The Image and the Likeness

by John Scott Campbell

  III

  The leader of the priests indicated by a gesture that he wishedus to move along a narrow trail cut in the vines along the rim. Iattempted to get another look at the horror within the crater, but theledge of rock down which we had just fallen stood in the way. We wereguided into a pitch black trail which descended steeply into the foreston the outer slope of Mount Kosan.

  I lost track of direction almost at once. The trail zigzagged a coupleof times, and then I sensed that we were in a covered passage. After afew more steps and a turn, a light appeared ahead, to show we werewalking in a concrete lined tunnel. Our captors had split themselvesinto two groups, a half dozen ahead and an equal number behind. Soonthere appeared a metal door in one wall, which proved to be the entranceto an elevator. We all squeezed in, and were taken down a distance whichsurely must have brought us near to the crater floor itself. The doorthen opened, and again we were escorted along a concrete passage. Therewere many turns. Our captors paused before a narrow door with a tinybarred window. This was unlocked, we were directed to enter, and thedoor clanked shut behind us.

  For the first few minutes no one had anything to say. We examined theinterior of our cell, but found nothing more remarkable than concrete, asmall ventilator hole near the ceiling, and a wooden bench along thewall opposite the door.

  Martin found his voice first. "A human being," he said slowly, "as bigas the Woolworth Building!"

  Chamberlin, apparently still involved in his last abortive try at reasonsaid, "But it's impossible. The laws of mechanics--why the biggestdinosaurs were only eighty feet long, and they had to be supported bywater. It's a mechanical device, I tell you."

  "It could have been an illusion," I ventured. "Perhaps an imageprojected on a fog bank, or something similar--" Neither Walt nor I werevery convincing--not with the memory of that face fresh in our minds. Weall fell silent again.

  Several minutes passed, when abruptly we became conscious of a movementof the floor, slight but repeated with regularity. A shake, a pause ofsix or eight seconds, then another shake. Baker stood on the bench andput his ear to the ventilator. He heard nothing. The movement cameagain. Shake, pause, shake, pause, like some distant and monstrousmachine. I was reminded of the small earthquakes felt in the vicinity ofa heavy drop hammer. Shake, pause, shake, pause, and then a heavier joltaccompanied by a distinct thud. After that, quiet.

  "Obviously," Baker said, "they knew all about us." He was evidentlythinking out loud. "Probably picked us up on the beach, and then justlet us go on, clearing out the guards ahead, and keeping near enough tosee that we didn't use the radio. Why? Maybe to find out how much weknew about the place already. I daresay they know one thing now: wenever expected to find--what we did. Which brings us to our Buddha. Thebig question is, is it mechanical or--alive?" He paused. "I don'tknow--none of us can know yet--but, I'm inclined to believe the latter.Cady, what's your opinion?"

  I had forgotten for the moment that I was a zoologist. To tell thetruth, the whole thing had been a little outside of the type of specimenI was familiar with.

  "Its movements were lifelike," I replied. "They suggest muscular actionrather than mechanical drive. But, as Walt says, it's just not possible.Nature has placed a limit on the size of living creatures. The strengthof bones, the energy requirements, the osmotic pressures needed to movefluids through tissue. Besides, where could it come from? There havebeen giants--eight, ten, maybe up to twelve feet--but this thing is of adifferent order of magnitude. It must weigh millions of pounds. As azoologist, I can't believe that it's alive."

  Martin and Chamberlin had a few more remarks of the same nature, andthen the conversation died away. We waited. Eventually they wouldcome--the yellow-robed ones. When they did, we might learn more. I hadlittle doubt as to our ultimate fate, but in the dulled condition of mysenses, I didn't seem particularly to care.

  My watch had been smashed in the struggle, so that I had no idea of howlong they kept us in the cell. It could not have been too many hours,for the elementary needs of nature had only begun to assert themselveswhen the sound of a key came from the door. We all stood up. It was ourconductor of last night, the one who spoke pidgin English.

