Doctor Orient

by Frank Lauria

  A short, powerful-looking man walked leisurely through the crowd toward the altar. He was followed by a hawk-faced woman carrying a golden goblet with both hands. The man wore a close-fitting black leather cowl upon which were two gilded horns. In his left hand he held a studded gourd by its long handle.

  Seth opened the glass door slightly so that they could hear what was being said below.

  The man and his female consort stopped in front of the altar. With his back to the kneeling worshippers, he raised his left hand and shook the gourd. A crisp rattling sound shivered through the silence.

  “Susej,” Seth whispered in Addison’s ear, “the high priest.”

  Susej began to speak in a high sing-song voice. “Dominum non est dignus. Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law. I proclaim the law of the left hand, the law of the Chaos, sole regent of the Sun upon Earth and the law of Babylon, the Earth and mother of all.”

  The woman placed the goblet on the altar.

  “We are ready, Clear One,” the priest went on, “ready to receive the bounty of your limitless power.”

  Susej turned to the crowd still kneeling before him. “You will make your desires known to the Clear One,” he rasped.

  The lean Negro stood up and spoke. “Grant me the power to sway men to my thinking, to convince them that my ways are best.”

  Susej lifted the gourd. “Your wish is granted. You will have the gift of tongues. You will use these gifts to further yourself and the cause of the Clear One.”

  “Thank you, master,” the Negro whispered, bowing his head.

  A plump woman stood up. “Clear One, make me famed as a beauty.”

  “Come here, woman,” Susej commanded.

  The woman approached the altar hesitantly. Susej grasped the woman by the shoulders. He ran his hands over her body, then over her face. As he did this Addison was astonished to see a change take place in the female’s dowdy appearance; her body became firmer, the flesh on her arms tightened, her nose straightened, her eyes became larger, her coarse skin became smoother, her hair shone with luster. In the space of a few moments the woman became lovely.

  “You will use your beauty to tempt men into the service of the Clear One,” Susej said, pushing the woman back to her place. “Should you become unfaithful to his glorious work you will become hideous and die of the disease that rots the flesh.”

  Addison’s mother stood up. “My husband must have money,” she said, her head lowered.

  Susej pointed his staff at her. “Where is your husband?” he called out.

  “He is away. He doesn’t know I worship the Clear One.”

  Susej pointed his staff at her. “Your husband will conclude certain transactions which will bring him wealth. You will see to it that he’s introduced into the service of the Clear One. Should you fail, you will fall from rank and never again know riches. You will live long and live in poverty.”

  Mona bowed her head. “Yes, master,” she said, Addison caught a tremble in her mother’s voice.

  One after another the members of the cult called up their desires to Susej. Their requests had a sameness: beauty, station, wealth, fame.

  Addison saw the physical appearance of two others changed by the hands of Susej. A woman was cured of a spotted skin and an elderly, unhealthy-looking man was transformed into a lean, vigorous specimen.

  She felt a rush of exhilaration. She wasn’t skeptical any longer. Her mind raced to count the advantages such power would afford her.

  When he had finished reviewing the wishes of his supplicants, Susej turned his back on the gathering and began to intone in an intense voice: “By Baralamensis, by the most powerful princes, Genio, LiancMde… ” He paused to draw a triangle on the altar with white chalk. “Aglon,” he went on, “Tetragram, Vaycheon, Stimilamaton, Exphares Retragram- maton Olyaram Irion Estyion Existion Eryona Onera Orasym Mozm Messias Soter Emanuel Saboth Adonay, Te Adora—Et Te Invoco!” He passed his staff over the goblet on the shrine.

  As she heard the jumble of words, Addison felt, rather than understood, the strength of the priest who stood before the black altar. The meaningless words seemed to penetrate her mind and she found herself moving her lips in unison with the chant. She glanced at Seth and saw that he too was moving his lips, his eyes intent on the squat figure of Susej.

  Smoke began to rise from the center of the triangle, a yellow cloud rushing straight up to a height of eight feet or more over the altar.

  A woman sobbed.

