Ch.99Ch.7 – Elegy to Reason (6)

# PM 12:00

## Innsmouth City Hall, Mayor’s Office

## Innsmouth

After hearing our story, Isaac Allen, the mayor of Innsmouth, let out a hollow laugh. Klein, the aide, didn’t blame him. Though they were adults physically, they were still just kids who had barely graduated high school, so it was natural for them to care about their appearance. But to undergo surgery just to look like ordinary people…

“Isn’t surgery something you do for patients? For sick people. But on a perfectly healthy body… Good heavens. What is this world coming to?”

While this might be commonplace in the 21st century, in the late 1920s setting, “surgery purely for cosmetic purposes” was a “concept far ahead of its time.” That must be why Mayor Allen was gradually sinking into shock.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with our appearance. It’s the face that distinguishes us from others, a gift from Dagon. So our children… perceive our appearance as some kind of disease?”

“You don’t have to look at it that way.”

Klein, the aide, tried to change the subject.

“Children’s thoughts change all the time, don’t they? When I first became an adult, I used to imagine being taller than I am now. But as time passed, such things became insignificant…”

“That’s easy for you to say because you’ve never experienced discomfort due to your appearance.”

Allen smiled bitterly. His mouth was too large to hide his expression. Klein cautiously asked:

“But Mayor, didn’t you call it a blessing? Yet you say it’s uncomfortable—could you elaborate on that?”

“Our ancestors lived great lives. The very fact that we Innsmouth people breathe and live here is proof of that greatness. I’m proud of our bloodline and I love the people of Innsmouth. Superior genes, a superior race—as the eugenicists would say. You’ve heard such talk, I presume?”

“Ah. Of course you would.”

“If you’re going to take my joke so seriously, I have nothing more to say, Mr. Aide.”

Klein seemed dumbfounded. Allen laughed, opening his mouth wide.

“Heh. I apologize. Not very amusing, was it? That’s what our elders used to say all the time. Back then, when I was young, we all looked similar enough that no one would question why you looked the way you did. Innsmouth was quiet then, as it is now.

So whenever we happened to see outsiders, we’d be shocked by each other. ‘Why do they look like that? Small mouths, small eyes, big noses.’ Each time, we’d ask the adults. The elders would answer, ‘We are a great lineage blessed by Dagon. When the promised day comes, we will return to Mother Ocean and live in comfort.’ My poor grandmother…”

Allen scratched his thick chin.

“Everything started to change because of the Great War. Some people from Innsmouth and America went to war to defend the banner of freedom. Those who returned told us, ‘I’ve been to many places. From Italy through Germany and France, and even London after the war ended. But nowhere did I find people who looked like us.’

Until we saw the faces of others, we didn’t know how ‘different’ we were. We believed what our elders told us, that ‘Dagon will protect us.’ But the outside perspective was completely different.

When we learned that Dagon was considered an utterly evil god, that our religion was viewed as heretical, and that the American government was trying to classify our bloodline as some kind of genetic disease—truly. Especially after passing through those cursed years of 1927 and 1928.”

The mayor’s tone seemed utterly desolate.

“The previous mayor committed suicide in the middle of last year. Threw himself into the sea. The government doesn’t tell us what went wrong. How can we fix something if we don’t know what the problem is?”

“The charges of kidnapping and detaining outsiders were clear,” Crayfield pointed out.

“And smuggling charges too. With so much unaccounted-for gold coming into Innsmouth, the government would naturally be suspicious. Anyone would find it strange.”

“Yes, Mr. Detective. Let’s say it’s strange, as you claim. But is that illegal?”

“If the source of the gold is unclear, then yes, it becomes illegal.”

Crayfield and the mayor glared at each other briefly. Klein the aide mediated between them.

“Now, now, everyone. Isn’t that why our congressional delegation is here? I completely understand your reluctance toward outside visitors. My grandfather has a large ranch, and occasionally impolite drifters come by. But isn’t it better to clear things up? We need to resolve misunderstandings and settle matters. That’s why Representative Annette Cole is interested in this area.”

“Ha. I wonder why that Pollard Island senator is so interested in this place?”

Everyone was surprised by the mayor’s barbed tone. But Klein paid no mind.

“By the way, I heard someone from MIT is coming today. They said the sample size was too small and they need to collect more.”

“As if I don’t have enough headaches with outsiders, and now more are coming?”

“Mayor, you should take this matter seriously. Progressive Party or Patriot Party aside, once Congress knows there’s toxic gas flooding beneath the city, they can’t just ignore it…”

“Damn it. Fine, fine. So what do you need? My gold teeth?”

“An entry permit.”

Mayor Allen shook his head.

“That’s not something I can issue. Logically, how could the city provide entry permits for the Dagon Temple when it doesn’t belong to the city?”

“But you could provide a certificate confirming the city’s acknowledgment. We need something to show the residents.”

“How far are you trying to drive down my approval ratings? I can forget about reelection.”

Despite his words, Mayor Allen was also someone who loved Innsmouth. He took out an official document form from his cabinet, wrote in quite a flowing hand, and signed it.

“Take it. Good grief. If the residents find out about this, they’ll want to bury me alive.”

“If you’re buried in the cemetery, we can always dig you up, Mayor.”

“Don’t joke. Do you know something? Innsmouth has no graves. We place our dead in coffins and commit them to the sea. That’s our traditional ceremony. Praying that Father Dagon will embrace us, and that someday we’ll all meet in the deep-sea city of Y’ha-nthlei.”

“Are you a Dagon worshipper too, Mayor?”

