Stalking the Unicorn: A Fable of Tonight

by Mike Resnick

  "All right,” said Mallory. “I'll take it.” He picked up the wand and examined it. “How do you make it work?"

  "The spells are included with the instructions."

  "Spells?"

  "There are certain key words that trigger various responses from the microchip in the handle,” explained the salesman. “The rest of it is just for dramatic effect."

  "And this will definitely work against any demon I run across?” asked Mallory.

  The salesman shook his head. “Only those below the Fifth Circle. What type of demon do you expect to be confronting?"

  "I don't know. But if it's any help, he's called the Grundy."

  "You want to kill the Grundy?" gasped the salesman.

  "Only if it's necessary."

  "Your name wouldn't be Mallory, would it?"

  "It would."

  The salesman grabbed the wand back. “Go away!"

  "You don't have anything that will help me?"

  "You're in the wrong place!” whimpered the salesman, crouching down and hiding behind the counter. “The only thing you need is a Bible."

  "The Grundy's affected by Bibles?"

  "No, but you might want to learn a quick prayer or two before he finds you."

  "What do I owe you for the gun?” asked Mallory.

  "One hundred seventy-five dollars."

  "All I have are hundreds,” said Mallory. “You're going to have to get up and make change."

  "Just put a hundred on the counter and leave!"

  Mallory, aware that everyone in the store was staring at him with expressions varying from shock to pity, picked up the pistol and the box of ammunition, put them in his pocket, and walked back into the street, where he found Mürgenstürm and Felina waiting for him.

  "What now, John Justin?"

  "Now we go to the museum.” Mallory paused. “I don't suppose they'll have a stuffed leprechaun?"

  "Certainly not!” said Mürgenstürm, morally outraged. “You might as well ask if they have a mounted elf on display!"

  It took them fifteen minutes, via elephant and subway, to reach the museum, a huge and ancient structure of stone and steps and spires.

  "The perfect example of Gothic Baptist architecture,” commented Mürgenstürm admiringly as they approached the main entrance.

  "I didn't know there were any examples of Gothic Baptist architecture,” replied Mallory.

  "There are here,” said Mürgenstürm, ascending the broad stairs. When he reached the top, he went to a small door about fifty feet to the right of the main entrance and knocked vigorously.

  "Hold your horses!” said a voice. “I'm coming!"

  A moment later the door opened and an elderly man, his white hair thinning and uncombed, stuck his head out. “Oh, it's you again,” he said when his eyes fell on the little green elf. “You know, Mürgenstürm, you've really got to do something about that libido of yours."

  "My feelings precisely,” echoed Mallory.

  The old man stared at him for a moment, then made a face and turned back to Mürgenstürm. “Your tastes are getting more degenerate by the hour,” he said.

  "You misunderstand the situation,” said Mürgenstürm.

  "If I do, it's not without cause,” said the old man.

  "John Justin, I want you to meet my friend Jebediah,” said the elf. “Jebediah, this is the world-famous detective, John Justin Mallory."

  Jebediah squinted at Mallory and nodded. “World-famous, eh? Well, come on in—but leave the cat behind."

  "You mean Felina?” asked Mürgenstürm.

  "You see any other cats?” asked Jebediah.

  "But she's not a cat. She's one of the cat-people."

  "Same thing,” said Jebediah with a shrug. “She'll upset the exhibits."

  "I thought this was a museum,” interjected Mallory.

  "It is."

  "Aren't the exhibits all dead?"

  "Of course."

  "Then how can she upset them?” persisted the detective.

  "Look,” said Jebediah. “It's cold and it's raining, and I've got no intention of standing here in the doorway answering stupid questions. If you want to come in, leave her outside."

  Mallory turned to Felina. “Wait here,” he instructed her. “We'll only be a few minutes."

  She made no reply, but merely squatted down on her haunches, staring at some fixed point in space that only she could see. In the dim light it seemed to Mallory that her pupils had expanded to entirely cover her irises. He reached out to give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, which she avoided without seeming to move, and finally he shrugged and followed Jebediah and Mürgenstürm into the interior of the museum.

