Keith felt his heart pumping like crazy. "What happens then?"
"The monster will break out of his wooden cocoon and we will cage a basilisk."
"Yeah, but we'll be dead." The professor waved the dark glasses. "Not so. These lenses have magic qualities. Made in ancient China of ink crystals, they ward off the evil eye."
"Even of a monster?"
"What eye is more evil than a basilisk's?" Keith bit his lower lip and looked straight at the professor. Even though he knew the answer, he had to ask the next question. "Ah . . . where are you going to get that blood?"
The professor flashed Keith a knowing smile. "That is not a problem." He went to the refrigerator and took out a glass rooster half-filled with blood. "I have ready the rooster's blood. You have ready the youth's blood." He laid down the spectacles and picked up a glass beaker. "Won't you give an ounce for science? With your blood, a basilisk will come alive."
"Is that cage strong enough to hold him?" Keith asked.
"Steel was not yet invented when the basilisk lived. It will hold him. This will be the scientific discovery of the age. We will have the living wonder of the ancient world."
The professor's voice was lilting and persuasive. "It's a boy sees into his own manhood and has a clear view of what is before him. Can't you see the two of us in Stockholm sharing the Nobel Prize?"
Keith had set out to see a monster, and now fought against his fear. If the price of a ticket was his own blood, he was willing to pay for it. "Okay," he said, "I'll do it for science."
Keith helped set up the camp cot and stretched himself out on it. Professor Zembeck expertly drew the ounce of blood from his arm, and though Keith had no feeling of weakness, the professor told him to lie quiet while he put away the cotton, the rubber hose, and the syringe. That bright red liquid in the glass beaker was his blood, and he watched as the professor added it to the blood in the glass rooster. Seeing his own blood mix with the blood of a fowl, Keith felt strange.
The professor smiled down at him. "At midnight this mix of blood will bring a basilisk back into the world. We will be famous."
A shiver went through Keith. He got up from the cot. "Take these," said the professor. He handed Keith the evil-eye glasses. "You will need them to work around the basilisk. I had two pairs put into modern frames—the ancient tie-on temples were hard to manage. Oh, and here is a case for them. Now you can put them into your pants pocket," he said.
Keith felt bewildered. "Thanks a lot." "You'll make a fine assistant. Come, I'll let you out." Keith followed the professor down the stone stairway. Through the slit window of the tower he could see a flash of orange sky above the trees.
Professor Zembeck touched the switch by the door.
The entry hall was flooded in light. He took out a ring of keys and removed one. "Let yourself in when you come tower room." His domed forehead shone in the light.
"Yes sir."
"Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow." Keith rode out of the grove of trees onto Circle Drive. Some cars already had their lights on. He was late for dinner.
His parents were at the table when he rushed into the family room. "I've got a job," he announced proudly.
His father looked up, pleased. "Really? Where?"
"Out at Abbot Castle." His father put down his fork. "Not for Professor Zembeck?"
"Yes. I'm to help him unpack some stuff."
"What stuff?"
"Jenny Hanivers. He has cartons full of them."
"What are they, dear?" his mother asked. "Fake monsters. Fishermen used to make and sell them as curios."
His mother looked concerned. "Has anyone ever pointed out to you, Keith, that in the Dark Ages monsters were really the manifestation of evil?"
"No one ever saw one—I guess."
"That doesn't mean they were not used to influence the minds of men," Mrs. Volmer said.
Keith was annoyed but curious. "How?" he asked.
"By the evil eye. Superstitions about it were encouraged, and some people used it to manipulate others. Thank goodness the evil eye is not one of our modern problems."
Keith could tell that his father, too, was disturbed. "Look," he said, chewing his food thoughtfully, "I'm glad you have what it takes to go out and get yourself a job, but tomorrow I'll drop by and have a talk with the professor."
"Why?" Keith demanded.
"Oh there's some gossip about. Some say he's not right in the head. I'll talk to him and let you know."
