Flaming Zeppelins (16 page)

They went into the tunnel, flipped the switch for light, latched the door back in place, rushed along the corridor.

At this same moment, Doctor Momo, the quick-scooting Ned, and Jack — who was carrying Cody's babbling, smoking head on a platter as if it were that of John the Baptist about to be presented to the wife of Herod — were proceeding back to the living quarters of the compound.

The explorers had no sooner pulled the rug in place, eased out of Doctor Momo's door and locked it, than they heard Cody running on about this and that, reciting some tall windy he had told them all twenty times before, but in a manner that indicated he was out of his head. Which, considering the circumstances, wasn't something he could spare.

Hickok and his crew hustled quickly down the hall, just out of sight as Doctor Momo, Jack and Cody turned the corner.

They all ducked into Bull's room, quietly locked the door.

Cat said, “I can only stay a moment. It is time for me to bring the doctor his tea. He gets upset if I do not bring it on time. But, I want to leave this key with you. Bull has one. You must be very careful.”

“Thanks,” Annie said.

They eased the door open. Cat glanced down the hall. “I must go,” she said. She kissed Bull quickly and made her exit, leaving in the room the faint smell of musk.

Bull made a horse whinny under his breath.

Doctor Momo stopped off in his room for a drink. He placed Cody's head on the table while he sipped whiskey. This time he did not offer Cody a drink. He stared down at the Westerner, shook the colored liquid in his glass.

Cody's hair was dripping sweat. His skin was less pink now, but it had a kind of glow to it. Cody felt great. He could feel himself changing.

The twisting knot on his neck had expanded, producing a large segment of shoulder. Underneath the shoulder, tendons were visible, and there was a spot of bone; blood dripped onto the metal tray, filled it.

Cody was about to ask for a taste of whiskey, when Doctor Momo spoke. “Drain that tray, will you, Jack?”

Jack bent over, began lapping blood from the tray.

“Good boy,” Doctor Momo said. Then: “Colonel Cody, we have come to what I must call the moment of truth. Before this day ends you will have a shoulder, and perhaps a complete arm. A little luck, a hand and fingers. No more. There is hardly enough flesh and elixir left to provide more for you. I can brew up a bit of the beasts around here, make you part of them. But the ideal situation is a volunteer.”

“Volunteer?” Cody asked.

“One of your mates. You need human flesh. I have offered up some of my own. And, might I add, without any selfishness. But, to do this right, to give you a complete body, and for it to be entirely human, we need a subject.”

“You mean a flesh donor?” Cody asked.

“Of course. There's one little problem. I would really like to have someone not only donate a bit of flesh, but, in fact, donate their entire self.”

“You mean kill one of them?”

“I dislike that word. Kill. It brings all sorts of nasty things to mind. Sacrifice is not a good word either. I suppose we could ask their permission, but, I am afraid, no matter how well they hold you in high esteem, donating their body to you might not be what they had in mind.”

“I can understand a hold up on that,” Cody said.

“But we are in a position, if we choose, to pick someone. We invite them to a special meeting, promise them something. Then we clip that sonofabitch in the head, and into the mixture they go.”

“My God, Momo. I couldn't do that. They're my friends.”

“Hey, your choice,” Doctor Momo said. “You can be a head, a shoulder, an arm, and maybe a hand. But I wouldn't bet on much else. Or, we can choose one of the monkeys. You will most likely turn out a little hairy and have a craving for bananas and a desire to throw shit. I tell you what. I am going to have you taken to your room. Ned here will be left to serve you, and you may consider our discussion. But tomorrow, I would like an answer. I would like to pop someone before breakfast. Because, you see, Colonel Cody. I have other plans. I would like to do more with this flesh than reanimate you. I can build all manner of things from humans and animals. I can make you your very own Catherine. Would you like that? I can give you a body. A woman. If you go along with me, not only will you have your body back, but you and I can return to civilization, touting my work, and the both of us will become not only wealthy, but famous. I see myself as taking to cowboy hats, actually.”