  "Good morning, gentlemens," he said with a bow. "You spend nice night,yes? Get plenty sleep?"

  We did not reply. Still smiling politely, he beckoned. "Now please tocome with me. Head Lama talk to you now."

  * * * * *

  Once more we traversed the interminable concrete corridors of thatsubterranean city, but this time we came out into a hall illuminated bynatural daylight. The walls here were neatly plastered, and the doorsmore ornamental.

  "Getting near the high brass," murmured Chamberlin.

  The last hall was terminated by a window and balcony, beyond which thegreen of a distant hillside could be seen. Before we reached this,however, our guide stopped at a heavy aluminum door and directed us intoa sort of ante-room, occupied by uniformed guards and a malereceptionist. A few words were exchanged in Japanese, and the guardsquickly and expertly frisked us, although this had already been doneonce. This ceremony over, another door was opened and we were admittedto a large and sunny office, whose big windows gave a panoramic view ofthe whole crater.

  Our eyes were so dazzled by the sudden burst of light, and our curiositywas so great to see that fantastic place by daylight, that we did not atonce see the man who sat behind a desk opposite the windows, watching uswith an expression of high amusement. Baker first noticed him.

  "Phobat Rau! So you're back of this, after all!"

  The other stood up. He was a short man, evidently Burmese, and wore atan military uniform. His smile revealed a bonanza of gold teeth, whilehis thick lensed spectacles glittered in the brilliant sunshinestreaming in through the windows.

  "It is a great pleasure to have you here, Professor Baker, althoughthere is in the circumstances some cause for regret. But all that in itstime. What do you think of our Buddha?"

  As he spoke, Baker was glancing about the room, and I saw that his eyehad alighted upon an instrument just behind Rau's desk. A second lookshowed it to be a tape recorder, with the operating lamp on.

  "Until we have more data," replied Baker, "our views are still as youhave them recorded."

  Phobat Rau laughed delightedly. "You're a good observer, Professor. Yes,I must confess I was curious about your reactions to our charge. So youdoubt that he is alive?"

  Baker nodded. "Under the circumstances last night, there was everychance for a mistake, or a hoax."

  "In that case, perhaps you would like a second look. He's right acrossthe valley now, having his breakfast."

  We hastened to the window. Rau's office, we found, was in a sort ofcliff house perched half way up the northern side of the crater, andcommanded a view of the entire area, now brightly illuminated by themorning sunlight. We easily identified the enormous furniture of lastnight, against the west cliff about a mile away. But we had littleinterest in these structures, monstrous as they were. For, sittingcross-legged on the ground before the low table, was the giant. At thatdistance he did not look so huge--in fact, with an effort we couldalmost ignore scale and perspective and imagine that he was a normalhuman fifty feet distant. He appeared a typical young Japanese, his haircut long in the old style, and wearing a sleeveless tunic like thestatues of Buddha. His face was smooth and serene, and he was eating awhite pasty looking substance from his great steel dish, using a bigspoon. Even as we watched, he finished the meal and stood up, causingthe whole building to sway slightly. He glanced about for a moment, hiseye lingering briefly in our direction, and then he walked in aleisurely way to the lagoon, where he bent over and rinsed out hisutensils. Returning to the table, he placed them carefully in theposition we had noted last night. He then straightened to his fullheight, raised his great arms far up into the morning air and began aseries of earth shaking calisthenics. After about ten minutes of this hewalked over to the leanto structure, entered and closed a curtain behindhim
.

  Rau, who had been watching us with great amusement, offered anexplanation.

  "His reading room. Books on his scale would be a bit difficult to make,so he uses microfilm and a projector. The microfilm," he added, "is oneight by ten plates, and the screen is two hundred feet square."

  We returned to the desk and took the seats Rau indicated.

  "So now," said our host, "you would like to hear a word of explanation,perhaps?"

  "Several, if you can spare the time," answered Baker with a drynessequal to Rau's.