"He's okay," Keith said. "I talked to him.
"That will make two of us." His father's voice was firm.
Keith was behind schedule with his homework. He kept thinking what his father had said about the professor. Of course people would think Zembeck a nut. Folks didn't believe in old-fashioned monsters anymore. Instead, they have new ones like the Abominable Snowman, or the Loch Ness Monster, or flying saucers. But at midnight there would be another monster around, and it would come to life with his blood.
Keith also couldn't stop thinking of the evil eye. His mother's remarks worried him. Surely he would be protected by the Chinese glasses, but would he also be responsible for the monster's return? Would he be accountable for his blood—for what the basilisk might do?
He shivered. The evil eye would be back in the world again—the monster serpent of evil. He thought about it with mounting concern. It would have his blood, with his consent. No prize was worth it. He must go and beg the professor not to bring the monster to life. The basilisk had long been forgotten. It must remain that way.
At ten o'clock Keith shut off the light in his room and climbed into bed with his clothes on. He waited in the dark for what seemed like hours. When the luminous hand on his bedside clock pointed to eleven, he heard his door being pushed open. He snorted a snore through his lips, and minutes later, the light in his parents' room blacked out.
For what seemed an eternity, Keith lay waiting. When he could stand it no longer, he slipped down the hall to the back porch and opened the inner door to the garage. He rolled his bike back through the porch and out to the cement walk. Rubber tires and sneakers made no noise. Keeping to the side of the road, without lights, he became a silent shadow, spinning under the trees. That was his undoing. Keith had stayed on Circle Drive because it was lined with trees and he would be unnoticed by passing cars. But he overlooked parked cars. Almost running into one, a battery of lights hit him in the face.
"Where do you think you're going?" The voice was tough, authoritative, and a little amused. Keith stared into the light, blinded.
"Speak up, boy," said the voice, and when the lights shut off, a police officer stood facing him.
"I'm going home . . . eventually." That last word was spoken under his breath.
"I'll have to write you a ticket," the officer said, "for riding without lights. What's your name?"
"Keith Volmer."
"Address?"
"Twenty-two forty Circle Drive."
"It's pretty late for kids to be out. What were you doing?"
"I have a job."
"You better get on home. Hear?"
"Yes sir." Keith was on his bike and down the road before he had to answer more questions. Luckily, Circle Drive passed the castle before it passed his own house— Circle Drive circled the town.
Keith rode his bicycle up to the castle gate. With only a thin slice of moon in the sky, the castle looked bleak. There was a glow of light behind the draperies in the tower. Was he too late? Quietly Keith laid his bike in the tall grass and started for the door.
Keith fished for the key in his pocket, and the small modern lock opened silently. Keith switched on the lights. Carefully he put on the evil-eye glasses, and with the utmost caution, entered the stairway.
Climbing the steps one stone at a time, Keith felt his way along the wall. What had happened? Everything was dark, he climbed faster and faster.
Reaching the red draperies, Keith carefully parted them. At that moment an alarm clock on the workbench began to
ring. A cry stuck in Keith's throat as the professor poured the blood from the glass rooster into the cock's mouth.
Like splintered glass, the wooden coffin exploded. The professor leaped through the door of the cage, but the basilisk was upon him. Frantically, he tried to close the cage door, but the monster slammed it back against the bars with its powerful wings, flattening the professor like a steak on a grill.
Keith tore the draperies apart and let out a whoop. The basilisk turned its feathered head. The baleful eyes and monstrous beak made Keith yell even louder. The uproar worked. Dropping the professor, the monster started for Keith.
Down the stairs Keith fled. He could hear the scratching claws on the stone steps and he could smell the sickening smell of the basilisk as it advanced. His heart pounded, and the smell made him weak and sick to his stomach. His mouth was dry and bitter. He could barely swallow. How close was the thing behind him?
