Frankenstein: The Last Man Part 2. A Strange Discovery.

The sun rose for another day over the empty European continent. After all this time it was still appalling to think that only myself and the birds of the sky and the animals of the ground inhabit this once great land. My heart still clung to the hope of another survivor, someone, anyone, and I would search the entire globe if necessary. I’d just left the wondrous and vacant city of Rome, and considered departing into Africa or Asia. Yet I could not resist heading north one final time.

This particular tale began after I’d constructed a small raft and went drifting down the Danube, through a region men used to call Bavaria. The sun shined down over the waters and as the morning went on I could see a small city ahead. It was partly surrounded by what looked like a foreboding ancient wall. I’d intended to continue down the river, but a desire to explore grew within me. I docked my raft and entered the city through a large walkthrough gate. While traveling through the village, I spotted a few other fortifications that remained intact. There was a tannish colored rectangular building, with a round tower like structure at its center. In a more forested area sat a grey stone structure. Upon seeing this I intended to camp here for the night, but wanted to explore more.

There were a few other Gothic buildings and a few churches. The largest of which was a Russian orthodox church with two onion domed towers. Some of the buildings had a yellowish tint, including one place downtown with a pair of shutter windows, to the right of which was a picture of a dragon and an inscription, but it was too faded to read. To the right was an image of two shields.

In vain, I’d wandered into some of the homes, hoping to find some person, anyone still walking this Earth. It was maddening to imagine another lone survivor in some home somewhere, and missing a chance of companionship by mere chance. Seeing the once inhabited rooms my mind drifted back to happier times surrounded by friends and laughter, but these things were all gone now. Still I did not spend long in this sea of my nostalgia. I may have had all the time in the world, but did not wish to spend that time adrift in memory.

Now the day was getting late and I was growing weary, but there was one final place I felt drawn too. It called out to me as something from a dream. There was a garden, what looked to be a man-made garden, organized with stone walkways. Behind the garden was another rectangular building with two extensions jutting out at both sides. Its colors were a faded yellow and white with a red roof. The right side the building was collapsed; rubble and debris lay about. A few decayed bodies were also present, tarnishing this otherwise beautiful location.

Upon inspection of the building it appeared to be a museum of the history of medical science. Near the entrance were exhibits covering ancient medicine, including folk religious practices, and the process of draining.

The upstairs broke down the history of medicine by subject, ophthalmology, gynecology, dentistry. Apparently botany was also once taught to the students, as it was represented here. One room had a marvelous baroque ceiling fresco

In the adjoining wing featured various tools for medical diagnostics, the hand dynamometer, a laboratory microscope. One room had a pharmacy, and the final section contained equipment for treating the ear, nose, and throat, and also held a large collection of tinted eye glasses. Selected medical equipment was present, such tools for surgery using beams of light, and the first artificial kidney and an iron lung.

In the open sky I could see the sun going down behind me and decided to take shelter here. I was in the nearby woods gathering firewood when I heard the rustling. My heart almost leapt from my chest. Did I finally find a survivor, someone to have as a companion? It was then I saw them, two black eyes staring out at me, its black nose sniffing the forest air. Without hesitation I shot the deer with my crossbow. In my early manhood I had become a civilized man, learned and cultured, but in my youth I was wild and untamed. The knowledge that later came from books and philosophy had no use for me in this desolate world.

The deer was gutted and I’d cooked the meat over a campfire. It was a clear evening, and there was no reason to be weary of sleeping outside. I supposed one advantage of being Earth’s last man is having no fear of robbery. Light from the fire flickered over the rubble nearby. I pondered what could have happened to this structure. I wandered over to the rubble and randomly sifted through it. Amongst the debris were a few books and other items that I presumed were once exhibits in the museum. Before I knew it I’d dug further and further, tossing rock and debris over my shoulder. Some secret ambition possessing my spirit drove me down into the earth. Finally I hit a large slab of stone. With my fingers clasped around its edges I pried it from the earth, and there under the moonlight I saw it. A massive arm stuck out of the soil. I uncovered more dirt and before long the body of a large man lay present before me. In the time before the plague I’d known some tall men, but he was the tallest I’d ever seen. My fire was still burning some distance behind me. Using the firewood I made a long torch and planted it near the ground close to the debris. The new torchlight allowed a clearer look at my find. He had deep black hair with a few specks of grey, and the whitest teeth. He did not appear to have died from the plague, in fact, although covered in stone I could find no wounds on his body to ascertain the cause of death. Since the body did not appear to have decayed I presumed he had died recently, yet his clothes were alien to me. It was a completely fascinating find. I sat down with the debris surrounding me, incapable of lifting my eyes from the man. Before long I nodded off.