  “… Adonay, Te Adora—Et Te Invoco!” Susej moaned louder.

  A sharp clap of metallic sound shattered through his voice. A man stood on the altar, naked and gleaming, his yellow skin glistening in the candlelight. A tangled mane of matted black hair hung to his wide shoulders, making his huge head seem even larger. His muscular torso tapered sharply to unaturally narrow hips and thin, hairy legs. The creature’s face was twisted into a permanent, mirthless grin, revealing broken, jagged teeth. He was fully seven feet tall.

  Everyone in the room, with the exception of Susej and his female assistant, lay prostrate on the floor. For a moment there was no sound. In the tiny glass room Addison’s heartbeat was clearly audible.

  Susej whirled and lifted his staff, pointing it toward the balcony.

  “Bring the candidate before the Clear One,” he called out.

  Seth opened the glass door.

  Addison was calm as she descended the stairs. The pounding excitement she had felt earlier was in complete control. She heard murmurs of surprise from the assemblage as she came forward, but she kept her eyes fixed on Susej as she walked toward the altar. She stopped in front of him and held out her hands, palms downward.

  “What is your desire?” Susej asked harshly.

  “Supreme knowledge,” she answered.

  “Does the Clear One find the candidate acceptable?” Susej asked, his eyes fixed on Addison.

  Addison looked up at the figure looming above her. The eyes of the creature were slitted, almost completely closed. His sharp teeth were stained brown. She thought she saw a red tongue move inside the distorted mouth.

  The immense head bent forward.

  “So be it,” Susej snapped. He reached forward and roughly removed the robe from her body. She let it fall to her ankles, then stepped clear, standing naked in front of the altar. Behind her the congregation rose to its feet.

  A discordant, grating music began to play.

  Silently the robed members of the cult formed a great circle, with Addison and the altar as its center, and started to move counterclockwise around the room. The music screeched louder.

  “The cup,” Susej said, his gaze still on Addison.

  The human circle moved faster.

  The hawk-faced priestess took the chalice from the altar and held it out to Addison, who grasped it at the stem with both hands.

  “Let it begin,” Susej cried, and struck the cup from Addison’s outstretched hands with a sudden downward blow of his staff.

  The chalice hit the rug with a dull sound, rolling and scattering its contents. A number of thin white wafers stood out clearly against the black carpeting.

  A woman broke from the circle, screaming. She rushed past Addison and wildly began to grind the wafers under her heels. Addison was suddenly in the midst of a yelling mob, all fighting and shoving for a chance to step on the wafers. She glimpsed a crescent of white on the floor. Remembering Seth’s instructions to participate completely, she pushed someone aside and brought her foot down hard, crumbling her tiny crescent to pieces. A surge of triumph welled up inside her and she uttered a savage cry of victory.

  Everyone was in a frenzy now, leaping wildly as they danced around her. She saw her mother clawing at her robe. A man reached out and ripped it from her back. The whole congregation was tearing off clothing and falling to the floor. Mona was rolling in a thrashing embrace with another woman.

  Rough hands brought Addison to the ground. She felt her thighs being forced apart. Everyt
hing was a roar of sound and flesh. She saw the creature over her, his twisted, grinning face coming closer. She closed her eyes.

  A convulsive shock slammed through her body as he entered her. She writhed uncontrollably, seared by an ice-hot spasm of ecstatic pain. Her nose was filled with a pungent animal odor and she opened her eyes for an instant.

  The creature’s leering face was above her, and she suddenly saw that he was eyeless. The slits in his head were hollow. She bit her lip to keep from fainting.

  The noise diminished, then stopped.

  The weight on her body left her. There was a deep, expectant pause.

  Someone pulled her to her feet. It was Seth. He led her to the altar.

  The creature was gone. Susej was standing behind the table. “Obizuth,” he said, bowing his head.

  A girl was lying on the altar, her black hair tumbling almost to the floor. She was asleep.

  Seth placed something hard and cold in her hand. It was a long silver knife.

  Addison looked at Seth, then at Susej, then at the knife in her hand. She knew what she was to do.

