Stalking the Unicorn: A Fable of Tonight

by Mike Resnick

  The detective nodded, as the sound of moving bodies came to their ears.

  "We can't stay here,” said Mallory. “We're right in the middle of the African exhibit."

  The rustling sounds of movement became louder.

  "What's on the second floor?” asked Mallory.

  Mürgenstürm shrugged. “Just bones and fossils, I think."

  "It can't be any more dangerous than here,” concluded the detective. “Let's find a staircase."

  He headed off to his left, then froze as the gorilla lumbered into sight.

  "The other way! Quick!"

  They returned to the junction where the elephant had been mounted. At the moment it was inspecting the entrance to one of the other corridors, and Mallory and Mürgenstürm, backs to the wall, began edging gingerly around the area, looking for a sign that might point either to a staircase or an exit.

  Suddenly the elephant wheeled around, flattened its ears, and charged toward them without a sound. Mürgenstürm backed into a corridor while Mallory looked desperately for an escape route. At the last instant he dove to the floor, slid beneath the startled pachyderm's outstretched trunk, regained his feet, and hurled himself into a new corridor. The elephant followed him instantly, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Mallory realized that he had chosen the one corridor through which it could move with ease.

  He took a hard right at the next juncture, barely avoiding the elephant's trunk, and skidded to a halt as he found himself no more than twenty feet away from a rhinoceros that was grunting and pawing at the marble tiles with a forefoot.

  He heard the elephant scream once, and then the building seemed to shake as it bore down upon him with thunderous, bone-crunching steps. He took a quick look back, found his entire field of vision filled by elephant, and dove into the diorama from which the rhinoceros had emerged.

  He expected to be lifted high above the floor, wrapped in the elephant's trunk, and hurled against a wall, or perhaps impaled on its long miscolored tusks—but although the hideous sounds of thudding bodies came to his ears, he was still alive and intact half a minute later, when he finally forced himself to open a terrified eye.

  The rhino, a gaping wound on its left shoulder, was racing down the corridor, pursued by the enraged elephant.

  Mallory considered remaining where he was, hidden by weeds and grasses, then remembered that sooner or later the rhino would return to its diorama, probably little the worse—but considerably the more enraged—for wear.

  Cautiously the detective got to his feet, crawled to the edge of the diorama, and stuck his head out into the corridor. It was empty, and he immediately began walking rapidly in the opposite direction from the one the elephant and the rhino had taken. He took two more turns, heard the chattering of monkeys, decided that their shrieks would warn him of any approaching predators, and entered their corridor. Their screaming and chattering increased, and a number of them threw fruits and nuts at him, but none left their dioramas, and finally he saw a small stairway at the end of the corridor. He broke into a trot, and had almost reached it when he found the bull gorilla blocking his way.

  Mallory suddenly remembered the pistol he had purchased. He reached into his robe, pulled it out, and pumped four quick shots into the gorilla's chest.

  "You can't kill something that's already dead,” mumbled the gorilla in harsh, guttural tones.

  Mallory blinked rapidly.

  "I warned you not to come to the museum,” continued the gorilla, glaring balefully at the detective.

  "Are you the Grundy?” asked Mallory.

  "For the moment,” growled the gorilla, approaching him slowly. “And a moment is all you have remaining, John Justin Mallory!"

  Mallory looked around desperately as he backed away. Finally his gaze fell on some dry weeds in one of the dioramas. He grabbed them, set fire to them with his pocket lighter, and thrust them at the gorilla's harsh, dry hair.

  The gorilla instantly burst into flame. The cold light of the Grundy's intelligence left its eyes and, screaming, it raced away down the corridor. Mallory watched it for a moment, then quickly walked the rest of the way to the staircase and began climbing up to the second floor—and collided with Mürgenstürm, who was racing down the stairs.

  "Where the hell were you?” demanded the little elf, his face flushed from exertion.

  "Downstairs,” said Mallory. “Where the hell do you think I was?"

  "How do I know? One minute you were there and the next minute I was all alone!” Mürgenstürm tried unsuccessfully to push him aside. “Let me by!"