Time had little meaning to me anymore, but it must have been deep into the night when I awoke. I sat up immediately, my head darting around in the night sky. My body shook as though awakened by a bolt of lightning. Nothing seemed unusual about my surroundings. I looked over to the body, it had not been disturbed, but I moved towards it, drawn by some irresistible force. I was being drawn to the most impossible moment of my existence, something I would never believe in a hundred years. First the fingers twitched. Though disturbing it was not unusual. Cadavers are known to have sparse movements, but then his chest began to slowly rise and fall. His eyes fluttered. How could he be alive? It was impossible for him to be alive. How long could he have been here and still be alive? Yet here he was, alive alive!

It did not strike me at first, but when reading this travelogue of a journey down the Danube river, a startling revelation came to my mind. It appeared this traveler was speaking of the city of Ingolstadt in the Bavarian mountains of Germany. The gate he describes at the edge of the city may have been the Kreutzor, constructed in 1385. It seems the Church of Our Lady was mentioned, as are what perhaps may be the old city hall, the Reduit Tilly, where the crown jewels and constitution were kept, and the grey tower Trivia in Klenzepark. Due to its location in the man-made garden, I presume the museum may be the old anatomy building of the former university of Ingoldsadt.

Ingolstadt, how would a prophetess from the founders of civilization know of this place? Admittedly there is much room to be skeptical of my claim, yet I believe in my heart it to be true. It was here I was graced with many stimulating discussions with various intellects. My dear Percy, now departed from me, even introduced me to a learned group of men there. They had their own private, what they called Church of learning. Please forgive me for pausing the narrative so I may stop and take a moment of wonderment. 

What Disney Properties Could be Included in the Marvel Universe?

When Disney bought Lucasfilm last year, many people speculated when and if there would be a crossover between Star Wars and Marvel Comics, which Disney also bought a few years ago. If you ask me I think that will happen eventually, either in comic book form (the easiest route) or on screen. It got me thinking of what other Disney properties Marvel could incorporate into their world. One Lucasfilm property immediately jumped to mind. I think the following properties could easily be incorporated into the Marvel 616 Universe.

1. Garygoyles.

With New York City being a prominent location in the Marvel Universe, this 90s Disney cartoon about Gargoyles in the big apple is a natural fit. The cartoon features Gargoyles from 10^th century Scotland perched atop buildings in the modern day big apple. During the day they are just stone statues but at night they come alive and have adventures involving fighting against their version of the Illuminati. They are also aided by a New York cop.  Gargoyles could easily bump into other New York based characters such as Spiderman, Daredevil, Punisher, etc, as well as more magic/horror based characters such as Dr. Strange and Ghost Rider.

2. Tron:

This 80s Franchise about a virtual video game like world to date has had one sequel as well as various video game and comic book tie ins. Tron blends well with science based heroes like the Fantastic Four and Iron Man. It also could be incorporated into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, filling in some of the pre-Iron Man history of that world, perhaps with the Stark company having dealings with Encom, a company in the Tron universe. Iron Man and/or the Avengers exploring the digital world of Tron would at least make a good video game.

3. Indiana Jones

When Disney bought Lucasfilm one of the first things I thought of was I hope Indy gets in the Marvel Universe. The adventures of a World War II era archaeologist preventing Nazis from gaining powerful ancient artifacts fits perfectly into the Golden Age of the Marvel Universe. An Indy/Captain America story practically writes itself, as do stories involving Atlantis, Wakanda, the Savage Land, Marvel’s take on ancient Egypt, and countless other possibilities.

Speaking of Captain America, like Tron, the Indiana Jones films could easily be retro-actively included into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In fact, Captain America, The First Avenger even has a backhanded reference to Raiders of the Lost Ark. When the Red Skull finds the Tesseract, he says “And Der Fuehrer searches for trinkets in the desert.” Of course at the time this line was just kind of a joke, but now Disney owns Lucas-film. Unfortunately we’ll probably never see a Captain America/Indiana Jones movie, but an in canon video game with the voice of Harrison Ford would be nice, or at the very least a comic book mini-series.

If nothing else it would add just under 2 billion dollars to the MCU gross, putting it just behind Harry Potter as the #2 highest grossing franchise at 6.9 billion dollars.

What do you think? What other properties could fit?

