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THE ISLAND OF DOCTOR DEATH
AND OTHER STORIES
Gene Wolfe

Winter comes to water as well as land, though there are
no leaves to fall. The waves that were a bright, hard blue
yesterday under a fading sky today are green, opaque,
and cold. If you are a boy not wanted in the house you
walk the beach for hours, feeling the winter that has come
in the night; sand blowing across your shoes, spray wet-
ting the legs of your corduroys. You turn your back to the
sea, and with the sharp end of a stick found half buried
write in the wet sand Tackman Babcock.
Then you go home, knowing that 'behind you the Atlan-
tic is destroying your work.
Home is 'the big house on Settlers Island, but Settlers
Island, so called, is not really an island and for that rea-
son is not named or accurately delineated on maps.
Smash a barnacle with a stone and you will see inside the
shape from which the beautiful barnacle goose takes its
name. There is a thin and flaccid organ which is the
goose's neck and the mollusc's siphon, and a shapeless
body with tiny wings. Settlers Island is like that.
The goose neck is a strip of land down which a county
road runs. By whim, the mapmakers usually exaggerate
the width of this and give no information to indicate that
it  is  scarcely  above the  high  tide.  Thus  Settlers  Island
appears to be a mere protuberance on the coast, not re"
quiring a nameand since the village of eight or ten
houses has none, nothing shows on the map but the spider
line of road terminating at the sea.
The village has no name, but home has two: a near and
a far designation. On the island, and on the mainland
nearby, it is called the Seaview place because in die ear-
liest years of the century it was operated 'as a resort hotel.
Mama calls it The House of 31 February; and that is
on her stationery and is presumably used by her friends
in New York and Philadelphia when they do not simply
say, "Mrs. Baboock's." Home is four floors high in some
places, less in others, and is completely surrounded by a
veranda; it was once painted yellow, but the paint
outsideis mostly gone now and The House of 31 Feb-
ruary is grey.
Jason comes out the front door with the little curly
hairs on his chin trembling in the wind .and his thumbs
hooked in the waistband of his Levi's. "Come on, you're
going into town with me. Your mother wants to rest."
"Hey tough!" Into Jason's Jaguar, feeling the leather
upholstery soft 'and smelly; you fall asleep.
Awake in town, bright lights flashing in the car win-
dows. Jason is gone and the car is growing cold; you wait
for what seems a long time, looking out at the shop win-
dows, the big gun on the hip of the policeman who walks
past, the lost dog who is afraid of everyone, even you
when you tap the glass and call to him.
Then Jason is back with packages to put behind the
seat. "Are we going home now?"
He nods without looking at you, arranging his bundles
so they won't topple over, fastening his seatbelt.
"I want to get out of 'the car."
He looks at you.
"I want to go in a store. Come on, Jason."
Jason sighs. "All right, the drugstore overthere, okay?
Just for a minuite."
The drugstore is as big as a supermarket, with long,
bright aisles of glassware and notions and paper goods.
Jason buys fluid for his lighter at the cigarette counter,
and you bring Um a book from a revolving wire rack.
"Please, Jason?"
He takes it from you and replaces it in the rack, then
when you are in .the oar again takes it from under his
jacket 'and gives it to you.
It is a wonderful book, thick and heavy, with the edges
of  the  pages  tinted  yellow.  The  covers  are  glossy  stiff
cardboard, and on the front is a picture of a man in rags
fighting a thing partly like an ape and partly like a man,
but much worse than either. The picture is in color, and
there is real blood on the ape-thing; the man is muscular
and handsome, with tawny hair lighter than Jason's and
no beard.
"You like that?"
You are out of town already, and without the street
lights it's too dark in the car, almost, to see the picture.
You nod.
Jason laughs. "That's camp. Did you know that?"
You shrug, riffling the pages under your thumb, think-
ing of reading, alone, in your room tonight!
"You going to tell your morn how nice I was to you?"
"Uh-huh, sure. You want me to?"
"Tomorrow, not tonight. I think she'll be asleep when
we get back. Don't you wake her up." Jason's voice says
he will be angry if you do.
"Okay."
"Don't come in her room."
"Okay."
The Jaguar says 'Hutntntaca . . ." down the road, and
you can see the whitecaps in the moonlight now, and the
driftwood pushed just off the asphalt.
"You got a nice, soft mommy, you know that? When I
climb on her it's just like being on a big pillow."
