"Brother Poole had momentarily forgotten his god, but his god had not forgotten him. As he stood there launching curses and hellfire, the monster, irritated no doubt by all the noise and movement, had come from behind and now clutched him in its titanic, larger claw, as firmly as its little brothers would hold a grasshopper. Suddenly, with no apparent effort, it simply closed the claw, and before our eyes, the two halves of the screaming Shepherd of the Island fell to the sand in a fountain of blood.
"The three below, however, had not halted nor seen this sight, but were now steadily coming up the path. I resumed my ineffective rifle practice, for with fresh screams of rage, the mob of worshippers surged forward again, and began to gain. But Joe changed that.
"He halted and allowed Oswald and Maxton to run past. Dumping the girl, who had never moved at all, to the ground, he reached for his belt and pulled out a bulky metallic object which I now saw for the first time in the firelight. It was the schooner's flare pistol.
"Aiming at the center of the oncoming crowd, he fired straight into them, and then the flare exploded somewhere in the mass in a blast of white incandescence. At the same instant, I had a stroke of genius, and almost without thinking, I shifted my sights and squeezed off a shot at that incredible horror, the Soldier, aiming directly for the center of the head, and just over the grinding mouth parts.
"In the twin lights of the flare and the still-blazing fires, I caught a glimpse of Hell. Blackened figures writhed in agony on the ground, and others, their hair ablaze, ran aimlessly about, shrieking in pain and fright. But this was not all. My bullet must have wounded the Soldier in its tenderest parts. Raising its great shell off the ground and snapping its giant claws, it rushed at the nearest humans in a frenzy, not gripping and holding, but instead slashing and flailing about with its colossal pincers. That a creature of its bulk could move with such speed was a revelation to me, of an unsought kind. I remember seeing a screaming child crushed flat by a great leg.
"I was no longer firing, but simply watching the base of the path with one eye and the terrible scene below with the other. In only a few seconds, Maxton's and Oswald's heads appeared just below me, as they climbed panting from the inferno below.
"A little behind them came Joe, reloading as he ran and checking his backtrail as he paused at the bend in the path. The girl was gone.
"I rose and covered the path behind them as they reached level ground. 'That lunatic girl got up and ran back into the crowd,' gasped Joe. 'To hell with her. Let's get out of here.'
"With me to the rear covering the retreat, we stumbled off down the track to the main road. In a minute the edge of the cliff was lost to view, and only the red glow on the leaves and the appalling sounds remained to tell us of what we had left behind. Breathless with shock and fright, we ran on at our best speed under the stars and trees until we reached the road and only a far-off wailing came to our ears.
"As we ran, I tried to make some sense out of what I had seen. In only a few moments, a maze of jumbled thoughts poured through me. How had that incredible thing been grown? How long had it lived? How many people had died to feed it? As the sound of anguished voices died away, my brain simply gave up, and I devoted myself to breathing and moving. Thinking back now, I believe that somehow, through their insane religion, the islanders had created a miracle of biology, taking a tiny animal and forcing its size somehow until no natural sea shell would contain it, and then building artificial ones to house its increased growth. But now, of course, no one will ever know the answers.
"There was no pursuit, I may say. The whole population of the island had been in that shambles of a pit, and we simply walked, for we could no longer run, back to the town and along the beach to our piled and tied life preservers. Within an hour of leaving the Amphitheatre of the Crab, we were climbing wearily over the side of the schooner. It took us only a few minutes to start the engine and get in the anchor, and then we were underway. Checking my watch, I found it was 4:30 a.m., although it seemed that a week had gone by.
"At blazing dawn, the island was only a faint blur on the horizon, which soon sank into the sea, leaving us feeling that we had been in a bad dream.
"No, we never called at Dominica. The four of us talked it over and decided not to.
"Look here, you fellows, we had probably killed, at a minimum, twenty or so souls, directly by flare or gunfire, and more still through the agency of the Soldier. By the time any representatives of the law arrived, what evidence would they find in our favor? Whatever governing group or person took over from Poole would have the whole island behind him or it. Who would believe our story? No one.
