Preparing for a Trans-Atlantic Crossing

From the diary of Franz Alter, October 15, 1926:

Relative in Berlin, Germany, has left me an inheritance. That is interesting. I am going by ship. The legal office of Adabert Schulz has provided me with several first-class passages. I cannot sell them, so I suppose I can bring my compatriots. The ship is S/S Athenia. It sails for the Anchor-Donaldson Line from Halifax, Nova Scotia. I hope the ship is clean. I hope Halifax is clean. I fear that Berlin is not.

A late-night conversation at between Professor Mackenzie MacNamara, and Professor Tyler M. Freeborn of the Miskatonic University Department of Anthropology on October 17, 1926. Dinner had been enjoyed at the Metropolitan Restaurant, which is located in the swanky Pawtuxet Hotel:

- Really? You're going to Berlin, just like that? Fan-tastic! I assume that there must me some interesting academic connections worth pursuing, yes?

- Quite so, dear Freeborn. The Ägyptisches Museum und Papyrussammlung is rather impressive, and I do have one or two contacts there. I have, as a matter of fact, telegraphed professors Opitz and von Kleist already, and I even have some suggestions as to joint academic endeavors.

- Outstanding, by Jove! I assume you'll be travelling via liner from Boston or New York?

- No, I'm afraid not. We'll be going via (gasp) Halifax, Nova Scotia, in fall weather.

- Oh dear. You know that Halifax has struggled since that enormous explosion back in '17? The end of the Great War also really led to a downturn in business. Speaking of the Halifax Explosion, I assume you've heard Professor Lake's rants about the explosion? You know, Professor Marcus Lake of the Biology Department?

- No, can't say I have...

- Ever since the explosion, Professor Lake has been very secretive about some of the finds that he was privy to. You may recall that the explosion was caused by a fire on board a French munitions vessel, and the ensuing explosion killed as many as 2,000 people in norther Halifax?

- Hm, I was only vaguely aware of this at the time, since I was in Egypt together with my father, dear professor MacNamara.

- OK. The explosion threw fragments of the ship, the SS Mont-Blanc, as far as four miles from the explosions, and if you ask professor Lake, especially after a couple of generous pours of brandy, he'll tell you about the weird, fleshy...thing that he claims landed in the back yard of a Mrs. Hazel Underwood. She found this so fascinating - and repelling - that she kept it on ice. She called the police, and they were clueless, so they in turn called the McGill University in Montreal, where Professor Lake was attending a seminar. So, Lake claimed that he saw the specimen in the ice cellar of Mrs. Underwood, and he described it as "big as a bison, both sort of scaly and with thick, coarse hairs protruding from between some of the scales. Interestingly, there were also vestigal eyes along what might have been a dorsal ridge". Well, something like that. Pictures were taken, but the cellar of Mts. Underwood was way too dark to allow for anything to be seen upon exposing the plates, and the specimen itself dissoled in a matter of days. Strange, considering that Professor Marcus Lake tends to be quite well-founded in reality. A true man of science.

- Let's have one more for the road, shall we?    

The Halifax explosion

S/S Athenia

Howard Lake was carefully packing hus suitcases as well as a trunk. He was excited, but not without a slight feeling of trepidation. The previous sea journey, as part of the MacNamara Expedition of last year, had been terrifuing, and he sincerely hoped that a fall trip to Liverpool, and then Calais, and finally a train ride to Berlin. Lake had never travelled this far, and he was more than a little cyrious about Europe, and the trip over the Atlantic! S/S Atenia was a modern vessel, built in 1924, and equipped with all kinds of modernities. 

''

From the diary of Jules Pollack, October 18, 1926:

The tuxedo is packed. I am all ready to leave for Europe. However, I am not looking forward to the train trip up to Halifax. Why couldn't we leave from New York or Boston. Well, the Atlantic cold can be beat with some nice Scotch, right? Seems proper for Nova Scotia. S/S Athenia? Wasn't an S/S Athenia sunk by the Kaiser's u-boats in the Great War? Good thing we're at peace. Come to think of it, my old friend Werner Faust was forced to leave for Germany couple of years ago. I should look him up.