You nod, remembering the times when, lonely and
frightened by dreams, you have crawled into her bed and
snuggled against her soft warmthbut at the same time
angry, knowing Jason is somehow deriding you both.
Home is silent and dark, and you leave Jason as soon
as you can, bounding off down the hall and up the stairs
ahead of him, up a second, narrow, twisted flight to your
own room in the turret.
I had this story from a man who was breaking his
word in telling it. How much it has suffered in his
hands1 should say in his mouth, rather1 cannot
say. In essentials it is true, and I give it to you as it
was given to me. This is the story he told.
Captain Phillip Ransom had been adrift, alone, for
nine days when he saw the island. It was already late
evening when it appeared like a thin line of purple on
ithe borizon, but Ransom did not sleep that nil?ht
TheiB was no feeble questionmg m 'his wakeful mind
oonoerning the reality of what he had seen; 'he bad
been given that one glimpse 'and he taiew. Instead
his brain teemed with facts and speculations. He
knew he must be somewhere near New Guinea, and
he reviewed mentally what be knew of the currents
in thiese waters and what he had learned in the past
nine days of the behavior of his raft. The island
when he reached ithe did not 'allow himself to
ifwould in all probability be solid jungle a few
feet back from the water's edgp. There might or
might not be natives, but he brought to mind all he
could of the Bazaar Malay and Tagalog he had
acquired in his years as a pilot, plantation manager,
white hunter, 'and professional fighting man in the
Pacific.
In the morning he saw that purple shadow oo the
horizon again, a little nearer .this time and almost pre-
cisely where his mental calculations 'had told him to
expect it. For nine days there had 'been no reason to
employ the inadequate paddles .provided with the
raft, but now he had something to row for. Ransom
drank the last of his water and began stroking with a
steady and powerful beat which was not interrupted
BOtil the prow of 'his rubber craft ground into the
beach sand.
Morning. You are slowly awake. Your eyes feel gummy,
and the light over your bed is still on. Downstairs there is
no one, so you get a bowl and milk and puffed, sugary
cereal out for yourself and light the oven with a kitchen
match so that you can eat and read by its open door.
When the cereal is gone you drink the sweet milk and
crumbs in the bottom of the bowl and start a pot of coffee,
knowing that will please Mother. Jason comes down,
dressed but not wanting to talk; drinks coffee and makes
one piece of cinnamon toast in the oven. You listen to him
leave, the stretched buzzing of the car on the road, then
go up to Mother's room.
She is awake, her eyes open looking at the ceiling, but
you know she isn't ready to get up yet. Very politely, be-
cause that minimizes the chance of being shouted at, you
say, "How are you feeling this morning, Mama?"
She rolls her head to look. "Strung out. What time is it,
Tackie?"
You look at the little folding .clock on her dresser.
"Seventeen minutes after eight."
"Jason go?"
"Yes, just now. Mama."
She is looking at the ceiling again. "You go back down-
stairs now, Tackie.  I'll get you something when I feel
better."
Downstairs you put on your sheepskin coat and go out
on the veranda to look at the sea. There are gulls riding
the icy wind, and very far off something orange bobbing
in the waves, always closer.
A life raft. You run to the beach, jump up and down
and wave your cap. "Over here. Over here."
The man from the raft has no shirt but the cold doesn't
seem to bother him. He holds out his hand and says,
"Captain Ransom," and you take it and are suddenly
taller and older; not as tall as he is or as old as he is, but
taller and older than yourself. "Tackman Babcock, Cap-
tain."
"Pleased to meet you. You were a friend in need there a
minute ago."
"I guess I didn't do anything but welcome you ashore."
"The sound of your voice gave me something to steer
for while my eyes were too busy watching that surf. Now
you can tell me where I've landed and who you are."
You are walking back up to the house now, and you ex-
plain to Ransom about you and Mother, and how she
doesn't want to enroll you in the school here because she
is trying to get you into the private school your father
went to onoe. And after a time there is nothing more to
say, and you show Ransom one of the empty rooms on the
third floor where he can rest and do whatever he wants.
Then you go back to your own room to read.
"Do you mean that you made these monsters?"
"Made them?" Dr. Death leaned forward, a cruel
smile playing about his lips. "Did God make Eve,
Captain, when he took her from Adam's rib? Or did
Adam make the bone and God alter it to become
what he wished? Look at it this way, Captain. I am
God and Nature is Adam."