“I am already famous. And I am sometimes wealthy. When I don't waste it.”

“Of course,” Doctor Momo said. “I understand. And I am asking you to do a dreadful thing, no doubt. But, you either want your body back, or you do not. It really is that simple.”

“My God,” Cody said. “Think what you are asking. Civilization will not be glad to know we murdered humans for their flesh. And I won't be glad of it either.”

“We do not have to tell the exact truth. Accidents happen. People die. There are ways around it. But, do not give me your answer immediately. To your room to rest. And to wait and see what my little experiment does. You may find yourself quite happy with the results. Jack. That is quite enough. Quit licking. The tray is shiny.”

There was a light knock on the door.

“Ah,” Doctor Momo said. “That will be Cat with my tea. Jack, will you see Colonel Cody to his room. And Ned, watch after him. And Colonel, give some real thought to picking out one of your little friends. If you do not pick one, I will pick one. And later, I will pick another. And when they are all gone — though I may keep Miss Oakley around for other reasons — Captain Bemo will bring me more. It will happen one way or another. The difference is, if I pick, you do not profit. In fact, I am sure you have considered this, but your head is flesh. And I don't believe in waste. A few slices, and you would fit nicely into the mixing bowl. Give it some thought, will you?” As the day settled, well before dinner, Annie and Hickok decided to take a flyer. They crept out of Bull's room with the key Cat had provided, moved along the corridor and tapped slightly on the door Cat said was Tin's room.

Tin opened the door, shocked to see them.

“We are friends of the monster,” Hickok said.

“Bert,” Tin said.

“Bert?” Hickok said.

Tin stuck his head out, looked in both directions, hustled them inside.

Bert lay on the bed nude. He was not the least bit embarrassed. Annie took him in with one quick look, then glanced away.

Then she glanced back.

Then away.

Then back.

And away.

“For heaven's sake, cover yourself,” Hickok said.

“Heaven,” Bert said, “has not been all that kind to me. I see no need to do anything for heaven's sake. Has your lady not seen a naked man before?”

“Do not tempt fate,” Hickok said.

“I thought you were friends?” Tin said.

“I suppose we are,” Bert said. “He and his friends saved me from being ground to powder. They carried me away and later found me here on the beach. They saved me again. I suppose I at least owe the lady some respect.”

Bert rose from the bed, snatched the sheet off and wrapped himself in it. “You may look now, lady, and forgive my manners. I have become quite the card as of late.”

“Tin,” said Hickok. “Will you help us?”

Tin said, “Help you? I should turn you in.”

“But will you help us?” Annie asked.

Tin looked a question at Bert.

Bert said, “We could listen.”

Hickok explained simply that they wanted to leave the island, that the best method might be by Bemo's submarine.

Tin said, “I will help you. I love Bert. I want to be with him.”

“And I with you, Tin,” Bert said.

“That is so sweet,” Annie said.

“The problem we have,” Hickok said, “is we have no weapons. We don't know how to navigate the
Naughty Lass,
and Bemo, who of course does know how, can't help us. He's controlled by Momo. What do we do?”

“Ned,” Tin said. “He can operate the
Naughty Lass,
”

“
That's what we heard,” Hickok said.

“I don't see why we don't just grab Momo and make him do what we want,” Annie said.

“Because the monkey men protect him,” Tin said. “They would tear you to shreds.”

“We could threaten to kill Momo if they bother us,” Annie said.

“They would still tear you to shreds,” Tin said. “You might kill Momo, but they would kill you…oh, goodness gracious. How can I talk like this? Doctor Momo has been good to me.”

“He has also lied to you,” Bert said. “That heart business, remember.”

“I remember. I am just so confused.”

“We get out of this,” Bert said, “we can go somewhere where we will not be bothered. Somewhere where we can live a life together.”

“And where would that be?” Tin said.

“Maybe Annie and I can come up with something,” Hickok heard himself say, and was amazed at the sound of his own voice. Just what was he thinking? He and Annie, a Tin Man and a monster who were sissy on each other.

