Petrified

by Graham Masterton

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Kavita sobbed. ‘I’m so, so sorry. I thought it would make everything right. I told you I was stupid.’

  Nathan took hold of her hand. ‘You’re not stupid, Kavita. You’re super-intelligent. But sometimes super-intelligent people can’t imagine the depths of moral shittitude to which people like Ron Kasabian are capable of sinking. Listen, if we can prove beyond doubt that the phoenix project works – if this little girl’s face regenerates itself – then we should be able to find funding from almost anyone. Maybe even the federal government.’

  She looked at him with a tear-stained face, and her mascara had run so badly she looked like Alice Cooper. ‘Do you hate me? Do you think I’m worthless?’

  He took her crumpled tissue and wiped her eyes. ‘You made a mistake, that’s all. You should never sell yourself for any reason. Not your beliefs, not your principles, not your body.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated, dismally.

  ‘Don’t be. Here – let me drive the rest of the way home. We can both freshen up and then we can go see Torchy. And Ron Kasabian, if he’s there, and tell him what we think of him. When you said he wasn’t very good . . .?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it. I’m too ashamed of myself. But, yes. He had hardly started when he was finished.’

  ‘OK. I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up, ever again. And if I have anything to do with it, neither will he.’

  TWENTY-TWO

  Friday, 11:37 a.m.

  Grace was off-duty that morning, so while Nathan went upstairs to shower and change, she perked a pot of coffee and whipped up some of her famous egg and pepper omelets. Kavita sat on one of the kitchen stools and talked to her while she cooked. As he went upstairs, Nathan could hear her telling Grace how Torchy’s plumage was beginning to shine, and how docile he had become since his fiery and bad-tempered debut.

  Passing Denver’s bedroom, Nathan was sure that he could hear a faint, persistent tish-tish-tish that sounded like music. He stopped and listened. Denver was supposed to be at school, so he must have left his iPod playing. But when Nathan opened the door, he found Denver sprawled on his bed with his earphones on, his eyes closed, punching the air in time to the AxCx song he was listening to, and mouthing the words in a high, catarrhal whine – what his friends would have called singing a crapella.

  ‘Hear the pounding, army of the night! The call of metal summons us tonight! We rule the night!’

  Nathan walked up to the side of his bed and grabbed hold of his ankle. Denver shouted out, ‘Aaahh! Fuck!’ and sat up so quickly that his earphones were pulled out of his ears. He blinked at Nathan as if he couldn’t think who he was.

  ‘Why aren’t you at school?’ Nathan demanded.

  ‘Why aren’t you in hospital?’ Denver retorted.

  Nathan held up his hand, right in front of Denver’s nose, so that Denver went cross-eyed trying to focus on it. ‘I’m not in hospital because my hand is all healed already. What’s your excuse?’

  Denver clamped his hand to the left side of his head. ‘I have a really bad earache.’

  ‘You have a really bad earache and you’re listening to that racket? Get real. You have a really bad earache because you wanted to cut your math class, and earache is one of the few ailments that nobody can tell for sure if you’re faking it or not.’

  ‘Dad – I swear to you. I have an earache. It’s like this unbearable throbbing, you know? I think I got an infection in my ear when I went swimming on Monday.’

  ‘And what does Mom say?’

  ‘Mom said it was OK to take a day off, seeing as how it’s Friday anyhow.’

  ‘Mom is much too soft.’

  ‘Dad, really, I’m not faking it. I promise. I feel terrible.’

  ‘OK,’ said Nathan, reluctantly. ‘But it’s a pity you’re feeling so bad, because Kavita’s downstairs.’

  Denver swung his feet off the bed. ‘Hey, I’m not feeling that bad that I can’t be polite.’

  Nathan smiled and shook his head. ‘Go on, then. Go talk to her. Ask her about the phoenix. I won’t be long. I’m just going to take a shower.’

  ‘Dad,’ said Denver, as Nathan turned to leave the room.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Do you think Kavita would go out with me? Like, on a date? I know I’m a couple of years younger than her, but you know, I think I’m quite mature for my age.’

  ‘One day, maybe. But not today. She’s been through some personal stuff recently, and I don’t think she’s really in the mood for dating.’