He finally picked up his trusty revolver, weighing it in his hand. To pack or not to pack? Hm, what a vapid question. He placed the (still unloaded) revolver in his briefcase.

From the diary of Felix Jeremiah, October 19, 1926:

I am going to Germany. I really do not know what to expect, And we're going on a Scottish ocean liner! Will there be bagpipes, kilts and haggis? Highland games? 

A visit in October

 From the diary of Frank Cannon, Saturday, October 23, 1926.

A dame. It's always a dame. I had actually managed to become rather comfortable in my new office on Hyde Street, just a few blocks away from  the train station, and still close to my favorite lunch spot, the Fulton Inn. It was just after two P.M. and I was dozing after a visit to Fulton's when there was a knock on the door. I actually lefgt my desk to open the door, and there she was, all five foot six of stunning female. "Good efternoon. You must be mr. Cannon, the private investigator?" I ssured her that this was the case and asked her to take a seat. "I´m mrs. Beverly Kincaid. You may have heard of me?" I looked at her, from her expensive shoes to her equally expensive hat, and told her "of course". I was clueless. I'd never heard of her".

"You see, mr. Cannon, my husband is Elijah Kincaid, the son of shipping magnate Ulysses Kincaid." Ah, yes, the Kincaids of Boston. I did know of them. "Mr. Kincaid, well, Elijah, has been picking up some unhealthy habits." I was expecting the usual: booze, drugs, women, gambling... but no. "Seances. Elijah has been attending seances and squandering quite a bit of money on them, not to mention time he should have been spending with me. The seances are apparently rather popular affairs, mostly run by a few members of the Ascension Club, and with a certain Madame LaVerne officiating. The seances are, of course, just humbug, smoke, and mirrors, but these kinds of distractions are, as you know, quite popular these days. Mr. Cannon, I will pay you a handsome sum to ensure that Elijah becomes aware of the buffonery of this ridiculous stagecraft, and that he simply stops attending, these 'seances'. I am really quite clueless as to what attracts him to this vapid silliness, but I am certain that you can find out." She leaned forward from the edge of her chair, placing her perfectly dolled-up face a mere foot from mine. "Am I right, Mr. Cannon?"

Beverly Kincaid

All this was interesting, and I came to the conclusion that I might involve my fellow P.I.'s Lockwood and Doctorow in some research as well. Especially Doctorow was short on cash, and some company might be good to have. Three pairs of eyes might be better than two if we were to expose parlor magic and sleight of hand.  

The Horrors of Shaft Z

Monday, September 10, 1926, and the day started in a most unexpected fashion at Jules Polack Fine Antiques even before the store opened. The doorbell at the entrance up to Jules' apartment rang, and when Jules opened, he was greeted by a strange, or even grotesque, sight: a muffled individual, all wrapped up in scarves, wearing a dirty overcoat and an equally dirty hat. The person moaned monotonously, and despite these strange accoutrements, Jules all of a sudden that he was standing in front of Burlington Jones! He ushered in Burlington, locked the door, and relieved Burlington of his garments. And what a shock that was! Burlington Jones had turned into a misshapen lump of flesh, a mere parody of his former handsome self.

Mrs. O'Flaherty did provide Burlington with a breakfast and a bath, and although she was startled, she claimed to have seen worse. Meanwhile, Jules called over his old friends for breakfast to discuss what had happened. It was to become something of a reunion, since they had all been busy with various projects and activities, from studying to well-needed recuperation. Once breakfast had been served, the intrepid investigators went through a knapsack that Burlington had been carrying. The contents were, to say the least, varied: 

  

The intrepid investigators also decided to get in touch with Burlington's mother, both for closure and clarity. The young man had, after all, been missing for quite some time. 

