The Image and the Likeness

by John Scott Campbell

  VI

  I awoke with a throbbing headache to find the steel room motionless, andwarm sunshine streaming into my face. Looking around, I saw that mythree companions were all up and apparently in good shape. Baker was thefirst to notice that I was awake, and he came over immediately.

  "Feel better?" he inquired cheerfully.

  He helped me up and I staggered to the window. The room was perched, asusual, on a hilltop, but the vegetation around was not tropical jungle.I turned to the others, noting as I did that the room was cleaned up.

  "Where--" I started, with a gesture outside. Baker stopped me and led meto an improvised canvas hammock.

  "You really got a nasty one," he said. "You've been out two days."

  "Two days!" I tried to rise, but the effort so increased the headachethat I gave up and collapsed into the hammock.

  "Just lie quiet and I'll bring you up to date." Baker drew up an emptyfilm box for a seat. "I was knocked about a bit myself, you know, and bythe time I came around, our friend had trotted the whole length of theMalay Peninsula and was halfway across Burma."

  "But the people at Singapore," I began, "Don't those fools know yet--"

  "Things have changed," said Baker. "The biggest change has been inBuddha's mind. He took our advice and almost got killed for his pains.Now he's on his own."

  I tried to look through the open door. Baker shook his head.

  "He's not here. No--" this in answer to my startled look, "just off fora stroll, towards China this time, I think. Yesterday he visited Lhasa.Said it's quite a place. Talked to the Lamas in Tibetan, and theyunderstood him. He calls it playing Buddha."

  Baker got up and searched among the maps, finally finding one ofsoutheast Asia. He spread it out before me, and placed a finger rathervaguely on the great Yunnan Plateau between Burma and China.

  "We're here, somewhere. Buddha doesn't know exactly, himself. He made itto Lhasa by following the Himalayas, and watching for the Potala. I hopehe'll find his way back this time--be a bit awkward for us if hedoesn't."

  He stepped outside and brought in some cold cooked rice and meat.

  "Kazu brought us a handful of cows yesterday. They were practicallymashed into hamburger. I guess you'd call this pounded steak."

  I ate some of the meat and settled back to rest again. Presently I dozedoff.

  When I awakened it was dark and Kazu was back. Martin had started a bigcampfire outside, evidently with Kazu's aid, for it was stoked withseveral logs fully eight feet in diameter and was sending flames fiftyfeet into the sky. Kazu himself was squatting directly over it, staringdown at us. When I came to the door, he spoke.

  "Ah, little brother Bill. I am so sorry that you were hurt. I am afraidI forgot to be gentle, and that is not forgiveable in Buddha."

  I made an appropriate reply, and then waited. Evidently he had as yettold nothing of his day's expedition. Finally he plucked a roastedbullock from the fire and popped it into his mouth like a nut.

  "Today," he said, "I visit Chungking, Nanking, Peking. I think I seehundred million Chinese. I know more than that see me. Also I talk tothem. They understand, for miles. They expected me. As you say, brotherLlewelyn, Rau has excellent propaganda machine. Everywhere they hail meas Buddha, come to save them from war and disease and westernimperialism. I speak to them as Buddha; today, I am Buddha."

  Baker glanced at us meaningfully and murmured, "I was afraid of this."But Kazu continued.

  "Today all of China believes I am Buddha. Only you and I know this isnot so, but we can fight best if they believe."

  "Have you eaten?" inquired Martin. Kazu nodded.

  "At every temple they collect rice for Buddha. Many small meals makefull belly. But," his face wrinkled with concern, "many thousands couldlive on what I eat today. China is so poor. So many people, so littlefood. I must find ways to help them." He paused, and then resumed in afirmer tone.

  "But not in communist way. Rau was right about western imperialists, buthe named wrong country. Russian imperialists have enslaved China. Firstwe must drive communists from China. Then I can help."

  "Amen," said Baker softly. Then, to Kazu....

  "We've been trying to do just that for years. But how can you fightseven hundred million people?"

  "Don't fight--lead them."

  It sounded so simple, the way he said it. Well, maybe he could. But nowBaker had more practical questions.