Frankenstein: The Last Man Part One, The Unknown Tale

Frankenstein: The Last Man my latest story in what I call the Crosso-verse. My first story was Frankenstein: The Illuminatus Complex, which was followed by a sequel exclusively on my website. This particular story will be exclusive to this blog.

Part One, The Unknown Tale

It has been over ten years since the publication of The Last Man. Despite the harshness it received from critics in the world of literature, it remains in my heart one of my fondest books. I stand by my adoration of this text in spite it resulting in being called diseased and other such terrible statements. Part of my loyalty to this shunned work is my own affection to characters. Many have presumed these them to be, due to certain traits they possessed, analogues to both myself and those of my inner circle. However the strongest reason my heart clings to The Last man is the extraordinary circumstances in which it came about. My imagination has been referred to as sickening in regards to this text, when in fact, it did not come from my imagination at all.

As I’d detailed in the novel’s introduction, my encounter with this tale began during my tour of Italy. During this period of my life I suffered the most crushing pain, as both my dear children Clara and William were taken from me. Their memory never extinguished from my heart. Although this time is associated with immense sorrow and loss, the Italian countryside itself is still holds fond memories. As I have written elsewhere, the Italian country was painted by my memory as a paradise.

It was December of 1818 that in this paradise I explored a cave with a companion of my late husband. We were given a tour of what was allegedly the cave of Cumaean Sibyl, the ancient oracle of the Greek God Apollo who wrote prophecies in her cavern. My partner and I initially were not impressed. It’s blank walls bore no trace of visits from the divine. However we spied a small opening to decide, and wished to explore further. Our two guides insisted we not, vainly trying to warn us of specters as well as more natural hazards. Hence my companion grabbed the torch from our guide, and the two of us went on our way.

For but a moment the warnings might have appeared correct. The passage grew more and more narrow, to the point where we were almost crawling like infants. Fortunately we came into a wider space. We were able to stand upright again, but our torch blew out by a current of air. With no way to rekindle our light, we had no choice to go back the way we came.

But after some time heading back we accidentally stumbled into another area. It was a large cavern, the stone roof forming an almost dome like shape, and a hint of light crept in from above, giving the space an almost church-like atmosphere. It was in this place we made the most startling discovery, and my companion realized we were in fact in Sibyl’s cave, as it was filled with leaves and pieces of bark, all of which had various writings on them. What was very strange were the languages of the writings ranged from ancient Chaldee and Egyptian Hieroglyphics, to dialects of English and Italian. The writings did contain what were then prophecies, descriptions of various events, including names that would be now known to modern people.

Over the course of time we excavated our discovery, only sharing it with a select few. Our acquaintances obsessed over what the ancient prophetess might tell us about today’s world.  What captured my attention more was a specific tale of loss and tragedy, which I naturally gravitated toward. The tale was not of our time, nor of any time in the past, but in fact the setting was in a time long after ours. At first my acquaintances were intensely eager for me to unfold the narrative, but quickly dismissed it as the tale offered little speculation as to how this world of far tomorrows differed from our own. Still I continued on, sensing I had some duty to complete the tale, and needing something to occupy my mind from the unbearable tragedies my life had befallen.

The story was intensely tragic itself. It was a tale of catastrophe that reached every corner of the Earth. The end of the tale featured one lone survivor, hence my titling the story The Last Man.

As I’d mentioned it was not greeted warmly, and I promised my editor my next writing to be of greater spirits. Subsequent work was better received, such as my novel Lodore, but the leaves of Cumean Sibyl always beckoned back to me. What no one knew, perhaps because no one asked, was The Last Man was not Sibyl’s final prediction. Events of my creative and personal life delayed me often, but soon I was able to piece together one more narrative taking place after the events of my apparent least favored work. In some ways connected to the first narrative, but with certain characteristics that simultaneously strike it dissimilar. It seems a tragedy that only a few will experience this tale, but perhaps it for the best. While The Last Man was savaged, the events of this new tale are so shocking I fear the literary community may not even believe it came from my hand. Violence and horror is hardly a thing to be associated with my work, and this tale is filled with such. And there is one particular creature, and I use this word because I dread to even think it a man, let alone a man who presumably, according to the oracle, existed, or will exist, or, as impossible as it sounds, could even exist now. A creature so unbelievable no one could ever think to associate it with my name.

I have delayed the telling of the tale long enough. I’ve accepted the probability that only you of my inner circle shall ever read it. May you find some pleasure in it that I never could.