  "You're going the wrong way."

  "You go your way and I'll go mine!” said the elf desperately.

  "But there's nothing upstairs!” protested Mallory. “All the stuffed animals are on the first floor!"

  "You may know it, and I may know it, but try telling him!"

  "Try telling who?” demanded Mallory.

  "Him!" whimpered Mürgenstürm, pointing a trembling finger toward the top of the stairs.

  "Wait here,” said Mallory, cautiously climbing the remainder of the stairs.

  When he reached the doorway to the second floor he was confronted by a huge green panel that completely blocked his way. As he tried to figure out what it was, he became uncomfortably aware of the fact that it was moving, and a moment later he realized that it was the tail of a brontosaur.

  "How can that be, John Justin?” whispered Mürgenstürm, who had followed him up. “Nobody's ever stuffed and mounted a dinosaur. They're just skeletons!"

  "It's the Grundy's work,” said Mallory grimly.

  "The Grundy stuffs dinosaurs?” asked Mürgenstürm, bewildered.

  Mallory nodded. “He also makes mistakes."

  "He hasn't made any that I'm aware of,” said Mürgenstürm devoutly.

  "He made one a couple of minutes ago,” said the detective. “And now he's made another one. This damned thing is a vegetarian; it won't bother us."

  "Elephants are vegetarians too,” Mürgenstürm reminded him.

  "You've got a point,” admitted Mallory, his sense of triumph evaporating. “Well, we sure as hell can't stay here."

  "Why not?” asked the elf.

  "Take a look,” said Mallory, pointing to the foot of the stairs, where a leopard was slowly climbing up toward them. When it saw that its prey was aware of its presence it looked full into the detective's eyes and snarled.

  "Shoot him!” cried the elf, suddenly noticing the pistol in Mallory's hand.

  "It wouldn't do any good. He's already dead."

  Mürgenstürm raced ahead of the detective and bolted into the enormous hall. Mallory followed him, securing the door behind them.

  The brontosaur was at the far end of the hall, some 200 feet away from them, casually inspecting its surroundings and looking for food.

  "There aren't any other doors,” said Mürgenstürm, “just this one and the main stairway—and what do you want to bet that Rex and his flying friends are waiting there for us?"

  "How about elevators?"

  "I can't see any."

  "Wonderful,” muttered Mallory. Suddenly he turned to the little elf. “Can you stop time for them the way you did for the two hoods in my office?"

  "That's the best idea you've had all night, John Justin!” replied Mürgenstürm. “A truly phenomenal notion. I knew I picked a good man!"

  "Why not?” asked Mallory wearily.

  "It only works with creatures who are aware of time to begin with,” explained Mürgenstürm. “And obviously a dinosaur who is walking around in the twentieth century has only the haziest conception of the passage of time."

  "I don't suppose you'd care to try it anyway?"

  "I already did."

  "Have you got any other parlor tricks you can do?"

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know—levitation, teleportation, anything like that."

  Mürgenstürm shook his head unhappily. “Stopping time is my pièce de rési
stance.” He paused. “And it only works for about five minutes anyway,” he added apologetically.

  Mallory made no reply, but stared intently at the brontosaur, which stood between them and the main staircase.

  Mürgenstürm grabbed the detective's sleeve, shaking it. “Are you all right, John Justin?"

  "Shut up!” snapped Mallory. “I'm thinking."

  "About what?"

  Mallory was silent for another moment. Then he looked down at the elf.

  "Do you have to be in the same room with whomever you stop time for?"

  "It helps."

  "But it's not absolutely necessary?"

  Suddenly Mürgenstürm turned a pale green. “Oh, no!” he said. “You can't be serious, John Justin!"

  "Why not?"

  "He'll kill me!"

  "In case it's escaped your attention, he's trying to kill you already."

  "But he's the Grundy!"

  "He's the guy who's animating these animals. If you stop time for him, maybe they'll go back to sleep when he does."

  "But he's got powers!"

