The Mad Goblin

by Philip José Farmer

  Ten minutes later, Caliban reappeared so suddenly from behind a tree that Barbara jumped and Cobbs wheeled around swiftly, bringing his rifle up.

  Doc stepped back behind the tree and said, “Don’t shoot.”

  “Doc, you shouldn’t do that,” Cobbs said. “You’re likely to get shot.”

  Caliban said, “Follow me.”

  He led them upward to the right for about twenty yards and stopped. They were facing a fairly smooth outcropping of rock. Doc Caliban walked forward on the apron of the rock extending from its base and pushed on a small boulder at one side. The boulder rocked; there was a grinding noise and a section of the outcropping slid to one side.

  “How’d you find it, Doc?” Pauncho said.

  Doc tapped at the pocket which now held the small device he had used when casting back and forth. “It indicates small changes in the local magnetic fields. It detected the hollow behind that rock, and so I looked for something that would be the entrance activator.”

  They went into the chamber which had been cut out of the solid granite. Doc pulled a lever sticking out of a box in a corner, and the ponderous section of rock slid back into place. Immediately after, electric light bulbs fixed to brackets about four feet from the floor, and about thirty feet from each other, lit up. These were connected to wires which, in turn, occasionally descended the wall to the generator on the floor. Doc recognized the foot-square metal boxes as his own invention. They stored electricity derived by amplification of the flux of the earth’s magnetic lines of force. They could not provide much current for very long, but the bulbs probably did not get much use in these corridors. They became extinguished as soon as the last person passed them, and they lit up as soon as the first person got within ten feet of them.

  Each one in the party held his rifle across his belly. Doc held his with one hand while the other was extended with the magnetic-field discriminator.

  Whenever it was a question of going to left or right, Doc looked at the juncture of floor and wall. Cobbs had carefully made tiny markings with a pen the first time he had come here. These indicated their previous route so that they would be able to find their way out.

  They went up steps cut out of stone to upper levels four times before Cobbs finally called a halt.

  “We’re getting close to the place where the dwarf captured us.”

  They were standing in a round chamber about forty feet across. It contained a dozen large boxes of oak on which were carved hunting and battle scenes. The costumes of the dwarfs and the humans in the scenes were those worn circa 800-900 A.D.

  “They look like coffins,” Pauncho said to the woman.

  “They are coffins,” she said.

  She tried to raise a lid but could not manage it. “It’s so heavy,” she said. “But you should see the mummified body and the jewelry and gold it’s decorated with.”

  “Here, let me help you!” Barney and Pauncho said. They collided with each other in their eagerness to get to the coffin.

  “Leave it alone!” Doc said. “They might be booby-trapped now!”

  But Pauncho, grinning because he had shoved Barney out of the way, had started to raise the lid. Barney dived for the floor as if he expected the coffin to explode. Barbara gave a small scream. Pauncho had stepped back and dropped the lid, which was raised about eight inches. It did not drop. Instead, it continued to rise, and the figure in it sat up. He held an automatic pistol in one hand.

  At the same time, the lids of the other coffins screeched upward, and other figures sat up aiming automatic pistols at them.

  A voice behind them said, “Freeze!” A voice ahead of them said, “Not a move!”

  “A beauty of a trap!” Pauncho whispered. He looked at Doc Caliban. The huge man was obeying instructions. He had no choice. The fire from three sides would have cut them all down within a few seconds.

  Ten minutes later, their hands cuffed behind them, they went up stone steps onto another level. The twenty men who accompanied them kept pistols pressed against their backs. They marched down a long tunnel on the walls of which were hung many paintings done in a very primitive but forceful manner. It looked as if this were the place Iwaldi had chosen as his ancestral gallery. The paintings were mainly of long-bearded fierce-faced men with beetling brows, bushy eyebrows, round blobs of noses, and very broad shoulders.

