Flaming Zeppelins (11 page)

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Authors: Joe R. Lansdale

Tags: #Western, #Fantasy

BOOK: Flaming Zeppelins
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Eventually they came to the spot where Bull sat on a hunk of driftwood, and nearby the monster lay tangled in seaweed.

When the vehicle was stopped, Jack bounded over to the monster, sniffing the air. “He stinks. He stinks good.”

When Tin saw the monster lying there, he startled so much his body made a noise like teapots slamming together. “He is so big.”

“Yeah,” Hickok said. “He's a big one.”

“And he is made from the parts of other men?” Tin asked.

“That's the story,” Hickok said. “And I believe it. In a way, he's not living at all. He moves. He thinks. But he's not really living.”

“Neither am I,” said Tin.

Hickok rapidly changed the subject. “Let's load him up.”

They laid the monster on the flatbed, turned the vehicle around, started back. Bull joined Hickok and Annie on the bed with the monster.

They hadn't gone far when the creatures appeared.

They came out of the woods and stood in front of the vehicle, which Tin slowed to a stop just in time to keep from running over them. They didn't seem to realize that the vehicle could crush them. There were at least twenty of them, and shortly thereafter, twenty more. Their numbers kept increasing as they slipped from the woods to surround and crowd the vehicle.

They stood like men, wore rags of clothes, but were more animal in appearance than human. Theirs were the faces of hogs, dogs, goats, bears, cows, a lion, a wolf and even one reptilian face. Some of them seemed to be two or three animals blended.

Yet, their bodies were different from their animal sources. There was a greater intelligence about them, a deeper curiosity. They ran their hands over the vehicle, sniffed at it. Their hands sometimes had five fingers and a thumb, sometimes not.

Several of them climbed up on the wooden bed, sniffed at the prone body of the monster.

“We thought you were bringing us another man,” said the one who looked like a wolf. His yellow eyes were intense, and his lips dripped foam. “We have not had a new man among us in some time.”

Tin and Jack had gotten out of the truck. Jack was carrying a coiled whip in his hands. When the creatures saw it, they cowered instinctively.

“There is no man here,” Jack said. “Not like you, anyway.”

“Yes, this is another man,” Tin said. “He has been hurt. We are taking him to the doctor.”

“To the House of Discomfort?” asked the wolf.

“No, Sayer of the Law,” said Tin. “He is to be treated for wounds. He has done nothing wrong.”

“And who are these men?” asked Sayer of the Law. “Are they the creations of the Lord Father?”

“Yes,” Tin said quickly. “We are all the creations of the Lord Father Momo.”

The wolf creature, Sayer of the Law, moved closer to Tin, said, “If this is so, and if this man,” he gestured toward the unconscious monster, “is not of the Father, then who is he of? And if he is of other than the Father, then is the Father not the father of all?”

“He is,” Tin said. “But there are some things too complicated to explain. He is the father of this man, as he is your father. That is all you need to know.”

“Then if he is of the Father,” said the Sayer of the Law, “and he is being returned to the Father, then he has violated the law, and he should be punished in the House of Discomfort. Is that not the law?”

“Of course,” said Tin. “But first the Father will make him well, then he will punish him.”

The creatures were silent. They gathered in a semicircle, moved close to Tin and Jack.

“Say the law!” Jack bellowed, and cracked his whip. The creatures jumped back, snarling. Jack cracked it again. “Sayer of the Law,” he said. “Recite the law.”

With head bent, the Sayer began to recite:

“Not to go on all fours; that is the law. Are we not Men?

“Not to suck up drink; that is the law. Are we not Men?

“Not to eat meat or fish or anything French; that is the law. Are we not Men?

“Not to hump each others' legs, but to have better aim; that is the law. Are we not Men?

“Not to smell each others' butts; that is the law. Are we not Men?

“Not to lick our private parts; that is the law. Are we not Men?

“Not to chase, bite, beat, or molest other men; that is the law. Are we not Men?

“Not to dig in the Father's flower beds at night; that is the law. Are we not Men?

