The Lunatic's Curse (31 page)

Give the boy credit, he thought. Grammaticus knows his stuff.

And Tibor Velhildegildus knew that he was on a journey that no other living person had undertaken. In some ways that was more important even than jewels.

After a short distance, the lake floor began to drop. Tibor was concerned that the ovaloid might not be able to cope with the slope but he was soon reassured as to her stability and together, man
and machine, they made their steady progress into the depths. He looked out in wonder at the alien world through which he was now travelling. He marvelled to think that his eyes were the only eyes
ever to behold the creatures down here, creatures that none above even knew existed.

‘And they say nothing lives in the lake!’ he murmured.

How wrong they were, for it veritably teemed with life.

All manner of oddities swam past his windows: transparent fish, of sorts, with huge eyes and each possessed of an alien beauty. And the colours! Vibrant blues and greens and mauves (he was
reminded of his foulard which he had burned) and other hues he could not even name. For a second he actually believed there might be Paradise on earth.

The slope gradually levelled out so he tilted the blue beams downwards to scan the lake floor and then his heart somersaulted. The entire floor of the lake was covered in thousands, millions
perhaps, of glittering jewels of every colour and size: rubies, sapphires, emeralds and, yes, diamonds.

‘Oh my,’ he said over and over again. ‘Hooper was right. I am to be wealthy beyond my wildest dreams.’

The two arms at the front of his elegant craft reached out and began to gather in the jewels. As they raked through the sandy bottom, little sparkling clouds rose into the water, like stars in
the sky, then fell back down to the lake floor. The mechanical fingers scooped them up and dropped them into a net which allowed the sand to filter through, along with the smallest of the jewels,
but not the larger ones.

Tibor was aquiver with excitement. As he gathered the shimmering harvest, he was planning a glittering future. He would travel the world; he would never have to work again, never have to listen
to another idle wealthy woman’s trivial complaints (by all accounts a spell in the care of Chapelizod would sort most of
them
out. Whatever did happen to that fellow anyway?). And then
there was Acantha – or perhaps he should call her Meredith. What a wonderful woman. Introducing him again to the delights of the Society of Andrew Faye. He had not had enough of that over the
years! When they escaped all those years ago they had decided, despite their blossoming love, that for safety’s sake they should go their separate ways. And now, so much to catch up on.

He mused on. He would have no obligations, no ties. For that’s what money bought you: not material goods, but freedom. He thought back ten years to the night of his escape. Over a number
of weeks, using both his voice and his Lodestone, he had persuaded the then superintendent that he was perfectly sane. Unbelievably the foolish fellow had not only released Tibor (then Claude, of
course) but had taken him to his study where, still under the influence of the Lodestone, he had proudly shown him the entrance to the catacombs. His last words were, ‘I had it built as a
precaution in case the lunatics ever broke out.’

Free and in possession of the keys, Tibor had released Meredith and his cellmate Gerulphus, and they had made good their escape down to the rocky pier. It was only then that they realized that
there was no way the boat would hold the three of them. In those days Gerulphus really was immensely overweight.

Of course, I could probably have cured his appetites with the Lodestone Procedure if I’d had the time, thought Tibor, but it was not to be.

So he and Acantha had pushed off and left Gerulphus on the shore.

What a surprise it had been when he had met him again! He hadn’t recognized him at first, he was so thin, but then tonight in the torture chamber, when it really mattered, Gerulphus
didn’t let him down.
They both knew what was in that book.
But the diamonds would be reward enough. His debt was paid.

One more netful, Tibor decided, and then he would ascend. Tomorrow when the water subsided he would be off. I wonder if
Indagator
could cross the entire lake, he mused, but of course the
Re-breather wouldn’t last that long. Well, now that I know
Indagator
works, my future is secure.

He had it all planned. He was going to dismantle the machine and have it transported to Urbs Umida. In fact really he only needed the Re-breather, that was the most important part. He still had
the plans, he knew it could be built, and he had his haul of jewels. Either way, he was a winner.

And he had Acantha too. Just his sort of woman.

We share the same tastes, he thought, and laughed.

The atmosphere in the ovaloid was becoming a little stuffy, a sign, Rex had warned him, that the Re-breather was reaching its limit, but he knew he had another hour or so left, plenty of time to
get back to the surface. At that moment a large fish passed by the window and Tibor watched in amusement as it rubbed itself violently in the bejewelled sand on the lake floor. To his surprise he
saw that some of the jewels lodged in its scales.

‘Now wouldn’t you want to be the fisherman who hauled that in!’ he said to himself. On an impulse he extended the arms again and caught the fish. But the fish was not going to
give up without a fight and it struggled and flapped about so much that it managed to free itself. Then to Tibor’s amazement it started to charge at the window, hitting it repeatedly.
‘Bad-tempered little fellow,’ said Tibor. He withdrew the arms, swivelled his chair to face the other direction and readied himself to return to dry land.