  Doc Caliban remembered, however, that Iwaldi had been born long before portrait painting of this sort was known. These dwarfs must be men who had inhabited this underground fortress; perhaps they were Iwaldi’s descendants, not his grandsires.

  Except for the paintings, the tunnel was bare rock.

  They were marched into a square chamber and here all the prisoners were forced to undress. The inspection that followed was thorough and included probing for concealed objects. Doc’s wig and facial pseudoskin was pulled off. Two false teeth containing explosives and a coil of very thin wire were removed from his mouth.

  Barbara Villiers said nothing. She was as dignified as if she were wearing a formal at the opera. Out of regard for her, Barney and Pauncho repressed the ribald comments they would have made at each other’s expense.

  They were marched into a chamber about fifty feet square. Stone steps cut into the sides of the walls led up to three levels of runways carved out of the rock. A man led the way up on to the second level. Just past the nearest of many entrances was a room divided by two sections of thick iron bars. The man opened a door set in the first by inserting a thin metal rod into a hole and pressing a button on the rod. The door swung back, and the party was marched up to the next section of iron bars. This was opened in the same manner, and Caliban, van Veelar, and Banks were locked behind it. But Barbara Villiers and Carlos Cobbs were left outside. The men conducted them out onto the overhanging runway and around the corner. An iron door clanged. The men marched away. Presumably, the English couple had been locked in a cell facing the runway.

  “I wonder why they separated us?” Pauncho said.

  Doc did not answer.

  Days passed. At least, it seemed that many days passed. They had no way of determining time except by the number of meals, and they got so hungry in between these that they were sure many were being skipped. They exercised and slept and talked much, though when they did not want to be understood they talked in the language of the People of the Blue.

  The only person they saw was the man who brought their meals, and he never said a word.

  Then, three or four or five days after they were captured, two men entered the outside cage. Both were walking backward and holding a box with a short antenna directed at the beast which shambled around the corner. Two men came behind the animal, one of whom also held a box with an antenna directed at the beast.

  This was a huge grizzly, the North American Ursus horribilis. Its head swung low, and its eyes were a bright red. Its open mouth dripped saliva.

  The man with the box in front backed up to the wall, keeping his antenna pointed at the grizzly’s head. Then he pressed a button, and the grizzly lay down and went to sleep.

  The great head was only three feet from the prisoners, who could see the tiny hemisphere on top of it.

  The two men got out of the cell quickly and closed the door with a loud clang. The grizzly quivered at the sound but continued sleeping.

  One of the men holding a box pointed it at the beast, and, suddenly, the ponderous animal was on its feet and roaring. It reared upon its hind legs and advanced toward the prisoners as if it intended to go through the bars to get them. The man pressed another button, and the beast dropped to all fours. It no longer seemed angry; it was just curious as it prowled around the cell, sniffing here and there and stopping for some time to gaze at the prisoners.

  Barney said, “Do you think Iwaldi intends to let that bear loose on us?”

  Doc Caliban called loudly, “Mr. Cobbs! Miss Villiers! Can you hear me!”

  Cobbs’ voice was faint but distinct. “Yeah, I can hear you!”

&
nbsp; “Just testing!” Doc Caliban said. “Can you see anything of note?”

  “Just some of Iwaldi’s men! Nothing of Iwaldi!”

  A moment later, “Correction! Here comes Iwaldi!”

  Doc Caliban looked through the double set of bars but did not see the old dwarf appear as he had expected. About ten minutes afterward, the long-bearded hunched figure appeared from the right. Evidently, he had come up steps to the right instead of taking the closer steps to the left.

  The grizzly roared on seeing him and pressed against the bars as if it were trying to get its muzzle through and bite him.

  Two boxes with antennae were pointed at the bear, which immediately backed away and stayed in a corner while Iwaldi and four men entered. Two kept their antennae directed at the grizzly during the conversation that followed.

