The Beasts Of Valhalla

25

Deja Vu.

X-rays. Clickety-click-click.

For some reason, Garth and I had been separated for the biological testing. Each of us had been assigned a keeper with a control box; Garth had drawn the gorilla.

"Hugo, what's a friendly giant like you doing in a place like this?"

Too big to fit in any of the chairs in the small examination room, the eight-foot giant was seated cross-legged on the floor, his back against the wall and the black box in his lap. His head was bowed slightly, and he wouldn't look at me. "I don't feel like joking, Mongo," he rumbled. "I don't like having to guard you like this."

"Who the fuck is joking?" I snapped. I was rapidly losing patience with Siegfried Loge and his minions. I managed to twist my arm around under the leather straps that held me to the table, held up the back of my hand; the scales glistened in the fluorescent light. "You think this is a joke, Hugo? You think what's happened to my eyes is a joke? Those crazy Loges are going to kill Garth and me when this is finished. You were my friend. Why should you help them harm the two of us?"

Hugo raised his head, brushed his long hair away from his eyes, and looked at me. "They said you'd say strange things, Mongo. It won't do you any good. We've all been briefed."

"What?"

"I know what happened."

I glanced around at the X-ray technician, who was putting another plate in the machine suspended over my head. Except for her full beard, she was an attractive woman with a pleasant manner. "Do you know what he's talking about?" I asked.

"Please hold still, Dr. Frederickson," she said, smiling sweetly. "We understand, and we don't hold anything against you. Your brother should have known better, though."

"Uh, Hugo; refresh my memory. What happened?"

"Why do you want me to tell you what you already know?"

"Humor me. It helps to pass the time."

Hugo shrugged resignedly. "You were at Dr. Loge's first clinic, in New York City- "

"What?"

"You asked me to tell you what happened."

"Yeah; sorry. Go ahead. What was I doing in this New York clinic?"

"The clinic was for people like you and me with congenital birth defects. They did the same things there as they do here at Ramdor."

"Jesus Christ, Hugo, you think Ramdor is a clinic?"

"It is a clinic. The research Dr. Loge does is incredibly important."

"Research. Tell me, Hugo, are tests like this run on you people, too?"

"Of course. All the time."

"Shit," I mumbled to myself. "Loge is trying to bring Lot Fifty-Seven in through the back door."

"What?"

"Nothing. What's Garth's congenital birth defect?"

"He doesn't have one. He became accidentally infected when he tried to help you inject yourself with the experimental serum you'd stolen."

"The experimental serum I'd stolen. Oh, yeah."

"I'm surprised at you, Mongo. You were told that the serum wasn't anywhere near ready for human experimentation, and you were warned that it could have very dangerous side effects. But you got impatient-as if being a dwarf is any worse than the defects the rest of us suffer from. You stole the serum and, with your brother's help, tried to treat yourself. Now it turns out that the condition you and your brother are in may be contagious. That's why we have to run these tests, even against your will. We can't run the risk that you and your brother will infect innocent people."

"Aren't you and the others here afraid that you'll catch something?"

It was some time before Hugo answered. When he spoke, his bass voice was soft, sad. "For most of us here, our lives were over the moment we were born. Suffering in hospitals, or being forced to earn a living by allowing ourselves to be gawked at in freak shows and roadside carnivals, can't really be called living. We have nothing to lose. The least we can do is make sure that innocent children don't end up like us because of something you and your brother are carrying."

"Hugo, my friend, it's all bullshit; everything you and the others here have been told is bullshit. The truth has been turned on its head, and you're all looking down the ass end. The truth is that the Loges are trying to make the whole world into one big freak show."

"Dr. Loge said you'd lie."

Blood tests. Ouch.

"Hugo, are you still a religious man?"

"Yes," the giant replied, apparently puzzled by the question. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"You used to be a Catholic."

"I'm still a Catholic."

"You are?"

"Of course."

"You used to believe in the Trinity-Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

"Right," Hugo replied impatiently. "What are you getting at, Mongo? Why do you want to argue about religion?"