  "It all began," began Phobat Rau, "on a beautiful summer's day in 1945,August 6, I believe, was the exact date. Perhaps you recall whathappened on that day, in the city of Hiroshima. If not, I will refreshyour memories. A bomb was dropped on that day, a new type of bomb. Itcaused a great deal of destruction, and killed tens of thousands ofpeople. Some died at once from the blast and heat, but many more, whohad escaped apparently uninjured, developed serious illness days laterand died. The cause you know, of course. It was called radiation injury,the internal destruction of cell structure by gamma rays emitted by thebomb.

  "Many strange things happened in that blast. In some, injury wasconfined to particular parts of the body, as the hair. Others were madesterile, in fact, the reproductive function and apparatus seemedparticularly susceptible to the rays. In many cases, the genes--thosevital units within the cell which determine growth and structure and allphysical and mental characteristics--the genes were altered, so thatchildren grew abnormally, with deformities or mental sickness.

  "But these things you well know. Afterwards biologists and physiciansand geneticists came from all parts of the world to study the effects ofthe atomic bomb, and the flow of learned papers on this subject is notended even now."

  * * * * *

  The speaker paused, as if inviting some comment or question. Seeing thatwe intended to remain silent, he resumed.

  "There was one case, however, which was not studied by westernscientists. In many respects, it was the most interesting of all, forthe bomb blast and the accompanying deluge of gamma radiation occurredjust at the instant of conception. As usual, damage was sustained by thegenes, but this damage was of a peculiar and highly special sort. Theonly gene affected, apparently, was the one controlling growth,although, as you will see presently, other structural and chemicalchanges took place without which the growth could never have occurred.

  "The infant involved was a male, named Kazu Takahashi. He was bornprematurely on March 26, 1946, with a weight of fourteen pounds sixounces. The parents were well to do, and the infant was given the bestof care, first in a private hospital, and later in its own home.

  "During the first few days of life, little Kazu was apparently normal,except for his prematureness and a rather great weight for a seven-monthinfant. And then the change began. His nurse first noticed an increasingappetite. He cried constantly and would be silent only when feeding. Heemptied nursing bottles in a few seconds, after he learned to pull offthe nipple, and was soon consuming a quart of milk every hour. The nursehumored him, in order to keep him quiet, and presently became afraid totell either the parents or the doctor just how much milk her charge wasdrinking. As the days passed and no ill effects developed, she becameless worried, although the daily milk ration had to be increased twice,to 23 quarts a day on the sixth day.

  "Kazu doubled his weight in the first eleven days, and at the end of twoweeks tipped the scales at 39 pounds. His pink tender skin was nowrapidly becoming normal in color and texture, and he was behaving moreand more like an ordinary child, although already of startling size. Bythe fourth week he was drinking 59 quarts of milk a day and weighed 145pounds. The parents--by now thoroughly alarmed--called in the doctor,who at once realized the cause of the abnormality. He could offer nosuggestions, however, save to continue feeding at a rate to keep thechild quiet. This, by the sixth week, soared to the incredible figureof 130 quarts a day to feed a baby now five feet tall and weighing 290pounds. At this point the Takahashi family felt that their problem wasgetting beyond them, and being Buddhists, they appealed to the localtemple--it was not in Hiroshima, but at a nearby town--for assistance.The priests took the child in, after a generous contribution had beenmade by father Takahashi, and for a time the embarrassing matter seemedsolved. The Takahashis went on a three weeks vacation to the south coastof Honshu, and all was peaceful, externally at least.

  "When the family returned, they found a note under the door urgentlyrequesting their presence at the temple. When they arrived, they weremet by a highly agitated chief priest. Something had to be done, hesaid. Things were getting out of hand. He then took them to the nursery.Here they beheld a baby that would have been seven feet eight inchestall if it could stand, and which had weighed in that morning on theplatform scales in the temple kitchen, at 670 pounds. After hearing thedetails of the milk bill, father Takahashi wrote out another check anddeparted hurriedly.