“Another thing about the monkey men,” Tin said. “You will not even get close to Doctor Momo. They seem to be out of sight a lot of the time, but they are near. They wait until he commands, or for that matter, looks in distress. When we eat dinner, behind the wall, to the right of Momo's seat. That wall is transparent from the opposite side. A kind of mirror. Monkey men wait there.”

“Can we get guns?” Hickok asked.

“There are guns,” Tin said. “I had not thought of that. We can get guns, but it will not be easy. There is a storehouse for such things. It is for the monkey men. Mostly it houses weapons they do not know how to use. Weapons the men who worked for Momo left. He sent them all away when he created the monkey men. He wanted complete obedience. The monkeys are less scheming than men.”

“What about this storehouse?” Hickok asked.

“Guarded by the monkey men. But I can get in.”

“Do you think Ned will operate the
Naughty Lass?
” Annie asked.

“He loves your Buffalo Bill Cody,” Tin said. “I think he might. But then again, only if Cody wants to leave.”

“And why would he not?” Hickok said.

“The body,” Annie said. “You know that.”

“And I know when the chips are down, Cody does the right thing.”

While Ned sat in a chair in the corner, curled up with a dime novel Buntline had written, titled,
Buffalo Bill Battles the Steam Dogs of the Prairie,
Cody lifted his new shoulder, flexed his arm, closed his hand and wiggled the two fingers and thumb he now had. It felt good, looked like his old arm, only stronger; in fact, he felt so vibrant he thought he might somehow be intoxicated from the chemicals used in the operation.

He was trying to consider who to offer Doctor Momo. Annie was out. She was just too sweet.

And Hickok. They had been friends a long time. He did not really want to have him boiled up and made into goo.

Bull. Bull was also a friend. But he was an Indian. Cody considered that he had certainly killed a lot of Indians in his time. Maybe one more wouldn't matter. Maybe that was the way to go. Just add to the record. On some level, Bull would understand that. He was a practical man.

Then again, would Indian flesh work with his flesh? Did that matter?

Cody let that run through his head for a while.

Bull became his favorite candidate.

In his coffin in the jungle, under three feet of dirt and leaf mold, Vlad Tepes, Dracul, could not sleep.

He hated that kind of thing. You needed to sleep. Wanted to sleep, and just could not.

It was terrible.

He had only recently started to have trouble.

Used to be, he lay down, his head hit the cushion in the coffin, and he was out like a dead man.

Oh, that was good. Dead man. He wished he had someone to share stuff like that with.

But…that was out.

Instead he was here with these creatures. They were not even proper men. They were made from this and made from that, and if the boar man he had tasted was any indication, they were a lot like the British. Bland. He had always preferred ethnics while in Britain. An Indian. A Chinese. They had some taste.

Their taste caused him to consider Asia in the first place.

Oh, the Americans had been all right, in spite of the smell. But they gave him indigestion.

Sometimes, no matter what you did, you just could not win.

Dracul closed his eyes and counted backwards from a thousand.

…eight hundred and seventy-one… Oh, this is not working. Not in any kind of way is it working. Eight hundred and seventy. Eight hundred and sixty-nine…

When he got to seven hundred and seventy-nine he lost count because he fell asleep.

The sun slowly sank toward the ocean. It was so red it appeared to be heated. The beast men gathered at the edge of the woods to watch it go down.

It made them nervous.

They knew they had to dig up their master when it was low down and the dark was high.

They knew they had to do that, and they would, but they feared doing it, and it was not just because Vlad Tepes, Dracul was ill tempered. It was something else. Something they sensed and could not explain.

The Lion Man said, “I know. Why don't we just dig him up now and eat him.”

This was considered, and agreed to be a good idea.

Vlad heard the ground being scraped away.

He sent out a telepathic message.
NOT YET, YOU FOOLS.

The digging stopped.

Then it resumed.

I SAID STOP.

A pause.

The digging started up again. Now Vlad could hear them scratching on the lid of the coffin.

Oh, boy, was he going to whip some ass if they pulled off that lid.