Image of the Beast / Blown

by Philip José Farmer

noting that he had a slight headache and a brassy tongue

  and gums. His teeth felt enlarged.

  Their prison was a single bedroom and a bathroom.

  There was one door for entrance.

  Sybil woke up. She lay there for a while and then got

  out of bed. She went to him, and he put his arm around

  her and said, "I'm sorry about this. If I had made you

  leave, you wouldn't be in this mess."

  "That can't be helped," she said. "Do you think that

  we'll ever get out of this? I wish I knew what these people

  wanted."

  "We should find out sooner or later," he said. He re-

  leased her and prowled around the room. There was a

  large mirror fixed in the wall above the dresser and an-

  other wall-high mirror on the opposite side of the room.

  He supposed that these were one-way windows.

  An hour passed. Sybil had quit trying to talk and had

  started to read, of all things, a mystery novel she found

  in a bookcase. He investigated again with the idea of

  using something to help them get out. He observed that

  the door was heavy steel and was set tightly against the

  wall. It swung outward.

  An hour and a half after awakening, the door was

  opened. Pao and two men entered. Sybil spoke to one.

  "Plugger!"

  Plugger was a tall, well-built, dark-skinned man. His

  hands were long and narrow with long tapering fingers.

  These were covered with small protuberances, a feature

  Sybil had not described.

  "Our enemies—and yours—were moving in fast," Pao

  said. "That is why we had to take you two away. I am

  sorry; we're all sorry. But it had to be done. Otherwise,

  you would have fallen into the hands of the Tocs."

  "Tocs?" Childe said.

  "Everything will be explained," Pao said. "Very

  quickly. Meanwhile, we require your presence else-

  where."

  "And Sybil?"

  "She will have to stay here. But she won't be harmed."

  Childe kissed Sybil and said, "I'll be back. I don't

  think they intend us any evil. Not now, anyway."

  He watched Plugger shut the door. There was a button

  in its middle; when this was pressed, an unlocking mech-

  anism was activated. Childe reached out and pressed the

  button, and the door swung out swiftly.

  Pao said, "What are you doing?" and pressed the but-

  ton to shut the door.

  "I just wanted to see how it worked," Childe said.

  They started down the hall, which was wide and lux-

  uriously carpeted and furnished. He stopped after a few

  steps. He had been right. The mirror was a one-way

  device. He could see Sybil still standing in the middle of

  the room, her hands clenched by her side.

  He decided to see how valuable he was to them.

  "I'd like that mirror turned off," he said. "I don't like

  being spied on."

  Pao hesitated and then said, "Very well."

  He pressed a button on the side of the mirror and it

  darkened.

  "I'd like the other mirror turned off, too," Childe said.

  "I'll see it's done," Pao said. "Come along now."

  Childe followed him with the other two men behind

  him. At the end of the hall, they turned left into another

  hall and halfway down that turned right into a very large

  room. This looked like the salon of a millionaire's house

  as constructed for a movie set. There was a magnificent

  concert piano at the far end and very expensive furniture,

  perhaps genuine Louis XV pieces, around the room. A

  peculiar feature, however, was the glass or transparent

  metal cube set in the middle of the room. Inside this was

  a slender-legged dark-red wooden table on top of which

  was a silvery goblet. Or half a goblet. One side seemed to

  be complete, but the other was missing. It was as if a

  shears had cut through the cup part of the goblet at a

  forty-five degree angle.

  Pao led Childe to the transparent cube and motioned to

  a man to bring a chair. Childe looked around. There

  were six exits, some of them broad enough for three men

  to go through abreast. There were also about fifty men

  and women in the room, a large number of them between

  him and the exits. All were dressed in tails and gowns.

  Pao and his two men were the only ones in business

  clothes. He recognized Panchita Pocyotl and Vivienne

  Mabcrough. Vivienne wore a scarlet floor-length formal

  with a deep V almost to her navel. Her pale skin and

  auburn hair contrasted savagely with the flaming gown.

  She was holding a big ostrich fan. Seeing his eyes on her,

  she smiled.

  The crowd had been talking when he entered but the

  conversation softened as he was brought before the cube.

  Now Pao held up his hand, and the voices died away. A

  man brought a chair with three legs, a heavy wooden

  thing with a symbol carved into the back. The symbol was

  a delta with one end stuck into the open mouth of a

  rampant fish.

  "Please sit down," Pao said.

  Childe sat down in the chair and leaned against its

  back. He could feel the alto-relief of the carved symbol

  pressing into his back. At the same time, the dull silver

  of the goblet inside the cube became bright and shimmery.

  The brightness increased until it glowed as if it were

  about to melt.

  A murmur of what sounded to him like awe ran

  through the people.