Ransom looked at the thing who grasped his right
arm with hands that might have eiroled a utility
pole as easily. "Do you mean that this thing is an
animal?"
"Not an animal," the monster said, wrenching his
arm cruelly. "Man."
Dr. Death's smile broadened. "Yes, Captain, man.
The question is, what are you? When I'm finished
with you we'll see. Dulling your mind will be less
of a problem than upgrading these poor brutes; but
what about increasing the efficacy of your sense of
- .smell? Not to mention rendering it impossible for
you to walk erect."
"Not to walk all-four-on-ground," the beast-man
holding Ransom muttered, "that is the law."
Dr. Death turned and called to the shambling
hunchback Ransom had seen earlier, "Golo, see to
it that Captain Ransom is  securely put away; then
prepare the surgery."
A car. Not Jason's noisy Jaguar, but a quiet, large-
sounding oar. By heaving up the narrow, tight little win-
dow at the corner of the turret and sticking your head out
into the cold wind you can see it: Dr. Black's big one,
with the roof and hood all shiny with new wax.
Downstairs Dr. Black is hanging up an overcoat with a
collar of fur, and you smell the old cigar smoke in his
clothing before you see him; then Aunt May and Aunt
Julie are there to keep you occupied so that he won't be
reminded too vividly that marrying Mama means getting
you as well. They talk to you: "How have you been,
Tackie? What do you find to do out here all day?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? Don't you ever go looking for shells on the
beach?"
"I guess so."
"You're a handsome boy, do you know that?" Aunt
May touches your nose with a scarlet-tipped finger and
holds it there.
Aunt May is Mother's sister, but older and not as
pretty. Aunt Julie is Papa's sister, a tall lady with a pulled-
out, unhappy face, and makes you thinJk: of him even
when you know she only wants Mama to get married
again so Papa won't have to send her any more money.
Mama herself is downstairs now in a clean new dress
with long sleeves. She laughs at Dr. Black's jokes and
holds onto his arm, and you think how nice her hair looks
and that you will tell her so when you are alone. Dr.
Black says, "How about it, Barbara, are you ready for the
party?" and Mother, "Heavens no. You know what this
place is likeyesterday I spent all day cleaning and today
you can't even see what I did. But Julie and May will
help me."
Dr. Black laughs. "After lunch."
You get into his big car with the others and go to a
restaurant on Uhe edge of a cliff, with a picture window
to see the ocean. Dr. Black orders a sandwich for you
that has turkey 'and bacon and .three pieces of bread, but
you are finished 'before the grown-ups have started, and
when you try to talk to Mother, Aunt May sends you out
to where there is a railing with wire to fill in the spaces
like chicken wire only heavier, to look at the view.
It is really not much higher than the top window ait
home. Maybe a little higher. You put the toes of your
shoes in the wire and bend out with your stomach against
the rail to look down, but a grown-up pulls you down and
tells you not to do it, then goes away. You do it again,
and there are rocks ait tihe bottom which the waves wash
over in a neat way, covering them up and then pulling
back. Someone touches your elbow, 'but you pay no at-
tention for a minute, watching the waiter.
Then you get down, and the man standing 'beside you
is Dr. Death.
He has a white scarf and black leather gloves and his
hair is shiny black. His face is not tanned like Captain
Ransom's but white, and handsome in a different way like
the statue of a head that used to 'be in Papa's library when
you and Mother used to live in town with him, and you
think:  Mama would say after he was gone how good
looking he was. He smiles at you, but you are 'no older.
"Hi." What else can you say?
"Good afternoon, Mr. Baboock. I'm afraid I stertled
yon."
You shrug. "A little bit. I didn't expect you to be here,
I guess."
Dr. Death turns his back to the wind to light a cigarette
he 'takes from a gold case. It is longer even than a 101
and has a red tip, and a gold dragon on the paper.
"While you were looking down, I slipped from between
the pages of the excellent novel you have in your coat
pocket."
"I didn't know you could do that."
"Oh, yes. I'll be around from time to time."
"Captain Ransom is here already. He'll kill you."