  "Do you want to find that damned unicorn before tomorrow morning or don't you?” demanded Mallory.

  "He's too far away!"

  "Try!"

  "And he's stronger than I am."

  "We don't need five minutes,” said Mallory. “Sixty seconds will do. We'll run right down the main stairway and out the front door."

  "But—"

  The brontosaur suddenly noticed them and began approaching.

  "All right!” whimpered the elf.

  "Well?” asked Mallory as the brontosaur drew nearer.

  "I did it."

  "It isn't working."

  "I told you it wouldn't!” said Mürgenstürm, darting back into the stairwell.

  And then, between one step and the next, the dinosaur froze.

  "Mürgenstürm!” yelled Mallory.

  "Don't hit me!” whined the elf. “It's not my fault!"

  "It worked!” shouted Mallory. “Let's get the hell out of here!"

  He raced across the hall to the head of the main staircase, slid down the long, curving banister, and ran to the front door.

  "What's the matter?” asked Mürgenstürm, joining him a few seconds later.

  "It's locked!"

  "Of course it's locked."

  "I thought it would be one of those doors that you could open from the inside!” Mallory looked around desperately. “Where's the door we came in through?"

  "This way!” said Mürgenstürm, heading off at a run.

  Mallory fell into step behind him, and suddenly heard a loud hissing noise.

  "Faster!” he yelled. “Rex is waking up!"

  The elf reached the door ten steps ahead of Mallory and hurled himself through it. Mallory dove after him, just as the talons of Rex's tiny forelegs ripped his pants from the knee to the ankle, and then the door slammed shut behind him.

  "Made it!” wheezed Mürgenstürm, lying on his back and panting, completely oblivious to the freezing rain.

  Mallory, bent over, hands on knees, was too busy catching his breath to answer immediately. Finally he rasped out, “That was too damned close!"

  "We were lucky, John Justin,” said the elf. “But it won't work again. He'll be ready for it the next time."

  "He's some guy, this Grundy,” said Mallory. “I keep expecting to look up and see some witch on a broomstick skywriting SURRENDER, DOROTHY!"

  "Who's Dorothy?” asked Mürgenstürm.

  "Never mind.” He looked around. “By the way, where's Felina?"

  "Right here,” said a voice from above him.

  Mallory looked up and saw the cat-girl perched on a ledge, right next to a window.

  "What are you doing up there?"

  "I was watching you with the dinosaur,” she said. “You're not very fast."

  "I hope you enjoyed yourself,” said Mallory dryly.

  She smiled and nodded.

  "I suppose it never occurred to you to help us."

  She continued smiling and shook her head slowly.

  "I take it that your sympathies lie with the predator rather than the prey."

  Her smile widened.

  "What next, John Justin?” asked the elf. “We can't go back into the museum, and Larkspur's trail is cold."

  "Next we find a phone book."

  "And look under U?" suggested Mürgenstürm sarcastically.

  Mallory shook his head. “Under C."

  "C?" repeated the elf. “Who's that?"

  "Colonel W. Carruthers."

  "I never heard of him."

  "He's the guy who killed the unicorn in the museum."

  "So you still insist on educating yourself about unicorns?” complained Mürgenstürm. He pointed to Mallory's wristwatch. “It's eleven-eighteen and we're no closer than when we started. By the time you learn anything useful about unicorns, it will be sunrise!"

  "The alternative is learning about the Grundy,” replied Mallory, “and I already know more about him than I want to. Besides, maybe we can hire this Carruthers to help us.” He looked up at Felina. “Are you coming along or not?"

  In response, she stood up and prepared to jump off the window ledge.

  "Don't!” shouted Mallory. “It's a twenty-foot drop!"

  She laughed and flung herself out into space. Mallory closed his eyes and turned his head away, waiting for the sound of a splat! as her body crashed onto the pavement.

  Instead, he soon became aware of a soft purring, and an instant later Felina was rubbing her back up and down against his hip.

  "I'm hungry,” she said.

  "Don't you ever think of anything except your stomach?” asked Mallory.

