“‘It was obvious there was no alternative. We made off at speed down the corridor.
“‘The screams of the dying followed us all the way.
“‘We did not escape at first. In fact, we only made it ten yards before Muir stopped dead in his tracks ahead of me. I almost ran him over, and Jones the purser barreled into me too before we all came to a stumbling halt. I immediately saw why Muir hadhalted. The whole corridor ahead of us seemed vague and unformed; the walls themselves were only a little more substantial than smoke. The floor rippled and swelled, as if pulled and pushed by tidal forces, the wavelets reaching almost to our toes.
“‘I stepped back, hoping to move out of reach, but felt the weight and press of bodies at our rear.
“‘A sailor—Black Jock, the Scottish stoker—pushed his way past me. I tried to hold him back, but he shrugged me off easily.
“‘Come on, lads, let’s take to the boats.’
“‘He took another step, his foot hit the deck … and kept on going. The big man lost his balance and fell forward, floundering. He shouted an oath, flapped his arms, then he was just gone—swallowed up as the deck rippled, then calmed. The metal pinged and creaked as it hardened once more. Something lay at my feet. I bent, and almost retched at the sight. It was a thumb, callused and tough … and neatly severed at the base, as if sliced by the keenest of blades. A dribble of blood ran from it. It was all that was left to show that the Scot had ever been there.
“‘I’m afraid to say that I almost lost my composure, gripped by the certainty that we were all mere seconds from the same doom. If Muir hadn’t taken matters in hand, I might have just sat down and waited for my fate. Before I could do anything he took a step forward of his own. I held my breath as his foot touched the deck. Muir planted his foot firmly, putting his weight on it. The deck held, and I remembered to breathe; the sense of mist and vagueness in the corridor had passed again.
“‘We followed Muir down the corridor to the storm door that led back out onto deck. He tried to push it open, but the damage the fog had done to it meant it was badly warped in its fitting. It creaked under his efforts, but did not give. It was only when I lent my weight to the task that we forced the door open. The screech of metal on metal was almost deafening. Then again, so was the silence that fell as we got the door fully opened and looked outside.
“‘The whole length of the deck looked like a candle that had been left in bright sunlight, having gone slightly soft, then hardened again. The metal was alternately swollen and hollowed in hard ripples, as if a wave had washed over it, then gone firm.”
“‘Someone shouted behind us, and we turned.
“‘Fog filled the corridor, creeping toward us. And when it started to sing—well, we got out of there right sharpish.”
“That was when I sent you the telegram, for I remembered the time in the Med and thought this might be more of the same. But this is not the same, Carnacki—this is like something no one has ever seen afore.’
“He stopped, and took a long drag on his smoke, staying silent so long that I thought he might not tell me any more. But finally he spoke again, his voice soft and low.
“‘We lost four men that first day—four good stout chaps. There was talk of giving up and sailing away for cleaner water. But the call of the salvage was strong in my crew—strong enough for every man there to face down any fear of fog in the holds and head back out to the other stricken vessel the next day. Well, not quite every man—two of the younger chaps took to their heels and we ain’t seen then again. They were the lucky ones.
“‘That second day, twelve of us went out to the boats on the rocks. We gave the one closest to shore—the one we had investigated the previous day—a wide berth, intent on quickly plundering the other one of all we could carry and hoping against hope that there would be no reappearance of any fog.
“‘And at first it went well—as I think I told you, I found a bally good sextant and telescope that will fetch a pretty penny on their own. And the copper wiring we brought up out of the hold will be enough to see me through this coming winter. But the men wanted more, so we delved deeper.
“‘That’s when the fog came again. That’s when it caught us.
“‘It was just a small glow at first, luminescence of the sort we often see in tropical waters, but it grew quickly, seething out of the hull and encompassing everything. And Lord help you if you let it touch you, for where it touched, it fed, eating like acid through clothes and skin and bone in seconds. It reduced poor Bertie Carruthers to bubbling red meat before any of us could move, and it sang while it did it, a high whine, part seagull, part wind, part nothing we’d ever heard afore. We fled from it, back to the Galloway Lass and what we hoped was safety. I lost three more men in the corridor before we got above decks—three more good lads, eaten and melted into little more than bloody smears on the floor—I can still hear their last screams.
“‘But there was nothing we could do for them—you must believe me on that score, Carnacki—we could only flee, flee for our very lives.
“‘I only looked back once—the fog sat there, like a gray toad squatting on top of the stricken boats, and as if it had seen me looking, it sang to me, high and loud and strident across the water.
“‘And, God help me, Carnacki—I wanted to answer. I so wanted to answer.’”
c
“‘There is little more left to tell,’ he said, dully now, as if all emotion was spent in his last outburst. ‘We came back into port here, and most of the crew up and left me. Then, when fog followed us ashore and our story got around, the people of the village, too, panicked and left—there were mutters about the old bad days coming back, but nobody would tell us anything. Besides, by that time I was already well on the way to losing myself in liquor with the two stout chaps who stayed with me—and I remained that way until you found us.’
“It seemed I finally had the whole tale, but I did not, as yet, know quite what to make of it.