  "Impressive, isn't it?” asked the elf.

  Mallory looked around the huge, marble-floored central hall. The arched ceiling was a good forty feet high, and a pair of reconstructed pterodactyls seemed to be hovering over him, suspended by nearly invisible support wires. Dominating the hall was the skeleton of an enormous tyrannosaur, its jaws filled with row upon row of long, jagged teeth.

  "Mean-looking son of a bitch,” he commented.

  "Didn't there used to be an elephant here?” asked Mürgenstürm, indicating the area where the dinosaur stood ready to pounce. “A big one, with huge tusks?"

  Jebediah nodded. “We've still got him, but he's with the rest of the African animals now. The taxi drivers started objecting to him, so we brought old Rex up here from the basement.” The old man paused to brush a piece of lint from his dark blue uniform. “Just as well. He was getting lonely down there; now at least he's got the birds to keep him company."

  "Birds?” repeated Mallory.

  "The pterodactyls,” explained Jebediah. He turned to Mürgenstürm. “Well, if you're not here for an affair of the heart, just what is it that you want?"

  "I need some information,” said Mallory.

  Jebediah sighed. “I didn't figure you were here just to keep a lonely old man company on New Year's Eve."

  "Well, that, too,” said Mürgenstürm quickly. “But mainly, we have to learn something about unicorns."

  "So they stole the unicorn from you, did they?” asked Jebediah, amused. “I knew they would."

  "That's none of your business!” snapped Mürgenstürm.

  Jebediah turned to Mallory. “I keep on telling him. ‘Mürgenstürm, you ugly little wart,’ I say, ‘you can't keep letting your gonads rule your mind. Mürgenstürm,’ I say, ‘this museum's filled with exhibits that became extinct because they never learned to control their baser passions. Mürgenstürm,’ I say, ‘I can understand an occasional roll in the hay, but you're the most compulsive little pipsqueak I've ever—’”

  "That will be quite enough, thank you!” snapped the elf.

  "He hired you to find it?” asked Jebediah, ignoring Mürgenstürm's furious gaze.

  Mallory nodded.

  "Well, Mr. Mallory, I can guarantee it's not here."

  "I'm sure it isn't,” said Mallory. “But I've never even seen a unicorn. Mürgenstürm tells me you've got one on display."

  Jebediah checked his wristwatch. “Can you be through in fifteen minutes?” he asked.

  "I don't see why not."

  "You're sure?” insisted Jebediah.

  "How the hell long can it take to look at a stuffed unicorn?"

  "Okay,” said Jebediah, heading off toward one of the dozen corridors that fed into the central hall. “Follow me."

  Mallory and Mürgenstürm entered the corridor.

  To the left was a diorama featuring a rhinoceros, three zebras, a pair of wildebeest, and a family of four giraffes at a savannah water hole. On the right was a leopard, poised to spring out of its tree onto an unsuspecting impala. The corridor continued for some forty yards and held at least a dozen more dioramas.

  Mallory turned back and studied the leopard for a moment. He could see its muscles bunched as it prepared to jump, almost rippling under its dead skin. Its eyes seemed to glow with awareness, and he half-e
xpected to see its tail twitch just before it launched its attack.

  "We have to hurry, Mr. Mallory,” said Jebediah, taking a few steps back in the detective's direction.

  Mallory immediately began walking again. “They're very lifelike,” he said when he had caught up with the old man.

  "That they are,” agreed Jebediah as they passed a gorilla family and skirted around the bull elephant that had been moved from the central hall.

  "How much farther?” asked Mürgenstürm, running on his short, stumpy legs to keep up with the two men.

  "Just past the bongo and the okapi,” replied Jebediah. “You look all worn out.” He grinned. “They say sex does that to the wind."

  "I haven't had any sex for hours,” panted Mürgenstürm. “Obviously, it's a lack of sex that does it."

  "Obviously,” said Mallory caustically.