Dr. Death smiles and shakes his head. "Hardly. You
see, Tackman, Ransom and I are a bit like wrestlers;
under various guises we put on our show again and again
lruit only under the spotlight." He flicks his cigarette
over tile rail and for a moment your eyes follow the bright
spark out and down and see it vanish in the water. When
you look back. Dr. Death is gone, and you are getting
cold. You go back into ithe restaurant and get a free mint
candy where the cash register is and then go to sit beside
Aunt May again in time to have coconut cream pie and
hot chocolate.
Aunt May drops out of the conversation long enough to
ask, "Who was that man you were talking to, Tackie?"
"A man."
In the car Mama sits close to Dr. Black, with Aunt
Julie on the other side of -her so she will have to, and
Aunt May 'sits way up on the 'edge of her seat with her
head in between theirs so they can all talk. It is grey and
cold outside; you think of how long it will be before you
are home again, and take .the book out.
Ransom heard them coming and flaittened him-
self against the wall beside the door of his cell.
There was no way out, he knew, save through that
iron portal.
For the past four hours be had been testing every
surface  of  the  room  for  a  possible  exit,  and
there was none. Floor, walls, and ceiling were of
oyolopean stone blocks; the -windowless door of
solid metal locked outside.
Nearer. He tensed every muscle and knotted his
fists.
Nearer. The shambling steps halted. There was
a rattle and the door swung back. Like a thunder-
bolt of purpose he dove through tile opening. A
hideous face loomed above him and he sent his
right fist crashing into it, knocking the lumbering
beast-man to his knees. Two hairy arms pinioned
him from behind, but he fought free and the mon-
ster reeled under his blows. The corridor stretched
ahead of him with a dim glow of daylight ait the
end and he sprinted for it. Thendarkness!
When he recovered consciousness he found him-
self already erect, Strapped to the wall of a brilliantly
lit room which seemed to share the characters of a
surgical theater and a chemical laboratory. Directly
before his eyes stood a bulky object which he knew
must be an operating table, and upon it, covered
with a sheet, lay the unmistakable form of a human
being.
He had hardly had time to comprehend the .situa-
tion when Dr. Death entered, no longer in the ele-
gant evening dress in which Ransom had beheld him
last, but wearing white surgical clothing. Behind him
limped the hideous Golo, carrying a tray of imple-
ments.
"Ah!" Seeing .that his prisoner was conscious, "Dr.
Death strolled across the room and raised a hand as
though to strike him in the face, buit, when Ranisom
did not flinch, dropped it, smiling. "My dear Cap-
tain! You are with us again, I see."
"I hoped for a minute there," Ransom said
levelly, "that I was away from you. Mind telling
me what got me?"
"A tlirown club, or so my slaves report. My ba-
boonman is quite good at it. But .aren't you going to
'ask abouit this charming little tableau I've staged for
you?"
"I wouldn't give you the pleasure."
"But you are curious," Dr. DealJi smiled his
crooked smile. "I shall not keep you in suspense.
Your own time. Captain, has not come yet; and be-
fore it does I am going to demonstrate my tedinique
to you. It is so seldom that I have a really apprecia-
tive audience." With a calculated gesture he whipped
away the sheet which had covered the prone form on
the operating table.
Ransom could scarcely believe his eyes. Before
him lay the unconscious body of a girl, a girl with
skin as white, as milk and hair like the sun seen
'through mist.
"You are interested now, I see," Dr. Death re-
marked drily, "and you consider her beautiful. Be-
lieve me, when I have completed my work you will
flee screaming if she so much as turns what will no
longer be a face toward you. This woman has been
my implacable enemy since I came to this island,
and the time has come for me to"he halted in
mid-sentence and looked at Ransom with an ex-
pression of mingled slyness and gloating"for me to
illustrate something of your own fate, shall we say."
While Dr. Death had been talking his deformed as-
sistant had prepared a hypodermic. Ransom watched
as the needle plunged into the girl's almost trans-
lucent flesh, and the liquid in the syringea fluid
which by its very color suggested the vile perversion
of  medical  techniqueentered  her  bloodstream.
Though still unconscious the girl sighed, and it
seemed to Ransom that a cloud passed over her
sleeping face as though she had already begun an
evil dream. Roughly the hideous Golo turned her on
her back and fastened in place straps of the same
kind as those that held Ransom himself pinned to
the wall.
"What are you reading, Tackie?" Aunt May asked.
"Nothing." He shut the book.
"Well, you shouldn't read in the car. It's bad for your
eyes."
