THE NOTHING MECHANISM: Penelope 1:4

Penelope pulled a few more volumes from the shelf and immediately got to work looking for anything having to do with The Hope. Doug continued unpacking and documenting the various items from the recent find.

Sometime, well past midnight, Penelope got up from her workspace to stretch her legs and check on Doug’s progress. He’d finished just moments earlier and was enjoying a small glass of whiskey.

“Care for a bit of this?”

“Sure. Why not. We should have called it a night hours ago.” Thirty seconds later, Penelope was sipping from her own glass of whiskey. Together the two of them reviewed Doug’s efforts.

Laid out across the tables of the research lab was the entire lot of impressively weathered items recovered from the recent expedition.



Two sets of fur-lined waxed leather boots, two sets of thick wool socks, two sets of regular cotton socks, two sets of thermal underwear (bottoms and tops), two pairs of flannel-lined waxed canvas pants, two double-notched thick leather belts, two long-sleeve button-up flannel shirts, two wool cable-knit shawl collar pull-over sweaters, two down-filled fur-lined hooded waxed canvas parkas, two pairs of fur-lined wool gloves, two wide wool scarves, and two flannel-lined wool caps.

The parkas had two embroidered patches, each. Both patches were simple, easy to read text; one read The Hope, the other presumably the men’s names: Henry and Miller.

“This stuff seems pretty standard issue for cold climate expeditions, even three hundred years ago. What else have we got,” Penelope said.

Doug walked her over to another table and pointed to two sets of items. “This stuff belonged to Henry. This to Miller.”



Henry’s lot contained: two heavy wool blankets, two fifty foot lengths of rope, one pair of snow shoes, one pocket watch, one compass, two metal water bottles, one empty matchbox, four knives in leather wrap, one mess kit, one hatchet, ten climbing anchors, one climbing harness, one wallet containing photographs and paper money, one journal, one waxed canvas shoulder slung bag, two engraved metal bracelets, one leather necklace with stone beads, and six rings carved from wood.

“That’s odd.”

“What is?” Doug asked.

“The jewelry. The necklace, the bracelets, the rings.” Penelope had picked up one of the wooden rings to examine it more closely. “My guess would be this guy acquired these during their expedition.”

“Oh, like natives. They probably visited with natives along their route.”

“Each piece of jewelry looks like it came from a different group. Where could they have been?”

“The logs?”

“There’s nothing in the record books mentioning any native groups. This must have happened after that last port stop.” She set the ring back down and turned back to the table. “What about Miller?”



Miller’s lot contained: one heavy wool blanket, one seventy-five foot length of rope, one compass, one pocket watch, two metal water bottles, one hatchet, two knives with leather sheaths, one mess kit, ten climbing anchors, one climbing harness, one pair of reading glasses with metal case, one journal, two pencils, one wallet containing photographs and identification card, and four folded very worn paper maps.

Penelope snatched the maps up, enthusiastically. “Could we be so lucky?”