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Image of the Beast and Blown

Page 41

by Philip José Farmer


  and that thing was too active. But he could drive it out,

  and he did.

  Its wet, black-haired and black-bearded head shot out

  past the pliers handles. Its tiny mouth was open, exposing

  the sharp teeth. Its forked tongue flickered at him.

  With his left hand, he caught it behind the head. He

  pulled it out slowly as it writhed and then placed

  the head and a part of the body on the stool.

  Pao sucked in his breath. Apparently, up to that mo-

  ment, he had expected Childe to yank the thing out by

  its uterine roots and so disconnect the parts of Vivienne

  again.

  Childe said, "Hand me that cleaver."

  Vivienne watched him take the chopper. She did not

  blink.

  "Inject the proper amount of morphine in her," Childe

  said to O'Brien. "You do know how to do it, don't you?"

  "I do," O'Brien said. "So, you've recognized me. Did

  I ever treat you? No. Anyway, morphine will do no good.

  She is resistant to it."

  "I don't want to inflict physical pain on her," Childe

  said. "As little as possible, anyway. What kind of anes-

  thetic do you have? I do want her to see this. She is not

  to be unconscious."

  "Never mind that!" Vivienne said. "Get it over with!

  I want to feel the parting in its fullest!"

  He did not ask her what she meant by that. He

  looked down at the snake-thing, which twisted and hissed.

  Then he raised the cleaver and brought it down hard

  across the flexible spine.

  Blood spurted out across the room. The head rolled

  off the stool and fell on the floor. Pao picked it up and put

  it beside the still bleeding trunk. The head moved its

  mouth several times, and its eyes glared up at Childe as if

  wishing him evil even after its death. Then the eyes

  glazed, and the lips ceased to work.

  Vivienne had turned gray. Her eyelids were open,

  but her eyes had rolled up to expose only the whites.

  O'Brien smeared an ointment over the amputation.

  The blood quit flowing entirely. Probably, that ointment

  was not known to Earth doctors nor used by O'Brien

  in his Beverly Hills practice.

  O'Brien bandaged up the body, and Vivienne was

  carried out on the chair. The snake body dangled down

  and scraped against the floor until one of the men coiled

  it up in her lap.

  Two women came in and began to clean up the mess.

  Pao said, "What shall we do with the head?"

  "Put it down the garbage disposal."

  Pao said, "Very well. Will you be ready for the

  ceremony tonight?"

  "I'll try," Childe said. "Of course, Breughel emptied

  me.

  "Breughel maintains that you asked him to go to bed

  with you," Pao said.

  "I would think that his duty would have been to find

  some excuse for putting me off. He knew that I should

  be full again for tonight."

  "That is true, but the temptation is very great. And

  you did ask for what you got. However, if you require it,

  Breughel will be killed."

  "Let him live," Childe said. "Now, if you don't mind,

  I would like privacy. Complete privacy. Turn off every-

  thing, except the intercom, of course. Don't bring me

  anything to eat until I ask for it. I want to meditate and

  possibly to sleep later on."

  "As you wish," Pao said.

  Childe sat on a chair for a while. He had considered

  doing what the Ogs wished, up to a point. He had in-

  tended to land them on some other planet. Maroon them.

  They would find themselves on a world which could sup-

  port life but would offer them little except hardship. And

  he would go on.

  Pao had explained some of the results of the Grailing,

  and he knew that during the voyaging ceremony he

  would be able to scan through a part of the cosmos.

  He did not know how he could do this, but he had been

  assured by Pao that it was open to him. The implication

  was that he could go on to any world he was able to see

  during the ceremony. The idea scared him now, and he

  had been frank enough to tell Pao that. Pao had replied

  that he would not be scared during the ceremony be-

  cause the power would make him courageous.

  But now, he had changed his mind. He wanted to

  escape. The chopping off of the snake-thing's head had

  sickened him. He was becoming an Og by association

  with them. If he continued with them, he might end up as

  cold and cruel as they.

  An hour passed. Then, knowing that he did not have

  too much time to carry out the plan he had conceived,

  he arose. He went into the bathroom and turned on all

  the faucets. He used a nailfile to unscrew the grate over

  the shower drain, and he stuffed the drain with sheets.

  He put the plugs in the bathtub and washbasin drains.

  Then he looked around for weapons and tools. The Ogs

  had taken the pliers and the cleaver.

  The nearest thing to a weapon was the jade statuette,

  which he could use for a club. He could also use it to

  listen in on anything on the intercommunication system,

  since it operated without wires.

  He prowled around, looking for other useful items and

  could find none. He sat down on the bed and waited.

  It would take a long time for the water to fill the room

  as high as the canopy on top of the bed. He would be on

  top of it when that occurred, since he had determined

  that the canopy would support him.