"I don't want to argue about your religion," I said, wincing as the technician, a fat lady who'd give Hugo a run for his money on the scales, slipped a needle into a vein for what seemed the fiftieth time; I had to be running out of blood. "I want to find out more about it. I want to know when the Trinity became a Quadrangle. There are two Fathers now, right?"

Hugo's eyes glinted dangerously. "You've changed, Mongo. You never used to make fun of people's religion."

"Siegmund Loge: don't you believe he's a god, or a new messiah?"

"Who's Siegmund Loge?"

PET-positron emission test-scan. Whirrrr.

"How long have you been here, Hugo?"

"A little over two years."

"Don't you ever read a newspaper, or watch the news on television?" "I'm not interested in what goes on in the rest of the world."

"What goes on here?"

"Research that, one day, will eliminate giantism, dwarfism, mental retardation, and dozens of other genetic defects. You know that, Mongo. You're just trying to fool with me."

"You ever see a tall, elderly guy with long, wavy white hair walking around here?"

"No."

"That's Siegmund Loge-this Loge's father, the grandfather of the kid."

Hugo's response was a disinterested shrug.

"What about Siegfried Loge? Do you think he's some kind of god or messiah?"

Hugo snorted; it was a most impressive sound. "Of course not. That would be ridiculous-and blasphemous."

"Hugo, what if I told you that Garth and I just came from a religious commune where they worship Siegmund Loge as God?"

"I'm not sure I'd believe you. Even if it's true, what difference would it make? Dr. Loge can't be responsible for what his father does, or for what some people believe about him."

"They have a solution for congenital defects, too. They believe Siegmund Loge is going to wipe out everyone in the world who isn't genetically perfect. Oh, and while he's at it, he's also going to eliminate everyone who isn't white and fundamentalist Christian."

"So what? They're obviously crazy; there are a lot of crazy people in the world. That's their problem."

"No, my friend, it's also our problem; your problem. There's a direct link between that commune and Ramdor. It was guarded by a man wearing the same kind of uniform as the guards around this place. Stryder London is their commander; they're called Warriors of Father. London answers to Siegmund Loge-and only to Siegmund Loge."

That got me an even louder snort. "Stop it, Mongo. You think I'm stupid? Stryder is just the head of security at Ramdor."

"Why does a clinic need armed security guards?"

"To discourage people from coming around and gawking at us. Also, there's a lot of expensive equipment here. That machine you've got your head in is worth more than a million dollars."

"Where does the money come from to buy the equipment?"

"Who cares? I'm just glad they have the equipment."

"What they're doing here is developing a biochemical weapon such as the world has never seen, Hugo. What's happening to Garth and me is what Siegfried Loge wants to happen to other people who are targeted. You're helping him and his father find out why it works so well in us, without turning us into instant jelly. International covenants are being broken, Hugo. This kind of research, this kind of weapon, is banned in this country, and in every civilized nation in the world. That's what you're involved in, my friend, and that's as simple as I can put it."

Hugo leaned forward. His face was flushed as he waggled a huge finger in my face. "I'm tired of this, Mongo. I don't want to hear any more."

"I'll tell you another connection between the commune and this place, Hugo. The members bring in items-some of them extremely valuable-to contribute to Siegfried Loge, who must have quite a collection of loot by now. They think they're bringing offerings to Siegmund Loge, and they view it as a kind of religious rite. Garth and I got the address for this place off a big poster taped to a wall in a room where they pack and ship the stuff here. Did you know that?"

"It's a lie!"

"It's the truth! Look around you, Hugo. Look at this place; look at you and the others around here! He's using you for genetic research, but you and the surroundings also keep him and his kid highly amused; you feed their obsessions. Ramdor is right out of Wagner or Tolkien."

"No more, Mongo!" His voice was so loud that it echoed inside the steel cylinder around my head. "I don't want to hear it! You're upsetting me!"