  "What does the rest of the world think about all this? Have you talkedto any Europeans, or heard a radio?"

  Kazu shook his head. "But I caught communist General. He tell me Russiasending army to capture me. He say only hope is for me to surrender, orRussian drop atom bomb on me. Then I eat him."

  We must have showed our startled reaction, for Kazu laughed.

  "Not much nourishment in communist. I eat him for propaganda--manypeople see me do it. Effect very good." He paused. "Not tasty, butsymbolic meal. China is like Buddha, giant who can eat up enemies."

  "What are you going to do next?" asked Baker.

  "That is question. I need more information. Where is leadership in ChinaI can trust? What will Russians do? How long for British and Americansto wake up?"

  "You're not the only one asking these questions," said Baker. "But maybeyou can get some answers."

  * * * * *

  Before Kazu could continue, Chamberlin held up his hand for silence. Welistened, and presently heard above the crackle of the great bonfire,the throb of an airplane engine. Kazu heard it too, for he suddenlyarose and stepped back out of the light. We four also hastened into theshadows and peered into the dark sky. The approaching aircraft displayedno lights, but presently we saw it in the firelight--a multi-jet bomberbearing American markings. We rushed back into the illuminated area anddanced up and down, waving our arms. The huge plane swung in a widecircle and came in less than five hundred feet above the hilltop. Icould make out faces peering down at us from the glassed greenhouse infront. As it roared past, one wing tipped slightly in the updraft fromthe fire, and then suddenly the plane stopped dead in its tracks. Thejets roared a deeper note as they bit into still air, and then veryslowly and gently the great ship moved back and down until it rested onits belly beside our steel box. Not until it was quite safe on theground did Kazu's hands release their hold on the wings, where he hadcaught it in midair.

  The eleven crew men from the B125 came out with their hands in the air,but their expressions were more incredulous than frightened. Baker addedto the unreality of the situation by his greeting, done in the best "Dr.Livingstone-I-presume" manner.

  "Welcome to Camp Yunnan. Sorry we had to be so abrupt. I'm Baker, theseare Chamberlin, Martin, Cady."

  "I'm Faulkner," replied the leader of the Americans automatically, andthen he abruptly sat down and was violently sick. We waited patientlyuntil he could speak again.

  "My God, I didn't believe it when we heard." He was talking to no-one inparticular. "One minute we're flying at 450 miles per hour, the nextwe're picked out of the air like a--like a--"

  He gave up. Kazu came into the firelight and squatted down, quiteslowly. Baker introduced him.

  "Colonel, I'd like you to meet Kazu Takahashi." The American arose andextended his hand, and then dropped it abruptly to his side. Kazuemitted a thunderous chuckle.

  "Handshake is, I fear, formality I must always pass up, even at risk ofimpoliteness."

  I think that the language, and particularly the phrasing, jolted theairmen even more than the actual capture. Colonel Faulkner kept shakinghis head and murmuring "My God!" for several moments, and then pulledhimself together. "So the story's really true after all," he finallysaid. "We got it on the radio day before yesterday at Manila. It was sogarbled at first that nobody could make any sense. Ships reportedthousand foot men wading in the ocean. New Macassar radio reported thatBuddha was reincarnated, and then denied the story. Announcements of apitched battle at Singapore, and frantic reports from every town on thepeninsula. Then a stateme
nt by some Lama on Macassar that the Britishhad kidnaped Buddha, had him hypnotized or doped, and were using him toexterminate China."

  He paused and looked up at Kazu, who had bent down until his face wasonly a hundred feet above us.

  "Part of it is true," said Baker. "There was a giant wading in theocean. As to the rest, I fear we have caught the red radio without ascript. I'll tell you the story presently, but just now there are moreurgent things to do. Is your radio working?"

  Faulkner nodded and led us towards the plane. Baker continued.

  "Briefly, Kazu is a mutation produced by the Hiroshima bomb. He's beengroomed for twenty years to take over as the world's largest puppet, butit turns out he has a mind of his own. We just happened along, and aregoing on for the ride. Want to join the party?"

  The Colonel grinned for the first time as we all squeezed into the radiocompartment of the plane.