  Iwaldi rolled forward like a sailor, his body hunched forward and his arms swinging at his sides. His long white hair fell to his shoulders and his white beard swung like bleached Spanish moss in a wind. The wrinkled face came close to the bars but not so close that Doc Caliban could reach through and grab him.

  Iwaldi stood for two minutes staring at them while his thin lips slowly opened into a wide smile. The eyes were as red as the grizzly’s.

  Finally, the thin and cracked voice spoke.

  “You’ll not get out of this, Doctor Caliban!”

  “And why not, ancient fossil?” Caliban replied evenly.

  Iwaldi cackled. “Do you think that you, a baby, a born-just-yesterday, could anger me with your puerile words? So I’m a fossil? Well in a way, you’re right, since fossils endure while flesh dies. And you’ll die, Caliban, and soon! Very soon!”

  Doc Caliban shrugged and said, “Maybe I will. Since you think I am going to die, it wouldn’t hurt you to tell me what’s going on. Are you and the Nine really at war? Or did I make a bad guess?”

  Iwaldi fingered his beard with a deeply seamed and swollen-veined hand for a minute. Then he said, “It can’t hurt to indulge an ephemera such as yourself. And the knowledge might make your end even less endurable to you.

  “Yes, old Anana and her sycophants are at war with me! But it was I who declared war, not them! I almost got Anana and Shaumbim and Ing! We were to meet in Paris, and I arranged to have the walls of the house loaded with explosives! I was to arrive a few minutes late to the meeting, just after the smoke cleared away! But that Anana! She hasn’t survived for over 30,000 years by being insensitive. She smelled death in that house! That’s the only way I can account for it! She sniffed out the odor of coming death! And she left the house and took Shaumbim and Ing with her and was only a block away when the house blew up!

  “She should have blamed you or Grandrith for that, since she knows you’re capable of doing that! But the fact that I was late made her suspicious, and she sent me word to come to a house in London. She did not say why, but I knew. I was to be put on trial! Iwaldi! On trial!

  “I sent her a letter impregnated with chemicals which would release a poison gas when the envelope was opened! But she had someone else open it, and that person died, of course! From then on, it has been a battle! I finally decided to hole up here in my ancient stronghold, this mountain that was the property of some of my ancestors, the kings of the southern branch of the Gbabuld family! But I’m getting out now—for the time being—and leaving you here to face whatever you must! And whatever you must will be a matter of choice! So thank me for giving you a choice of deaths, Caliban!”

  “Why the war at all?” Caliban said, ignoring the reference to deaths.

  “Because the others have opposed me! They have sided with Anana! I wanted to let the mortals poison themselves and so eliminate themselves in time! I wanted to permit pollution to continue, the air to be fouled, the waters to be fouled, the fish to die, the ocean plants to die, the trees to die! In a few years, most of mankind will be dying of starvation! You know that! You said so in your report to us in 1946. You extrapolated almost one hundred percent what would happen, what is happening now and what will happen! You stated that enough people would become alarmed that measures would be taken to combat pollution! But it would be too late! The politicians would take over the fight against pollution and use it for their own advancement! And most measures would be band-aids whereas deep excisions and grafts were required! Those were your own words!

  “So, in about twenty years from now, a flicker of an eyelid in my lifetime, mortal, the sea life will be dying and there will be the very good chance that the world’s oxygen supply will be seriously reduced.

  “I wanted the Nine to keep their hands off! Let the mortals kill themselves off! Not that all of them would die, which is a pity, though it would be nice to have servants. But so many would die that civilization would collapse, and then the planet could begin the process of cleansing itself. Once again, we’d have pure air and pure water and trees would cover the land and the animals would return in great numbers. And we could set ourselves up as gods, as we did in the old days, and this time ensure that the mortals stayed few in numbers and poor in science. We wouldn’t make the same mistake all over again of letting them multiply and invent until suddenly the entire Earth was threatened!

  “But Anana said no. She said that if we let them go, we might die, too. The whole Earth might die. Only the most primitive forms of life would survive.

