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[Laraqua]

[Laraqua]

Expedition Diary

Copywrite information

This edition published 2007 by
Ophidian Press
By arrangement with Moscow University
Translated by Oleg Slazko

Copyright © 2007 by Ophidian Press.

[Laraqua]

Blurb

Yuri Yasakev was a desperate man. Desperate to prove himself to a world that loved his brother. Desperate to prove himself to a lover who pretended he didn't exist. And desperate to prove his own value to himself.

That desperation led him on an ill-fated journey to reach the caldera on the top of an extinct volcano, in the Kamchatka Peninsula, and to explore the mountain that had never been explored. Along the way, he and his three fellow explorers meet with parasites, starvation, cabin fever, bizarre flora and fauna. Yet what destroys them, their most dire threat, is themselves.

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Synopsis

Chapter 1

In the winter of 1765, a series of set-backs led Yuri Yasakev to desire change and purpose in his life. He was ex-military and filled with wanderlust, a fact that permeates everything, including his ill-fated trist with a woman, Irina Chaikovskaya, who was to be married to his younger brother. Rather than risk ruining his younger brother's wedding, he began to dream of freedom and escape, of a place that called to him, of the fair city (his dreams of which are only ever described once). With the advice of his older brother, Father Anatoli Yasakev of the Russian Orthodox church, he organized with three men to visit the Kamchatka Peninsula and, after gathering more rumors of the wondrous things there, set off in its direction with his three fellow ex-soldiers: Belov, Golitsin and Galushkin. They are never mentioned by their first names. There is a touching scene between Irina and Yuri, at the very end, before he leaves her in peace.

Chapter 2

The journey is a fairly eventful one with a number of interesting and colorful types met on the road to Kamchatskiy. It is completed just before 1786. A number of sites are visited, including the Valley of Geysers, but the descriptions given are crisp and fairly military, when descriptions are ever given. The four seem like old friends and Yuri is very pleased with the way this adventure is progressing, though his mind drifts regularly back to his beloved and his brother's wedding, which was due to occur halfway through this chapter. He even writes an entry describing the wedding in great detail – whether it was due to a dream or idle thought, is unknown, though it's obvious he couldn't have made it back in time.

Some of the difficulties of hiking around are also mentioned – blistered feet, aching calf muscles, the difficulty of carrying the heavy weight of important materials around and the bland flavor of packed meals over time. Due to their army history, despite being officers, they have all dealt with such issues before – though likely not as often as the troops.

Yuri also learns of a mountain that no one has reached the summit of. An angry mountain, always clouded, that seems to either kill explorers or send them off the track so that they are, unbeknownst to them, actually exploring a different mountain. Allegedly, this mountain has a crater lake that the natives babble about as the Cauldron of Suffering Stillness.

Chapter 3

This chapter is concerned with the journey itself. The exploration starts off jolly enough with the poor poetry of Yuri and some insightful comments on his friends. As early as day three, however, issues arise. Signs of mould are found on their bread and soon after, his writings collapse into mad ravings of altered star patterns, a mountain becoming a mountain range and a strange creature on two or more legs that darts just out of range of seeing. The feverish writings describe a valley where each step feels like it's in a quagmire of despair.

However, Yuri does better than his friends. Yuri ...

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Extracts Near The End Of the Diary

22nd February, 1785.
Oh Diary,

It appears that something grevious has occurred, both within and without my dream. How else might I explain the spill over of nightmare into joyous stroll? Or desperate and discarded faces that flitted between the walls of the fair city? Laraquan nights are chillier now. The blue stone walls have gold veins that never lay still, seeming to pulse. The sounds of children's voices and fair ladies' beckoning faces that I had liked to imagine within the foreign cities of my imagination were drowned out by screams and ruination. My thoughts are immediately drawn toward the oncoming crush of my brother's wedding to my dear beloved and this, I fear, is what is poisoning even my dreams.

Oh mother, who are in heaven, content beside the heavenly host, do send me your love. I feel I shall need it for what I am prepared to embark on. I am far too tired to do anything without your loving strength to guide me.

In the meantime, I shall speak more to my friends of my desire for exploration. There is much within Kamchatka that is beautiful and much that is rare. Perhaps if we stopped by that place, with the Valley of Geysers and other such things that I dreamed about. Perhaps, then, we would find the purpose and meaning in life to carry on.

5th December, 1786
My Diary,

It does seem that there is something mysterious about that unexplored mountain, or at least, that the world around is has built something of a mystery upon its firm, stone flanks. An unexplored volcano, whose smoke may well be sourcing the angry clouds overhead, despite the claims that it is a purely perpetual storm floating about on top, is an exciting possibility.

We began asking around for the best manner in which to start the climb, to see how steep and high it is, and we were eventually directed to some natives lurking about the area. The natives, seemingly cunning yet primitive organisms, laughed outright at us and claimed that upon the very highest reaches was a crater lake they called the Cauldron of Suffering Stillness where an entire people were frozen in a raw moment of agony. They continued on about tales of flitting entities from that place, flowing down the mountainsides, perverting all it touched so that insect were no longer insect, and mammals were touched with insanity. Of valleys of anger and despair. Of all kinds of bizarre phenomena, yet the whole while, they were chuckling to themselves. I do believe these particular natives, who had largely joined the town they were working in, felt such tales were simple stories to tell the children. Yet when I offered a generous sum for one to become our guide, they made their excuses and left. How utterly bizarre.

15th January, 1787
Its skittering through the gravel. Rock spray. Keeps coming. Around and around. Encircling us while we sleep. Moving onward. The rocks up ahead looming. I think they're here now.

It was Golitsin.

Funny that. It's so much colder now. Why does Galushkin keep removing his clothes? We put them on him time and again. Golitsin is singing funny songs.

We saw those rocks again. The same ones with the same carvings. How is it so?

I'm a little scared. Those noises. They're back. I think it's Golitsin. We've got to stop him.

16th Naura 178732
Golitsin stopped.

We're still moving. Back now. Back down the mountain so the mountains became a mountain and the stars become clouds. All it says now is that we're going to make it. Galushkin taking Golitsin. The two are like brothers, fused in their clothing, moving down with me. Hard to write while walking. Hard to sit and write while walking.

Golitsin's singing again. Strange noises. Please make him stop.

He's calling them.

Stop the rock that stopped it. No one stopped the rock. Why didn't I?

Galushkin, too, time to sit. Must remember to write a letter to my mother.

Its chanting their names. Names to their souls. I keep seeing their faces. I don't think it will let us go. I don't think there is a down. Not moving quickly enough. There is a cliff, though. We can get to the bottom quick fast. Wouldn't you say?

Brother, pray for me.

Landed. Good. Sky back. Legs not working anymore. We're Golitsin? Didn't Galushkin bring him? The rocks are spraying. I hear them speaking, friends, but can't reach them. My bones. My poor bones. Why don't I die?

17th January
I'm hungry.