Tales from the Voynich Manuscript and the Island of Jan Mayen

by Alexander Copperwhite

  Tssssssssssssssssssss...

  "Carl! For the love of God, answer me!

  Tsssssssssssssssssss...

  "Is anyone there?"

  Tsssssssssssssssss... tssssssssssssssss... tssssssssssssssssss...

  V – The Weather Station

  The navy captain realized right away that something was wrong. The radio antenna was 12 meters high but no one caught a glimpse of it before the weather station itself came into view. There was no smoke coming from the chimney, the windows were completely fogged over, and the front door was half open.

  "I fear the worst," he thought.

  He raised his hand and stopped the group. He went over to the soldiers and gave them orders.

  "...meanwhile, you two wait here until I give you the order.

  "What's going on, captain? the professor asked.

  "That is what I'm about to find out. You stay here with your people and don't get in the way. Understood?"

  "Understood", the professor grumbled.

  The worried members of his expedition watched as the captain and the soldiers readied themselves to carry out a full-scale assault. They split up in three groups and surrounded the station, which occupied about 100 square meters. The soldiers took up positions by the front door, the entrance to the garage they found in back and on one side where there was a large window. They tried to look inside, but saw nothing. The captain, pistol in hand, peeked inside the open door, and quickly pulled his head back. He signaled to the soldiers to get behind him so they could cover him, opened the door all the way and promptly slipped, his back grazing the wall.

  His heart pounded and his breathing sped up.

  "Forward," he whispered.

  The two soldiers went in and positioned themselves to one side of a desk next to an overturned chair. The station appeared to be abandoned.

  He ordered them to advance with his hand.

  "Carefully," he whispered again.

  Meanwhile, the other soldiers came in through the rear and began to search the bedrooms.

  "My God," they exclaimed while they moved forward.

  "All clear!" the captain announced.

  "You have to see what we found in the bedrooms," one of the soldiers said.

  "I don't think it'll be necessary. I suspect it will be very much like what we found in the lab and radio room. Go outside and tell everyone they can come in but warn them they must keep still and not touch anything. Or at least not until we clear up what happened here, anyway.”

  VI – The Wishes of a Dead Father

  "I never thought it could go this far," the professor mumbled.

  The pinkish blood diluted by the snow was visible everywhere. The bodies of the victims lay motionless on the floor all over the station. The ones found in the bedrooms had been stabbed and had their throats cut while they were sleeping. The men in the laboratory had been surprised and shot down from behind. All that was left of the radio operator were the remains of flesh and guts, melted metal and electrical circuits scattered all over the cramped room.

  "He went mad!" the professor cried.

  He was trembling from a sudden attack of dizziness brought on by guilt. He threw up his hands, tried to support himself against the wall but finally slumped to the floor.

  "He went mad," the professor muttered this time.

  "What are you talking about?" the captain asked, rushing towards him in a rage.

  "He was a good person, intelligent. Why would he have committed such an atrocity?"

  The captain grabbed his shirt and shook him a couple of times.

  "Tell me who it was and where he is now?!"

  The soldiers were watching, serious and fearful, while the expedition members looked on in disbelief, astonished by what they were witnessing.

  "Let him calm down," Hans remarked. 'You won't get anything out of him when he's like that."

  "Calm down?!" the captain shouted. "Let him calm down?! Have you seen what's scattered all over the place inside there? We'll have to pick up what's left of one of those guys with a mop and deliver it to his family in a bag. Do you realize that?!"

  "Yeah, and something else I do realize is that if you continue pushing the professor around like that, the only thing you'll achieve is to hurt him. The fact that he may know who is behind all this doesn't mean he had anything to do with it. Right, professor?"

  "Well, of course not!"

  "You see?"

  "You're right," said the captain, calming down himself by this point. "The best thing to do is try and contact central command and tell them to send a full investigation team here. Meanwhile, we have to get this place in good enough shape so that we can spend the night here."

  The soldiers shouldered their weapons and dispersed throughout the station to try and insulate it from the cold outside, turn on the power generator, designate one area for communications and prepare something to eat. Despite their youth, no one had any doubt whatsoever that they were very well trained.

  "Jürgen, come over here, please," the professor said.

  Jürgen approached him and the professor got up from the floor.

  "Are you all right?"

  "Perfectly fine," he replied. "Now that I know what their intentions are, I'll have to take a different course of action."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You know, you're not here because I particularly like you, or because you're a good student, or by chance. I brought you here with me because my father asked me to many years ago. Your grandfather was very good friends with him, and at this point you are his last living descendant."

  "But... what is all this about?"

  "You just stay by my side all the time and do what I tell you. I've never failed to keep a promise and I don't plan on starting now."

  VII – News

  The year before...

  The news program on the principal television station in France broadcast images of the murder constantly.