Star Trek Into Darkness

Star Trek into Darkness is the second film of the J. J. Abrams rebooted Star Trek series. It opens with a tense scene of Spock putting a stop to a volcano that threatens to wipe out a primitive civilization, and Kirk saving his life and breaking the rules in the process by revealing themselves to the planets inhabitants. This leads to a situation where the two have a rift before investigating a fugitive terrorist.who blew up the Starfleet archives. (This is done with the reluctant help of man who is a member of Starfleet who has a terminally ill daughter. This plot point is abandoned after the explosion.)

The rest of the plot goes from this point as we learn the true identity of the villain  The narrative gives a few twists and turns and is a nice mix of action and character beats. The relationships between the characters is the film’s strong point.

I don’t know Star Trek lore very much but there’s a reference to the tribbles, and parts of the film mirror one of the early Star Trek films. At one point it appears the movie will take a gutsy risk in it’s ending, but does not.

There is a reference to a spaceship named Bradbury which I liked.

Regarding the first movie, some fans didn’t like the time travel bit. I thought it was unnecessary. One scene in this movie references it, but the scene is completely unnecessary, so you could pretend it didn’t happen if you like.

As someone who traditionally was not a Star Trek fan, I’d say this is my favorite Star Trek thing I’ve experienced. It’s a pretty good movie and better than it’s predecessor.

Frankenstein: The Illuminatus Complex Preview Part Two

This is the second part of the preview to my novella Frankenstein: The Illuminatus Complex.

Part one of the preview is here.  A direct sequel to the story is here.

Cover by David Ellis.

Part Two

After reading this I knelt down and wept, but more tragedy was to come. It was as if Shakespeare himself had written a horrid play of my life, torturing me with his feathered pen. Mother received word that my father also had died. The details were strangely vague, but he and several other people had perished in some sort of laboratory accident. It was a shock almost too great to bear. Although our relationship had been strained, my mother and I both loved him. Two tragedies side by side were simply too much.

Mother was comforted to know I had no desire to follow in my father’s footsteps; instead I followed in my grandfather’s. Using some money my father left me I hired a ship’s crew and before I knew it I was a captain of my own ship. Being young and courageous I was anxious to see the world. In time I ran shipments to various places in the Americas, Africa, and the mysterious orient. On my journeys I sometimes took one of Grandfather’s logs with me, retracing some of his footsteps, reading his memories. Though I did not finish them all, they brought great comfort to me when I read them. They brought his presence close to me when sailing the Mediterranean, or when watching the sun set over the Atlantic.

Then the day came where I set out to do what my grandfather and others could not, cross the Northwest Passage. The day I left was a fine day. Mother greeted me at the docks. We both endured much tragedy, but she stood firm and proud of her son. Naturally she held some fear for my journey, the Franklin expedition still fresh in people’s minds. We embraced and spoke of our love for each other. “I can see your grandfather in you.” she said. That may have been the proudest moment of my life.

It was here the curtain raised on the third act of my Shakespearean tragedy. Like my grandfather, my voyage was not successful. Neither the ship nor my crew was sturdy enough to endure the arctic ice. Upon bearing the chill of the northern winds, I knew that neither was I. Soon I returned with a shame that tore at my very soul, I had failed. Worse news came upon returning. During my travels my mother had fallen into poor health, and died very suddenly. My entire being was wracked with grief and guilt. My father had abandoned my mother in pursuit of personal glory, now I had done the same, and she was gone.

Such a lonely creature I was now, my closest family gone. I couldn’t bear to look at the sea again. I sold my ship and became adrift on land. Misfortune continued; bad investments and ill luck got the better of me. Soon I found myself indebted to many with little resources of my own. Life had hit me hard, and I took to the bottle to wash away my sorrows. My time at sea was done I thought, and I became just another lost soul drifting in the streets. In youth we all dream of becoming someone great, but the cold truth was that now I was no one.

My last day in civilization was dark and dreary. I was wasting away at the local tavern. It was a rough rowdy place filled with brawls and debauchery. I sat near the door in my own drunken world. Suddenly A large hand slapped my back, a voice followed, “Victor, you know who we are?” I turned to see two large men standing before me. Misfortune had caught up with me again.

“Mr. Worth wants his money, and he wants it now.”

I was indebted to so many that I couldn’t even recall which one Mr. Worth was.
“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.” one of them said.

I answered, “Don’t worry I have your money. I have it right here.”

I reached into my coat feigning to get some money. The two hesitated, fearing I’d draw a pistol. Instead my other hand gripped a bottle and struck one of them on the head. I threw up my chair knocking the other one down and dashed out the door. “Schultz, let’s get him!” I heard one of them yell as I ran out into the rain.