  ‘Oh. OK. Is she OK?’

  ‘Oh, sure. But she’s only just found out that the world can be a much crappier place than she imagined. Happens to us all, eventually. It’s called “disillusionment”. Or “growing up”.’

  They ate breakfast together in the kitchen, with the sun shining across the table and lighting up the jar of marmalade like an orange lamp.

  Grace said, ‘I was so angry about Nathan burning himself. Spontaneity I don’t mind at all. But spontaneous stupidity – that does make me mad. I get so many patients who do stupid things on the spur of the moment and end up hurting themselves really badly. My waiting room is almost like an open audition for Jackass Four.’

  ‘But Professor Underhill has proved something so amazing,’ said Kavita. ‘If that little girl’s face regenerates . . . it’s like a miracle, almost.’

  ‘There’s a kid at school,’ Denver put in. ‘He has these twisty purple scars all over his legs because his brother pushed a lighted firework down his pants. He’s real self-conscious when he has to wear shorts. But if you could fix somebody like him, that would be great.’

  ‘I think we can fix anybody,’ said Nathan. ‘In a few years’ time, the phoenix treatment is going to be the standard cure for burns, worldwide, and we’re all going to be very, very famous and very, very rich.’

  ‘I thought you said you didn’t get into this cryptozoology stuff for the money,’ said Denver. ‘I thought you said you were doing it for the good of mankind.’

  ‘Do you want a new Mustang or not?’ Nathan asked him.

  When they had finished brunch, Kavita left to drive herself downtown, while Nathan stayed behind to go through his mail and talk to Grace.

  ‘I can’t believe you let Denver play hooky,’ he told her. ‘You know there’s not a damn thing wrong with him. Earache, my ass.’

  ‘I know there’s nothing wrong with him. But didn’t you ever skip school for a day, when you were his age? I know you think it’s important to be strict if you’re a parent. But I think you need to be indulgent, now and again. It makes your kids realize that you’re human, after all. And it also makes them feel ever so slightly guilty, and where there’s guilt there’s chores, like taking out the trash or raking the lawn.’

  ‘You’re more devious than I thought, Doctor Underhill,’ grinned Nathan, and gave her a kiss.

  As he drove to the Schiller building, he listened to the local news. The lead item was the killing of Eduardo Sanchez Delgado in the parking lot of Temple University Hospital.

  ‘Police are still declining to commit themselves as to the exact cause of Mr Delgado’s death. His fellow orderly was the only eyewitness, and according to police he is still in shock and unable to give a coherent description of what happened. However, several hospital patients and employees who saw Mr Delgado’s body after the incident say that it appeared that he had been crushed, as if by a very heavy object.

  ‘Detective Jenna Pullet, who is leading the investigation, appealed for anybody who was in the vicinity of the incident to contact her.

  ‘“Any detail, no matter how trivial or unimportant you may think it is, can assist us in determining how Mr Delgado met his death. If you saw anything out of the ordinary, or heard anything unusual, please contact me on two-one-five six-eight-six thirty-ninety. Your call will be kept strictly confidential.”

  ‘Detective Pullet was asked by our correspondent if the death of Mr Delgado could be connected in
any way with the stone statues that have apparently been falling from the sky on to various locations around Philly over the past week. As we reported earlier, a third statue, almost intact, appeared to have been dropped into the wetlands at Bartram’s Gardens sometime during Wednesday night or early Thursday morning.

  ‘“Our forensic teams are still examining the statue that was recovered from Bartram’s Gardens and reassembling the fragments of the statues from the Convent of Divine Love and Woodlands Cemetery. I’m afraid that it’s far too early for us to make a positive identification of any of them.”

  ‘“And still no clue where they might have come from?”

  ‘“Not so far. But as soon as we find out for sure – don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know.”’

  Henry, the Super, gave Nathan a salute as he walked into the lobby of the Schiller building.

  ‘Top of the mornin’, Professor! Real glad to see you got your hand fixed up so quick! That was some kind of amazin’.’

  ‘Hi there, Henry. How’s it going?’

  ‘Just fine, so long as I stay well clear of that crazy pigeon of yours. I swear that bird would peck out my eyes and have them for breakfast, given half a chance.’