  "I like travel," he said. "It's so broadening."

  The radio was not only operative, but proved most informative as well.Every transmitter on earth, it seemed, was talking about the giant. Inthe course of an hour we listened to a dozen major stations and got asmany versions of the story. The communist propaganda factory hadobviously been caught flat footed, for their broadcasts were a hopelessmixture of releases evidently prepared for the planned introduction ofBuddha to the world, and hastily assembled diatribes against thecapitalist imperialists who had so foully captured him. Some of theRussians apparently were not in on the secret of Buddha's dimensions,for they described in detail how a raiding party of eighty Americancommando-gangsters had landed by parachute on Yat, seized Buddha, andtaken him away in a seaplane.

  Before we went to sleep that night, Kazu extinguished the fire so thatno one else would be attracted as the Colonel had been.

  * * * * *

  Next morning the first question concerned transportation. ColonelFaulkner naturally did not want to leave his plane, particularly sinceit was undamaged, but a takeoff from our narrow mountain ledge wasobviously impossible, so he regretfully ordered his crew to unload theirpersonal effects for transfer to our box. At this point Kazu stepped in.

  "If you will enter your airplane and start jets," he said, "Buddha willserve as launching mechanism."

  Before the takeoff, the Colonel transferred his spare radio gear to ourbox, along with an auxiliary generator, and we agreed on a schedule tokeep in touch. Then Kazu gently picked up the bomber, raised it highabove his head and sent it gliding off to the north. The engines cougheda couple of times and then caught with a roar. Colonel Faulkner waggedhis wings and vanished into the haze.

  Our plan was to follow the plane east to the Wu River, and then north toits meeting with the Yangtze, which occurs some seventy five miles belowChungking. While the B125 cruised around us in a great circle, we loadedour belongings into the box, and Kazu picked us up and signalled theplane that we were ready. Colonel Faulkner's intention had been tocircle us rather than leave us behind with his superior speed, but in amoment it became clear that this would not be necessary. Kazu set offdown the canyon at a pace better than three hundred miles per hour, andthe Colonel had to gun his motors to keep up.

  We passed only a few small towns on the Wu. Kazu had been here before,and had evidently stopped to talk and make friends, for we observed noneof the fright which had formerly greeted his advent. Instead, crowds ranout to meet us, waving the forbidden Nationalist flag and shooting offfirecrackers. Kazu spoke briefly in Cantonese to each group, and thenhurried on. Baker explained that he was giving them formal blessings, inthe name of Buddha.

  An hour's time brought us to Fowchow, on the mighty Yangtze Kiang. HereKazu turned left, wading in the stream, and negotiated the seventy oddmiles to Chungking in fifteen minutes.

  The distance from Chungking to Hankow is somewhat more than five hundredmiles. For much of this distance the Yangtze is bounded by mountains androcky gorges, but in the final 150 miles, the hills drop away and theriver winds slowly through China's lake country. Kazu made good time inthe gorge, but his feet sank a hundred feet into the soft alluvial soilof the lowlands and he had constantly to watch out for villages andfarms.

  Buddha had not visited Hankow before, but he was expected. Even beforethe city came into view, the roads were lined with people and the canalsand lakes jammed with sampans. Just outside of the city we noticed asmall group of men in military uniform under a white flag. We guessedthat they represented the communist city government, and so did Kazu,for he set our box beside the group and ordered the spokesman to come infor a parlay. The unfortunate officer who was picked obviously did notrelish the idea, particularly after Martin cracked in English, "Hedoesn't look fat enough." Giving Martin a glare, he drew himself upstiffly and said, "General Soo prepared to die, if necessary for peopleof China."

  The communist General showed somewhat less bravado after the stomachturning ascent to the six hundred foot level, but he managed to get offa speech in answer to Kazu's question. As before, Baker gave us arunning translation.

  "He says welcome to Hankow. The people's government, ever responsive tothe will of the citizens, joins with all faithful Buddhists in welcomingBuddha, and in expressing heartfelt thanksgiving that rumors claimingBuddha to be a puppet of western imperialists are all false. Now he'ssaying that there is to be a big party--a banquet--for Buddha, in thecentral square. Rice has been collected and cooked, and a thousand sheepslaughtered to feed hungry Buddha."