I wish I could spin a better yarn of an exciting chase, but truth is in my stupor I was lucky to get this far. Soon I stumbled into an alley and tripped over a pile of debris. Through the rain I could see my pursuers catching up to me. One had a gash on his face, the blood mixed in with the rain pouring down. His partner behind him said “Well, Schultz, I think he doesn’t have our money.”

“I think you’re right, Remus. We’re just gonna have to take what we can.” An evil glint flashed in his eyes as he pulled out a blade. Coming closer he leaned down to me, pointing the knife at my face smiling. “I’m gonna gut you like a pig!”

And this is how I thought my miserable life would end, killed in a dingy alley over a minor gambling debt. In my mind I could do no worse. Resigned to my fate I looked up at him hunching over me. The blade was approaching my face when I heard a small popping sound. Schultz arched back and let out a wet gasp. A pool of blood emerged from his stomach, and he fell dead beside me. Over his body I could see a short man covered in black behind Remus. He held a tiny gun in his hand. A whiff of smoke rose out of the barrel and disappeared in the rain. Then he put his gun away. I had no idea who this was. For all I knew it was different criminal I owed money to who wanted a piece of me for himself. Shultz lunged at him. This mysterious man lifted a gloved hand in the air and grabbed Schultz’s chin. Schultz convulsed violently, the smell of cooked flesh filled the alley, and soon Shultz lay dead beside his partner. His eyes burned out of his sockets. Who on earth could this be? Was I imagining things through drunken eyes? Was this man some sort of super-being? I learned later he had an electric device in his glove, which ran a current through his victim, frying him from the inside.

“Who are you?” I called out.

A peculiar voice whose accent I couldn’t quite trace spoke. “I saved your life. That’s all you need know for now. Come.” He turned away and began walking out of the alley. I was in an almost a dreamlike state as he led me out of the alley to a large black carriage. I remember its horses were so enormous, with the deepest black manes. “Get in, Victor, all will be explained in due time.”

“Where are we going?”

He turned to me one last time. His face was pale and he had dark sullen eyes. “Would you rather stay here and see who else is looking for you?” I said nothing more and entered the carriage. In the back compartment I sat alone, while my companion sat in the front. He was silent when I asked his name or how he knew me. All I could do at that point is sit back and try to settle my spirits. Looking out over the rainy streets I’d passed out from exhaustion.

When I awoke I looked out the carriage to see a large metal gate in front of a stone mansion. The rain had let up and the moon illuminated the night sky. I let myself out of the carriage and asked “So where are we?” Again he did not answer as he opened the large oak door and directed me inside. He finally spoke to me as we ascended the marble staircase.

“Your benefactor will explain everything, but first you must get cleaned up. A hot bath has been drawn for you with a clean set of clothes set aside. You are probably famished so a meal is being prepared. After that you will meet your benefactor, and all will be explained.” Had I been in a better state of mind I might have been more cautious in accepting such strange hospitality, but earlier in the day my life almost ended, so I did not object. Even if this was some form of trickery, I was just as well prepared to live it up, and live it up I did. After a hot bath and a shave I found the new set of clothes. There was a comfortable pair of shoes, a fine cotton shirt, and a dinner jacket of better quality than anything in my wardrobe.

Next was dinner. Not since my mother was alive had I such a fine meal. I feasted on all variety of meats, the finest cheeses and freshest vegetables the earth had to offer. This nourishment brought me back to my senses, and now I wanted to know what was afoot. My quiet companion came in and said “It is now time.”

I was led from the dining hall into a large library. It was a maze of huge oak bookshelves filled with books on every subject imaginable; the arts, science, literature, history, religion, the forbidden arts, and more. While walking across the fine carpeted floor I even recognized a few books on ocean life, including two volumes of Mysteries of the Great Submarine Grounds. Scattered throughout were large tables accompanied by many chairs, enough to host a large audience for reading sessions or whatever pursuit’s intellectuals did. Only one man waited to greet me, a small frail man with a few wisps of white hair. Around his neck was a strange medallion of a crescent moon. Great wisdom hung from his eyes. My first impression of him was pity. He sat at the head of two rows of chairs; at his table was a glass lamp. To one side hung a peculiar painting of a bird-headed man standing atop a sun. He laid eyes on me and spoke.

Now Read the rest of the Story!