  ‘Really? Still? Kavita told me that Torchy had really chilled out.’

  ‘With her, maybe. But no way with nobody else. A couple of building contractors come in yesterday afternoon to give us an estimate for redecoratin’ your laboratory, but that bird of yours made such an all-fired fuss, a-screamin’ and a-flappin’, they came hot-footin’ out of there like their asses was alight. The sooner you can find a new roost for him, the happier I’m goin’ to be.’

  ‘Well, between you and me, Henry, that shouldn’t be too long now.’

  ‘Praise the Lord, Professor. But welcome back, all the same.’

  Nathan crossed over to the elevator and went up to his laboratory. Most of the debris from the holocaust of Torchy’s birthing had been cleared away now, including the twisted steel bars of his cage. Aarif was hunched over one of the benches, peering at stem cell samples with his microscope. He was wearing a red knitted hat and an ankle-length djellaba, in maroon wool. Kavita meanwhile was standing in front of Torchy’s cage. The door was open and she was taking readings of Torchy’s heart rate and respiration and other vital signs, and scraping up faeces for chemical analysis.

  Torchy himself had grown by at least a third since Nathan had last seen him – and Kavita had been right about the transformation of his beak and his plumage. In fact, she hadn’t done him justice. His beak had now flushed a deep rosebud pink, and the feathers around his neck were gleaming in crimsons and yellows and iridescent greens, while the feathers on his body were gradually turning into burnished gold. His tail looked like a fine spray of yellow broom.

  Nathan approached the cage and as he did so Torchy cocked his head on one side, and shuffled his claws uneasily on his perch.

  ‘Take it real easy, Professor,’ said Kavita. ‘He doesn’t remember who you are, and he’s very suspicious of strangers.’

  ‘OK,’ said Nathan, lifting up both hands to show Torchy that he meant him no harm. ‘No need to get edgy, son. I’m your father, after all.’

  Without looking up from his microscope, Aarif said, ‘That is no guarantee. Whenever my father comes into the room, he always makes me feel edgy. I know he loves me, but he is such a demanding man. In Egypt we say that a father curses his son, but is just as angry with anybody who says amen.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ said Nathan.

  Kavita held up a test tube. ‘I’ve already extracted the stem cell sample for this evening’s injections. So – just as soon as I’ve finished all of these readings, we’ll be ready to go.’

  ‘That’s great,’ Nathan told her, and laid his hand on her shoulder. Instantly, the phoenix let out a shrill, furious screech and beat his wings, so that his cage was filled with a storm of golden feathers. Still screeching, he threw himself toward the open door, but Kavita managed to slam it shut and latch it before he could burst out of it.

  ‘Please, Professor – please back off!’ Kavita begged him. ‘Torchy is so-o-o protective.’

  ‘You’re not kidding, are you? It looks like you’ve got yourself a guard-phoenix there. He hasn’t hurt himself, has he, crashing against his cage like that?’

  ‘Scavenger hawks are known for the fierceness with which they defend their young,’ said Aarif. ‘I have heard of men who have been blinded by scavenger hawks when they accidentally came too close to their nests.’

  Nathan approached the cage again, and the phoenix ruffled its feathers and warbled in its throat as if it were warning him off. ‘The question is,’ he said, ‘what are we going to do with Torchy if we have to close this project down?’

  ‘That’s a question for later,’ said a deep, harsh voice. ‘For the time being, it looks like the project is staying active.’

  TWENTY-THREE

  Friday, 1:26 p.m.

  Nathan turned around. Ron Kasabian had walked into the laboratory. He was wearing a tan suit that was almost the same color as his face, and tan Gucci loafers.

  ‘Well, well! How are you feeling today Nathan?’ he said, with that lopsided grin that he put on to convey sincerity. ‘Kavita told me that your hand is almost completely healed up.’

  Nathan lifted it up to show him, turning it this way and that and wiggling his fingers. ‘See – I told you that this phoenix project would work.’

  ‘So you did. But then again, you can hardly blame me for being skeptical. You were eating up so much budget, with nothing to show for it but this chicken here.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think you were being skeptical, Ron. I think you were being short-sighted and unimaginative rather than skeptical.’