I winced when I saw him reach for the black box, sighed with relief when he took his hand away. "Would you choke me just because you don't want to hear what I have to say?" I asked quietly.

Hugo lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Mongo. I don't want to hurt you, but I don't want to listen to any more crazy talk. Dr. Loge warned me; the serum you took has affected your mind."

"All right, Hugo. Have it your way." Hugo was hopeless. "Is Garth all right?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen him?" "Yes."

"Why did they split us up?"

"Just to save time with the testing. You're too suspicious, Mongo. We're just trying to help you. You'll thank Dr. Loge and the rest of us when you get better and you're not crazy anymore."

Urine and stool specimens. Silence.

"Hugo, nothing's happening. It must be anxiety." "We're in no hurry, Mongo," Hugo replied from the other side of the thin partition. "We'll just wait until something does happen." "We're in the building on top of the cliff, right?" "Right."

"You have the run of the whole place?"

"No, only these test laboratories. I work on the dairy farm. Why?" "Because I'm certain that if you could see everything that goes on in this place, you'd believe my story."

"Mongo, I thought we agreed that you weren't going to talk crazy anymore."

"Okay, okay. What's with the gorilla?"

"Gollum?"

"That's her name?"

"Yes."

"Gollum's the name of a particularly loathsome creature out of J. R. R. Tolkien. Doesn't that pique your curiosity?" "Not really." Hugo sounded bored. "Can she really understand what people say?" "Of course," the giant replied, sounding surprised at the question. "And she can talk back with her word screen. She's really quite smart; sometimes I think she's as smart as I am."

That, I wasn't going to touch. "Who made her that way?"

"Dr. Loge."

"How?"

"I don't really know. Drugs, I suppose. It's the result of his research into cures for mental retardation. If he can do that with a gorilla, can you imagine what he'll be able to do with humans?"

"Oh, it boggles the mind; it would boggle anyone's mind, which leads me to ask why nobody-nobody at all-in the rest of the world scientific community seems to know a single thing about what's going on here. Do you find that strange, Hugo?"

"What do I know about these things?"

He had a point. "Okay, Hugo, forget everything else I said about the Loges. Just consider what Loge has done with this gorilla, and with the other one I met- "

"There are no other gorillas like Gollum, Mongo. Don't start."

"Fine. Just consider Gollum. Twenty-four hours after Siegfried Loge took that gorilla for a walk out of here, he'd be nominated for every scientific prize there is. He'd be hailed as one of the greatest scientists who ever lived- "

"He is one of the greatest scientists who ever lived."

"True. But, on the strength only of what he's accomplished with the gorilla, he'd be famous, and he'd be rich. They'd probably turn Harvard over to him for his research; he certainly wouldn't have to hang out over a bunch of burning coal mines, or have you people leading around a few scraggly cows. Now, why hasn't a word about that gorilla appeared in any scientific journal? Why doesn't Loge take the gorilla out of here and show the world what he's been able to accomplish, Hugo?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. Dr. Loge isn't trying to help gorillas; he's trying to help people like you and me. What's your point? What does Gollum have to do with anything?"

"Jesus Christ, Hugo! I'm trying to reason with you!"

"You don't have to shout, Mongo. And please don't curse. Have you moved your bowels yet?"

"I'm telling you that teaching a fucking gorilla to communicate like that is one of the greatest scientific achievements in the history of humankind, and Siegfried Loge treats her like a toy! He doesn't give a damn about the gorilla, Hugo, because he and his father are cooking up some juice that could fuck up the entire human race! Are you listening to me, Hugo?!"

"Mongo, aren't you finished in there yet?"

Galvanic skin reaction tests.

Zap-twitch.

"Hugo, my friend, they've got all of you here by the emotional balls, but they're also shoveling out enough bullshit to cover the planet. Do you know what evolution is?"

"No. I just know it's something I'm not supposed to believe in."

"Evolution is what's made all of us-normal or not-people, and that process has taken place over millions of years. We've gone through many stages, and there are traces of those stages still left in our genes-our DNA."