  The corridor branched to the left, and a moment later, after passing some large antelope, they entered a small room that housed a trio of creatures in plain glass cases. To the right was a banshee, to the left a satyr complete with its musical pipe, and directly in front of them was a large white unicorn. Its prominent brown eyes looked straight ahead, the horn on its forehead reminded Mallory of a twisted candy stick, its body was sleeker than most herbivores, and its tail almost touched the ground. It wasn't exactly horselike—a zebra, or even the extinct quagga, resembled a horse far more—but he couldn't figure out what else to compare it with, for it resembled all other animals even less.

  He walked around the case, wondering why he was bothering, since, having seen a unicorn, he knew he could never mistake it for anything else.

  Finally he came to a placard that offered him some minimal information:

  NORTH AMERICAN UNICORN

  Unicorns occur on all continents and islands except Antarctica, though they are believed to be virtually extinct in Peru, Tibet, and the Italian Riviera.

  Unicorns are usually herbivorous, although they have been known to eat everything from small rodents to parking meters. They are primarily nocturnal, and tend to congregate at right angles to where you are looking at the moment.

  The North American Unicorn—unicornis n. americanus—differs from all other members of the unicorn family in that it lives in North America.

  This specimen was shot by Col. W. Carruthers during a safari to the interior of Sioux City, Iowa.

  "Seen enough?” asked Jebediah.

  "In a minute,” said Mallory, staring at the unicorn once again.

  "Make it quick."

  Mallory turned to Mürgenstürm. “Does Larkspur look like this?"

  The elf nodded. “They could be twins."

  "I need to know more about his habits,” said Mallory. “The placard wasn't very helpful."

  "Time's up,” announced Jebediah. “Let's go."

  "Gesundheit,” said Mürgenstürm.

  "I didn't sneeze,” said the old man.

  "Well, somebody did,” replied the elf.

  "Not me,” said Mallory.

  "I know what I heard,” said Mürgenstürm stubbornly. “Somebody went—"

  A guttural coughing sound came to their ears.

  "Just like that,” concluded the elf uneasily.

  "Damn!” snapped Jebediah. “I told you to hurry!"

  Suddenly Mallory could smell the acrid scent of animals.

  "What the hell's going on?” he demanded.

  "Shhhh!” whispered Jebediah, holding his finger to his lips.

  He waited for a moment, then nodded his head and stepped into the corridor through which they had come.

  "Quickly now!” whispered the old man.

  Mallory and Mürgenstürm fell into step behind him and they proceeded down the corridor, past the okapi and bongo displays.

  "Just a minute!” said Mallory, stopping short as they passed a diorama depicting two lions at a kill.

  "What is it?” asked Mürgenstürm, bumping into him.

  "I could swear one of those lions just looked up,” said the detective. He stared at it again, then shrugged. “Overactive imagination,” he announced at last.

  "Hurry!” whispered Jebediah urgently.

  Mallory began walking again, and soon came to the junction of corridors where the bull elephant stood. It was a huge animal, fully twelve feet at the shoulder, and its sudden appearance, with ears spread wide and trunk extended toward him, startled the detective for a moment. He quickly recovered his composure and walked around the elephant to where Jebediah was standing by the entrance to another corridor.

  "Hold on,” said Mallory after they had walked about twenty-five feet. “Where's Mürgenstürm?"

  "I thought he was right behind you,” said Jebediah.

  Mallory walked back to the end of the corridor.

  "Damn it, Mürgenstürm!” he said. “What the hell's keeping—” He choked off the last word of the sentence as he found himself staring into the bloodshot little eyes of the elephant, which stood facing him, ears spread, trunk extended.

  "Right here,” said Mürgenstürm, walking up to him. “I went into the wrong corridor.” The elf looked up at Mallory. “What's the matter, John Justin? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

  "He was facing the other direction not twenty seconds ago,” said Mallory, still looking at the elephant.

  "You must have gotten all turned around,” said Mürgenstürm. “Stuffed animals don't move."

  Suddenly they heard an ear-splitting roar that echoed through the empty, drafty corridors.

  "Do they roar?” asked Mallory.

  "Not to my knowledge,” said the elf uneasily.

