The trip aboard the launch was quiet. Whatever speculations the men had as to the origin of the Light, they kept to themselves. The night remained quiet and calm, creating an ominously so, at least to Kasey. The only sounds were the dips of oars into the glassy water. The moon and stars shone, but they were diminished by the intense glow of the Light onshore.
What could it be? thought Kasey.
He looked back to the ship. The two dim little lanterns of the Paragon receded into the distance, as she peacefully bobbed in the dark sea. Kasey felt a sense of foreboding. He suddenly wished he stayed on the Paragon and not connived his way into this exploration.
Could it be the Russians? Or the French? Are we walking into a trap?
Kasey was quite unsure what to do.
The little launch made good time and ran aground softly onto the beach. The eight men aboard, Kasey and the first mate included, disembarked and pulled the rowboat ashore. An unnecessary precaution, as the sea was in no way inclined to make any movement greater than a ripple.
Like most beaches as far north as they were, the beach was rocky and harsh. No sign of life, plant or otherwise. Only a thin layer of snow, from the mild flurries the night before.
The cold water lapped at Kasey’s ankles. The men paused briefly, and then one by one, they removed six muskets from the launch, which were primed and passed amongst the men. The man who watched over the rowboat in the explorers’ absence didn’t get one, nor did Kasey.
”Let’s be off then,” said the first mate gruffly.
And so, the little party set off, leaving one man with the boat.
Kasey began feeling anxious. No wind existed, no noise, nothing. Just the crunching of the gravelly beach under the men's shoes, occasional sniffs, or the clanking of a musket. The beach was short and thin; on one side lay the sleepy sea and on the other were shallow cliffs. Over these hills, the Light spilled starkly, leaving the men on the beach below in shadow. Somewhat inland, lay a low, white mountain, its base where the Light appeared to originate from. The men trudged up the cliff in silence, holding their muskets close and eyes wide.
Kasey once again looked back towards the Paragon, and he could faintly make out the two yellow pinpricks in the darkness. He began feeling frantic.
We’re too far away... We should have waited until morning... There are too few of us... We left a man alone without protection... We have no idea of what awaits us…
These thoughts continued as Kasey and the rest of the men summited the hills. The terrain was flat, rocky, and spread in all directions except that of the beach. They bathed fully in the glow of the Light, which emanated brightly as if it were a second sun at the base of the mountain.
“Hold! Wait!” shouted the first mate.
Kasey and the men stopped, some raising their weapons uncertainly. Kasey squinted into the Light. He made out shapes, perhaps a mile distant, silhouetted against the backdrop of the light. He saw squares, and rectangles, and half circles, and various other hazy outlines...
A city? Ruins? He couldn’t tell. He almost thought he also made out movement, but it was hard to tell: it could have just been his eyes straining against the overbearingly harsh Light.
Kasey’s heart beat faster. His palms were sweaty. He wanted to go back. This was bad. This wasn’t for him to see. He felt with every fiber of his being he shouldn’t be here. They stumbled upon something not meant for them.
The first mate turned to them. His face was white, but his jaw was set, and his hands steady.
”We’re advancing,” was all he said.
And with that, the men, a distraught Kasey included, stepped forward towards the Light.