"I told you I'm not supposed to believe in evolution."

"The Loges are trying to find a way to unmake us, Hugo. Can you understand, Hugo? Siegfried Loge isn't searching for a cure to genetic defects, he wants to find a way to inflict massive genetic damage. What he's doing endangers every animal and plant on the face of the earth. That's why everything is being kept such a big secret!"

"Enough, Mongo!" Hugo snapped. "I've had enough! I won't listen to any more of your crazy stories!"

Sonograms.

Beep-beep.

"What's a friendly gorilla like you doing in a place like this?"

FUCKING WATCHING YOU

"A narrow interpretation of my question, to say the least. Can you really understand what I'm saying?"

FUCKING YES

"You know, you're a very foul-mouthed gorilla."

?

"'Fucking' isn't a nice word. It's unladylike."

MUST ALWAYS USE FUCKING WORD

"Why?"

MAKES MASTER FUCKING LAUGH

"Master is Siegfried Loge?"

FUCKING YES

"That figures. How did Loge teach you? What did he do to make you so smart?"

That got an unexpected reaction. Up to that point, primarily because of the bright expressiveness of the animal's yellow eyes and her facility with the screen-keyboard, talking to Gollum had seemed almost like talking to a human in a gorilla costume. Not any longer. For a fleeting instant the light in her eyes faded as if someone had turned a dimmer switch. She cowered, bared her teeth, and a rumbling snarl worked its way out of her chest.

Fearful that the gorilla might hit the joystick on the control box and strangle me by accident, I arched under the restraining straps and looked back at the technician-the fat lady. The woman shot me a hostile glance, then carefully stepped away from the controls of the machine and approached the gorilla. She reached out her hand, tentatively stroked the animal's shoulder. For a moment I was afraid Gollum was going to bite the technician, or literally knock her head off-but the animal gradually began to calm down.

Finally Gollum snorted, reached into a canvas shoulder bag she carried with her and took out a portable cassette player. Refusing even to look at me, she put the earphones over her head and turned on the machine.

"You upset her," the fat lady said to me accusingly.

"What can I say to upset you, lady? All of you here seem happy as clams, but that's because you don't have the slightest idea of what's going on. Can I tell you?"

"You can't tell me anything, Dr. Frederickson," the woman snapped, the eyes in the great folds of flesh that was her face glinting with annoyance. "I'm not deaf; I heard the conversations between you and Hugo, and I thought Hugo was very patient with you. Paranoids can really get to you after a time, the way they keep pestering you with their stupid fantasies."

"Is that what I am? Paranoid?"

"It's the drug you stole and injected yourself with. I understand that, and it's a good thing. If it weren't for my psychiatric training, I'd have slapped you in the face for what you said about Siegmund Loge."

"You've met Siegmund Loge?!" That got a good spike out of the microphone monitoring my heart.

"Yes. A number of times."

"He comes here?"

"Yes-to this facility. Hugo's just a farmhand, and Siegmund Loge doesn't bother himself with that part of the operation. That's just to keep the patients occupied."

"'Patients.' I love it. What do you do here?"

"What you see me doing. I run tests on the patients-myself included. As you can see, I have a glandular problem."

"Have you been all through this building?"

"No, and don't you start with me. Siegfried Loge and that creepy kid of his may be no great shakes in the personality department, but Siegmund Loge is an absolute wonder. He could never be involved in anything that was wrong or hurtful to anyone. He's the kindest, warmest, gentlest human being I've ever met. With people and things in the world the way they are today, it's no wonder some young people think he's holy."

Eye tests.

Howl.

There was no way my eyes could be examined without shining lights in them. It didn't kill me, despite a profound desire, but I must have done a lot of screeching, and I kept passing out.

The fourth time I woke up, the testing was over and I was apparently being allowed a rest period. There were no technicians around, and I was still strapped into the chair where they'd conducted the eye exam. The gorilla was leaning back against the wall, the cassette player cradled in her lap and the earphones over her head. She had a contented expression on her face, and occasionally she would waggle a leathery finger in time-I presumed-to whatever she was hearing.