The contents of the knapsack did not give away any immediate leads, but both Moira Baker and Dr. Emmet Brown were asked to provide a more thorough analysis on a molecular level. Both Baker and Brown were their, well, usual selves, and they promised that they would get back to the investigators next day or so after being handed samples of Burlington's belongings. 

The investigators continued to discuss the case of Burlington Jones throughout that dreary Monday. There were trips to the Miskatonic University Library, including a confrontation with the notorious potato chip lady that guarded the stacks, and there was some discussion with the Arkham PD. Polish newspapers? A rosary? A key that (after asking a locksmith) seemed to be for some sort of security door? A government issue canteen? Everything came together next afternoon, when Dr. Brown could report that he had found traces of kobolttorium-G. Pleasantville and the polish mining community that had provided kobolttorium-G to the Topsville power plant where the Mi-Go were building some form of intra-dimensional portal. The mine had subsequently been closed, and the population re-located.

Moira Baker had more grave news, though. Poor Burlington Jones would probably not last long, since his mutation rate was increasing at an unforeseen rate. It was just a question of making sure that he didn't suffer, and taking care of mrs. Jones. Mrs. O'Flaherty would take care of the latter, while Franz Alter addressed the former.

So, what was really going on up in Pleasantville, and what was the "Shaft Z' that the Polish miners had whispered about? The intrepid investigators decided to take a road trip up to Pleasantville in two cars filled with of a plethora of equipment. However, Howard Lake did not show up, and although he picked up the telephone, he claimed to be ill. There was some concern that he might have been contaminated by Burlington Jones, but Mackie simply rolled her eyes and hinted at some nameless V.D.

Pleasantville was reached late that Wednesday afternoon, September 12. The small, wretched village was indeed deserted, but the mine itself seems to have been guarded by the U.S. Army. The buildings did seem to have been deserted in some haste, and the rooms were in a sad state.

Now, were the intrepid investigators actually going to venture into the mine itself? There was some discussion regarding that question, but eventually they all decided to venture into the dark unknown. There was initially very little of interest: a mine with some structural issues and a few dangerous sink holes.

This passage did, however, end in a much more exotic, or even alien, setting. There were hints at something weird, pillars with inexplicable angles and functions, a weird greenish shimmer from luminescent discs that didn't give off any heat, and disturbing mists hovering a foot or so over the ground. The intrepid investigators saw some similarities with both the forbidden factory in Central America and the Topsfield Power Plant, so the investigators checked their weapons an extra time.

One of the passages led deep into the mountain, and the presence of alien characters and inscriptions became increasingly prevalent. That particular passage ended in a bizarre laboratory, a nightmarish parody of science in which humanoid shapes seem to have been grown in tanks that by now seemed have to had fallen into disrepair. There were conventional signs in English mixed with alien displays, and whatever experiments the government might have been conducting seemed to be revolting at best. An ample amount of emergency signs, levers, and buttons seemed to indicate that the experiments were far from harmless.

Any sane individual would have left this unearthly setting in utmost haste, but the intrepid investigators decided to press on, perhaps with some aid from Jules' hip flask. They arranged themselves with Felix Jeremiah taking point, and then after height, so as to provide as much firepower as possible. This would indeed be needed, as a locked door further down into the complex seemed to contain the fruits of the unethical experiments. But what were they? Mere biological debris? Scientific castoffs? It could not be determined, but their aggressiveness and wailing clearly indicated that conversation wasn't an option.

The human detritus was intent on chasing down and utterly destroying the investigators, that was clear. A fierce melee followed, shots were fired, and sticks of dynamite were flung. The investigators finally managed to break free and flee for their lives in a running fight that took them all the way up to the surface while being pursued by a very loud and terrifying horde of what once had been men. An incendiary device was improvised and thrown down the shaft, while investigators desperately battled a few of the obscenities that had made it to the surface. 

Shaft Z did seem to have been disabled in a flaming pyre, but was there any guarantee that the man-made horrors would remain in the strange tunnels around Pleasantville?