  Ron Kasabian tried to look amused. ‘Maybe you’re right, Nate. Maybe I was too hasty in cutting off your funding. It looks like there could be some profit in this phoenix project after all.’

  ‘Not for you, Ron, unfortunately,’ said Nathan.

  There was a dead silence, except for the phoenix warbling. Ron Kasabian said, ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You heard me. I said that you won’t be getting anything out of it. I’m through here. I quit. I’m closing the project down. At Schiller’s, anyhow.’

  Ron Kasabian’s grin disappeared, and his voice grew harsher. His words were conciliatory, but his tone was distinctly threatening. ‘You burned your own hand just to prove me wrong, Nate, which was a very brave thing to do. OK, I admit it, I might have made a misjudgment, but now I’m willing to recommend a temporary resumption of funding. So why would you quit now?’

  ‘Because nobody exploits the loyalty of my research assistants. You understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘I’m not so sure that I do.’

  ‘Well, let me spell it out for you,’ said Nathan, walking across to him and poking his chest with his finger. ‘You took advantage of Kavita because you knew how devoted she is to this project, and you knew how devoted she is to me.’

  Ron Kasabian turned to Kavita, his jaw working as if he were masticating a particularly gristly mouthful of steak.

  ‘You told him? You told him? What kind of a stupid slut are you?’

  ‘She’s not any kind of slut,’ Nathan snapped at him. ‘What you did to her, that practically amounts to rape. And if you think I’m going to continue working on a project that’s been financed by sexual harassment, then you have another think coming. It’s over, Ron, and you’ll be lucky if I don’t report you to the cops, and Schiller’s board of directors, both.’

  Ron’s nostrils flared. For a moment, Nathan thought that he was going to be able to control his fury, and simply stalk back out of the laboratory. But then he lost it. His face reddened and his eyes bulged like Theodor Zauber’s gargoyle. The veins in his neck stood out as thick as ropes.

  ‘You fucking stupid slut!’ he bellowed. He pushed Nathan roughly to one side and went for Kavita, seizing her by the shoulders and shaking her so hard that her
face became a blur.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you not to say anything to anybody? That was the deal, you slut! What did I tell you?’ His voice rose to a barely-comprehensible scream. ‘What did I fucking tell you?’

  Nathan hooked his arm around Ron Kasabian’s neck, trying to pull him away. Aarif came around the laboratory bench and grabbed his right arm. But Ron Kasabian was a big man, and he was incandescent with rage. He swung his right arm sideways, with his fist clenched, and he punched Aarif so hard in the face that Nathan heard his nose crack. Blood sprayed out Aarif’s nostrils and he staggered backward, stumbling over a stool.

  ‘Get off her, Ron!’ Nathan shouted. ‘Let go of her! Are you crazy?’

  Ron Kasabian didn’t hear him. He was deafened by his rage. Nobody disobeyed Ron Kasabian, ever – especially women. He slapped Kavita’s face one way and then the other. Kavita started to scream – an urgent, piping scream that sounded like a kettle boiling over.

  Nathan jumped on Ron Kasabian again, and managed to force his head back. Ron Kasabian released his grip on Kavita, and twisted himself around, so that he could punch Nathan hard in the ribs. Nathan gasped, but punched him back. Without hesitation, Ron Kasabian head-butted him, so hard that their skulls knocked together – klokk! – and Nathan toppled backward on to the floor, hitting his shoulder. Dark stars swam in front of his eyes.

  Half concussed, he saw Ron Kasabian going after Kavita again, and forcing her back over one of the benches. Kavita tried to bring her knee up between his legs, but Ron Kasabian slapped her again, even harder this time. He was shouting something at her, but by now he was so angry that he was incoherent. ‘You – fucking – swore to me – never – do that – ever – betray me – nobody – fucking – ever! Do you hear me? Evaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!’

  Nathan grabbed the stool nearest to him and heaved himself back on to his feet. He took two steps toward Ron Kasabian, but as he prepared to jump on him again, he saw a bright flare of light from Torchy’s cage – like a white flower opening up, a flower with petals made of incandescent magnesium. It was almost too dazzling to look at directly, and Nathan had to shield his eyes with his hand.