  "The author of the crime is still unknown and the police are tirelessly searching the murder site for some clue. The 26-year-old victim, a mechanic by trade, was hung from the balcony of his house with his intestines hanging out and his tongue cut off. This atrocity has had a great impact on the small community living in this village located 15 kilometers south of Lyon. Everyone is wondering why. According to friends and neighbors of the victim, Marc Fisher was a friendly, hard-working man who never looked for trouble and was always ready to lend a helping hand to whoever needed it."

  I have to call right now and confirm what happened, the professor thought.

  "As you can see, the community is distraught and full of questions they want answered. The police have declared...".

  "One moment, please!"

  The professor hung up the telephone receiver and stared intently at his television screen.

  "Is that you?"

  "Unfortunately, the inspector in charge of the investigation has refused to make any statement at this time. From all appearances, this is not a crime of passion, but some kind of revenge killing or execution...".

  "Why have you sold your soul to the devil? You're too old now for these things."

  "You are the owner of the cafe located across from the victim's home. Can you tell us anything about him?"

  "I don't understand. I don't understand it. Every morning he came down and drank his coffee and had a sweet for..."

  "What are you up to?"

  The professor continued to focus intently on the man in the background captured by the camera, the man who pretended to blend into the crowd as just another spectator. In truth, he was watching the camera with a shocking, malicious devotion, as if he was expecting and hoping to be recognized as the murderer by someone who knew him. Like he was taunting someone.

  "I cannot believe you've fallen so low."

  The face of his adversary resembled nothing so much as a block of ice devoid of expression and human emotion. Suddenly, his lips moved, but it wasn't easy to make out the word he was pro
nouncing.

  "Let's see what you're trying to tell me."

  "Traitors."

  VIII - Why?

  "I want you to tell me what this is all about, professor," the captain said sternly. "And don't leave out a single detail."

  The professor didn't feel intimidated, or worried by the withering glare of the captain and the implicit aggression in his words. He looked resentfully at Jürgen and went outside the station.

  "Professor Olaf. I must insist..."

  "It's not necessary to continue this conversation, captain. The best course of action will be for us to head to the north of the island. That's the place I planned to go all along."

  He remained lost in thought, scanned the horizon, calculated their current position and indicated which direction they should head in.

  Many years before, an Irish monk sailed these waters and came to describe what he saw here as if it was a supernatural, evil event. It was the first time that man discovered the island. Later, when he finally managed to return safely to his home, the monk wrote about what he saw, what he felt, and what he stopped feeling.

  I remember when I understood that my home was a long way from where I was and I understood that I would die soon. The truth is it was horrible when you feel that sensation running through you. It rots your guts and drives you crazy. I have not eaten in several days and there is only a little bit of water left. God! May no one else ever have to feel the way I felt. On the verge of going mad and with my body bedeviling me with intense pain, I saw something like a tongue of fire appear on the slope of a faraway mountain and knew right away that my time had come.

  The huge, infernal balls of fire that were stirring up the heavens and the smoke you could even make out at night, jolted the monk's weak heart so strongly he crossed himself several times until he lost consciousness.

  When a cold water current pushed the ship returning him to northern Europe on towards the coast of Scotland, some took him for crazy and others believed he was a saint. 'The gates of hell', that's how he described them very precisely, time and time again. He declared that he had died and was resurrected during a voyage through frigid waters covered by an intense fire and he only heard the roar emanating from the innermost depths of the earth. Purgatory: the space where God guarded all the evils of the world and only opened them to reject the rotten souls.

  "Let's not waste any more time," said the professor. "We'll pick up what we need and be on our way."

  "I'm the one who gives the orders here," the captain objected.

  "Well, we're not in the military. But if you want to come with us, you will be more than welcome."

  IX – Exploration

  The journey was arduous. The storm battering the island was colossal. Even the few animals there went into hiding from the inclement weather, just as they did during the winter. The snow melted into the ground and created slippery sheets of ice that the sea breeze turned into treacherous potential traps where someone could easily fall and break a leg or simply get a good scare.

  "Fuck this goddamn place," Jürgen yelled. “And this is in summer.”

  The other members of the team held their tongues, only nodding silently while the professor and captain exchanged glances of "unfriendly mutual understanding." Neither one fully trusted the other, but both needed each other at that moment. One to cover his ass, and the other to discover what had happened to the men at the weather station.

  The island was shaped like a deformed figure eight so getting from one end to the other was no easy task. The dormant volcano that occupied almost the entire northern part of the island was not exactly the most welcoming place in the world, either. Although they wanted to force the march to arrive as soon as possible, the unexpected storm was delaying them, chilling them to the bone and sapping their will. The youthful soldiers were no longer scanning their surroundings with scowling faces and determination in their eyes. Now their stares betrayed the presence of an underlying feeling of insecurity and horrible dread. If it wasn't for youthful adrenaline blinding their better judgment, they would have stayed in the station until the storm blew over and they could have requested reinforcements.

  "What the hell are we doing out here?" they wondered.