“‘Will you take me out there?’ I asked him, and I saw the fear grow large in him again. ‘I need to see it with my own eyes. I need to know the nature of the thing before I will know how to deal with it.’
“‘You think you can get rid of it?’ he asked, and for the first time I saw a glimmer of hope in him, and some of his old avarice coming to the surface.
“‘It is a thing of the Outer Darkness—I am sure of it,’ I replied. ‘And I have my methods—as you well know.’
“I may have sounded more confident than I felt at that moment, but it had been enough to give Gault the hoped-for push I had intended. He persuaded his men that he needed them, one last time. The fact that it was a bright clear day with no sign of fog was in his favor—and the offer of larger shares of any salvage also helped. Within the hour we were taking his Galloway Lass—a tall, handsome two-master with a most efficient steam engine driving twin propellers—out into the open seas beyond the small harbor. I had my box of protections up on the top deck, and despite Gault’s horror story, I felt the old tingle, the mixture of apprehension and excitement at a new challenge to my knowledge and experience.
“I saw Gault scan the horizon keenly and realized he was checking for any sign of fog, but the day stayed clear and bright as we headed north along the coast. The rigger proved difficult to handle with such a small crew and I was press-ganged into duties on several occasions. But it was an unremarkable trip on the whole, until, a little over an hour after leaving harbor, we rounded a promontory and I saw the wreck site for the first time.
“Two large gray Navy ships—mainly cargo vessels by the look of them, for there were no gun emplacements that I could see—were aground close to shore. They sat almost out of the water, on a stretch of rocks that did indeed look as if they should have been avoidable. There was no sign of life, and no sound save for the clash of waves and the cry of a distant seagull.
“Nor was there any sign of fog. Gault stood at the wheel for long seconds, his binoculars to his e
yes, ready to fall back at the slightest sign of danger. There was none immediately forthcoming. After ten minutes the other two men came up from below and we dropped anchor some one hundred yards from the wrecks. It was only then that Gault moved.
“‘Well, Carnacki, you want to see what’s what. Will you accompany me across to them? I cannot promise sherry and pastries, but I can promise you a mystery. Is that enough?’
“The two hands lowered the rowboat over the side. I had a long look at my protections, but the box was too heavy to be lugging around at sea in a small boat, so I reluctantly left it behind and Gault joined me in climbing down. He took the oars and seconds later we were rowing away from the Galloway Lass and across thankfully quiet seas toward the wrecks. The two hands looked down at us, faces grim, as if they thought we were heading for our doom.
“Gault kept up a constant flow of nervous chatter as he rowed and I watched the wrecks get ever closer over his left shoulder.
“‘Take your lead from me, Carnacki,’ he said. ‘If I say run, I will be running, and you had best be right behind me. I’ll let you do all the looking around that you would like—as for myself, I will be keeping my eyes peeled for that blasted fog—I know the signs well enough—I will know when it is coming. Just promise me that, should it indeed make an appearance, you will not hang around to study it—for trust me, you will not survive the experience.’
“I nodded my agreement; my earlier excitement had turned into quite a funk now that we were on the water and closing on the site, and I was already regretting not bringing the protections along. But I agreed readily enough with Gault; I would indeed jump if he said to do so—this first trip was to see what was what—I had no intention of getting into any trouble, not at least before I knew what kind of trouble it might be.
“As it turned out, trouble was not difficult at all to find.
“On their previous visit, Gault and his crew had left rope ladders hanging from the stern of the nearest of the two boats. It was a simple enough matter to tie up to them, then haul myself up onto a deck that tilted rather alarmingly to port but seemed steady enough. Gault pulled himself aboard to join me before I had time to be alarmed by the silence and the feeling that I was not quite alone on the vessel. We delayed our exploration for as long as it took us to each smoke down a cigarette.
“I noted that this vessel at least seemed in good enough shape.
“‘Aye—the strange melting was all over on the other one—that’s where the fog is—at least, that’s where I hope it stays.’
“I finished my smoke and followed him into the bowels of the boat.”
c
“I don’t have to tell you chaps that my legs were like bally jelly by this time. But I was quite taken aback by the sight of a great deal of experimental equipment in the first hold, and my curiosity got the better of my funk, allowing me the time to examine it properly while Gault stood guard in the doorway.
“A mess of wiring—and signs that there had been much more, especially of the copper—was attached to a control system that was portable enough to be carried up onto deck. The thing that dominated the hold, however, would not be going anywhere; it was far too big for transport—indeed, it looked like it had been built in situ.
“And the more I looked at it, the more I realized I recognized it—or something very like it. The main part of it was a disk about ten feet in diameter, sitting atop a cube some seven to eight feet on a side. The disk was made of some material I did not recognize, like thin cotton but with a slightly metallic sheen to it. The box below was mahogany with brass fittings.
“‘Do you know what it is?’ Gault said, loud enough to be heard in the quiet of the hold despite being across the room.
“‘I think I might. As I understand it, it is a machine for amplifying sound,’ I replied. ‘A bellows serves to compress a column of air inside the contraption which, when released, vibrates against the material of the disk. It’s a Parsons loudspeaker, and when it was first used, it blew out three windows and near deafened most of the members of the Royal Society in Bloomsbury.’