Keith plunged into the entry hall. The blazing lights seemed undimmed by his dark glasses. He backed against the huge mirror, his eyes focusing upon the stone staircase. In hypnotic fear Keith waited for the monster.
The tail of the basilisk—writhing and hissing between its feathered legs—came first, followed by the malignant cock's head, more horrible than the counterpart rattlers on the tail of a rattlesnake. Then out of the shadows came the body of the winged reptile—a gory horror of yellow feathers. Cold terror froze Keith against the mirror.
The monster's eyes, shining with greenish luster, turned si on Keith, while the smell—the nauseous stench—permeated the entry hall. With its horrible head thrust forward, the creature came closer and closer. Lifting its limpid eyes to the mirror, the basilisk saw its own face. Instantly it exploded into an eruption of yellow feathers. The hissing sizzled into silence while a pool of monster blood formed at Keith's feet.
Keith was aroused out of his shock by a man's voice. It was a policeman—the same officer who had given him the ticket. His parents were close behind. The three stared at him. They stared at the feathers and the blood.
"Are you okay, son?" his father asked. "The officer phoned us about you and your bike, and we guessed you'd be here."
Somehow Keith found his voice. "Professor Zembeck needs help." Steadying himself, Keith started for the tower room. Followed by the others, he felt drawn up into a whirlpool of evil. At the top of the stairs, the red velour draperies framed a view of the giant cage. The door of steel bars was shut tight. Wild-eyed, Professor Zembeck cowered in the corner of the cage. He waved his arms.
"Don't open the door!" he shouted. "An unholy monster of evil is loose in the world. He will come back for me. He has broken my glasses. The evil eye will destroy me!"
Keith took off his own Chinese glasses and handed them through the bars to the professor. This quieted him.
The officer snapped the lock on the cage door and put the key in his pocket. "It's a sad case. A brilliant man, they tell me." He turned toward the stairs. "Let's get going. I'll send out for an ambulance."
Mr. and Mrs. Volmer each took Keith by the arm as they slowly descended the stone steps. The officer waited in the entry, studying the mound of feathers.
"What's this mess all about?" he asked. Keith stared down into the yellow feathers and the pool of monster blood. "Just a crazy experiment," he said.
Tigger
by A. M. LIGHTNER
They call me Tigger. I'm a cat. Not one of those little household cats that are sometimes taken aboard a spaceship for the companionship they give. My ancestors were earth-side wildcats—often called bobcats—which is why I have such a short tail. But the rest of me is bigger than most space cats and I have a handsome ruff. I'm also a smart cat and have learned to use the bio-thought-recorder. And that is why I've been asked to report on some of my most interesting adventures.
I joined the space service when the call went out for cats. It was recognized that when exploring a new world with unknown dangers, the special senses of a cat—an animal that can see better, hear better, and smell better than humans—could be used to great advantage. Oh, a human can spot a huge monster coming at him. And the many instruments they have can tell if the atmosphere is poisonous or if an avalanche is about to fall. But for the many little dangers—the snakelike animal in the grass, the deadly creature hanging from a bush—there is nothing like the keen senses of a feline. Especially if it's a smart one like me with all the instincts of my wild ancestors.
I've always worked with the crew of the Condor, and of all the humans aboard that ship, my favorite is Ellie. That's short for Eloise, but everyone calls her Ellie. Ellie has the loveliest smell. I'd know it from thousands of others on a dark night. Like me, she's only been on this ship a short time. You see, we're both quite young and just starting in this work.
Ellie's crazy about plants. At least it seems crazy to me. She doesn't care where she goes to find a new plant, and she's always on the lookout for plants that can stop bleeding or cure some disease or are good to eat. And when she gets on the track of something like that, she forgets about everything else. Believe me, she needs me to keep her from walking into a mess of angry alien ants or just to help her find her way back to the spaceship.
I go out with some of the other crew members, too, but I like Ellie best. She pays attention. She gives me credit. The others often act as though I don't know anything . . . till we get into a really hot spot, that is. And then they're apt to level everything around with their blasters, and I'm lucky if I can get out of the way.