  The hours passed. The water flowed out of the bath-

  room and spread over the bedroom floor. It rose agoniz-

  ingly slowly. But the time came when he had to climb

  up on the canopy and wait there.

  The statuette in his hand spoke. "Captain, it is dinner

  time. Do you wish anything to eat?"

  "Not now!" he said. He gauged when the water would

  rise to the level of the canopy. "In about an hour. I'll

  take the same food as last night! Oh, by the way, when

  does the ceremony start?"

  There was a pause and then the voice said, "About

  nine, Captain. Or later if you prefer."

  "I think I'll sleep a little now," he said. "Be sure to

  wake me about ten minutes before you bring dinner in."

  When the waters lapped at the canopy, and wet his rear

  through the cloth, he swam out into the room. The door

  to the bathroom was almost under by then. He dived

  through the door and came up to the airpocket between

  the bathroom ceiling and the surface. Then he dived

  down again. The ceiling light was still on, so he could

  see somewhat in the clear water. He turned off all the

  faucets in one dive and then returned to the top. Another

  dive through the door, and he swam back to the canopy.

  As he pulled himself onto it, he felt a shock. The

  water slipped to one side of the room, as if the house

  had been tilted, and then it rushed back.

  For a moment the motion confused him. He was

  panicked. What the hell had happened?

  The voice said, "Captain! If yo
u felt that lurch, do not

  be alarmed! It's not an earthquake! We think that the

  front of the hill gave way! We're inspecting the damage

  now! But do not be alarmed! The house is at least forty

  feet from the edge of the hill!"

  Everybody in this house was so engrossed in the Grail-

  ing that they had forgotten about the deluge and its pos-

  sible effects. Other houses were slipping and sliding,

  tumbling down hills which caved out from under them.

  But these people had felt themselves insulated from the

  disaster. They had far more important matters to attend

  to.

  Now was his best chance. If a large number of them

  were out of the house, looking at the slide, he had a

  clearer road out than he had hoped for.

  He spoke into the statuette: "I'll take my dinner right

  now."

  "Sir," said the voice. "It isn't ready yet."

  "Well, send a man in. The slide broke a waterpipe

  in here. It's flooding my room."

  "Yes, sir."

  He waited. He had slipped the statuette between his

  belt and his stomach. He poised now, hoping that the

  pressure of the water would spring the door outwards

  even more swiftly than it normally traveled.

  The caving in of the hill front had undoubtedly been

  the main factor in making the house lurch. But the enor-

  mous weight of all the water in this room had helped.

  Now, if only things worked right.

  Suddenly, the door swung out. The water churned and

  frothed as it plunged through the narrow exit.

  Childe hesitated several seconds and then he dived. He

  was caught by the current and hurled through the door-

  way, brushing it as he went by and hurting his ribs and

  hips. He struck into the wall on the side of the corridor

  opposite the door and then was shot, turning over and

  over, helplessly down the hall. The house must have been

  tilted slightly forward, towards the road, when it had

  shifted in response to the cave-in. Most of the flood

  seemed to be charging in that direction.

  42

  The water fell through the hole in the floor as if it were a

  waterspout. It pounded the narrow platform, making it

  shudder and threaten to break up. It swirled the raft

  around so that several men, clinging to the side of the

  raft, were crushed between raft and wall.

  Forry, hanging on to another man on the raft, thought

  that this time the house had slipped forward after another

  cave-in. This time, it was not going to stop. It would go

  down the hill, and everybody in it would be buried under

  tons of mud. Especially those in this underground hole!

  The worst part of it was that they had removed their air

  tanks and so could not swim back through the tunnel.

  Or could they? It was difficult to think coherently while

  the water was roaring through that hole and the raft was

  spinning and he could not see much because of the splash-

  ing and spraying around him. But it had seemed to him

  that the swim through the tunnel was a very short one and

  that he would not have to swim under the surface of the

  swimming pool to its end. He could emerge at once.

  But the thought of going through the curving tube when

  its side might collapse at any second unnerved him. Bad as

  it was being shut in this hole here, he would stay.

  By then all the lights had been extinguished, and he

  was in total darkness.

  Suddenly, though the raft was still turning, the turbu-

  lence was much reduced. A light came on, and he could

  see another light. This was shining down through the hole

  in the floor. Water was still coming through but it was a

  trickle compared to the first discharge.

  Hindarf was shouting at them to be quiet. Miraculously,

  he was unhurt.

  Under his directions they erected the ladder again, and

  he climbed on up through it. His men followed him. Pres-

  ently, a man pushed Forry and urged him to get going.