“‘Is it worth much?’ he asked.
“‘Almost nothing, I would imagine—I cannot think of any commercial application, given its size. It makes a dashed big noise, though.’
“I rapped the disk and the resulting vibration sent the whole room humming, the thrum echoing for several seconds as the ship’s hull responded in sympathetic resonance.
“‘Yes. But what is it for?’ Gault asked.
“‘I have no bally idea. You didn’t find any records, did you? An experiment on this scale would certainly demand record-keeping.’
“There is a bookcase of ledgers in the captain’s cabin,’ he replied. ‘I thought they were the ship’s logs, but …’
“Again I followed as he led me through the boat. I saw him take a wide berth around a long red streak on the bulkhead and saw the set of his features take on a grim aspect. He had lost a man in this very spot, and I kept quiet as he led me to the bridge and the captain’s cabin behind it.
“There were indeed a set of ledgers in a somewhat battered bookcase in the captain’s quarters, all of which were dated on the spine. I lifted the most recent and was just about to open it when the whole boat thrummed beneath us, a vibration that sent the lamps swinging in the cabin. It was almost as if someone had struck the disk of the loud speaker.
“And, two seconds later, an answering vibration came from somewhere not too far distant, as if a second speaker had been operated. Gault called me out of the cabin and led me over to look at the main bridge set-up—as well as a wheel case, there was an array of meters and dials I could not pretend to understand. When another drumbeat shook the boat two meters swung wildly. When there was an answering beat, the meters at the other end of the array swung in response.
“‘It’s coming from the other wrecked boat,’ Gault said. ‘It’s some kind of call and response system. Were they testing some new kind of communication at sea?’
“‘Perhaps this will tell us,’ I said, showing him the ledger. He wasn’t looking at me—his gaze was fixed out of the bridge window and along the length of the deck.
“‘Remember what I said about running?’ he said, and immediately turned and was gone. I caught a single glimpse of a milky glow rising up through the main deck from below; then I too was off and away, taking time only to stuff the ledger I had in my hand deep inside my jacket under my armpit.
“We reached the rope ladder almost together, and Gault stood aside to let me go first. I saw his eyes widen as he looked over my shoulder.
“‘Quickly now, Carnacki—and don’t spare the horses!’
“I half-climbed, half-slid down the ladder and even then Gault almost tumbled atop me as soon as my feet were in the boat. He untied us and shoved us off using an oar against the hull. The metallic clang sounded around us, and as if in answer the pale fog loomed above, almost as if it was looking for us. Gault rowed with all his might and this time I had to gauge what was happening from his own frenzied actions, for I did not wish to turn for fear of unbalancing the boat. The fear in his eyes grew wilder, and his efforts grew ever more frantic, until finally, after what seemed like hours, he slumped and let the oars go still, clearly exhausted. The boat turned slightly in the water, giving me a clear view of the wrecks—just in time to see a milky fog sink back through the deck, leaving only gray metal gleaming slightly in the sun.”
c
“I took the oars the rest of the way back to the Galloway Lass, and Gault’s men had to help me haul the captain up out of the rowboat to the deck. The poor chap was almost spent, although a stiff brandy did much to revive him.
“The crew members wanted to turn tail and head back to harbor, but Gault would have none of it.
“‘Take us out half a mile or so—not so far that we don’t still have a clear view of the wrecks. Then drop anchor again. We didn’t fetch Carnacki all this way to sit in an inn drinking with us.’
&
nbsp; “Actually, that thought did rather appeal to me at that particular moment, but Gault was adamant. I helped get the anchors in fore and aft, and we moved away further offshore before the captain announced he was satisfied. We dropped anchor again—it was getting on for mid afternoon by this time—and settled in for a watching brief.
“It was only then I remembered the ledger. It was still there, tucked away inside my jacket under my armpit.
“When I opened it, I realized it had not been written by the captain, as I had imagined, but was the record of a scientist, a certain William Kerr, and interspersed with the columns of data were some of his journal entries and scribbled random thoughts. It was from these fragments that I was finally able to piece together the details of what had befallen the stricken vessels.
“I brought Gault up to date with my findings over supper—which we took on deck so that we could keep an eye on the wrecks, ready to take quick action should the fog reappear.
“‘You were right, Gault,’ I said as I sipped some particularly fine port. ‘It was an experiment—but not of communication, at least not directly. You’ve of course heard that the Germans have developed weapons that can be fitted on submarines? It seems our Navy has been more than a tad spooked by this news and has been trying to find a way to detect these underwater menaces. The large speaker we saw in the hold has a partner on the other vessel, and, working in tandem, they send sound bouncing to and fro in the depths. When the sound hits something—something like a submarine—a spike or a trough would be detected by those meters we saw, and the scientist chaps have a cunning formula for working out the distance from the boats, and the depth at which the object and the sound waves collided. The technicalities are somewhat lost on me, but I believe that is the gist of it.’
“‘I can see how that might work,’ Gault said. ‘But how does that explain yon blasted fog?’
Carnacki: The Watcher at the Gate Page 18