“Not to leave our piles to be stepped in; that is the law. Are we not Men?

“Not to claw the bark of trees or the faces of others; that is the law. Are we not Men?

The Sayer ceased quoting, said, “There might have been another verse in there, but if so I've forgotten it.”

“Close enough,” Tin said. “Now let's talk about who's who. Come on, now. Do it. You know what I'm after.”

There was a moment of shuffling. Finally the Sayer led off with the chant and the others followed:

“His is the House of Big Bad Pain.

“His is the hand that makes stuff.

“His is the hand that wounds stuff.

“His is the hand that heals stuff.

“His is the Great Swinging Hammer of Delight.

“The what?” Annie asked.

“You don't want to know,” Tin said.

“Now, go about your business of men,” Tin said. “And leave the business of other men, the Father's main men, to them. It is not yours to wonder why, it is yours to do as the Father says. And if you do not…the House of Discomfort.”

Tension hung in the air thick as brick. Slowly, the animal-men moved away from the vehicle. Hickok thought he heard one of the creatures mumble something about, “I got your house of discomfort,” but he couldn't be sure.

Tin climbed inside the cab with Jack, and away they went. From the wooden bed, Hickok looked back at the throng of creatures. They had gathered in a knot on the rocky beach, staring after the vehicle's departure.

Suddenly, one of them lifted its head and howled.

Bull swung around on his knees, pulled down his pants, and gave the creatures a look at his bare ass.

“Same to you,” cried the Sayer of the Law, but by that time, the vehicle had turned out of sight around a projection of sand dune and jungle.

“Did you see the way they were looking at me?” Annie said.

“Yes,” Hickok said. “With no women creatures among them, I can see how they are disgruntled.”

Momo, with Tin and Jack in his laboratory, stood over the body of the monster. They had strapped it to a long table. Jack and Tin had used tweezers to pick maggots from the wounds, had scoured them out with water, then alcohol. When this was finished, Momo took a scalpel from the little sliding metal table at his side. He held it up, examined it, watched it wink in the light.

“Is he awake?” asked Momo.

Jack slapped the monster's face. The monster moaned slightly. Jack produced a pail of water, poured it over the creature's face. It shook its head, throwing beads of water like tossed pearls from its hair.

“Who are you?” it asked.

“We are some nice people who are going to give you back an arm and a foot,” Momo said. “But boy is it going to hurt.”

“Must he be awake?” Tin asked.

Momo looked at Tin, surprised. “Since when does it matter?”

“They need not always be awake,” Tin said. “You can make them sleep. You can make him sleep. He need not have to feel the pain.”

“That's true,” Momo said. “But what fun would there be in that?”

Momo turned, looked down at the monster and smiled. “I'm going to attach some little cells, some elements of monkey embryo, mix in some special chemicals. It will fasten itself to your arm and foot with a vengeance, dear monster. It will take twenty-four hours, and you will have a new arm and foot. To attach this little packet of goodness to you, I will need to cut you, and sew into you this magical gift. And it will hurt… Dear monster. Dear…thing… Welcome to the House of Discomfort.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Glad to have you.”

Outside, next to the House of Discomfort was a large garden. Hickok and Annie sat there with Bull, wondering about Cody, whom they had not seen since the day before, wondering what was going on in the building next to them.

The walls of the House of Discomfort were well designed. Inside the structure the monster's cries of pain were loud enough to shake the rafters. Outside, in the garden, the trio could not hear them at all.

That night, while dinner was served to the others, Tin sat in the House of Discomfort by the table where the monster slowly sprouted a new arm, grew a new foot. The monster lay naked, clean, and sweeter smelling now. Tin had anointed him with oil, had pushed his black hair back from his face and bound it there with a band of leather.

The monster opened its eyes.

“Who…who are you?”

“I am Tin.”

“You are beautiful. More beautiful than Hans Brinker.”

“Say what?” said Tin.

But the monster, exhausted from pain, had slipped back into sleep.

In the dining room, they took their previous positions at the table, Cody dead center. Jack stood by Momo, of course, and tonight, since Tin had been asked to take care of the monster, he was guardian to the creature and not present.