  Erika and Hans were also worried but they had faith in the professor and were much more effective in their efforts to mask their fear. And Jürgen never once stopped complaining.

  "When we cross the strait, we should look for a site to make camp and spend the night," Hans said. "I don't think it would be a good idea for us to stay near here. From what they told me before we left, there’s a good spot right around this area... here, where we can set up the tents and be protected from the strong winds."

  Hans pointed to the place on the map he kept in his jacket pocket and the professor nodded in agreement.

  "What do you think, captain?" the professor asked.

  Even though he didn't get along with him or trust him, he knew the navy officer was trained to survive in extreme conditions and had undoubtedly been in this area before on several occasions.

  "If I remember correctly, there's a kind of cave in that place that could serve as shelter for us. I suggest that we speed up if we don't want to risk getting stuck out here."

  "I think the best thing will be for me to go ahead of everyone else so I can check the area out. Just in case that option won't work and we have to look for an alternative," Hans suggested.

  "All right," the captain replied. "But be very careful."

  From their current location, they could see how the two seas, coming from the north and south, were attempting to slowly break the island in two and devour it like a defenseless sardine. The waves were crashing furiously on the shore, sweeping chunks of recently formed ice away with them and melting what little snow was trying to stick to the surface of the rocks or the thick, coarse grass with deep roots that grew around there. Snow, rocks, cold wind and a feeling of impotence together with fear. That was what prevailed on the island.

  X – Fear

  It was nothing short of astonishing to see how Hans not only arrived before anyone else, but also pitched his tent and explored the immediate vicinity. Everyone felt a little better and regained their self-confidence. A feeling as positive as it was false, since what they failed to notice was the way that Hans was staring at the professor and captain.

  They pitched the rest of the tents and broke down into groups of two to take shelter in them. All except for the captain, who had no one to share his tent with. He remained outside with Hans and Professor Olaf a little longer than the others, using the excuse that they needed to plan the next day's march and to ensure that no danger lurked there. It was a lie. The truth was they wanted to discuss something Hans had found and didn't want to mention to the others.

  "You don't look too good," the captain remarked.

  Hans paid no attention to him and just rubbed his hands together to warm them up.

  "Is everyone in their tents?" he asked.

  "Yes. You can count on no one coming out to bother us. And I don't even know if it's a good idea for us to stay outside too much longer, either."

  "Have a little patience, captain," Hans commented.

  The professor still hadn't said a word. He knew that what Hans wanted to tell them wasn't anything good and every precaution should be taken. If he was proven right, the killer was as ruthless as he was arrogant, always prepared to do whatever it took to get what he desired and be the center of everyone's attention.

  An evil circus clown was how he often thought of him.

  "Here you go!"

  Hans handed over a digital camera to them and crossed his arms.

  "Very cute," the professor said sarcastically.

  "What did you say?" asked Hans in amazement.

  He looked over and saw they were looking at a photo he took as soon as they landed. When no one was looking, he had lowered his pants and taken a selfie of his naked butt, with the ship sailing away in the background and the storm
rolling in.

  The captain brought his hand up to his mouth and tried not to laugh.

  "No! That's not what I wanted to show you," he cried. "Look at the next ones."

  The expression on both men's faces changed in a flash.

  "You can't see very clearly," the captain advised.

  "Take a look at the next ones, I took several shots."

  The four frozen bodies, lying beneath a thin layer of ice, resembled fragments of rock that blended in with the rest of the landscape. The faces of the dead men, devoid of any expression or color, stained by their own blood, tormented the thoughts of the adventurer who thought he understood what had happened right away.

  "Their own comrades executed them. They didn't expect it."

  You goddamn bastard. What are you trying to do? the professor thought.

  The three men continued looking at the photos for a while longer and then shifted to observing the area around them. Perhaps someone had them under surveillance or even worse, some trigger-happy gunman might have them in the sights of his automatic weapon.

  XI – Redemption

  Over half a century before...

  The sound of raindrops sliding into the calm surface of the water broke the silence of the gloomy locale. Far away from there, in a world devastated by war and the vanity of men, everything that was already known and all that was yet to be known was being torn apart by the fury of the demented and the greedy. Although between the shadows of death and the desperation of souls rotten to the core, a ray of light called hope could always be glimpsed.

  The men risking their lives for their beliefs were impatient and uneasy. They couldn't believe they hadn't been arrested or hanged by then. Too many happy coincidences or perhaps it was nature's way of imposing a bit of balance amid so much disorder and desperation.

  We are going to do a great deal of good, thought the Nazi captain.

  His partners and the crew weren't thinking of themselves but of the common good, a surprising way to compensate for and eradicate the horrific nightmares that plagued them during that entire period. They yearned for the deep, unconcerned sleep they enjoyed as children, when one played at hitting rocks in Texas and the other two argued over who was going to lead the toy soldier army of Napoleon, and who would command the Prussians. Friends in peace and opponents in war due to some beliefs and ideas that had never been proven. The world of the absurd.