanics, McTighe, Williamson and Helsing. All good men, I have faith that some survived to tell the world what happened. But none of these men were with us on that strange plateau, none of them saw what we brought up out of the stygian darkness, and none heard the strange keening that shattered the droning silence of the Antarctic and preceded the horrors that would come. They were not there, but I was, and so it falls to me to lay down some record of those events. To tell the world of the fate of those eleven brave men, and the dangers that await mankind as we delve into the forgotten and unknown past of our own small world.
The seeds for what happened, the rift that developed between Pabodie and Lake, and Lake’s near maniacal desire to pursue his own avenues of research, these were planted long before the expedition even arrived at Ross Island. As nominal founders of the expedition, Lake and Pabodie were supposed to come to mutual agreement on staffing issues, but they disagreed on which physicist and geologist to invite along. Lake wanted the more progressive and younger team of McReady and Garry, while Pabodie leaned toward Atwood and Dyer. The impasse was broken when Pabodie used his influence with the Pickman Foundation to set the team leadership as he wanted it. Outraged, Lake threatened to resign completely, mollified only by a last minute negotiation mediated by Atwood, putting Lake in charge of selection of the seven graduate students that would join the team as junior partners. Lake’s selection of three biologists, two physicists/meteorologists, who were both protégés of McReady, one engineer and only one geologist, only served to strengthen the feud. Thus when those first mid-December borings at Mount Nansen brought up slate fragments containing queer triangular imprints, imprints which Lake claimed were unprecedented in the fossil record, it was inevitable that he would demand further investigation.
Pabodie ignored such requests. As an engineer he was more interested in proving the worth of his newly designed drilling apparatus, and in solving the various electro-mechanical problems that arose from the extremes of cold and ice, than in furthering such esoteric research into things long dead. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into a month, Pabodie ran out of problems to solve, and the two student physicists Carroll and Moulton, as well as the geologist Wentworth suddenly joined Lake in pressing for a reconnaissance into the north westward direction. Sensitive instruments had picked up a fluctuation or variation in the local magnetic field, indicating that, in addition to the southern magnetic pole, there was a smaller secondary influence, perhaps a large deposit of iron ore. The discovery of this magnetic source which they jokingly termed Little Magnet would be a significant scientific achievement. That the Little Magnet lay in the same direction as the origin of Lake’s interesting slate formation, argued Wentworth, might not have been entirely coincidental. The same geological activity that had transformed the shale into slate may also have been responsible for the ore deposit. Or both could be the result of the impact of an immense pallasite, a meteorite rich in iron and nickel.
Under pressure from multiple sources Pabodie agreed that both he and Lake would carry out a short reconnaissance using minimal resources, and then evaluate the findings. Thus on January 11th the two seasoned researchers accompanied by the students Carroll, Moulton and Wentworth, as well as the two mechanics Mills and Watkins, set out on six sledges with 42 dogs. They returned on the 18th with the physicists confident in the presence and general direction of their magnetic source and Lake displaying a number of slate samples containing more of the unusual triangular impressions. Of Pabodie’s sprained ankle, Lake’s bruised face and the two missing dogs none would speak, but after ordering that all four planes be made ready under the command of Lake and Atwood, Pabodie retired to his tent and was not seen for most of the next day.
Preparations were completed on January 21st and after a period of rest Lake’s team of twelve men and 37 dogs boarded the four aircraft and at 0400 departed in a northwestern direction guided by the sensitive magnetic instruments operated by Carroll. The sky was clear and calm, which made flying nearly comfortable for passengers confined in the tight and cheerless compartments of the Dornier Whales with not only the sledges and equipment but the dogs as well. A safety precaution instituted by Mills required that each plane carry at least one sledge and seven dogs so that the loss of any one aircraft would not entirely eliminate this method of transportation. At 0545 we had travelled more than 300 miles from our origin and Lake ordered us to the ground. While the physicists set about recalibrating their equipment and refining their calculations, Mills and Fowler began drilling almost immediately with Lake and I inspecting the samples as they came up out of the bore. Meanwhile Watkins and Orrendorf prepared the materials necessary to widen the bore holes into larger shafts.