  "After the passage of three more weeks, a delegation from the templeagain waited upon Mr. Takahashi, with the news that his son now measured9 feet 3 inches in length, weighed 1175 pounds, and consumed the entireoutput of a local dairy. They politely requested that he take care ofhis own infant. Mr. Takahashi as politely refused, and at this pointbowed out of our story completely."

  Phobat Rau hesitated again and inquired if his statistics were boringus. Baker glanced out of the window and replied that while he ordinarilydid not have much appreciation of figures of this kind, under thecircumstances they had a certain interest. Rau smiled briefly andcontinued.

  "The summer of 1946 was one of increasing difficulty for the temple. Bythe beginning of July Kazu weighed 1600 pounds and cried with a voicelike a wounded bull. A number of trustworthy medical men examined him,and concurred that his only abnormality was size. In bodily proportionshe was quite ordinary, and, for a 3-1/2 month baby, his mentaldevelopment was, if anything, a bit ahead of normal. The priests took intheir belts, appointed eight of the strongest as nursemaids, andwondered where it would all end.

  "It was at this point that a member of the Buddhist priesthood fromBurma happened to pass through the neighborhood and heard of the infant.After being sworn to secrecy; even from other members of his order, hewas allowed to view little Kazu. Now this priest, whose name I might aswell admit was Phobat Rau, had perhaps a bit more imagination than someothers, and when he looked upon the little monster, he was struck by anidea which was to grow like Kazu himself."

  "The Living Buddha," murmured Baker, "Ye Gods, what a symbol."

  Rau nodded like a schoolteacher. "A symbol, and more. A machine torebuild the world, or conquer it!"

  * * * * *

  Baker chose to ignore this leading remark. He wanted more of the story.

  "So you took him over?"

  "Well, it was not so easy as that. You see, I was only a young priestthen, and had no resources to undertake such a project. But the more Ithought of the possibilities, the more sure I was. But first I had toconvince others, and time was short. The priests were near to theirlimit, and were about to appeal to the Americans. I secured theirpromise to wait until I could return to Burma, and then I flew toBangkok, to Rangoon, to every center of Buddhism where I was known. Itwas a sales trip, you might say, and for a time I thought that I hadfailed. But there were also forces working for me. The world wasuncertain. The communists were at the start of their triumphal sweepover Asia, and the leaders of our faith foresaw what lay ahead. On thefirst of August, 1946, a delegation of priests from eight Buddhistcountries journeyed to Japan to view Kazu, who was now a lusty 4-1/2months old, 12-1/2 feet long and of 2914 pounds weight. He was in finehealth, and when he slept the resemblance to the infant Buddha wasstartling. You gentlemen are worldly men, and I pride myself uponfreedom from the more naive illusions of my faith, but perhaps you cantry to imagine that our feelings were not entirely those of ambitiousschemers--that perhaps within us was some higher motive for the step wetook.
Our poor suffering Asia was in deeper misery than ever before, foratop her own famine and war had come also the troubles of the west.Under the Red flag millions of our deluded countrymen were taking armsagainst their brothers. Confused by a glib ideology, they were dailyturning more from the religion of their fathers. Although we did notspeak it, we all felt inwardly that perhaps there was a purpose in thisgreat infant--that, though we made promises with tongue in cheek,perhaps a miracle would occur to fulfill them.

  "And so we arranged to transport Kazu Takahashi from Japan to a safelocation where he might grow to manhood, where he might be suitablyeducated to take the place that we would prepare for him. The details ofthis move were not difficult to arrange. A special traveling crib 20feet long was built, and in this by truck, lighter and motor junk he wascarried by easy stages to this island. Here we established a greatmonastery, surrounded by rice and fruit plantations. Here we broughtphysicians and scholars to care for him and plan his education, and webuilt a nursery to accommodate his increasing bulk.