"No, we did nothing, at least at the time. We sent an anonymous letter to the Colonial Office and a copy to the Dominican Administrator later on, saying nothing at all about giant crabs, but demanding an inquiry into voodoo murders and local affairs generally. I have never heard that anything came of it, and as I told you earlier, the people were almost entirely wiped out by the hurricane of the following year.
"But I don't eat lobster or crab. It came too close to being the other way round, you see? Anyone care for bridge?"
Williams managed to grunt. We would hear from him later on, no doubt.
* * * * * *
Book information
the
Peculiar Exploits
of
Brigadier Ffellowes
Who is Brigadier Ffellowes? To quote one of his listeners at the club, "He seemed to have served in every branch of Her Majesty's forces at one time or another, including all knows forms of Intelligence." The Brigadier himself will admit only to an artillery commission, yet none of his stories has anything to do with artillery.
They are however, about the unnatural, about strange gods forgotten by recent civilizations, about drums beating under the tropical moon, weird cries, and eldritch howls and rites that civilized men thought had died with the building of the pyramids.
Ffellowes is a catalyst, a focal point of dark forces, a man to whom things happen. Wherever he goes, on vacation or on routine business, he enters a world most people never see, except in their darkest dreams. Monsters pursue him, humans lay traps for him, supernatural beasts seek his destruction while the kindly, urbane, bluff soldier threads his way through a labyrinth of hideous perils like a tightrope walker, his iron nerve and years of experience his only defense against the powers and beings that prowl the lost fringes of the world. Sometimes the menace is physical, but sometimes the soul itself is in danger. For Ffellowes has tackled powers beyond any physical law, powers whose aim is to obliterate the human spirit.
Those to whom the retired soldier tells his stories often start by trying to scoff. But, as the tale continues, the room silences, save for the tense breathing of men who cannot believe what they are hearing, and who cannot stop listening either, until the soft voice stops. Then, slowly, the real, everyday world comes back into focus.
Listen to Ffellowes and see how well you sleep afterward.
THE AUTHOR
Sterling Lanier is a regular contributor to Fantasy and Science Fiction magazine, Analog, If, and Galaxy, and is the author of The War for the Lot, a children's book. A full-time sculptor, he lives with his wife and two children in Sarasota, Florida.
JACKET DESIGN BY ENRICO SCULL
WALKER AND COMPANY
720 Fifth Avenue
New York, New York 10019
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN: 0-8027-5548-8
the PeculiarExploits
of brigadier
Ffellowes
STERLING
LANIER
Walker and Company
New York
Copyright © 1972 by Sterling Lanier
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher.
First published in the United States of America in 1971 by the Walker Publishing Company, Inc.
Published simultaneously in Canada by Fitzhenry & Whiteside, Limited, Toronto.
ISBN: 0-8027-5548-8
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 74-188477
Printed in the United States of America.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
"The Kings of the Sea" appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for November, 1968. Copyright, 1968 by The Mercury Press, Inc. Transferred to Sterling Lanier in 1971.
"Fraternity Brother" appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for August, 1969. Copyright, 1969 by The Mercury Press, Inc. Transferred to Sterling Lanier in 1971.
"The Leftovers" appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for March, 1969. Copyright, 1969 by The Mercury Press, Inc. Transferred to Sterling Lanier in 1971.
"Soldier Key" appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for August, 1968. Copyright, 1968 by The Mercury Press, Inc. Transferred to Sterling Lanier in 1971.
"A Feminine Jurisdiction" appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for November, 1969. Copyright, 1969 by The Mercury Press, Inc. Transferred to Sterling Lanier in 1971.
"His Only Safari" appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for February, 1970. Copyright, 1970 by The Mercury Press, Inc. Transferred to Sterling Lanier in 1971.
"His Coat So Gay" appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction for July, 1970. Copyright, 1970 by The Mercury Press, Inc. Transferred to Sterling Lanier in 1971.
For my father, Captain Berwick Bruce Lanier, U.S.N.,
who once read me stories of another Brigadier.
The Peculiar Exploits of Brigadier Ffellowes Page 18