  Kazu replied formally that while he appreciated the hospitality of thepeople of Hankow, he could not accept food from the enemies of China.These words, which were clearly audible to the entire city, were greetedwith cheers by the throng below. The General took this in, thought aboutit a moment, and then made a neat about face.

  "General Soo," said he stoutly, "was communist when he believedcommunism only hope for China. You have changed everything. General Soonow faithful Buddhist!"

  "May I," said Baker with a grin, "be the first to congratulate GeneralSoo on his perspicacity."

  * * * * *

  As the General had promised, there was a great banquet spread. In spiteof Soo's protestations, Baker insisted on sampling each course ratherextensively for sleeping potions or poison, but either the idea had notoccurred to the communists, or there hadn't been enough time, or poisonavailable.

  For the most part the civil government of Hankow joined with General Sooin a loudly declared conversion to Buddhism without communist trappings.In spite of Baker's skepticism, I believed that most of them were quitesincere. At least, they sincerely wanted to be on the side with the mostpower, and for the time being at least, Kazu seemed an easy winner.General Soo, in particular, insisted on making a long speech in which hedeclared the Russians to be the true "western imperialists", nowunmasked, who since the days of the first Stalin had sought to enslaveChina with lies and trickery. Baker shook his head over this, andprivately opined that Soo was a very poor fence straddler: such remarkswent beyond the needs of expediency, and would probably completelyalienate him from the Kremlin. However, the crowd thought it was allfine.

  Kazu replied with a short, and generally well planned statement of hispolicy.

  "Those who follow me," he concluded, "have no easy path. They must bestrong, to throw off the yoke of those who would enslave them, but theymust be merciful to their enemies in defeat, even to those who but amoment before were at their throats. For though we win the war, if we atthe same time forget what we have fought for, then we have indeed lostall. I proclaim to all China, and to her enemies both within and withoutour borders, that the faith of Buddha has returned, and thatinterference in China's affairs by any other nation will not betolerated."

  Colonel Faulkner had landed at the Hankow airport and now, with hiscrew, shared our private banquet on the terrace of the city's largesthotel, only a few hundred feet from where Kazu squatted. Under cover ofthe cheering and speechmaking, he relayed to us some news which he hadheard on the radi
o, which was not quite so rosy.

  It seemed, first, that the Chinese III Army, under General Wu, haddeclared itself for Buddha, and was engaged in a pitched battle with theManchurian First Army north of Tientsin. The communist garrison atShanghai, where there was a large population of Russian "colonists", hadholed in, awaiting attack by a Buddhist Peoples Army assembled fromrevolting elements of the II and VII Corps at Nanking. A revolt atCanton, far to the south, had been put down by the communists with theaid of air support coming directly from Russia. The most ominous note,however, was a veiled threat by old Mao himself that if mutinouselements did not submit, he might call upon his great ally to the eastto use the atomic bomb. Mao spoke apparently from near Peking, where hewas assembling the I and V Armies.

  We digested this news while Kazu finished the last of his 1000 sheep. Weall cast anxious glances into the sky. Soviet planes at Canton meantthat they could be here also, and Buddha, squatting in a glare of lightin the midst of Hankow, was a sitting duck for a bombing attack.

  As soon as the main part of the formalities were over, Baker managed toget Kazu's attention, and informed him of the situation. Kazu's reactionwas immediate and to the point.

  "We do not await attack. We go north to free our brothers, and toinstruct our errant General Mao in Buddha's truth."

  By the time we were packed and in our travelling box, the time waseight-thirty. Reference to our map showed the airline distance fromHankow to Peking to be about 630 miles, and Buddha, greatly refreshed bythe food and rest, promised to reach the capital by eleven.

  To make walking easier, Baker plotted a route which avoided thelowlands, particularly the valley of the Yellow River, in favor of aslightly longer course through the mountains to the east. We startednorthwest, splashing through the swamps and lakes around Hankow atfirst, and presently reached firmer ground in the Hawiyang Shan. Wefollowed the ridge of these mountains for a time, and then dropped tothe hilly country of Honan Province. At first the night was very dark,but presently the light of a waning moon made an occasional fixpossible, although navigation was confusing and uncertain at best.