  "Eating makes more sense than chasing a unicorn through the rain on New Year's Eve,” she replied.

  The detective stared at her. “It was starting to seem pretty logical until you put it that way.” He shook his head. “You know, every time I think I'm starting to understand this city, something like this happens."

  "Something like what?” asked the elf.

  "Like the animals coming to life in the museum.” He uttered a curse. “Damn, but I thought I had him there for a minute!"

  "Him?"

  "The Grundy. He was speaking to me through a gorilla, and I set him on fire. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy."

  "You actually set the Grundy on fire?” repeated Mürgenstürm, wide-eyed.

  Mallory shook his head. “I set the gorilla on fire.” He paused. “I'll get him the next time."

  "You don't know what you're saying, John Justin!” said the elf fearfully.

  "He had hundreds of animals and dinosaurs at his disposal, and we got out in one piece. He stole a unicorn, but he left a witness behind. He tried to kill me, but he let me get close enough to set him on fire.” Mallory paused thoughtfully. “He may be powerful, but he's not perfect."

  Suddenly Felina hissed and dove into the grass. She stood up a moment later, covered with mud, proudly holding a small rodent in one hand.

  "You're not going to eat it like that, are you?” asked Mallory.

  "Of course not."

  "Good,” replied Mallory, relaxing.

  "I'm going to play with it first,” she said with a predatory grin.

  "Not in front of me, you're not!” snapped Mallory.

  "You mustn't judge her too harshly, John Justin,” said the elf. “It's her nature, just as yours is solving mysteries."

  "By the same token, it's the Grundy's nature to steal unicorns and kill oversexed elves. Why hold it against him?"

  "Let's not carry this line of reasoning to ridiculous extremes,” said Mürgenstürm haughtily.

  Felina, who had been looking off into the distance, turned to Mallory.

  "If you don't stop saying bad things about me, I won't tell you what I see."

  Mallory peered into the darkness.

  "I don't see anything."

  "Of course not. You're only a Man."

>   "All right,” said Mallory. “What do you see?"

  "Are you sorry that you criticized me?” she replied with a cunning smile.

  He stared at her for a moment. “All right—I'm sorry."

  "And you'll never, ever do it again, no matter what?"

  "I said I'm sorry. That's enough."

  "But did you mean it?” she purred.

  "I meant it!” yelled Mallory. “Now, what the hell do you see?"

  "A unicorn."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 5

  11:20 PM-Midnight

  "Where is it?” demanded Mallory.

  "Over there, on the bridle path. Can you see it now?"

  Mallory wiped the rain from his eyes and squinted. “I can't even see the bridle path. Is someone with it, or is it running loose?"

  "I can't tell,” said Felina.

  "Can you tell if it's Larkspur?” asked Mallory.

  Felina shrugged. “All unicorns look alike.” She paused thoughtfully. “All men look alike, too."

  "How far away is it?” persisted the detective, still trying unsuccessfully to discern its shape.

  "Not very,” said Felina, turning her attention back to the rodent in her hand. “Hello, little appetizer,” she purred.

  "Let's go!” said Mallory.

  Felina sat down cross-legged on the grass. “Cute little cold cut,” she said. “I think I'll put you on a cracker,"

  "Felina, get up!” demanded Mallory.

  "I'm busy,” said the cat-girl, releasing the rodent, then grabbing it just before it could race beyond her reach.

  "Damn it! We need your help!"

  "Just follow the bridle path and you'll catch up with it sooner or later."

  "Where is the bridle path?"

  "That way,” she said, holding up the rodent and pointing it to the east.

  Mallory turned to Mürgenstürm. “Let's go."

  "We might need her,” protested the elf.

  "If we stick around long enough to watch her torture her dinner, we may never catch up with the damned unicorn,” said Mallory, setting off across the soggy grass in the direction Felina had indicated. Mürgenstürm opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and fell into step behind him.

  They walked for almost 300 yards, and finally came to the cinder bridle path.

  "Which way now, I wonder?” mused Mallory, looking up and down the path.