At 1100, using a combination of thermite and explosives, Watkins widened the shallow bore hole and after clearing away the rubble Wentworth descended and began to deliver samples back to the surface. Lake was ecstatic. The slate samples were ripe with those strange large triangular depressions that he was sure were from some unknown and extinct organism. What’s more, these samples were found to be mixed with fossils that we easily identified as belonging to the trilobite genus Phacopid which flourished in the Devonian. Lake was so stunned by how the number of triangular marks increased dramatically between the two samples that it was left to me to point out the more startling implication. Using fossilized species as a guide, the original samples had been dated back to the Carboniferous period, approximately 300 million years, while the new samples dated back to the Devonian, approximately 400 million years. Whole species, whole phyla, had arisen and gone extinct in that time period. The f
irst rooted plants had moved onto land, as had insects and other invertebrates. The first true sharks had appeared, as had amphibians. Yet while all this had happened across the face of the Earth, those marks, those strange triangular marks had not changed in size or shape whatsoever; their source had remained unchanged for more than one hundred million years. Yet as we tried to comprehend the implications of these unprecedented samples, Wentworth delivered to us yet another sample that shattered all of our preconceived notions of evolution and geological prehistory. Wentworth had sent to the surface yet another piece of slate, this one dotted with the undeniable forms of the Agnostida, trilobites, animals not seen on Earth since the early Cambrian, more than six hundred million years ago. And there amongst the clusters of ancient invertebrates were the unmistakable and undeniable triangular marks of a species that had wandered the Earth apparently unchanged for more than three hundred million years.
At noon Lake made a cursory report to Pabodie via the wireless and then took Atwood aside out of earshot of the rest of the group. When they returned they revealed that they had set about formulating what I would consider the most devious of plans, one that would require the involvement of the entire group and guarantee our place in the annals of science. There was no question in either Lake’s or Atwood’s mind that the group would soon have in its possession a find of either geological or biological significance, possibly both. It was also without doubt that as soon as such a find was reported Pabodie and Dyer would demand that a plane be sent so that they could join the investigation. Once present, Pabodie would inevitably assume not only control but also credit. Lake and Atwood’s notion was to manufacture a storm, to report a gale strong enough to deter any air travel, effectively stranding Pabodie where he was and making sure he got no credit for their work. Not surprisingly, every member of the team readily agreed and the plot to deceive was set in motion.
By 1500 we had broken down our drill site, reloaded the planes, and following the course determined by Carroll and Moulton, headed further northwest. Lake made a short and frantic report about crosswinds and a tremendous gale wreaking havoc with the planes. Dyer immediately responded in protest, but Lake chuckled and replied that new specimens were worth any and all risks. As Lake turned off the radio the three of us erupted into riotous laughter, and Orrendorf passed around a flask of bourbon from which we all drank. In that moment of common deceitfulness I knew the true bonds of brotherhood.
After several hours of flight we reached a vast plateau in the shadow of a tremendous mountain range that Wentworth suggested would rival the Himalayas. Moulton indicated that his instruments needed to be recalibrated and Carroll indicated agreement, so at approximately 2200 we set down on the plateau and estimated our coordinates as 760 15’ and 113o 10’. From the comfort of the ground Lake reported to Pabodie on the massive mountain range using the most hyperbolic of language. Thirty minutes later Lake made contact with Pabodie once more, telling him this time that Moulton’s plane had been forced down and severely damaged. No one had been hurt in the faux crash, but Lake reported that the team was busy transferring equipment in case the Dornier was unsalvageable.
In the meanwhile, Wentworth had begun a series of test borings searching for an appropriate spot to drill more deeply, while I and the others set about making camp and catching several hours of sleep. Once Lake was satisfied that Wentworth had things well in hand, he and Carroll took one of the planes and went up to deploy the magnetically sensitive instruments over those massive peaks in hopes of pinpointing the exact location of the Little Magnet. The plane returned to our camp at midnight with the required data in hand. The secondary magnetic source was, based on calculations, not far from our camp. We could be there in a matter of hours. After some debate, the team decided that I and Lake would continue work at this location, while after several hours of sleep, Atwood, Wentworth, Carroll and Moulton would venture forth in two of the planes in search of their strange magnetic anomaly. Had we only known what was to occur next, we would never have wasted such precious time on redistributing materials amongst the planes.