  We splashed across the Yellow River at ten o'clock, somewhere east ofKaifeng, and for a time were greatly slowed by what appeared to be thickgumbo.

  Our speed improved once we got up into the rugged Taihang Mountains.Here also we felt safer from air observation or attack, although Kazuwas soon panting from the exertion of crossing an endless succession offifteen to thirty foot ridges. This was indeed rough country, terrainwhich had protected the lush plains of China for centuries against theMongols. Here the great wall had been built, and presently, in themoonlight, we saw its trace, winding serpentlike over the mountains.

  We followed the Wall for almost two hundred miles--all the way, in fact,to the latitude of Peking--before we swung east again for the final lapto Mao's capital.

  * * * * *

  During the last hour we trailed an antenna and listened in on the worldof radio. The news was not good. The Shanghai garrison had sprung a trapon their disorganized attackers, and were marching on Nanking. Mao'sarmies were closing the southern half of a great pincers on Wu's troops,and only awaited the dawn to launch the final assault. Worst of all,there had been reports of increasing Soviet air activity over the area;a major air strike also apparently would come with daylight.

  We were scarcely halfway from the edge of the city to the moated summerpalace when a small hell of gunfire broke out around Kazu's feet. Hejumped, with a roar of pain, and then lashed out with one foot, sweepingaway a whole city block and demolishing the ambush. Limping slightly, hemade the remaining distance by a less direct route and at last stood atthe moat before the palace. The ancient building, and, indeed,everything about, was quite dark. Kazu peered about uncertainly, andthen raised our box to ask for advice. Baker was pessimistic.

  "I don't think you'll find General Mao here. But at this stage ofthings, I don't believe it would matter if you did. The decision will bemade tomorrow by the armies."

  Kazu stepped carefully over the moat and wall, and sat down wearily inthe gardens of the summer palace. We peered with interest at thefoliage, marble bridges and the graceful buildings, illuminated only byghostly moonlight. With Kazu squatting among them, they looked likemodels, a toy village out of ancient China. I wished that a picturemight be taken, for surely never before had Buddha been in soappropriate a setting.

  While Kazu rested, we examined his feet. A number of machine gun bulletshad entered his foot thick hide, and there was one wound a yard longfrom which oozed a sticky gelatinous blood. There did not appear to beany serious damage, although the chances of infection worried us. In anyevent, there was nothing we could do except douse it with buckets ofwater from the moat. Kazu thanked us formally, as befitted a deity, andadded, as though talking to himself,

  "Now is the most difficult time. How can I bring peace without the useof violence? I can appear before these armies and command them to stop.But what if they do not obey? Should I use force? Oh, that I were reallythe Great Lord Buddha--then I would have the wisdom, the knowledge thatis a thousand times more potent than giant size. Oh Buddha, grant mewisdom, if only for a moment, that I may act rightly."

  Presently the giant stretched out full length in the garden and, whilewe kept guard, slept for a time.

  The first pale glow of dawn appeared soon after five, and we werepreparing to awaken Kazu when Martin held up a warning hand. Welistened. At first we heard nothing, and then there came a deep drone ofjets. Not a single plane, not even a squadron. Nothing less than a greatfleet of heavy aircraft was approaching Peking from the west. Bakerfired his automatic repeatedly near Kazu's ear, and presently his rumblybreathing changed and he opened his eyes.

  "Planes," said Baker briefly. "It's not safe here. Better get moving."

  Kazu sat up, yawning, and we climbed into the box. The giant took a longdraught from the nearest fishpond and tied our cage to his neck andshoulder so that both of his hands would be free.

  By this time the noise of the planes had increased to a roar, whichechoed through the silent city. Kazu arose to his full height andwaited. A pinkish line of light had now appeared along the easternhorizon which, I realized with consternation, must silhouette the mightytower of Kazu's body to whomever was coming out of the western shadows.