Since Hickok, Annie and Bull had gone on their little adventure, they had been watched much more closely. A monkey man with a pistol followed them around, stood near the table by Doctor Momo and Jack. Just the idea of a monkey man with a pistol made Hickok nervous. He felt he might be able to overpower the critter, but it was a long way from where he sat to where Momo and Jack and the monkey man were. He was one, they were three. Certainly Bull and Annie would join in to help him, but still, it was iffy. Hickok decided it was best to lay low until the right moment.

Cody looked very happy. He was in a new container of glass. There was no liquid. All of the wires had been removed, and at the base of the glass was a metal platform, and when Cody so chose, with the slightest use of the muscles in his face and neck, he could turn his head in any direction.

“How do you feel?” Annie asked Cody.

“It's not perfect,” Cody said. “A body would be perfect. But this sure beats the old setup. And see what Momo has done to my throat? No tube. I can speak in a voice that is almost my own. A little squeaky, but not bad.”

“Perhaps I can adjust that,” Momo said. “A tweak of the pliers. I might even be able to grow you new and better vocal cords.”

“Grow them?” Annie asked.

“Yes, in a dish. Of course, some monkey will lose an embryo, won't she, Jack?”

“Oh, he will, Doctor Momo, he will.”

“She will. Of course, we'll have to shop for a female monkey.”

“Yes sir, whatever you say.”

“You said before, all your creations were male. How come there are no females in your animals?” Hickok asked.

“There have been. Cat, of course.”

She appeared so human, Hickok had forgotten her.

“I find that when both sexes are available they become a bit too independent. I've tried it. Had to kill off the females. They sort of civilized things; gave the male creatures too many thoughts about themselves and their future. Wanting to raise children and the like. Civilization is much harder to rule than anarchy is to control. If you're the one in charge, that is. The great thing about anarchy is the most powerful is always in charge. I'm the most powerful. So, I rule. Of course, there are some wild female monkeys. I keep them about to re-create my crop, so to speak. And for experimental embryos.”

“You have the monkey men here,” Annie said, “but the others, why are they in the jungle?”

“Obvious,” Momo said. “They were not so successful. Very ugly, aren't they? I don't like looking at them. I raised them all from pups or kittens, or cubs, or whatever. I taught them to read and speak, and to think a little. Not too much, but a little. The creatures other than the monkeys and my chimp here,” he patted Jack, “were a little too independent. Even the dog creatures. Who would have figured that, huh? I think it was the women did that to them. I had to get rid of them. In the House of Discomfort. You know. Chop, chop.

“After that, well, the other animals weren't worth a flying shit in a snowstorm. Most of the monkey men I made later, after knowing better how to do it, and knowing not to use women. Women screw up everything.”

“Then why Cat?” Annie said.

“Well, women do have their benefits. Is that not right, Mr. Hickok?”

Annie sat silent, fuming. So did Hickok.

They eventually ate. From time to time a tube was attached to the platform that supported Cody's head, and the contents of his meal was drained into a bucket. This, in turn, well-chewed, was deposited on Momo's plate for his consumption.

“It's the teeth,” Momo said when he saw the astonishment on his guests' faces. “I'm good at repairing most anything, but I have the hardest time with myself. It's like they say about the blacksmith. His own horses go wanting shoes. The shoemaker's family goes wanting shoes. The doctor always has a canker. Or in my case, bad teeth. I really must take the time to do some work on them. Sensitive beyond reason, really. I'm attempting to discover how to grow myself an entirely new set.”

“What of the monster?” Hickok asked.

“Ah, yes,” Momo said. “Growing a new arm and a foot, right now as we speak. Tin's watching after him.”

“You can actually do that?” Annie said. “Grow an arm or foot…from nothing?”

“I wouldn't call it something from nothing. Let me give you an example.”

Momo stood up, unzipped his pants, produced his member, which he plopped on the table across his plate of pre-chewed food. The member was absolutely enormous and very dark in color, like an overripe banana.

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