  “I said that we had the means to restore the proper balance when we wished. Your report said that your own researches had come up with a means whereby the phytoplankton balance could be restored and the chief source of the world’s oxygen would thrive again. We could use that after the mortals had become savages again and the cities were being uprooted by the plants and being buried under the good earth.

  “But they overruled me. Anana said that we could not afford to take a chance. We did not want to die, too, though she admitted that the prospect of a return to the good old days was tempting. She is very, very old, as you know, Caliban, but she remembers when the great forests covered Europe and even the isles of Greece were green with trees. She remembers when North Africa was wet and verdant. She remembers when you could travel for days in what is now France and not encounter a single human being. She remembers the great and the small beasts that lived in the forests.

  “But she decided that we would not let things take their course as determined by the mortals. She said that we must start using our influence on the governments to determine the effective course in fighting pollution. Action had to be taken now, and we would start planning our campaign immediately. Not for the sake of you ephemerae, you know that. But for the sake of the blessed green Earth. And for our sake.

  “So I appeared to agree, and I left. But Anana found out that I was secretly preparing countermeasures, and she summoned me to that house in Paris. And I set the trap, and it failed. But I will win. Old Iwaldi won’t fail! Although you won’t be around to witness my victory!”

  “And that is the only reason why you have deserted the ancient table of the Nine?” Caliban said.

  Iwaldi stared for a moment and then said, “Is that all? What do you mean?”

  “There isn’t some other reason you haven’t told me?”

  Iwaldi laughed so hard he had to bend over, and his beard almost touched the floor. When he managed to straighten up, he wiped the tears from his bloodshot eyes with the tip of his beard, and he said, “You’re very clever, indeed, mortal! Very perceptive! It is too bad... if I could trust you... if only... but no, I can’t! Yes, there is another reason, but even though you are to die, I won’t tell you that! It’ll give me some pleasure to know that you’ll be wondering what that other reason is up to the moment that you start suffering so much you’ll have no thought for anything but the pain!”

  “Does this other reason have something to do with the English couple?”

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “Because they must have some value to you, otherwise you would have killed them the first time you had them. It would be easy
to find out if they were spies for Anana by injecting calibanite. And once you found out, you would kill them whether they were innocent or guilty.”

  Iwaldi made a smacking sound and said, “Very well reasoned out! You are indeed a worthy descendant of mine!”

  It was Caliban’s turn to be surprised, but he did not betray it with any change of expression. He said, “I know that XauXaz was my ancestor and I had suspected that his brothers were, too. But I did not suspect...”

  “The Grandrith family tree has more than one god in its branches,” Iwaldi said. “Even Anana was one of your ancestors, though she provided a son a long time ago, about the time the primitive Germanic speech was starting to split up into its North, West, and East branches. Which means that you have none of her genes, of course. But her sons became heroes of their people. They were as strong as you or your half-brother. But I was your great-grandfather, Doctor Caliban, though my genes seem to have been most prominent in another branch of your family, not in your direct heritage. Didn’t you know that Simmons, your colleague, was my grandson? Haven’t you thought about his extreme shortness, his massive trunk, his abnormally long arms and short legs? His Neanderthalish supraorbital ridges? All of which characteristics, except for his height, have been inherited by his son, Mr. van Veelar, doomed to die with you also. Then there is another illustrious descendant of mine, a second cousin of yours and of Simmons, a scientist who brought back some rather strange specimens from a high plateau in South America in the early part of this century. He also looked much like me.”

  “Cousin George Edward!” Caliban said.

  “Grandpa!” Pauncho said, sinking to one knee and spreading his arms out wide. “Grandpa!”

  Iwaldi stared at him and then smiled thinly.

  “Very well! Clown away to the last minute! Very admirable! I wouldn’t like to think that my great-grandson was a coward, though it doesn’t really matter.”

  “And you’d kill your own flesh and blood?” Pauncho said, rising.