Fast Review Fast Six

Fast Six is the fifth installment of the famous Fast and the Furious Franchise. Picking up from where Fast Five (Fast and the Furious Five) left off, Vin Diesel’s Dominic Toretto and the gang are retired and living the good life from the last film’s big job. The film opens with Brian and Mia becoming parents to baby Jack, The Rock’s character from the last movie, Luke Hobbs, asks them to come out of retirement to help catch a gang of thieves intent on stealing military hardware. The hook Hobbs has over Vin Diesel’s character Dominic is that he has evidence that his old girlfriend Letty is still alive (having apparently been killed a few movies back).

So the old crew is back together, and it’s basically said out loud that their opponents are basically mirror images of themselves. As usual the action is over the top but in a fun way. There’s a nice angle of Dominic and the main villain named Shaw. Dominic believes in loyalty with his crew (a theme stressed throughout the series and one of its strongpoints) while to Shaw any of his crew are cogs in the machine that can be replaced. The Rock is so huge on screen he almost doesn’t seem like a real person. His opening few lines and scenes give this impression further.

The explanation for Letty’s survival is kind of soap opera-ish but is pulled off. It does open up a love triangle situation for Dominic that is kind of just brushed off at the end. There’s a great false ending that I almost wish would have just led to the next movie, but instead everything is resolved. There is a plot twist with one of the characters that I did see coming, but the false ending made me think they weren’t going there, but then they did. This twist did also explain a gripe I had about one of the fight scenes.

The true ending does set up the next film and has a surprise cameo that is sure to please fans of modern action films.

I’m a late comer to Fast and the Furious. Only in the last few years did I catch some of these movies. There’s still a couple I missed but it seems like a pretty consistent enjoyable franchise.

Frankenstein: The Illuminatus Complex

Frankenstein: The Illuminatus Complex is a novella I wrote that can be purchased here. 

Discover the Secret of Frankenstein, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea! What is the secret history of the Frankenstein experiment, and will the world survive its revelation? Thrill to the opening saga of the Crosso-verse, where worlds of fiction collide!

Cover by David Ellis. 

I also wrote a short sequel to this story which can be found exclusively online here. 

Another sequel is exclusively on this blog.

Below is a preview to Frankenstein: The Illuminatus Complex..

Part One

The actions of my father hovered over me for most of my life. At times they were like dark clouds raining sorrow upon me, while other times those same clouds were white with hope and illumination. In my young life I tried to strike out on my own to make my own name for myself, but in this feat I was not the victor, as my father named me to be.

My early years were happy. As a young boy my father filled my mind with the wonders of science and the mysteries of the world. He was a prideful, if sometimes boastful man. He named me Victor after himself, saying I was his greatest achievement. As I grew older I learned this pride was a mask to hide his occasional insecurity and aloofness. Mother on the surface was a kind, gentle woman, but underneath laid a great strength and iron like sturdiness. From her I learned literature, which I regrettably neglected in my manhood, but as a boy I knew of the great poets like Milton and Shakespeare, and from both parents I was blessed with a happy home. Or as Charles Dickens wrote, my home was a place “in default of a better, those I love are gathered together.”

My father was a scientist, respected and admired. As a child I often heard him boast of the wonders of science during this enlightened age. With a great passion he believed that science would bring mankind into a bold new era. “Each day,” he boasted, “science marches on to the limits of human knowledge. One day soon, mankind will grow so wise, that we will know what it is to be gods!” Regrettably it was this overconfidence that led to his undoing, and had drastic consequences for me and the rest of my family. As I grew older he was often away with his work. For months he’d toil away in his laboratory, refusing to see any visitors.

With my father absent I began spending more time with my grandfather, my father’s father, as well as Great Aunt Margaret. Grandfather was a retired sea captain. He still had his ship, and during these years he taught me some of the ways of sea life. He held some interest in science as well, which I believe was the spark that sent my father on his boundless quest for knowledge. My grandfather at times felt guilty about my father’s neglect, as if he felt responsible or had erred in some way. Hence he began spending time with me, passing on what he could. He adored my mother. In his youth he had briefly been a poet, and gave my mother many old editions of books from the greats like Homer and Shakespeare. In fact, much to the chagrin of my father, he once gave an original copy of A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, by Mary Wollstonecraft.

