S14: Like a Coon-dog sniffing everything

4 Dec: You have to realize, at altitude, this 20,000ft plateau, you are constantly on oxygen. So, to speak, you have to pull out the straw-like hose. You probably want to leave the clip on your nose to avoid inhaling the below-zero air. Thus, you speak in short bursts hoping not to inhale through your mouth or nose. Kind of like trying to eat strong horseradish.

Pilot/Flight-Engineer Pat Miles examined the cracked ski on the Weddell, then through the howling wind almost had to shout, “We’ll have to improvise a lift to get at it. Then it’ll take at least a day to fix.” Yet no-one had problems hearing the painfully disorienting pings and hiss and pulse of Wilbur’s radio, “Shut that damn thing off!” Wilbur apologized, “I had the volume set almost to zero.” James Starkweather stomped forward, “Damn it boy, you played with that thing on the plane. What the hell is it?!” Wilbur looked to Professor Moore to bail him out (who stood silent), “I, I thought I’d try to contact Miss Lexington aboard the Belle, or maybe our main camp.”

Gil Maskill suggested, “I can try reaching them with the plane’s radio. Or we can just try the trail radio.” Static and occasional crackles and pops. “You don’t think they crashed or something?!” Doug Halperin spoke up, “I eyed that German pilot. Don’t worry, he looked more than capable of handling the flight. Besides, between all these mountains it only makes sense the radio waves aren’t getting out.”

William Moore quickly intervened, “Yes, yes. Well forget about them. We’ve a grand city around us which calls for some exploration.” James’ attitude changed as he scanned the city vista around him, “Yes, momentous days await. Treasure, discoveries, marvels, you will be able to write your own professional tickets when we return. Bravo to one and all. Now, gentlemen, what are we waiting for?” Willard Griffith just stood in awe as he soaked in the basalt-rock structures around him. Even he had to exclaim, “My God, it is marvelous.” New to high-altitude climbing, Wilbur spoke up, “How long will our O2 bottles last?” Moore answered that one, “Each bottle should last about 20 hours. Longer if we’re not exerting ourselves. We’ve enough bottles for the 12 of us to stay about 4 days. I hope to leave around the 7^th but no later than the 8^th.”

Starkweather teamed up with Sykes, “Then what are we waiting on?! We’ll climb one of these pyramids and find a high point to shoot a flare for the precious Miss Lexington’s benefit. Everyone meet back here no later than 9pm.” Wilbur momentarily panicked as he felt for the flaregun in his chest pocket. Luckily James retrieved the emergency flaregun from the closer Weddell. Moore teamed up with the archaeologist Charles Myers, “We’ll scout out some of these closer buildings.” 

Robert slapped Willard on the back as he pointed, “Want to go checkout that collapsed tower? Those black basalt blocks look interesting.” Wilbur tagged along. Leaving Oskar, “I’ll stay in camp as a central Medical resource in case anyone has trouble. Plus, I can monitor the pilots’ repair work to insure they take frostbite breaks.”

As James+Sykes moved out with an extra O2 bottle in tow, Pat Miles pulled out his slide-rule, navigation tools, and charts. He measured, marked, and made calculations, “That tailwind that got us here will be a troublesome headwind for our return. Assuming we abandon the weight of the campsite to be replaced by artifacts, we’ll be down to fumes to reach our main campsite. I think it best we evaluate the winds once we cross the mountains then decide whether we press on or turn broadside to the wind and make for the German campsite on the Weddell ice-shelf. With luck, we might even be able to fly a circuitous route back to our camp. Unless anyone knows of closer fuel caches.”

Robert, Willard, and Wilbur gathered climbing gear, strapped on crampons to their boots, and set out for the tumbled tower ruins about 150 yards away. As they got closer, Willard and Robert got into a geological discussion about the ice and rocks. “Notice the blue coloration – indicates deep ice. I’d say we’re standing on a glacier that is slowly sliding towards the river. Which agrees with my belief in the movement of plate tectonics and the evolutionary changes of the one Pangea continent breaking up into the multiple continents of today.” As the Geologists studied the landscape for their clues, Wilbur scanned for others—tracks or discarded O2 bottles or gear left years ago by Dyer.

Once they reached the edge of the tower ruins, they had a 40ft icy climb to the top. Slipping and sliding till Wilbur pulled out his snow-pick to provide anchorage and leverage to pull himself up. Followed by the others with their picks and Wilbur’s tailing rope. They stood on the rim of a huge pit about 70 yards wide and at least 20 yards deep. Estimate considering the low sun angle denied light lower into the recess. A ramp spiraled down that seemed to be supported by delicate arches. “Well, should we go in?” Wilbur tore a page from his notepad and anchored it to the rim, “In case the others come looking for us.”