  Pao smiled and said, "We would appreciate it if you

  would concentrate on the goblet, Herald Childe."

  "Concentrate how?" Childe said.

  "Just look at it. Examine it thoroughly. Let it fill your

  mind. You will know what I mean."

  Childe shrugged. Why not? The procedure and the

  goblet had aroused his curiosity, and their intentions did

  not seem sinister. Certainly, he was being treated far

  better than when he had been a prisoner in Igescu's.

  He sat in the chair and stared at the shining goblet. It

  had a broad base with small raised figures the outlines of

  which were fuzzy. After a while, as he studied them, they

  became clear. They were men and women, naked, and

  animals engaged in a sexual orgy. Set here and there

  among them were goblets like that at which he looked,

  except that these were complete. There was a curious

  scene in which a tiny woman was halfway into a large

  goblet while a creature that looked like the Werewolf of

  London, as played by Henry Hull, rammed a long dick

  into her asshole. At one side of the base, almost out of

  view, was a man emerging from a goblet. His legs were

  still within the cup, but his stiff dong was out and was

  being squeezed by the tentacle of a creature that seemed

  to be a six-legged octopus with human hermaphroditic

  organs. While it was jacking-off the man in the goblet, it

  was also fucking itself.

  Childe did not know what the scene represented, but it

  seemed to him that it had something to do with fecundity.

  Not with fecundity in the sense of begetting children but

 
of …

  He almost grasped the sense of the figures and their

  play, but it danced away.

  The goblet stem was slender. A snake-like thing of

  silver coiled around it, its head flattening out to become

  the underpart of the cup. Its two eyes, distorted, were

  the only dark spots on the bright silver of the goblet.

  The outside of the cup, except for the serpent's head,

  was bare. But the inside bore some raised geometrical

  figures that shifted as he looked at them. Sometimes he

  could pin them down for a half a second and the figures

  began to make sense, even if they were totally unfamiliar.

  The goblet shone even more brilliantly. The room

  became quieter, and then, suddenly, he could hear the

  breathing of everyone in the room, except for himself,

  and, far away, the impact of rain on the roof and the

  walls of the house and, even more distantly, the roar of

  the waters down the street outside.

  There was a hissing he could not at first identify. It was

  so weak, so remote. And then he knew. He did not have

  to turn his head to look, and it would have done no good

  if he had. The thing was hidden under Vivienne's dress. It

  had slid out and was dangling between her legs. Its little

  bearded mouth was open, the tongue flickering out, and it

  was hissing with rage or lust. Or, perhaps, some other

  emotion. Awe?

  The fight from the goblet became more intense. Sur-

  prisingly, he could look at it without pain. Its whiteness

  seemed to drill into his eyes and flood his brain. The

  interior of his skull was white; his brain was a glowing

  jewel.

  There was a collective intake of breath, and the light

  went out. The darkness that followed was painful. He felt

  as if something very much beloved had died. His life was

  empty; he had no reason to live.

  He wept.

  36

  When he was finished sobbing—and he still did not know

  why he had felt so bereaved—he looked up. The people

  were not talking, but they were making some noise as they

  shifted around. Also, several were passing through the

  crowd and serving a liquid in small goblets. The people

  drank it with one swallow and then put their goblets back

  onto the large silver trays.

  Pao appeared from behind him with a tray on which

  stood a goblet filled with a dark liquid and several sand-

  wiches. The bread was coarse and black.

  "Drink and then eat," Pao said.

  "And if I don't?"

  Pao looked stricken, but he shrugged his shoulders and

  said, "This is one thing that we can't compel you to do.

  But I swear by my mother planet that the food and drink

  will not harm you."

  Childe looked at the goblet again. It was not quite as

  dull as it had been a moment ago. It flickered when he

  looked at it. When he looked away, but could still see it

  out of the corner of his eye, it became dull once more.

  "When will I find out what all this means?" Childe said.

  "Perhaps during the ceremony. It is better that you …

  remember."

  "Remember?"

  Pao did not offer to explain. Childe smelled the liquid.

  Its odor was winey, but there was an unfamiliar under-

  odor (was there such a word?) to it. The underodor

  evoked a flashing image of infinite black space with stars

  here and there and then another image of a night sky with

  sheets of white fire and giant red, blue, yellow, garnet,

  emerald, and purple stars filling the sky. And there was a

  fleeting landscape of red rock with mushroom-shaped

  buildings of white and red stone, trees that looked in-

  verted, with their branches on the ground and their roots

  feeding on the air, and a thin band with scarlet, pale

  green, and white threads, something like a Saturn's ring,

  arcing across the sky near the horizon.

  He drained the tiny goblet with one gulp and, feeling

  hungry immediately afterward, ate the sandwiches. The

  meat tasted like beef with blue cheese.