One of my fondest memories with him and Great Aunt Margaret was sailing near Greenland. We watched the sun set near the top of the world. Amongst us were gargantuan icebergs, the purist white in color. Floating next to them we were like ants staring at a cube of ice. The chilled air was so fresh and pure, as if we were breathing the air of a new world. Our breath visible in cold thick primordial clouds, it was as if we were the first life forms to breathe on this planet. “There,” my grandfather said, ‘lays the Northwest Passage. Not very long ago the Franklin expedition was lost somewhere in that ice while trying to find a trade route between Asia and the New World.” I had heard of the Franklin expedition. The mystery of its fate was the talk of the day. Two ships, the Erebus and the Terror, which were equipped with new powerful steam engines, had vanished. They were commanded by Sir John Franklin. Recently Francis McClintock’s expedition returned from its two year journey to find the lost Franklin ships. They did not return with good news. Near King William’s island in the Canadian Arctic, skeletal remains of the lost expedition were found.

I mentioned to my grandfather rumors that the lost expedition resorted to cannibalism. It was a fiercely controversial topic. Franklin’s widow, Lady Jane Franklin, verbally attacked anyone who made such a suggestion. She even had the support of Charles Dickens, who wrote several pamphlets on the matter. When I asked Grandfather his opinion on the topic, he paused for a moment, staring into the deep ice, as if he’d just remembered some long-forgotten tragedy. “I braved it once.” He answered. “I once tried to pass through the arctic.”

“Really, what happened?”

“I was just a little older than you. The ice was impossible to get through. Almost didn’t survive, my crew was close to mutiny. What we saw was, impossible……. monstrous.”

For the first time in my life I felt a sense of purpose swell up in me. For one moment I was the mirror image of my father, fiercely confident and determined. “Each year,” I blindly boasted, “better and stronger ships are being built. If you continue to teach me the ways of the sea, one day I can break the Northwest Passage!”

I was expecting to find pride and excitement in Grandfathers eyes, but instead those eyes continued to look toward the north in a cold sense of dread. It was an anticipation of dread, as if he could see some secret evil Pandora’s Box floating in the icy sea before us. “Seek happiness in tranquility.” he muttered. I didn’t understand, but he continued. “A friend, a very good and dear friend once told me, seek happiness in tranquility and avoid ambition.” This seemed something uncharacteristic of my grandfather to say. He went on, “Your father, I tried to teach him many things about science and the world. My departed friends advice is something a father can’t bear to pass on to his son, and I wouldn’t wish to pass it on to you either, but I wish to tell you this. We all have moments where triumph eludes us; do not let this burden you. You still have much life ahead. Never lose your ambition, but know this. Man’s ambition can push him to the greatest heights, but, if too reckless, can sink him into the coldest deepest sea. Remember this on all the journeys of your life.” With that he returned to his cabin, where he remained for the rest of the evening.

I awoke maybe 1:00am that night. There was a noise coming from somewhere on the ship. Was another ship at sea with us? Were we being raided? I opened my cabin door and peered into the blackness outside. My eyes could see nothing, but my ears heard a noise from Grandfathers’ cabin. It was the sound of his voice shouting out in terror! Was he being attacked? I rushed to his cabin, flung the door open, and there he lay before me. On his bed he was twitching, his arms thrashing in the moonlight shining through the window. In his sleep he called out my name, “Victor, Victor, no, no!” I called out to him, shaking his body when he awoke suddenly. He sat up and looked at me with a fear in his eyes. Margaret ran into the room, I asked what he was dreaming about, but he refused to speak. I pressed him for an answer but it was of no use. The nightmare had passed, so I returned to my quarters, but Margaret stayed with him. I heard her quietly whisper “It’s ok. It’s ok he can’t hurt Victor.” Was I in some kind of danger? Was my father? Of such questions, I would get no answer.

My father’s recurring absences caused my dear mother much distress which came to a boil one Christmas day. Mother hosted at our home; her family was there, as were my grandfather and great aunt. Uncle William was there as well, wearing a fine red dinner jacket. Seeing my whole family together was always a pleasure. When I was a boy they showered me with gifts, as I was the only child. This day however, a tension simmered in the air as my father was absent. He promised to be home, but warned he might be late.

That evening, just as my relatives were about to leave, my father came stumbling in. He looked exhausted, as if he had not slept in days. Mother was silent with embarrassment. What would her parents think? Everyone was quiet as they continued to quietly creep out.