With flashlights in hand, they slowly descended. The steps and walls cracked and pitted, probably damaged when the tower fell. But as they descended lower, they found smooth surfaces. And long queer slanted ledges at intervals with bumps and a U-shaped rut. “This look worn from eons of use. Almost like handhold railings.” They continued down the ramp with internal arches that supported the upper ramp. “Reminds me of Roman architecture.” Murals lined the walls. “Hard to tell, maybe scenes of the city? But look at these patterns of dots. Reminds me of brail.” Willard spoke excitedly, “This could be their language. If we could translate, we might be able to communicate. Surely the events at Lake’s camp were a misunderstanding.”

Wilbur spoke up, “From Dyer’s manuscript, those ‘shoggoth’ things killed 4 of those elders and probably tracked down the remaining 4. I don’t think you’re going to be communicating with anything. But thru translation, we might be able to interpret some of these murals and get a better understanding of their ancient culture. IF we’re alone. God help us if we run into one of those ‘shoggoth’ things!” Robert looked at another mural, “My God, they could fly! Look at these images. Dyer’s text mentioned them with interstellar travel ability. What other worlds had they visited?” Robert took out a piece of paper and began making rubbings. Willard likewise, while Wilbur snapped pictures.

When they reached the bottom, they encountered a chamber blocked by an ice mound. “There’s a gap at the top, I think we could squeeze thru.” More murals but these seemed to be of exquisite precision, as if pressed. But still distorted. That’s when Wilbur surmised, “Remember those specimens from Lake’s camp cairns had 5 eyes on the ends of stalks. 360 vision. What’s distorted to us was probably focused for them.” Willard snapped with understanding, “Pentacular vision! Of course. Those dots are grouped in 5s, reminiscent of constellations. Think of the Big-Dipper. That is a starting clue.”

They entered another chamber with various offshoots. “Let’s stick to the main path.” And that’s when Robert noticed something wrinkled and yellow stuck within a crack. “Paper. How did paper get down … Oh Shit! Dyer left a trail of torn paper. Could this be the passage where Dyer and Danforth ran from the creature?!” Wilbur was breathing hard, his sanity already tilting, “One of those offshoots could be where they ran past those 6ft tall penguins.” Willard added, “Or the ramp that descended to the center-of-the-earth's Sunless Sea.” By now the trio was sweating, whether from exhaustion, excitement, or fear. And sweat in Antarctica is not a good thing. Leads to hyperthermia and frostbite.

And that’s when Willard noticed the hummock and mounds under the last archway. Curiosity. Robert knelt and began clearing the frosty snow layer to soon reveal rubble piled into a star-shaped cairn topped with a 5-pointed soapstone. His voice cracking, Wilbur noted, “Smaller than those cairns at Lake’s camp.” And that’s when Willard spotted the triangular imprints, “Looks like your last 4 elders ran past here.” Wilbur nervously knelt to inspect, “Not much loose snow inside the pattern. No blowing snow down here … Holy crap! Mommy! Only months if not days old!” Wilbur quickly pulled out the flaregun and began to quiver. It took minutes for Robert to calm him down.

Willard removed snow from the smaller mounds only to find manmade sleds, “From Lake’s camp.” Wilbur stood shaking as Willard and Robert together began removing stones from the cairn and eventually revealed a canvas wrapping. Something stuffed into a 3ft wide shaft. Suddenly, all three gasped with realization, “Gedney!” Robert jumped to his feet while Wilbur turned and ran back up the ramp. Willard remained kneeling for a few seconds trying to reason, “They gave him a burial. They ARE civilized. Hey, wait up for me!” All 3 decided it was time to exit stage right.

The pilots were on a break back inside the camp tent. Oskar had hot coffee and warm pemmican soup ready. By now everyone was over the pemmican gag reflex. Pat spoke up, “So, Dr. Orendorf, what do you make of this city? Was it made by man? All I know, if Mr. Starkweather has anything to do with it, he’ll promote this find SO grand, Hollywood will probably make a movie out of this trip. I wonder who will play my part?” Deadpanned, Ralph reasoned, “You? Definitely Charlie Chaplin.” And that’s when Wilbur came running back into the camp breathing hard, “Hey, hey Doc. Where’s that flamethrower?!” Oskar was definitely surprised by the look on Wilbur’s face as he pointed to crates stacked near the back of the tents. When Robert and Willard entered, Oskar saw their expressions too, “Ugh, Doug, I think you guys need to get back to work on the planes.”