  "Let's get the hell out of here,” said Mallory urgently, walking briskly to the spot where he had left Jebediah. There was no trace of the old man.

  "Maybe you're in the wrong corridor,” suggested Mürgenstürm.

  "This is where I left him,” said Mallory firmly.

  "Then maybe he moved."

  "We'll see,” said Mallory, retracing his steps.

  When they came to the elephant they gave it a wide berth and entered a new corridor just as a bird screeched behind them. They walked about fifty feet into it, then stopped.

  "He's not here,” said Mallory.

  "What do we do now?” asked Mürgenstürm nervously.

  "We go back the way we came."

  "I'm lost,” admitted the elf.

  "We'll go back to the elephant, and it'll be the second corridor on the left."

  "Wait!” exclaimed Mürgenstürm suddenly.

  "What is it?"

  "I think I heard him."

  "I didn't hear anything."

  "This way,” said the elf, continuing down the corridor. “Jebediah!” he yelled.

  There was no response.

  "You're wrong,” said Mallory.

  "Well, I heard something," said Mürgenstürm nervously.

  "I didn't,” repeated Mallory.

  "It sounded like footsteps."

  They had been walking as they talked, and now they found themselves just a few steps from a branch in the corridor.

  "Which way did they seem to be coming from?” asked Mallory.

  "From the right, I think,” replied Mürgenstürm.

  Mallory stepped into the junction of the corridors, turned to his right—

  And found himself face to face with a growling, snarling bull gorilla.

  "Jesus!" he muttered. Both man and gorilla remained motionless for an instant. Then Mallory turned on his heel and raced back down the corridor, practically flattening Mürgenstürm in the process. The gorilla screamed, pounded his chest with his hairy hands, and then began lumbering leisurely after them.

  Mallory came to the elephant with Mürgenstürm just a step behind him and raced to his right. As he entered the nearest corridor, he heard shrill, angry trumpeting behind him. He ran halfway down the corridor, then chanced a quick look behind him.

  "We're safe!” he panted to the elf. “He can't get through. The corridor's too narrow for
him."

  "Not for him, though,” whimpered Mürgenstürm, pointing in the opposite direction, where a black-maned lion was slinking toward them, his belly skimming the marble floor.

  Somewhere a public address system clicked on, and the static momentarily frightened the lion, which leaped into an adjoining corridor.

  "Assuming that you're still alive, I suppose you'd like an explanation,” said Jebediah's voice.

  "It would be nice,” muttered Mallory under his breath.

  "I didn't mean to desert you, Mr. Mallory, but I simply couldn't wait any longer. You see, the animals in this museum were stuffed and mounted by Akim Ramblatt."

  "Who the hell is Akim Ramblatt?” whispered Mürgenstürm.

  "You're probably wondering who the hell Ramblatt was,” said the old man's voice. “The answer to that is that he was the best taxidermist who ever practiced the art. By the time he went to work for us, he was already known as the Master Builder.” There was a brief pause. “He makes his animals appear so lifelike that they simply don't know they're dead. They sit up there in their glass cases all day thinking about it, and along about eleven each night they can't see any reason why they shouldn't stretch their legs and walk around a bit."

  The next line was drowned out by a scream from some unidentified beast.

  "Anyway, they're usually only active for an hour or two before they remember that they're not really alive. Ramblatt may have been the Master Builder, but he was not, after all, God.” Jebediah chuckled. “So, assuming that you can hear my voice, all you have to do is hide in a safe place for the next couple of hours and you'll be just fine. The one time I got caught out of the office, I dove into the water hole and breathed through a hollow tube—but of course, that was before Ramblatt added the rhino. Not that he's vicious—at least as rhinos go—but he does love his wallow, and it's a very small water hole.” He sighed. “Oh, well, you'll figure something out. And now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for my nap. If you manage to live through this experience, stop by my office; I'll have some coffee on the stove.” Another pause. “I really can't think of any other advice for you. Ten-four."

  The public address system went dead.

  "How long has it been since eleven o'clock?” asked Mürgenstürm weakly.

  Mallory checked his watch. “Seven minutes."

  "That's all?"