  Taking the hilt in both hands, she lifted the knife high above the sleeping girl and with all of her remaining strength, brought it straight down.

  There was an odd, crunching sound as the blade sliced into the girl’s chest.

  Addison felt a spray of hot liquid spatter her belly.

  It was blood.

  V

  For more than an hour Orient and Redson worked intently over Sordi’s inert body, applying artificial respiration and trying to stimulate circulation.

  Sordi’s eyelids fluttered.

  Doctor Orient took a deep breath of relief. With Redson’s help he transferred Sordi to the bed.

  Orient took a hand-wrapped cigarette from his case and looked at Redson. “Now I understand why my mind kept wandering to Hap during our conversation. He was trying to contact me.”

  Sordi emitted a hoarse groan.

  Orient left the room briefly. He returned with a portable container of oxygen. He placed the facepiece over Sordi’s nose and mouth. In a few minutes he was able to sit up and tell them what had happened.

  “Doctor Levi and Mr. Simpson were out. I was in the kitchen with Hap. I was showing him how to make riso al Ischia. That’s wild rice with tomatoes and mussels.” Sordi waved a finger from side to side. “But you can’t get good mussels in this country.”

  Orient sat down and folded his arms. He was used to Sordi’s milk-train of thought.

  “So just when I’m taking the mussels out of the pot I hear the girl yelling upstairs. Hap jumped up and ran ahead to the elevator. I had to take the stairs. When I got here the girl was standing in the middle of the room like a crazy woman. Waving her arms around and walking funny. I looked at Hap and he was just standing there watching her. I said, ‘Hey, what are you doing, miss?’ and she started making noises like an animal.” He shivered. “Well, I didn’t know what to do.” Gingerly, he touched his neck.

  Orient glanced over at Redson. The bishop was shaking his head and frowning.

  “Then she came for me.” Sordi seemed puzzled. “She was strong, though. Stronger than me, and I’m in the pink. Then I got scared. I yelled at Hap to help me. And while I’m already half dead he pretends not to hear me.” Sordi was waving both his hands now. “But isn’t that fantastic? If I ever see that man again, Doctor, I will tell him. I know he’s your guest and I respect that, but this man is fantastic.” He shrugged eloquently as if deigning to dismiss the whole matter. “I don’t understand people in this country,” he said.

  “I can understand it,” Redson said.

  “Can you remember anything else that could help us find the girl?” Orient said. A music box in his mind began its spindly tinkle.

  A voice behind him shattered the sound.

  “Doc, Where’s Malta?”

  Hap Prentice was standing in the doorway.

  Orient walked toward him. “Malta’s gone. Sordi’s been hurt. He says that you were with Malta.”

  Hap smiled. “I was with Sordi. We heard a scream and I made for the elevator. I must have pushed the wrong button because I ended up in the meditation room. When I got here I saw Sordi shaking Malta. The next thing I remember is waking up just now in my room.”

  “But, Doctor, this man is fantastic.” Sordi looked from Orient to Redson. “You know what I told you is the complete truth.” He squinted darkly at Hap. “You won’t tell the truth for some reason, but if you wish to settle this honorably I am at your disposal.”

  Hap scratched his head. “What kind of game is this?” he said suspiciously.

  “Sordi was attacked and almost strangled by Malta. The marks are there. He says you saw the whole thing.”

  “I remember seeing some of it, but Malta couldn’t hurt anyone… she wouldn’t… ” His voice trailed off in confusion.

  Orient turned to Sordi. “Let me settle this, you rest now. I want to talk to Hap some more about this…confusion.”

  Sordi glared at Hap, and nodded.

  Orient and Redson followed Hap out of the room and down the stairs to the study.

  Hap sat down heavily. He was shaking his head in wonder as Orient closed the door behind them.

  “Malta… ” Hap murmured. “She wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “Hap,” Orient kept his voice even, “do you know where Malta is now?”

  Hap didn’t answer.

  Orient decided to curtail his questioning for a moment. “I don’t think you’ve ever met Bishop Redson, Hap. The bishop is an old friend and he came along to try to help Malta.”