My father meekly tried to apologize. “I’m terribly sorry everyone, I’m afraid I lost track of time. Thank you for coming. I’m sure you all had a nice time. Brother William, good to see you.” William shot a nervous grin. “I’m sure you all had a good meal. Elizabeth is a fine host isn’t she?” He glanced at my mother hoping to save face, but she shot him glare so harsh I thought lightning would leap from her eyes. My grandfather also looked on disappointingly. My father’s side of the family was small and sometimes felt the lesser compared to my mother’s side. My father crept over to him and softly spoke. “Father, it’s good to see you. I’m terribly sorry about being late. But actually I need to talk to you about…”

My grandfather interrupted sternly, “I think you need to talk with your family. Margaret and I are leaving now.”

“Oh, you’re leaving? Oh yes, I guess it’s getting late. Well, we must talk soon. Merry Christmas!” His father and aunt said nothing as they walked out the door.

Once all our guests left, my parents had a horrific fight. “Elizabeth, I’m terribly sorry but I’ve been working furiously and haven’t slept in days.”

“It was Christmas Day! Victor, you missed Christmas with your family, with your son!”

“Again I’m terribly sorry Elizabeth, but please know this. Please know that the work that I do, I do it for you and for our son. What I do will bring incredible glory and honor to our family name.”

“Our family name! What does your family name look like to my mother when you abandon your wife and child on Christmas Day? Where is your glory then?”

“Good heavens, I did not abandon you! I’m here now!”

“It’s evening Victor, everyone was worried about you! Why are we not as important as your foolish laboratory experiments?”
Upon hearing that Father flew into mad fit. “Woman you don’t understand! We are on the verge of something remarkable! Something that will change mankind, it will change the whole world forever!”

Mother began sobbing, “What you’re doing is going to change this family forever.” She turned and walked away, saying “There’s some food left, clean the table when you’re finished.” There were only a few hours left of that Christmas day, and it would be the last one we would all spend together.

About a week later my father did in fact speak with my grandfather. We all went to his and Margaret’s home for dinner to celebrate the New Year. My father had stayed home since Christmas, but his mind was always pre-occupied. Things between him and mother had not mended. In private I asked him what great project he was working on, but, as much as he boasted of its importance, he would say nothing more. Dinner was not much different. There was only superficial conversation, talk of current news, the looming civil war in the Americas, local politics. There’d been various thefts on the docks. My grandfather’s ship and a few other ships were looted. Fortunately no one was hurt, and Grandfather said he lost nothing of value. After dinner mother, Margaret, and I went into the reading room and left my father and grandfather to talk. I strained my ears to try to listen, but heard little. After perhaps 20 minutes alone I heard my father shouting in a manner I’d never heard from him. “You must give them to me, I must see them!” The anger in his voice barely covered a sense of panic and desperation.

“Son, please forget this foolishness. Your family needs you, not some scientific monstrosity.”

“Father, you don’t understand, I cannot fail. It’s too important. I must have this to bring honor to our family name! You must not stand in my way!”

We all knew the tragic truth that day. My father, whom I’d loved with all my heart, had become a blind arrogant man who held dreams of scientific glory above all else. Grandfather sternly warned him, “You are nosing into matters which you can’t possibly understand, let alone fully control! If you go down this path it will unleash monstrosities that will not only consume you, but will consume everyone you love!” But my father would hear nothing of it. We left his home and all Father did was complain that his father was standing in the way of his own greatness. He said he needed to return to his work, and as he left no words were exchanged between the three of us.

The next period of my life was the most tragic. A series of events occurred that shook me to my core. The first tragedy was that my father would never see his father again. Soon after they last spoke my grandfather and great aunt perished in a fire. It was the first time in my young life that I felt the pain of loss; the man who was a second father to me was gone. In his will he left me his ship. On the docks I boarded the empty ship, reminiscing about our voyages together. I sat in his cabin where I remembered him having that terrible nightmare. Below his bunk was a small heavy wooden chest with a large metal lock. Shortly before my grandfather died he delivered a key to me, and I found the key fit this lock. Inside I found a series of logs. These were his ship logs from his days as a sailor. He’d left them to me. His old coat he’d worn at sea lay inside along with other personal effects. There was a small painting of him and Margaret along with me with my parents. Atop the books lay a handwritten note. It read

“To my Grandson;
If you are reading this then I have passed from this earth. Margaret and I are most proud of you. We love you as though you were our own son. I leave you the logs of my voyages. You won’t understand this now, but at times I was tempted to leave these at the bottom of the ocean, where many of my friends and companions rest now. In my time I’ve learned that some things are best left unknown. Yet I leave them to you, as I leave you my complete legacy. May you learn from them, and may they guide your life toward noble things. Weep not much for me, for I’ve led a full life. It was Shakespeare who said, “Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste of death but once.” Be brave my beloved grandson, be brave.”

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