Robert tried to explain, “We had a little discovery and a bit of a fright. We found an old strip of paper that Dyer used to mark his trail. And another hummock, smaller than those at Lake’s camp. Canvas wrapping. We think we found Gedney.” Willard interrupted, “Tell him about the footprints!” Robert continued in his slower calmer southern voice, “Triangular. Wilbur says per the lack of snow buildup inside the print, they must be only months old.” Willard jumped in, “But they buried Gedney. They must be civilized. Surely, if we can translate their text, we can come to an understanding. What happened with your dad and the others was a misunderstanding.”

Oskar sided with Robert and provided another calming voice, “I can see your point Willard. But for now, let’s be cautious but prepared. First, we need to settle Wilbur. Convince him not to shoot first and ask questions later. I’ll give him a tranquilizer and convince him to sleep. I think both of you too need sleep to regain your composure.” Wilbur drowsily laid on a cot clutching the flamethrower at his chest, “Promise doc, you’ll be on watch. Wake me if anything approaches.” Oskar nodded then backed away toward the others to whisper, “Don’t worry, the flamethrower is empty. I’ll fill it when he wakes and is calmer and more collected.”

8:30pm: The camp itself was setup just inside a lower cavity of one of the towering structures. Thus, the heat-shield flap for the entrance. It was several hours as Oskar stood watch while the others slept. He occasional poked his head out of the shelter on lookout. That nagging feeling of being watched. And inspected the pilots for frostbite when they took breaks. And greeted Moore and Myers upon their return. Whispered details of the trio’s discovery. Myers asked, “Why so hush, hush? What are you not telling me?” Indeed, neither Myers or Sykes or the pilots (only Maskill) had been brought into the fold. Not even Starkweather.

figurines

Elder Coins: image is real Crinoid fossils from mid-Cambrian era, 300 million years before the dinosaurs

9:05pm: James finally returned to camp lugging a stuffed backpack that he joyously plopped on the camp floor. First he dug out a rectangular item, “Petrified wood! I think it was a window shutter. And look at this pristine figurines. And these 5-pointed stones. I think they might be coins. There’s an untold trove of treasure that awaits us. We’ll have to be selective what we load on the planes.” 

Sykes added, “We entered some kind of gallery and found those items. We then climbed a ridge to fire a flare. No reply. But from our perch, we could see the bizarre city layout. No rhyme or reason to its pattern.”

Oskar interrupted them to offer coffee and pemmican soup. From Wilbur’s tent, they might have heard the groggy man mumble, “Penguin soup? How do you cram a 6ft penguin into a can?” James did not notice the somber mood of the others. Thus, Moore pulled him aside and sat with him on empty crates now chairs. And told an abbreviated account of the Dyer manuscript. And the trio’s discoveries inside the collapsed tower. Even about Gedney. But the big-game hunter and explorer wasn’t fazed, “A few sticks of dynamite to keep them at bay. We’ve treasure to collect and record and make a name for ourselves.”

James stood and turned to the group, “Onward and upward. Or down if you find caves and tunnels. But from now on, let’s try to stick together. As Professor Moore says, safety in numbers. Now what say you, where should we explore first?” Moore interrupted James, “First, we need our rest. We’ve been up all day on that harrowing flight and hours exploring.” Oskar seconded that motion, “Sleep deviation can be a killer.”

By now, Sykes and Myers were suspicious, “What do you mean safety in numbers? What should we know?” Another half-hour to brief the team members. Then hot-bunking sleep shifts since there were only 6 cots. And during the shifts, Moore chatted with the trio, “We don’t want to repeat Dyers’ mistakes. Stick together. We are men of science. Let’s act accordingly. Try to translate their dot markings. And cautiously try to communicate if we encounter one. Talk first instead of shoot first Mr. Sampson if you please. Besides, I guess those elder things have returned to hibernation.”

5 Dec, 6am: Leaving the pilots at the camp to continue work on the plane, the others discussed plans. Moore discouraged them from returning to the tower which suited the awaken Wilbur fine. Before the others could answer, James selected a destination, “To those Sentinel Towers we passed flying toward the river. A picture in front of them will give perspective to this grandiose city.”

They exited camp and set out on a path to explore surface buildings along the way. They passed archways, pillars, petrified tree stumps, courtyards, and thoroughfares. They stepped into buildings and studied murals. And Robert slowly began to see a pattern in the dots and thought he’d translated a word. More murals showed the elders in flight. The background looked like stars and planets. And that’s when Robert realized, “Earth was not their first destination!”

