Authors: Unknown
Unknown (2 page)
The Watchers saw two of their kind fade from this world to ensure that the one they called Nemesis would be sealed away. Their sacrifice would be remembered even though the remaining members of their kind knew that though the man's essence was strong and good there was now a seed of darkness growing within him.
Have pity on us for our ignorance. We did what we thought must be done and pray only that ruin will be averted. Forgive them for their ignorance for theirs will be a hard life without the light of the world to fill them. Forgive her for what she thought was the only way to give us all a chance at life. Give her peace and solace in the time she wanders this world.
To:
Samuel Crane
From:
Jason Frost
Subject:
Further material for
#
1884 - 5
All entries pertaining to Eugene Smith's account of the
Goliath
construct take place within 1884 and are to be cross-referenced with reports made by Captain Edward Fawkes concerning the death of his third crew (Report
#
43
according to the old indexing system, and
#
1884 - 5
under the new catalog. If other relevant documents are found at a later date they are to be filed, or re-filed under the new system). The journal entries listed below have been copied and archived with permission from Robert Smith, eldest surviving descendant (legal documentation on the matter should be filed with these entries).
The following entries are taken from the journal of Eugene Smith (
1857 - 1914
)
Begin transcription
May 4th
It has been a month since we originally set out from Independence. Much of that time has been spent either in the saddle or belly down on the ground observing. I'm thankful that my initial fears of disagreements and or violence sparked by Bell’s African ancestry and Yuri's supposed allegiance to the Confederacy have so far been unfounded. Regardless, it seemed advantageous to get an agreement amongst our entire party to agree to leave politics, religion, and other equally sensitive topics unspoken for the duration. Are we not, after all, here for a common cause?
Beyond the mundane and routine problems that arise from any trip of this length, broken equipment, occasional grumbling, and other minor issues; our luck has been favorable and kind. The plains have met us with their gentle and expansive beauty. Our base camp is in good order and well provisioned. Hunting has been tolerable, though consisting exclusively of small game till this point. We will take what we can get, but given the price of Buffalo hides back east I would prefer these great lumbering beasts to our current fare.
There have, as yet, been no sign of Indian activity in these parts; for which I am truly grateful. We are in their territory and hunt the same animals they make their livelihood off of. Though I fully understand and sympathize with their desire to be left alone and to keep outsiders at bay, for they have made a living off of this land for longer than any of our families have existed on this continent and view us, rightly so in my opinion, as invaders. Having said this and feeling as I do I still must continue in my current efforts, for this work has proven to be the only thing I find myself both capable of as a means to earn a living, and enjoy doing.
May 7th
Its been three days since I've written last and do so now to record that we have sighted a heard of Buffalo. I wish I were capable of drawing, or that Thomas could be convinced to reproduce the scene. As soon as the horses have been readied Yuri, bell, and myself shall follow the herd close while the rest of our party follows at a far slower pace due to the need to carry the mules, supplies, extra provisions, and the general necessities should we be fortunate enough to fall any of the massive creatures.
Evening
Yuri and I discuss what had brought us out here while Bell was tending the horses. Yuri, it seems, had grown disillusioned with those that continued to try reviving the Confederacy. When pressed he cited that those that claimed to pine for the way things were had degenerated from the ideals of proper conduct and, while blaming their sorry lot on everything but themselves, took their anger and frustrations out on the colored population. He admitted to possessing slaves and showed no remorse for having done so, for that was how things were at the time. While he admits that he was wrong in doing so, he had done what he could to give those that worked under him the best care he had available to him.
At some point during Yuri's explanation Bell had returned. Not wanting him to feel left out I had asked for his take on the matter. His reply struck me both as genuinely unexpected, and yet at the same time it feels profoundly fitting so I leave his exact words here for the sake of posterity.
"The buying and selling of human families is immoral and sinful, but it would be equally immoral and sinful for me to do anything but ask that they seek forgiveness for what they have done and do my best to not seek retribution for events no man can change."
These views summed up my two companions nicely. The conflict I had feared might come about seems to have no chance at materializing and, so far as I can tell, the two men seem to get along quite well with each other. This relieves me, since hearing improbable and tawdry tales around the fire at night, and good-natured banter during the day is most preferable to the alternative.
May 8th
We sit hunkered in the darkness dumbfounded and in awe of the apparitions clashing amid the storm. I know not if we share some sickness or madness, but each agrees that we are seeing the same things. So I continue to record these events despite never being able to share this experience with the wider world for fear of being declared mad and locked away from society.
What we first took for a giant statue, or monument left for reasons unknown, has been boarded by no less than a dozen men, possibly more for I was alerted to this activity midway through their efforts. After these men entered the misshapen figure through an opening in its hind section it rose from its crouching position, extending and flexing misshapen elongated arms, smoke billowing from its mouth, and loped across the plains on all four of its limbs. It appears man-shaped, though its legs appear far shorter and uniformly thick, and its arms reach down, in my estimates, to below its knees were this impossible construct to stand to its full height. This feat, in my opinion, is an impossibility because of the large cannons, which Yuri insists are naval guns, though I fail to see the distinction between the two terms, mounted one over each shoulder blade and seemingly able to use the shoulder joints themselves to pivot and aim.