  Redson extended a hand and moved toward Hap.

  Hap leaped to his feet. He backed away from the approaching bishop.

  “Hello… hello,” he stammered. He positioned himself so that the chair he had been sitting on was between them. He was trembling.

  Bishop Redson stopped and turned his back to Hap.

  “Perhaps I’d better go, Doctor,” he said genially. Suddenly he wheeled, and with blurring speed, threw a twisting overhand right that started from his hip, and ended with a flat, meaty crack on the point of Hap’s chin. He crumbled to the floor, unconscious.

  “I had to do that, son,” Redson said regretfully to the inert figure at his feet. Orient went to his desk. He found a piece of charcoal and a measuring tape, which he took to the bishop. “You’d better bless these before we use them,” he said.

  “Then you know what’s wrong with the boy?” Redson was mildly surprised.

  “I had a hunch when Sordi told us that Hap just stood by and watched while he was being strangled, but when he started backing off from that cross around your neck, I was sure,”

  Redson blessed the ruler and charcoal with Holy Water from the black bag he had taken with him. When he was finished, Orient took the charcoal and tape and drew a perfect triangle on the floor.

  “I received an incomplete message from Hap while we were talking in your library,” Orient explained as he worked. “While Hap was trying to call me to tell me that Malta was in trouble, the elemental sent to fetch Malta must have entered him.” He stood up. “When someone is trying to make telepathic contact they’re very sensitive to outside forces and virtually defenseless.”

  Redson nodded. “Well, what I came to do for the girl I can do for Prentice. I’ll exorcise the spirit immediately before the demon gains power and brings the galoot to harm.” Redson took the charcoal and, with the aid of a black silk cord, drew a large circle a short distance from the triangle Orient had constructed. As he drew he chanted in Latin.

  Orient knew the words. Redson was making a Circle of Evocation according to the Grimoire of Honorius. He was calling on the powers of light to charge the circle with potency. He invoked the agents Alpha, Omega, Ely, Elothe, Elohim, Sabaoth, Eloin and Sadi for protection.

  While the bishop was completing the circle, Orient went to a small chest that stood against the wall near the door. He lifted the lid and removed a dull m
etal object from the chest.

  When he came back Redson had just finished the small outer circle and was inscribing the words “Spiritus Locus” in its center.

  They moved Hap near these words. He began to stir.

  The two men took their places in the middle of the large circle, the defensive orbit. Redson sprinkled Holy Water around them. Orient held out the five-pointed object for blessing.

  Hap opened his eyes.

  Redson grabbed at the cross around his neck and, holding it before him, began the Incantation of Dismissal.

  Hap let out a single, high pitched shriek.

  As Redson droned the words, Hap thrashed about on the floor, moaning continuously. Great beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

  “See here that which prohibits revolt against our orders, the true cross and the silver pentacle of Solomon.” Orient held the silver pentacle higher. “And those things which order that you return forthwith to your place.”

  Hap was trying to get to his feet. He fell back heavily on his back, struggling against the sudden weight on his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, his eyes rolling in terror. Suddenly a bilious haze oozed from his mouth, a thick yellow smoky substance. He shut his eyes and lay motionless, his face chalk-white.

  Redson’s voice grew louder. Again he evoked the eight agents of protection, again he commanded the dismissal of the spirit.

  As Orient watched, the smoky substance that had been hovering above Hap’s head slithered across the floor toward the triangle he had prepared. The ooze seemed to hesitate as it reached the edge. The stench of decayed meat reached him then, and he started to gag. He squeezed the pentacle he held in his hands and held his breath, clenching his teeth together. There was a steady rushing sound in his ears.

  The substance entered the triangle.

  Once inside, it began to grow and swirl into different shapes.

  It tried vainly to leave the confines of the three-sided figure, spiraling and lurching wildly. For an instant it took the form of a large yellow cat, then, abruptly, it disappeared completely.

  The two men stood watching the triangle for some minutes, their hands still holding the cross and the pentacle aloft.