  * * * * *

  And then we saw them. A great fleet of heavy bombers, flyinghigh, far beyond even Kazu's reach. Baker seized the glasses to look,and then gave a cry of warning. The leading plane had droppedsomething--a black spherical object above which blossomed a parachute. Ithink that Kazu realized what it was as soon as we, but he still stoodquietly. Baker lost whatever calm he had left and screamed, "Run,run--it's the H-bomb!" but still Kazu did not move. In a moment anotherof the deadly spheres appeared, directly over us, and then a third. Nowat last Kazu moved, but not toward safety. He walked slowly until he wasdirectly beneath the first bomb, and reached up, until his hand was athousand feet in the air. Down came the bomb, quite rapidly, for theparachute was not very large.

  "What's the matter with the fool," yelled Martin. But now Baker seemedto get Kazu's idea.

  "It has barometric fusing--it's set to detonate at a certain altitude.If that's below a thousand feet, and Kazu can catch it, it won't gooff!"

  Martin started something about detonation at two thousand feet, whenKazu gave a slight jump and his hand closed about the deadly thing, asthough he had caught a fly. We cowered, expecting the flash that wouldmean the end, but nothing happened. In Kazu's crushing grip the firingmechanism was reduced to wreckage before it could act. When Buddhaopened his palm, it contained only a wad of crumpled metal inside ofwhich was a now harmless sphere of plutonium.

  In quick succession Kazu repeated this performance with the other twobombs, wadded the whole together and flung it to the ground. Then heturned to the north.

  By the time we had cleared the city, it was quite light, and we couldse
e a dark pall of smoke in the northeast. The armies which had beenpoised last night had finally met, and a great battle was underway. Kazuhurried towards it, and presently we could hear the crackle of smallarms fire and the heavier explosions of mortars and rockets. It took amoment or so for Kazu to get his bearings. Evidently we were approachingMao's legions from the rear. Still keeping from the roads to avoidkilling anyone, Kazu advanced to near the battle line, and therestopped.

  "My brothers," his voice thundered above the heaviest cannon, "my poorbrothers on both sides, listen to me. Stop this killing. Stop thisuseless slaughter. No one can win, and all will--"

  Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light, a thousand times brighterthan the newly appeared sun. It came from behind us, and in the terribleinstant that it remained we could see Buddha's enormous shadowstretching out across the battlefield. Kazu stopped speaking and bracedhis shoulders for the blast. Subconsciously I was counting seconds.Four, five, six, seven--A sudden, insane hope gripped me. If we were farenough from the burst--and then the blast hit us, and with it, thesound. Kazu pitched forward a hundred yards, and stumbled on as faragain. Then he recovered. One hand reached behind him, to the back thathad taken the full brunt of heat and gamma radiation, and a half animalcry escaped from his lips. Over his shoulder we got a glimpse of thefireball, of the fountain of color which would presently form theterrible mushroom cloud. The thunder of the explosion reverberated, andwas replaced by silence. The crackle of rifles, the thud of field pieceshad ceased. From our perch we looked down at a scene straight fromDante's Inferno. About Kazu's feet was a shallow ravine in which athousand or so communist troops had taken cover. These were nowscrambling and clawing at the sides like ants trying to get away.Vehicles were abandoned, rifles thrown away. A few had been burned, butit seemed that for the most part the soldiers had been sheltered fromdirect radiation by the wall of their canyon, and by Kazu's greatshadow.

  For an eternity, it seemed, Kazu stood there, swaying slightly, one handstill pressed against his back, while the little men writhed about hisankles. Then, quite slowly, he raised one foot. I thought that he wasgoing to walk away, but instead, the foot moved deliberately until itwas directly over the ravine, and then, like a tremendous pile driver,it descended. A faint and hideous screaming came up to us, whichabruptly ended. The foot came up, and again descended, turning back andforth in the yielding earth. Slowly Kazu brought his hand up, and liftedour box so that he could look at us. As he did so, I saw that half ofhis hand was the color of charcoal, and I smelled a horrible odor oftons of burnt flesh. Now at last he spoke, in a voice that we couldscarcely understand.

  "Guide me," he said, "Guide me, Baker. Guide me to Moscow!"