If Captain Douglas has followed the proper protocols, if Pabodie or Dyer, or any of the expedition has returned to civilization, then the basic facts of what occurred next should be known. However, as our expedition was already committed to a certain level of deception, it should not surprise the reader that certain details reported by our team to the others via the wireless, and then onto the world, were less than accurate. I should also say that the events of that day, January 23rd 1931, are in my mind not entirely clear. The rapid pace of events, my physical and mental exhaustion, coupled with a significant trauma to my head, makes recalling the events of the day and their order extremely difficult. It is my full intent that the account I lay down here shall be as accurate as I can remember it.
Early in the morning Lake reported that our ruse was in jeopardy. A talk with Douglas and Dyer had led to the conclusion that Pabodie, and the rest of the staff would be joining us at our new camp as soon as possible, and that any future transportation to and from Ross Island would be over Lake’s newly discovered mountain range. Sensing that his ability to direct his own research was about to cease, he, Atwood and Carroll quickly prepared one of the aircraft and took off in a desperate search for another perhaps more productive site and the strange magnetic anomaly. In doing so Lake made it clear to me that if the next three hours of test borings did not produce I should be prepared to move to another site.
Given such a short timeframe I quickly reset the drill team to an area about a quarter of a mile away from the camp in an outcropping of soft sandstone. The drilling was easy, and much progress was made with little supplemental blasting. Approximately one hour after we had begun, the rock being brought up suddenly changed. We had apparently run into a vein of Comanchian limestone and almost instantly we were rewarded with the most magnificent of specimens including minute fossils of cephalopods, corals, and other marine invertebrates as well as the occasional suggestion of bones which I recognized as being from sharks, teliosts and ganoid fish. As I marveled at such finds, for these were the first vertebrate fossils we had found during the entire expedition, my attention wavered from the drill and was brought back only when Mills and Orrendorf suddenly began yelling. The drill mechanism had begun oscillating wildly back and forth, kicking up large chunks of rock which were being launched at terrific speeds in all directions. A rock the size of a golf ball flew past and imbedded itself in the ice beside me. Other pieces ricocheted off the drill itself leaving dents and gashes in the casing. Orrendorf had taken refuge behind a case of drill bits, while Mills had taken to cowering behind the spoil mound. Knowing that I was responsible not only for the drill but also for what appeared to be an extraordinary fossil bed, I foolishly ran headlong for the motor engine under the constant pelting by a torrent of rock and ice. I flinched once as something hard caught me in the fleshy part of my cheek, but I carried through with my resolve, reached the gas engine and quickly turned it off.
Without power, the drill slowed down and there arose the most horrendous of sounds. It was a cracking noise, a great cacophony of something ancient shattering, fragmenting into shards and dust as we stood beside it, unable to act. A great cloud arose and the drill, suddenly denied of support, tilted forward, swung wildly and then settled slowly onto its side. When the dust and ice had cleared, we emerged from our various shelters and beheld the most spectacular of sights. A portion of the limestone vein had caved in, creating an opening about five feet across that opened into a shallow hollow. Fearing another cave-in, the three of us cautiously crawled across the ice to the edge of the newly opened cavern and peered down into what had until recently been a stygian darkness. The hollow was no more than eight feet deep but extended off in all directions. The roof and floor were abundant with stalactites and stalagmites, some of which met to form the most spectacular of crystalline columns. But, most importantly, what set me rushing back to greet Lake’s pl
ane was the vast wash of shells and bones that seemed to cover the entire floor of the cavern.
It was just after 1400 when we finished securing the winch and our team carefully lowered down into the cavern. Within minutes all of us had realized that we had discovered what was possibly the greatest cache of paleontological samples ever discovered. We quickly identified the most amazing diversity of specimens I had ever seen including mollusks, crustaceans, primitive sharks, placoderms, thecodonts, mososaur skulls, pterodactyls, archeopteryx, primitive horses and titanotheres. There were however no Pleistocene samples, no mastodons, camels or deer, and thus we concluded that the cavern had not received any new materials for at least thirty million years. But there was a curious abundance of primitive life generally found in the Silurian and the Ordovician, which seemed a tremendous contradiction to the latter, more evolved species and the rock in which they were imbedded, which was without a doubt Oligocene in origin. The fantastical conclusion that we drew from such information was that in some manner the life of more than 300 million years ago had continued unabated and uninterrupted, mixing with the species that we knew had come into existence only about 50 million years ago.
Worlds of Cthulhu Page 19