Myers studied the same mural, “Notice their spread wings. They didn’t even use spacecrafts.” Oskar reasoned, “No wonder their skin is so tough. Able to withstand the pressure of outer space.” Robert added, “The scenes look like hunting expeditions. Notice the various plants and animals. And what looks like a pot with those wavy lines above it. My God, they are carnivores and cook their meat!” Wilbur clutched the flamethrower tighter, “You mean they came to Earth to hunt man?” Professor Myers dryly corrected him, “Technically, they hunted dinosaurs first.”

As they moved from building to building, Willard couldn’t help but notice James poking his head into every corner. “That man is like a coon-dog sniffing everything.” Oskar added, “Hopefully not sticking it where it’s not wanted.” Inside the base of a pyramid, then entered a room with an obsidian table with recessed shelves. The floor seemed to slope away from the table toward a drain. Closer inspection revealed channels cut into the table surface. Wilbur stepped back in revolt, “A coroner’s table.” As they looked at the walls, murals depicted elder scientists poking and prodding at dinosaurs and other creatures. Some from other worlds. As frightening as all looked, the scientists could appreciate the elders’ studies.

When they entered another room, Robert studied the murals set behind pillars displaying abstract art and statues. The murals seemed to show a progression. And that’s when it struck Robert, “My God!” He quickly pulled out his notepad and with a shaky hand, began documenting his find. Myers studied some of the displays, “These are dinosaurs. They’ve preserved organs. Look at this early one with feathers. And look at these that seem to represent different stages of evolution.” And that’s when Robert broke and revealed his understanding, “Not evolution. The elders tinkered with them. Forced progression. They manipulated genes and spliced pieces and breeding between worldly creatures to craft their food supply!”

Oskar (Sanity 45) easily recognized Robert  (Sanity 40) playing ‘catch-up’ with Wilbur’s sliding sanity (34). Meanwhile, Willard looked at various murals, “I believe the city began in pre-Cambrian times.” Which snapped Robert from his daze, “Yes, that makes sense. Man resulted from one of their escapees in the food supply.” Oskar began to absentmindedly think of the ‘Orendorf Asylum’ he could start upon return to the real world. He already had his first two patients in mind. IF the doctor didn't get his own room beside them! Meanwhile, Starkweather grumbled and stomped as he grew impatient at the boring scientific blabber. “We’re burning oxygen gentlemen. Let’s get moving. I’ve a picture that needs taking at the sentinels.”

As they moved along the circuitous streets, they were forced to enter what seemed to be an underpass. Rubble and ice filled the floor of the half-cylindrical tunnel turned on its side. Murals upon the flat surface. Simple drawings but with such precision (think lasers of the 1960s). 

Robert’s jaw dropped as he studied a map that clearly showed his fabled “Pangea” continent. “See this star that marks this elder city? 45 degrees south Latitude. More stars suggest there were other elder cities much larger. Obviously, this city has shifted by thousands of miles to now lie at the south pole.”

Willard pointed out another aspect, “See this region marked to the West-Northwest? Seems the elders shunned it out of fear as the mountain rose in an upheaval. I don’t know the scale, but I’d guess it far outside the city but close.” Moore could only express his wonder, “Everything in Dyer’s manuscript is accurate. He was not exaggerating as I had suspected.”

Clattering behind them drew their attention to James and Sykes jabbing with knives at a mural trying to carve off an elder image. “Vandals! Desecration. How could you.” But those words said under ones breath so as not to piss off the expedition benefactor.

They were already 3 hours into their trek when they confronted a pentagonal wall that seemed to block their path. Forcing them to climb upon the snow-covered blocks. The vantage giving them a clear view of the city behind them. On top, Wilbur noticed the structure almost honeycombed. Which made him think bees. So, he used his boot to scrap off the snow to see if there was a clear surface. Indeed! And that’s when tentacles (as if a Kraken) reached from within and stretched toward the surface only to vaporize in an instant. And that’s when Wilbur accidently squeezed the trigger generating a short “burp” from the flamethrower.

As they stood upon the wall and gazed at the city unfolded around them, Willard Griffith began to recite Percy Shelley’s Ozymandias poem, “I met a traveler from a distant land…” William Moore joined in, “Who said ‘two vast and trunkless legs of stone…” Robert joined as well, “Stand in the desert… near them on the sand…” And all the while, Willard added another sketch to his growing collection in his book.

Finally, from this perch, James gazed upon his destination, “Gentlemen, the Sentinels await.” Two elder sentinels, still at a distance, towered above them. Their heads toppled into the riverbed and now encased in ice. Two colossal wrecks. And endless loneliness.

Next episode: https://rigglebmm.blogspot.com/2021/01/s15-rescue-party.html