  "We did not know, of course, what his final size would be. We keptcareful records of his growth, but even after the first year he was notmore than ten times the normal height. But year by year we had torevise our estimates, for his growth soon accelerated beyond our wildestexpectations. For a time indeed we feared that it would never stop andthat he would die of starvation when the world could no longer feed him.For a time also we were sure that he would never be able to stand,through the action of simple mechanical laws relating to weight and thesize of bones, but apparently nature has provided a marvelouscompensation, for his bones, as revealed by X-rays, are of a density andstrength equal to that of steel.

  "His feeding was always a problem, although fortunately its increase wasnot beyond our ability to organize and plan. At first we supplied himfrom plantations on Yat and on neighboring islands. Then we were forcedto organize Neo-Buddhism as an implement to solicit contributions offood and money. Perforce we took many into partial confidence, but thecomplete story was known only to those on Yat.

  "On his first birthday Kazu was 29-1/2 feet long and weighed 30,100pounds. By his second birthday he could walk, and now surpassed all landanimals save the monsters of the Jurassic age, with a height to 51 feetand a weight of 158,000 pounds. During 1949, while the communists wereoverrunning China, our Buddha grew from 70 to 82 feet. In June of 1950,while the world watched the flames of war kindle in Korea, we saw himexceed the capacity of our million pound scale. In the year of 1950 alsowe built his first schoolroom and developed the system of projectedpictures and letters used in his education.

  "In 1951, Buddha's increasing appetite combined with the inroads made bythe communists upon our territory brought a crisis. He was now 200 feettall, weighed seven million pounds and ate as much as 75,000 men. Inspite of all our efforts, his food supply was dwindling and, worse, thecommunists were becoming suspicious. And so we were forced to adecision. We had to appeal to the western world. But to whom? ToAmerica, or to Russia? You all know the situation in 1952, the time ofthe false peace. We turned to Russia. They sent a commission toinvestigate, and then acted with dispatch. Russia would feed our Buddha,but on a condition: Neo-Buddhism must sponsor communism.

  "We had no choice. Now that the secret was out, Russia had Yat at itsmercy. So we agreed, but with one reservation. We alone should directthe education of Kazu. To this Russia agreed. Perhaps they consideredthat it was unimportant. Perhaps they thought that Kazu was an idiot,useful only as a symbol. But they agreed, and so his education continuedin the tradition of Buddhist scholarship. He is well read, gentlemen. Heknows the classics of China, and of India, and of the west also. Imyself taught him English. At the request of our sponsors, he hasstudied Russian. He is still young, but he has an inquiring mind. Whenhe takes his true place in the world, he may not always be the tool ofthe Kremlin. But of these things even I am not given to know."

  Rau paused, and indicated the window. Buddha was emerging from hisleanto.

  "Look well, gentlemen. There stands the hope of Asia. There is theLiving Buddha himself. He is only 19 years of age, but he stands 590feet high, and weighs 198,000,000 pounds. At first he will be but asymbol, but soon he will be much more. The time of compromise, I promiseyou, will not last forever."

  Rau stopped. We waited for him to resume, but instead, he pressed abutton on his desk. Immediately several members of the guard entered.Rau now addressed us in a new voice.

  "Gentlemen, you probably wonder why I have spoken so frankly of all ofthis. To be candid, to a certain extent I wonder also. Perhaps it is toget it off my chest, as you say. Perhaps it is just pride in what I havedone. But whatever the reason, the consequences for you are regrettable.Your spying trip to Yat alone is sufficient for death; what I have toldyou makes your return a complete impossibility. I am sorry, particularlyfor you, Baker. We shall do it as humanely as possible. Good day."

  The guards, as upon a signal, closed in on us. For a second I thoughtinsanely of flight, or a plunge through the great windows to certaindeath on the crags below. But there was no chance. Before any thoughtcould be translated into action we were back in the corridor, escortedby an augmented guard of priests, on our way back to our cell, anddeath. A death that would be--as "humane as possible".