It was only then that he saw the large dark shape moving through the water. At first he thought he had imagined it. It was just out of range of the lights. He leaned forward and peered into the
gloom. There was definitely something out there. It passed across the window again, nearer this time, and Tibor could see that it too had scaly glittering skin.

His heart stuttered when he saw the smaller fish swim towards it. The similarity was immediately obvious. There was no doubt in Tibor’s mind that these two were related. He began to feel
uneasy. The larger fish – much,
much
larger, he realized – was now only feet away from the craft and filled the entire window as it passed. It was not in any way attractive, with
its jutting-out jaw sporting long, furled tentacles, its grotesque jelly-like eyes, its ugly six-toed flippers, its black fins and the powerful tail. Even the jewels caught in its scales could not
make it any less repulsive.

‘It’s merely curious,’ said Tibor, trying to convince himself as it swam past again. And then, to his great relief, it changed direction and swam away into the darkness.
Quickly he initiated the walking sequence and
Indagator
took one step forward, but before it could make any more progress something hit the side of the craft with such force that he was
thrown violently sideways and cracked his head on the main lever.

Tibor swore softly, reeling from the shock. The vessel righted itself but there was another tremendous blow and he was thrown forward to hit his head on the window.

‘What on earth!’ he exclaimed.

He turned in his chair, his head throbbing and his vision blurred. He looked out of the window and saw to his utter horror the cause of the blows. ‘God’s blood and bones!’ he
shouted, and braced himself for the impact.

The monstrous fish, that grotesque manifestation, was attacking him.

Then everything began to happen at once. An alarm sounded. Tibor looked around wildly. ‘What now?’ he shouted. He saw a flashing red light. The Re-breather! It couldn’t be
– it should have an hour to go. His chest tightened. He was running out of air. In desperation he banged on the Re-breather. The front panel dislodged and something dropped out into his
hand.

It was a little brazen egg. On the side of it was scratched:

Tibor gasped for breath and in horror. This egg was his craft, his
Indagator
in miniature, complete with the ladder and the legs, the hatch and the windows. There was
something tucked under the hatch. Tibor pulled out a piece of paper, unfolded it and read:

‘He knew all along,’ whispered Tibor. ‘He
knew
.’

He saw the fish coming straight at him, its gaping maw as wide as a cave, and he saw its jagged teeth as the jaws closed around him and he was propelled down its throat into its belly. And
before the lights went out he saw in its bilious gut even more diamonds. He laughed like the maniac he was. He should have known.

It was all in the tea leaves.

45

Gerulphus sat in Tibor’s study with his feet on the desk and examined his polished boots. They were Tibor’s but he didn’t think he would be needing them now.
The Lodestone swung gently back and forth from his right hand. In front of him was the record book and beside that a large pile of gems: his own collection; a few from the underground shore, but
mainly prised from the creature’s scales.

Gerulphus thought about the last few weeks. He had enjoyed playing at caretaker. And what pleasure he’d got from feeding those vile warders to the big fish. He laughed softly. Patience is
a virtue, they say. Well no one could deny that he had been patient. Ten years he had lived down in that maze, since the night Dr Velhildegildus (or Claude Boughton as he was known then) and that
vile woman had rowed away, leaving him on the shore. He was too fat, they said; he would have sunk the boat. He was captured soon after, blindfolded and taken deep into the maze by the head warder,
a punishment for unruly lunatics. But Gerulphus had tasted freedom and he wasn’t going to give it up so easily. Turning on the warder he used his bulk to flatten the life out of him and took
his keys.

For the first time in his life, Gerulphus was thankful that he was fat. For it was on that very fat and flesh that he lived as he crawled systematically in the dark like a mole searching for the
way out. There was plenty to drink; if you dug in the sand you reached water very quickly. He always crawled downward, marking his pathways with piles of bones, certain that one day he would find
his way back to the door in the torture chamber. And he did.

By then he had grown used to underground life, enjoyed it even, so he took to popping in and out of the asylum for food, usually at night, when no one was looking. It amused him to think that he
was the cause of all the speculation about the ghost in the maze. They came looking for him sometimes but they never found him. He was well aware of the new superintendent, Cadmus Chapelizod, and
heard the screams from the torture chamber as he and his warders carried out their ‘cures’.

And then one day he found the blue chamber and the underground lake. He had seen the monstrous fish many times; it visited the underground lake almost every day. It was only recently it had
begun showing up with diamonds in its scales. To get near it he began to feed it: dead lunatics from the walls, then, when there was the breakout, he took great delight in throwing the cruel
warders into its jaws. They had come down to the maze to hide and he had caught them easily in the dark. He kept them in the cell near the lake. They deserved it, the way they had ill-treated the
lunatics.