Dr. Black looked back at them for a moment, then
asked Mama, "Have you gotten a costume for the little
fellow yet?"
"For Tackie?" Mama shook her head, making her beau-
tiful hair shine even in the dim 'light of ithe oar. "No, noth-
ing. It will be past his bedtime."
"Well, you'll have to let him see Uhe 'guests anyway,
Barbara; no boy should miss that."
And then the car was racing along the road out to
Settlers Island. And then you were home.
Ransom watched as ithe loathsome creature edged
toward him. Though not as large as some of the
others its great teeth looked formidable indeed, and
in one hand it grasped a heavy jungle knife with a
razor edge.
For a moment he thought it would molest 'the un-
conscious girl, but it circled 'around her to stand
before Ransom himself, never meeting his eyes.
Then, with a gesture as unexpected as it was
frightening, it bent 'suddenly to press its hideous face
against his pinioned right hand, and a great, shudder-
ing gasp ran through the creature's twisted body.
Ransom waited, tense.
Again that deep inhalation, seeming almost a sob.
Then the beast-man straightened up, looking into Ran-
som's face but avoiding his gaze. A thin, strangely
familiar whine came from the monster's throat.
"Quit me loose," Ransom ordered.
"Yes. This I came to. Yes, Master." The huge
head, wider than it was high, bobbed up and down.
Then the sharp blade of the machete bit into the
straps holding Ransom. As soon as he was free he
took the blade from 'the willing hand of <he beast-
man and freed the limbs of the girl on .the operating
table. She was light in his arm's, and for 'an instant he
stood looking down at her tranquil face.
"Come, Master." The beast-man pulled at his
sleeve. "Bruno knows a way out. Follow Bruno."
A hidden flight of steps led to a 'long and narrow
corridor, almost pitch dark. "No one use this way,"
the beast-man said in his harsh voice. "They not find
us here."
"Why did you free me?" Ransom asked.
There was a pause, then 'almost with an air of
shame the great, twisted form replied, "You smell
good. And Bruno does not like Dr. Death.'"
Ransom's conjectures were confirmed. Gently he
asked, "You were a dog before Dr. Death worked
on you, weren't you, Bruno?"
"Yes." "The beast-man's voice held a sort of pride.
"A St. Bernard. I have seen pictures'."
"Dr. Death should have known better than to em-
ploy his foul skills on such a noble animal," Ransom
reflected aloud. "Dogs are too shrewd 'in judging
character; but then the evil are always foolish in the
final analysis."
Unexpectedly the dog-man halted in front of him,
forcing Ransom to stop too. For a moment the mas-
sive head bent over the unconscious girl. Then there
was a barely audible growl. "You say, Master, that I
can judge. Then I tell you Bruno does not like this
female Dr. Death calls Talar of the Long Eyes."
You put the open book face-down on the pillow and
jump up, bugging yourself and skipping bare heels around
the room. Marvelous! Wonderful!
But no more reading tonight. Save it, save it. Turn the
light off, and in the delicious dark puit the book reverent-
ly away under the bed, pushing aside pieces of the Tinker
Toy sat and the box with the filling station game cards.
Tomorrow there will be more, and you can hardly wait
for tomorrow. You lie on your back, hands under head,
covers up to chin and when you close your eyes, you can
see it all: the island, with jungle trees swaying in the sea
wind; Dr. Death's castle lifting its big, cold greyness
against the hot sky.
The whole house is still, only the wind and the Atlantic
are out, the familiar sounds. Downstairs Mother is talking
to Aunt May and Aunt Julie and you fall asleep.
You are awake! Listen! Late, it's very late, a strange
time you have almost forgotten. Listen!
So quiet it hurts. Something. Something. Listen!
On the steps.
You get out of bed and find your flashlight. Not be-
cause you are brave, but because you cannot wait there
in the dark.
There is notliiiing in the narrow, cold little stairwell out-
side your door. Nothing in the big hallway of the second
floor. You shine your light quickly from end to end. Aunt
Julie is breathing through her nose, but there is nothing
frightening about that sound, you know what it is: only
Aunt Julie, asleep, breathing loud through her nose.
Nothing on the stairs coming up.
You go back to your room, 'turn off your flashlight, and
get inito bed. When you are almost sleeping there is the
scrabbling sound of hard claws on the floorboards and a
rough tongue touching your fingertips. "Don't be afraid,
Master, it is only Bruno." And you feel him, warm with
his own warm and smelling of his own smell, lying beside
your bed.