Ellie, on the other hand, never takes a weapon with her. She says that we're the intruders, and if there's any danger she can always count on me to warn her. And anyway, with all her scientific gear, she has enough to carry.
But I've talked sufficiently about myself. If I say any more, they'll cut it out of the report. I know. They think I'm stuck on myself. Well, maybe after you hear this story, you'll agree I've got reason.
This last place we went, something happened that really had me scared. We were in a big dense forest—what best place to find interesting plants. The trees and the bushes were so thick that after we had gone only a few steps, we were all shut in. Ellie said it was easy to get lost and made little cuts on the trees to blaze her trail. But I never get lost. I always know which way the spaceship is. It's something the captain calls instinct.
Moving slowly through the forest, Ellie was having a wonderful time collecting leaves from every tree and bush, and digging up low plants or pieces of root for her collection. The biggest trees went straight up so high you could hardly see where the branches began, and they had rough purple bark, and blue leaves instead of green.
But there were smaller trees, too, and leaves from these were the ones she collected. Sometimes she climbed them— she's a good climber on the smaller trees. And sometimes I would climb up and go out on a branch to bend it over far enough for her to grab hold and pick the leaves. But busy as I was helping Ellie, I also had to keep a sharp nose and eye out to be sure she didn't get hold of some strange poisonous creature. For mixed up with all the trees and bushes were hairy vines, mosses, and other strange growing things.
After working like this all morning, I naturally began to get hungry. So when Ellie decided it was time for lunch, I was glad. In the deep forest you can't see the sun, and the light is always dim so it's hard to know what time it is. But Ellie had a watch, and she wouldn't let us stop for lunch till it was really noon.
That's another thing I like about Ellie. She's always willing to share. When I go out with any of the others, they say, "You'll get yours when we get back to the ship. One meal is enough for a fat cat like you."
I don't know why they think I'm fat. Ellie says I'm just the right size for a big bobcat. She says the others are critical because they remember the little house cats they grew up with.
This time, Ellie had a fish sandwich and she gave me some of the fish. Why humans like to surround delicious fish with something like bread, I can't understand. But I guess i
t was best that way because while Ellie had the bread to eat, I had a lot of the fish. Ellie also had some cheese. And she wasn't stingy.
Having polished off every crumb of that savory meal, sitting on a rock I had carefully inspected for stinging bugs, I was busy cleaning myself when Ellie gave a little cough and sucked in her breath. When I looked up to see what had startled her, I found myself face to face with one of those big menaces that explorers like to talk about but usually have never seen. And, though I'm ready to deal with any little menace that may come hopping, crawling, or slithering toward Ellie, I guessed right away that this was way out of my class.
All we could see at first was a face peering out at us through the leaves. It was quite high up, so I could see that the creature was a great deal bigger than I was. And if it wasn't quite as tall as Ellie when she was standing up, its teeth were certainly a lot bigger than hers.
Ellie put her hand out and took a firm hold of my ruff. "Sit still," she whispered. "Maybe it will go away." But I could smell her fear and it made my ruff bristle and the hair along my back stand up. My job was to take care of the little dangers. Now here was a big one, and I began to wish that Ellie had brought a blaster with her. From the way this beast smelled, I knew it wasn't going to go away.
As usual I was right. The leaves slipped aside as the creature came more fully into view. It was big all right— four legs with well-clawed feet, and a body covered with dark blue spots—good camouflage for stalking through blue-leafed forests. It also had a long tail with a purple tuft and sharp claw on the end, and teeth that were certainly not made for eating vegetables. But then something struck me.
The head on the end of a long neck looked like a cat's! In fact the face was not unlike some of my bigger relatives on Earth—lions or tigers. But I had never run into cats before on any planet I had visited. Could this world be different?
Norton, Andre - Anthology Page 4