To the Stars -- and Beyond. Damien Broderick
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“There’s somethin’ else, somethin’—”
He broke off abruptly as if suddenly aware he was on the point of saying something he shouldn’t.
“Go on,” I urged. “This is just between you and me, Matt.”
“There’s another island close to that where the Kanakys live. That’s where they offer their sacrifices. Obed got me and two others to row him out there one night. God, it was horrible. Not just the ruins that looked as if they’d lain on the bottom of the sea for millions of years, but what we heard and saw while we were there, on the other side of the island. Things comin’ up out o’ the sea like fish and frogs, only they walked on two legs like men, croakin’ and whistlin’ like demons.”
I saw him shudder at the memory. “Obed never went back to that accursed island again. I reckon even he was scared by what we saw.”
Finishing my drink, I thanked him for his information and left. As a staunch member of the Baptist Church, I knew that it was my duty to warn others of Marsh’s activities. But without proof, it was doubtful if I would be even listened too. Obed was a prominent figure in town and after all, it had long been an established practice for sea captains to exchange goods with the natives of these far-flung islands. Before I could tell anyone, I needed to know a lot more about what Obed was bringing into Innsmouth apart from gold.
It was then I decided to wait for his return from his latest voyage. I already knew that both the Hetty and the Columbia had sailed some seven months previously, leaving the Sumatra Queen tied up at the harbor for repairs.
Over the next few weeks, I made discreet inquiries concerning these ships, and finally ascertained they were due off Innsmouth some five weeks later. I had already decided upon the best vantage point to maintain a close watch on any activity without exposing myself to view. Accordingly, on the night in question, I made my way along Water Street to the harbor. The night was dark and starlit with no moon, and I let myself into one of the large warehouses lining the waterfront.
Going up to one of the upper storeys, I crouched down by the window from where I had a clear and unrestricted view of the entire harbor. Although dark, there was sufficient starlight for me to readily make out the irregular black outline of Devil Reef perhaps a mile and a half away.
It was almost midnight when I spotted the two ships rounding Kingsport Head. The Columbia was in the lead with the Hetty about half a mile astern. Twenty minutes later, after following the movements of the two vessels closely, it became apparent that Marsh meant to bring them both into the harbor rather than anchor offshore.
By the time the vessels had docked, a further hour had passed. There was much activity on both ships and the tall figure of Captain Marsh was clearly visible. By shifting my position slightly, I was able to watch closely as the cargoes were unloaded onto the quayside. Much of it consisted of large bales, which were carried into the warehouse adjacent to that in which I had concealed myself. There was little talk among the men, much of the work being carried out in complete silence. After a while, the crews vanished along Water Street, and only Marsh and one crewman were left on board the Columbia.
When they eventually disembarked, they were carrying a large chest between them, and it was this, I guessed, that contained more of the gold which Marsh was bringing back from that unnamed island in the South Seas.
I now had ample confirmation as to the source of this gold, and had Marsh continued merely with smuggling such trinkets, there was little that could be said against him. Prior to the war, during the privateering days, such activities were commonplace in Innsmouth, and were certainly not frowned upon by the townsfolk.
By now, Marsh seemed to have fully accepted this pagan religion of those natives with whom he traded on a regular basis. He began to speak out vociferously against all of the religious communities, urging anyone who would listen to abandon their Christian faith and worship this pagan god, promising them wealth beyond their wildest dreams if they did so.
Had we all listened to the Reverend Joseph Wallingham, who entreated his congregation to have nothing to do with those who worshipped pagan gods and worldly goods; had I known then what I was to discover the next time the Sumatra Queen returned from that accursed island, all of the ensuing madness might have been averted.
But few heeded the Reverend Wallingham, and it was a further year before that fateful night when the Sumatra Queen docked. It is hard to say what gave me the notion that Obed Marsh was smuggling something more than gold into Innsmouth, or what brought to my mind the recollection of the old tunnels beneath the town, leading from the sea into the very center of Innsmouth.
But remember them I did. For two nights, I concealed myself on top of the cliff overlooking the shore, but without any untoward happenings. On the third night, however, a little before midnight, I observed a party of men moving along the beach from the direction of the harbor. It was clear the men believed themselves to be safe from prying eyes, for they carried lanterns, and as they drew near the entrance to one of the tunnels, almost immediately below my hiding place, I recognized Obed Marsh in the lead, with Matt Eliot and five of the crew close behind.
But it was the sight of the others accompanying them that sent a shiver of nameless dread through me, so that I almost cried out. Without doubt they were natives brought back from that terrible island, and even in the dim light cast by the bobbing lanterns, I could see there was something distinctly inhuman about them.
Their heads were curiously distorted, with long, sloping foreheads, outthrust jaws, and bulging eyes like those of a frog or fish. Their gait, too, was peculiar, as if they were hopping rather than walking.
Trembling and shaking, I lay there and watched as the party entered the tunnel mouth and disappeared. Not until a full half hour had passed was I able to push myself to my feet and stagger back into town.
God alone knew how many of those creatures Marsh had smuggled into Innsmouth under the unsuspecting noses of the population, concealing them somewhere in his mansion on Washington Street.
At the time, I could tell no one. Marsh had too tight a hold on all who sailed with him for any of them to talk. What dire purpose lay behind this wholesale importation of these natives, I couldn’t begin to guess. I knew full well there had to be a reason, but Marsh kept it to himself, and none of the creatures were ever seen on the town streets, even after dark.
Over the next two years, whenever he was in town, Marsh continued his tirade against the established churches; and when several of the leading churchmen unaccountably disappeared, it became abundantly clear that he intended to become the only force in Innsmouth, and those who did not join him also had a tendency to vanish in peculiar circumstances or were driven out of the town.
Then, suddenly and without warning, disaster struck Innsmouth. A terrible epidemic swept through the town, a disease for which there seemed no remedy. Hundreds, including my own wife, died during the outbreak. The few doctors could do nothing to stem the spread of the disease, merely declaring that it was one of foreign origin they had never encountered before. Almost certainly, they maintained, it had been brought into Innsmouth by one of the vessels trading with the Orient.
The dead and dying were everywhere. There was no escape, since the Federal authorities, on hearing of it, quarantined the entire town and surrounding region. By the time the contagion had burnt itself out, almost half of the population had succumbed.
Now, for the first time, I spoke out of what I had witnessed that night on the cliffs. Other townsfolk then came forward to tell of curious foreigners glimpsed in the fog, particularly along the waterfront at dead of night, some swimming strongly out to sea in the direction of Devil Reef, and many more coming in the other direction.
We knew that something had to be done, and a meeting was hurriedly convened to discuss the rapidly deteriorating situation. There, it was agreed that no other course of action was open to us but to raid the Marsh mansion. Further action would depend upon what we found there. It was essential, of course, that no intimation of this plan should reach Obed, for there were now several of the townsfolk who appeared to have thrown in their lot with him.
Two Federal investigators, agents