Then it is morning. The bedroom is cold, and there is
no one in it but yourself. You go into the bathroom where
there is a thing like a fan but with hot electric wires to
dress.
Downstairs Mother is up already with a cloth thing
tied over her hair, and so are Aunt May and Aunt Julie,
sitting at the table with coffee and milk and big slices of
fried ham. Aunt Julie says, "Hello, Tackie," and Mother
smiles at you. There is a plate out for you already and
you have ham and toast.
All day the three women are cleaning and putting up
decorationsred and gold paper masks Aunt Julie made
to hang on the wall, and funny lights that change color
and go aroundand you try to stay out of the way, and
bring in wood for a fire in the big fireplace that almost
never gets used. Jason comes, and Aunt May and Aunt
Julie don't like him, but he helps some and goes into town
in his car for things he forgot to buy before. He won't take
you, this time. The wind comes in around 'the window,
but they let you alone in your room and it's even quiet
up there because they're all downstairs.
Ransom looked at the enigmatic girl incredulously.
"You do not believe me," she said. It was a simple
statement of fact, without anger or accusation.
"You'll have to admit it's pretty hard to believe,"
he temporized. "A city older than civilization, buried
in the jungle here on this little island."
Talar said tonelessly, "When you were as he-"
she pointed ait the dog-man"is now, Lemuria was
queen of this sea. All that is gone, except my city. Is
not that enough to satisfy even Time?"
Bruno plucked at Ransom's sleeve. "Do not go,
Master!  Beast-men go sometimes, beast-men Dr.
Death does not want, few oome back. They are very
evil at that place."
"You see?" A slight smile played about Talar's
ripe lips. "Even your slave testifies for me. My city
exists."
"How far?" Ransom asked curtly.
"Perhaps half a day's travel through the jungle."
The girl paused, as though afraid to say more.
"What is it?" Ransom asked.
"You will lead us against Dr. Death? We wish to
cleanse this island which is our home."
"Sure. I don't like him any more than your people
do. Maybe less."
"Even if you do not like my people you will lead
them?"
"If they'll have me. But you're hiding something.
What is it?"
"You see me, and I might be a woman of your
own people. Is that not so?" They were moving
through the jungle again now, the dog-man reluctant-
ly acting as rear guard.
"Very few girls of my people are as beautiful as
you are, but otherwise yes."
"And for that reason I am high priestess to my
people, for in me the ancient blood runs pure and
sweet. But it is not so with all." Her voice, sunk to a
whisper. "When a tree is very old, and yet still lives,
sometimes the limbs are strangely twisted. Do you
understand?"
"Tackie? Tackie are you in there?"
"Uh-huh." You put the book inside your sweater.
"Well, come and open this door. Little boys ought not
to lock their doors. Don't you want to see the company?"
You open, and Aunt May's a gypsy with long hair that
isn't hers around her face and a mask that is only at her
eyes.
Downstairs cars are stopping m front of the hoase and
Mother is standing at the door dressed in Day-GIo robes
that open way down 'the front but cover her arms almost
to the ends of her fingers. She is talking to everyone as
they come in, and you see her eyes are bright and strange
the way they are sometimes when she dances by herself
and talks when no one is listening.
A woman with a fish for a head and a shiny, silver dress
is Aunt Julie. A doctor with a doctor's coat and listening
thing and a shiny thing on bis head to look through is Dr.
Black, 'and a soldier in a black uniform with a pirate thing
on his hat and a whip is Jason. The big table has a punch-
bowl and cakes and little sandwiches and hot bean dip.
You pull away when the gypsy is taUang to someone and
take some cakes and sit under the table watching legs.
There is music and some of the legs dance, and you
stay under there a long time.
Then a man's and a girl's legs dance close to the table
and there is suddenly a laughing face in front of you
Captain Ransom's. "What are you doing under there,
Tack? Come out and join the party." And you crawl out,
feeling very small instead of older, but older when you
stand up. Captain Ransom is dressed like a castaway in
a ragged shirt and pants torn off at the knees, but all clean
and starched. His love beads are seeds and sea shells,
and he has his arm around a girl with no clothes at all,
just jewelry.
"Tack, this is Talar of the Long Eyes."