Yuri and I both agree that if these cannon are functional rather than decorative the behemoth's purpose as a war machine is plain as day. Where we disagree is on who would be capable of its construction, or even gathering the money needed to buy the materials for its construction. He believes that it is a weapon the Union army had created, much as it had created the Monitor, but I disagree. While the Ironclads are an impressive and terrifying sight, they pale in both difficulty of construction and ability to induce fear as what lay ahead of us.
Perhaps an hour has passed since the Giant had started moving, and though it advances towards us I gain no sense that it even notices our presence here. Its movements remain a mystery as we seek shelter from a fierce storm that's blown from all around us. Our horses are frightened and, despite Bell's best efforts and years as a horse handler neither Yuri nor myself wish to approach. The tether that keeps them from running should hold despite their efforts. I hope it does, since I don't look forward to having to walk back to camp and I fear how the others, seeing our horses running fearful and riderless, would react.
More time has passed, the horses finally calmed and beginning to settle despite the wind, and we've caught sight of what the Goliath construct is here for. When I first saw it I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, it has always been my experience that birds do not fly in this weather, yet all of us agree it was out there. As I watched it dive and claw at the iron beast, which produced little if any reaction, I tried to take note of its features in hopes of asking any friendly natives we might come across at a later time.
Even taking into account I'm unsure of how far the combatants were this bird had to be large, as big if not larger than, a draft horse and covered in strange feathers. Look at it once when the lightning flashes and they might be so dark as to be black. Look again and they might be the color of dried blood. This, however, could simply be a trick of the eye, but I include it here for the sake of completeness. The plumage around its head and neck appears to be either a very pale yellow, or possibly white, and similar colored feathering along its chest and one or two white feathers within its tail. Its beak, shaped like a predatory bird's is a dull yellow and, again this could simply be tricks of the mind or the eye, seemingly filled with sharp backward slanting teeth.
Despite its wicked claws and doubtlessly sharp beak, this creature scarcely made a mark on the iron creature. However ineffective its attacks might have been it had to fend off attacks 'against swats from its opponent's arms, blows that if they had connected I am certain would have snapped the great bird like so much kindling. Now it tries going for the 'head', digging its claws into the great beast's neck to gain purchase while it flapped its wings furiously into the hellish maw of its opponent. This prompted what sounded like the billowing of a heard of enraged bulls before a giant hand slapped against the bird's chest in an attempt to pry it loose.
Bell has the spyglass now, leaving me unable to tell what exactly is going on. In a way this is a blessing, as it forces me to focus on the sounds the great and terrible combatants make. Though their noises are surely muffled and obscured by the thunderstorm overhead; the clatter and screaming of iron, animal, and nature must sound like the coming of demons from Hell by anyone and everyone that isn't either deaf as a post, or dead. Yuri and I exchanged glances. For the time being we were well removed from the fighting, but that could well change at a moment's notice. Should we flee? Sense, common or otherwise, screams that we should run as far as our horses will carry us, then keep running once they've dropped dead. We must, however, observe as long as possible if only to warn others of what may end up at their front doors. They won't believe us, not till whole towns start getting slaughtered by giants such as these.
Is that thunder? No. That’s not thunder. It sounds different, and I feel it is a more ominous noise that seems to come from the vicinity of where the twin colossi battle. Yuri, after taking the spyglass from Bell, has informed the rest of us that the Goliath has begun firing on the bird. His voice sounds contemptuous as he explains the futility of trying to hit something that agile and relatively small in these conditions even with cannon shot, which he informs me the beast is likely not firing.
Lightning. The bird, I'm sure it is responsible for this storm as well, has somehow called lightning down on its foe. One strike would have been enough to rend most homes sundered and ablaze. Yet here this iron monstrosity was being subjected to repeated strikes, one right after the other such that the thunder produced has left our ears ringing and, most likely
temporarily, deaf to any other noise. The giant does not move, as surely the men inside that animate it have been rendered into charred and burnt masses by this point. Poor souls all of 'em, whoever they are. They might have been in the wrong here, maybe, maybe not. This is no way to die though, stuffed in with over a dozen other men in the hot confines of a strange beast, sweating and swearing, as they surely must be within the iron monster's gut.
Minutes pass. The bird circles its inert opponent and even at one point perches on it to peer down the gullet of its mouth. The storm begins to clear, possibly having served its purpose or possibly for reasons known only to the divine. The ringing in our ears subsides and we give thanks that our injuries were only temporary. After tending to the horses, making sure they were still unharmed and being thankful that they were, we begun to make ready to leave this place lest the great bird decided we were somehow connected to the iron Goliath. That is, at the very least, what we had intended to do, but that idea was soon abandoned when we heard a great bellowing. The closest I can describe the noise is as a low long train whistle. However this comparison does not do justice to the scale and hair raising qualities of this noise. Our horses streaked and reared, my hair stood on end, and there was a general sense of dread.
Yuri demanded the spyglass, which was given to him with shaky hands. I apologize;I've been trying to recount these events now that we've settled down to, hopefully, obscurity. Unfortunately I'm not sure how to proceed. Between the lightning, thunder, what I believe is more canon fire, and my already frayed nerves I'm unsure if I've made myself clear. Why does it matter if I'm the only one that will read these words? I don't know, I just want; just...just...need to make myself think straight. Yuri's handed the glass off to me and I'm scarcely sure what to write.