  Forry scrambled up the ladder swiftly but reluctantly. He

  poked his head through the floor and saw a bedroom that

  had been submerged only a few minutes before. The only

  exit was blocked with chairs, tables, and the bed, which

  had been swept against the doorway by the current.

  The Tocs worked furiously to clear the furniture away.

  Hindarf and another looked for Childe, but he was not in

  the room.

  "What happened?" Forry said to Hindarf.

  "I don't know. But I would guess that Childe or whoever

  was a prisoner in here flooded this place. When the door

  was opened, he went on out, riding the waters. He may

  have escaped."

  "Good!" said Forry. "Maybe we can leave then?"

  Hindarf looked down the hall at the wreckage. Several

  tables and vases and a crumpled carpet were piled at the

  corner where the hall turned. Part of the wall, where the

  water had first struck, was broken in. A man with a

  broken neck lay against the wall. He was identified as

  Glinch, an Og who had once terrorized medieval Germany

  as a werewolf. For the past twenty years, he had been

  working in the Internal Revenue Service, Los Angeles.

  Hindarf gave direct orders. Part of the Tocs were to go

  down that hall, looking for whatever they could find in

  the way of Childe, the Toc prisoners, and the Grail. He,

  Ackerman, and the rest of the party would go the other

  direction.

  As they split up, they were hurled off their feet by an-

  other shock. Somewhere in the house, a great splintering

  and crashing sounded.

  "We may not have much time left!" Hindarf said.

  "Quickly!"

  They broke in a door which was jammed because of the

  twisted walls. They found the three Tocs, naked, hungry,

  and scared, in that room. The next room contained Vivi-

  enne, whom everybody except Forry recognized. She was

  lying in bed, moaning with pain, a sheet over her. Hindarf

  pulled off the sheet, and Forry's eyes bulged. A three and

  a half foot long penis with an amputated head was lying

  between her legs, its other end stuck into her cunt.

  "So somebody killed Gilles de Rais at last?" Hindarf

  said.

  "Childe did it," Vivienne moaned.

  "Where is he?"

  She groaned and shook her head. Hindarf reached out

  and gave a savage yank on the thing between her legs.

  What happened next was something that Forry would

  never be able to forget.

  Hindarf picked up the many-legged cunt and smashed it

  against the wall. "Here's something for your collection,"

  he said, handing the head with its kicking legs to Forry

  by the hair. Forry backed away and then ran out of the

  room.

  There were shouts and then shots and screams some-

  where in the house. Hindarf pushed past him and ran

  down the hall. Forry followed the others and eventually

  entered an enormous room where about twelve Tocs were

  struggling with ten Ogs. In the middle of the battle was a

  g
lass cube with a dully glowing gray goblet on a pedestal.

  A Toc shoved the cube over with his foot, and the en-

  closure fell with a crash, taking the pedestal and the gob-

  let with it. There was a desperate scramble, during which

  the floor suddenly tilted with a deafening crash and rend-

  ing of timbers from nearby. The cube slid down to one

  end of the room while the combatants, knocked off their

  feet, chuted after it.

  Forry was knocked down and sent sliding on his face

  for perhaps ten feet. He suffered friction burns on his

  hands and knees, but he did not notice them at that mo-

  ment. The goblet had tumbled out of the cube and come

  to rest a foot before his face.

  "Get it and run!" Hindarf yelled, and then an Og

  woman, whom he recognized as Panchita Pocyotl, leaped

  upon Hindarf from behind and bore him to the floor.

  Forry would not have touched the goblet if he had

  thought about the effects of his act. But, excited and im-

  pelled by the Toc's order, he scrambled to his feet, scoop-

  ing the goblet up. Even in his frenzied state, he noticed

  that it felt extraordinarily warm and that it seemed to pulse

  faintly. He also felt a resurgence of energy and an on-

  slaught of courage.

  He ran, even though he was not supposed to run. He

  went out of the room and down the hall and then there

  was a terrible grinding noise, a groaning, a shrieking, and

  a rumble as of thunder. The floor dropped; he fell, though

  still holding the goblet.

  The room seemed to turn upside down. He struck the

  ceiling, which cracked open before he hit it. The lights had

  gone out then, but a flashlight from somewhere, maybe

  held by an Og who had just entered the house, threw a

  beam on the goblet and the surrounding area.

  Half-stunned, Forry saw the goblet slide away from him.

  A dark figure hurtled into the area of the light and

  sprawled after the goblet. It was not clad in a diving suit

  and it was not Childe, so he presumed it was an Og.

  He kicked the Og as he rose with a triumphant cry,

  holding the goblet to his chest. The bare foot—he had long

  since shed his flippers—caught the Og under the cheek of

  his right buttock. At the same time, the house lurched

 

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