“We all were. Dagon was the thread that bound our town together. The religious leaders did great work. But when they disappeared, the town changed.”

“Was there conflict?”

“No. We fell into collective monologue. Everyone is struggling with how to deal with this terrible confusion. They all shut themselves away. This atmosphere has only intensified since the death of our town’s pride, the Miskatonic University professor.”

The mayor’s large hand pounded the desk.

“Yes. But now is not the time to discuss this. Anyway, I’ll entrust the matter of the toxic gas beneath the city to you congressional folks. My dear civil servants seem quite busy enough tracking down people like Penny. Right? Good heavens, even parents wouldn’t do this—having to say, ‘I think you might have a bomb implanted in your body, so please remove your upper clothing.'”

Klein explained in a calm tone:

“It’s for safety, Mayor. The wire killer is looking for such people.”

“I can’t do it. This seems beyond what the law should be able to do. Is this America? Forcing people to undress because there might be bombs implanted in their bodies? Is this rational?”

Crayfield whispered in an incredulous tone:

“I’m the one who’s shocked to hear the word ‘rational’ in Innsmouth.”

Then, after clearing his throat:

“Mayor, I’ve never raised children myself, but I know they come in various types. Some will spill everything while crying and sniveling if you put a little pressure on them. Grab one such kid, and then call them in one by one. Adults patrolling the streets would obviously backfire, but if you call them in individually, they’ll line up in the corridor wondering when their turn will come. Isn’t that how schools do it?”

The mayor glared at Crayfield.

“What are you? I thought you were a detective, but are you some kind of child specialist?”

“No. I’m just a private detective.”

“And my employee,” Klein nodded.

“I think so too, Mayor. Don’t push with your mayoral title; approach them just as a community elder. There aren’t many places with bonds as tight as those in Innsmouth.”

“Ugh.”

For Mayor Allen, it was a no-win situation. After all, a person wearing the title of mayor couldn’t say, “We Innsmouth people are indifferent to each other.” In the end, the mayor accepted our advice.

* * * * *

# PM 1:20

## City Hall Lobby

## Innsmouth

Crayfield, Klein the aide, and I ate lunch together in the city hall cafeteria. The sandwich with fried fish patty blended well with its mild sauce.

We briefly spoke with others from Congress, but it seemed today was a day for everyone to attend to their own business according to their election strategies, rather than gathering for conversation.

“By the way, you were quite skillful in your conversation with the mayor earlier, Mr. Crayfield.”

Crayfield lacked the virtue of modesty, so he wore an exaggeratedly pleased expression.

“Not at all. How’s the tracking of the wire killer going?”

“I’ll need to check in, but he’s so methodical that he hasn’t been caught. However, by tracking the children with bombs implanted in their bodies, we might learn the wire killer’s objective. By the way, Mr. Crayfield and assistant, do either of you have claustrophobia?”

“No.”

“Ah, good. Actually, there’s a place in Innsmouth we haven’t finished investigating—the underground cavern beneath the Dagon Temple, where toxic gas is leaking.”

Crayfield smiled meaningfully.

“Yes, I saw it in the newspaper.”

“MIT has sent people to collect more complete samples. But they’re a bit short-handed, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow your help. I’ll be participating too. The equipment is already prepared.”

“Will we need to carry heavy things?”

“That’s possible, which is why I’m asking. We don’t know exactly what’s inside.”

Crayfield pretended to consider it, but the answer was already clear. He knew that Annette Cole and Aide Klein’s purpose was to find and retrieve something from the underground cavern. So Crayfield seemed to decide to be a bit mischievous.

“Alright. But I notice the other congressional investigators aren’t coming?”

“They’re all a bit older. This kind of work is for young people.”

Aide Klein laughed good-naturedly. Crayfield nodded deeply, as if he’d expected this.

In the city hall lobby, people from MIT were waiting. One chemical engineer and two graduate students. They were quite cheerful people, so getting along with them wasn’t burdensome. Dr. Annie Hartwell, in her early forties, was a woman with a notably strong square jaw.

“First, we need to collect the gas. We also need to know where it’s coming from, and it would be better if we could go deep enough to find the source. I’ve brought small shovels and test tubes to scrape samples.”

As if to prove the professor’s words, one graduate student lifted a wooden box containing instruments. Crayfield raised his hand toward the professor.

“How dangerous is it? I’d like an expert opinion.”

“Hmm… more dangerous than a child’s sandbox play, but safer than jungle gym exploration. Step only where there’s solid ground, don’t touch anything carelessly, and don’t use fire. Those three rules are sufficient.”

“That seems too difficult. How do we see ahead without fire? It must be very dark.”

The professor covered her mouth and smiled broadly. Somehow, it felt like I heard her mutter, “This is why country folk…”

“Ah. I’ve brought the latest electric flashlights. We have plenty of spares, so illuminating the darkness won’t be a problem at all. As you know, that place is filled with gas. If you bring anything resembling a flame, Innsmouth will have a new volcano. We’ll wear full protective suits with oxygen tanks and use flashlights. Nothing difficult. It’s actually better than deep-sea exploration since we don’t have to withstand water pressure.”

“Do we really need to wear protective suits?”

“Hydrogen sulfide is dangerous, especially lethal to the eyes. Oh, did I say too much? Actually, just near the entrance, the ammonia concentration is so high you’ll want to cut off your nose. With protective suits and oxygen tanks, at least that won’t happen. To think such things fill the underground of a city where people live… if I were mayor, I’d evacuate everyone immediately.”

Dr. Hartwell was resolute. Klein smoothly took over:

“Well then, let’s go in. We’re all prepared.”