You smile and bow and kiss her hand, and are nearly
as tall as she. All around people are dancing or talking,
.and no one seems to notice you. With Captain Ransom on
one side of Talar and you on the other you thread your
way through the room, avoiding the dancers and the little
groups of people with drinks. In the room you and Mother
use as a living room when there's no company,, two men
and two girls are making love with the television on, and
in the little room past that a girl .is sitting on the floor
with her back to the wall, and men are standing in the
comers. "Heilo," the girl says. "Hello to you all." She
is the first one to have noticed you, and you stop.
"Hello."
"I'm going to pretend you're real. Do you mind?"
"No." You look around for Ransom and Talar, but tihey
are gone and you dunk that they are probably in the
living room, kissing with 'the others.
"This is my tlhird trip. Not a good trip, but not a bad
trip. But I should have had a monitoryou know, some-
one to stay with me. Who are those men?"
The men in the comers stir, and you can hear the clink-
ing of their armor and see light glinting on it and you look
away. "I think they're from the City. They probably came
to watch out for Talar," and somehow you know ithat this
is the truth.
"Make them come out where I can see them."
Before you can answer, Dr. Death says, "I don't really
think you would want to," and you 'turn and find him
standing just behind you wearing full evening dress and
a cloak. He takes your arm. "Come on, Tackie, there's
something I think you should see." You follow him to
the back stairs and then up, and along the hall to the
door of Mother's room.
Mother is inside on the bed) and Dr. Black is standing
over her filling a hypodermic. As you watch, 'he pushes
up her sleeve so that all the other injection marks show
ugly and red on her arm, and all you can think of is
Dr. Death bending over Talar on the operating table. You
run downstairs looking for Ransom, but he is gone and
there is nobody at the party ait all except the real people
and, in the cold shadows of the back stoop, Dr. Death's
assistant Golo, who will not speak, but only stares at you
in the moonlight 'with pale eyes.
The next house down the beach belongs to a woman
you have seen sometimes cutting down the dry fall
remnant of her asparagus or 'hilling up her roses while
you played. You pound at her door and try to explain,
and after a while she calls the police.
. . . across the sky. The flames were 'licking at the
roof timbers now. Ransom made a megaphone of his
hands and shouted, "Give up! You'll all be burned to
death if you stay in .there!" but 'the only reply was a
shot and he was not certain they had heard him. The
Lemurian bowmen discharged another flight of arrows
ait the 'windows.
Talar 'grasped his arm: "Come back before they
kill you."
Numbly he retreated with her, stepping across the
massive body 'of the bull-man, which lay pierced by
twenty or more shafts.
You fold back the comer of a page and put the book
down. The waiting room is cold and bare, and although
sometimes the people hurrying through smile ait you, you
feel lonely. After a long time a big man with grey hair and
a woman in a blue uniform want to talk to you.
The woman's voice is friendly, but only the way teach-
ers' voices are sometimes. "I'll bet you're sleepy, Tackman.
Can you talk to us a little still before you go to bed?"
"Yes."
The grey-hailed man says, "Do you know who gave
your mother drugs?"
"I don't know. Dr. Black was going to do something to
her."
He waves that aside. "Not that. You know, medicine.
Your mother took a lot of medicine. Who gave it to her?
Jason?"
"I don't 'know."
The woman says, "Your mother is going to be well,
Tackman, but it will be a whiledo you understand?
For now you're going to have to live for a while in a big
house with some other boys."
"All right."
The man: "Amphetamines. Does that mean anything
to you? Did you ever hear t~at word?"
You shake your head.
The woman: "Dr. Black was only trying to help your
mother, Tackman. I know you don't understand, but she
used several medicines at once, mixed them, and that can
be very bad."
They go away and you pick up the book and riffle the
pages, but you do not read. At your elbow Dr. Death
says, "What's the matter, Tackie?" He smells of scorched
cloth and 'there is .a streak of blood across his forehead,
but he smiles and lights one of 'his cigarettes.
Yon bold up tihe book. "I don't want it to end. You'll
be billed at the end."
"And you don't want to lose me? That's touching."
"You will, won't you? You'll bum up in the fire and
Captain Ransom will go away and leave Talar."
Dr. Death smiles. "Buit if you atart the book again we'll
afl be back. Even Golo and the bull-man."
"Honest?"
"Certainly." He stands up and tousles your hair. "It's
i<he same with you, Tackie. You're too young to 'realize it
yet, but-it's the same with you."