  When the goblets had been passed around, and every-

  body was standing as if waiting for something to happen

  —which they were, Childe supposed—Pao raised his

  hands. He spoke in a loud voice: "The Childe must

  have power!"

  That was a funny way to refer to him, Childe thought

  The Childe?

  The crowd answered in a loud chorus, "The Childe

  must have power!"

  Pao said, "There is but one way in which The Childe

  may gain this power!"

  The people echoed, "There is but one way in which

  The Childe may gain this power!"

  "And grow!

  "And grow!"

  "And become a man!"

  "And become a man!"

  "And become our Captain!"

  "And become our Captain!"

  "And lead us to our long lost home!"

  "And lead us to our long lost home!"

  "And permit us to triumph over our enemies, the

  Tocs!"

  "And permit us to triumph over our enemies, the

  Tocs!"

  "Through the nothingness and the utter cold he will

  lead us!"

  There was more, none of which made any sense

  to Childe except for the reference to their enemies, the

  Tocs. These must be the people of whom he had so far

  met only three. The three who had rescued him from

  Vivienne and reproached her for breaking the truce.

  The liquor was making him feel very heady by then.

  And the food had infused him with strength. He looked at

  the goblet, which glowed as if his gaze beamed radium at

  it.

  Pao finally finished his chanting. Immediately, the

  crowd became noisy. They started talking and laughing.

  And they were also stripping off their clothes. Panchita

  Pocyotl shed her gown, revealing that she wore nothing

  under it except long stockings held up by huge scarlet

  garters. Vivienne was not far behind her; she wore a gar-

  ter belt and stockings. The snake-thing had withdrawn;

  her auburn bush looked very attractive.

  Pao, naked, his skinny dick dangling halfway down be-

  tween his thighs, said, "Would you please undress, Cap-

  tain?"

  Childe, feeling dizzy, rose. He said, "Captain?"

  "You will know what I mean—I hope," Pao said.

  Childe remembered with a pang of dread his treatment

  at the hands of the enormously fat Mrs. Grasatchow when

  he was a prisoner in Igescu's house.

  He said, "Am I to be abused?"

  "No one would think of that now," Pao said. "Vivienne

  made a very bad mistake, and if we did not need her so

  much, we might have killed her. But she was overcome

  by your power, and that is a reasonable excuse for her

  actions. Nevertheless, she will not be permitted to touch

  you tonight."

  Childe, looking at the naked and superbly shaped

  woman, felt his penis rising. The liquid seemed to have

  gone down warmly to the place behind his navel and

  there caught fire. The blaze spread out, up, and down, but
>
  mainly down. The base of his cock was rammed with a

  boiling and heavy liquid metal; it expanded upwards,

  filling out his cock, lifting it up, and making it throb.

  He said, "All right," and he undressed.

  Pao took his clothes and left the room. Childe, standing

  there, felt foolish, and so he sat down. The others seemed

  to know what was expected of them; they began embrac-

  ing and caressing each other, standing up, or lying down

  on the floor, or on the sofas. They were not putting their

  whole hearts into their lovemaking, however; they were,

  waiting for someone or something.

  Pao returned. He walked up to Childe, took his hand,

  and said, "Your blessing, Captain."

  He placed his long slim peter on Childe's upturned

  palm, and the dead worm came to life. It became red and

  swollen and rose up off the hand as if launched. Pao

  backed away and bowed and kissed Childe's hand where

  his peter had lain.

  "I thank you, Captain," he said.

  There was a scramble among the couples after that.

  They arranged themselves in a double line in an order of

  precedence which they seemed to know well. There was

  no quarreling or struggling to get ahead of one another.

  The first two in line were Panchita Pocyotl and a big

  blond man with Scandinavian features. They stood before

  Childe, between him and the goblet in the cube.

  The man said, "Your pardon, Captain," and took

  Childe's hand and closed the fingers around his half-erect

  dong. At the touch, the big-knobbed dong filled up like a

  blimp being engorged with gas. It lay hard and throbbing

  in Childe's hand, and a small drop of fluid oozed out of

  the slit in the glans. The man stepped back and Panchita

  got down on her knees and took Childe's penis in one

  hand and kissed it on the head and the shaft. Then she

  arose, looked once into his eyes with her large luminous

  dark-brown eyes, and withdrew with the man.

  Childe watched them. They walked to a sofa and lay

  down on it. Panchita spread her legs out and over his

  shoulders, and he inserted himself into the thick black

  glossy bush and began pumping. His red Swedish ass

  went faster and faster and then, Suddenly, both groaned

  and writhed. After they had come, they lay quiescent and

  then, a few minutes later, he was fucking her dog fashion.