"What are you listening to?" I asked loudly.

The question got no response on her keyboard-but she did glance at me out of the corners of her eyes. I motioned for her to remove the earphones. After some hesitation and a loud, impatient smacking of her lips, she did so.

?

WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT

"What are you listening to, Gollum?"

FUCKING MOZART

"Mozart?"

I SAID FUCKING MOZART

"You like fu… you like Mozart?"

MUCH FUCKING YES

"So do I. May I listen with you?"

She thought about it, finally heaved her chest in what I assumed was an indulgent gorilla sigh. She unplugged the earphone jack, and the strains of The Magic Flute filled the air.

"What else do you like besides Mozart?" I asked after a few minutes.

JUST LIKE FUCKING MOZART

"Why?"

MAKE GOLLUM NOT FUCKING SAD

"You mean Mozart makes you happy?"

MEAN MOZART MAKE GOLLUM

NOT FUCKING SAD

"You're sad when you don't listen to Mozart?"

FUCKING YES

'Why?"

FUCKING WRONG

"It's wrong to feel sad, or wrong to listen to Mozart?"

GOLLUM FUCKING WRONG

"I don't understand."

She stared at me hard, and suddenly her yellow eyes were filled with-a profound sadness. Her thick lips trembled, and I had the distinct impression that she was debating whether or not, or how, to reply. Suddenly the fingers of both hands flew over the keyboard.

I stared at the screen in disbelief, a lump rising in my throat, tears welling in my eyes.

GOLLUM MADE FUCKING WRONG

GOLLUM HAVE FUCKING PERSON FEELINGS

GOLLUM NOT A FUCKING PERSON

GOLLUM NOT A FUCKING GORILLA

GOLLUM FUCKING WRONG

"Oh, my God," I whispered in a choked voice. "You understand that?"

GOLLUM FUCKING WRONG

GOLLUM NOT FUCKING STUPID

And she put her earphones back on.

CAT Scan.

Mmmmmmm.

Whatever else they were finding in my body, the machines would have blown out if they'd been able to measure rage. I was getting seriously pissed.

"Loge hurt you very badly when he made you wrong, didn't he?" I asked quietly.

Gollum studied me for a long time from beneath her thick, bony brows. Finally the answer came.

FUCKING YES

"I'm sorry I upset you before. I didn't mean to."

FUCKING OKAY

"I'm also sorry Loge hurt you."

?

FUCKING WHY

MASTER NOT FUCKING HURT YOU

"He has hurt me, and he is hurting me and my brother, but that isn't the point. I'm saying that I'm sorry he hurt you. You didn't deserve it. Neither do Garth and I deserve to be hurt."

?

WHY MASTER HURT GOLLUM AND FUCKING PEOPLE

"Because Loge is a bad man."

?

MASTER IS FUCKING WRONG

"Loge is bad-he's evil. He likes to hurt. That's much worse than being wrong." I glanced over my shoulder, saw that the technician-a surly midget-was sitting by the controls across the room, thoroughly absorbed in an issue of Hustler. I turned back to Gollum, lowered my voice, "Will you let me go so that these people can't hurt me any more?"

She tensed, quickly reached for the keyboard.

FUCKING NO

FUCKING CHOKE

"Why not, since you know they're making me wrong and hurting me?"

HURT FUCKING GOLLUM MORE

MASTER KILL FUCKING GOLLUM

"Okay."

GOLLUM SORRY YOU MADE FUCKING WRONG

GOLLUM SORRY MASTER FUCKING HURT YOU

GOLLUM SORRY SHE DROP YOU ON FUCKING HEAD

I smiled at her, shrugged. "It's fucking okay."

GI series: Injections of irradiated barium, more X-rays. Clickety-click.

"I'm not going to call you Gollum any longer," I announced to my watch-gorilla after a particularly nasty spasm of nausea had passed. "The kid named you that, didn't he?"

FUCKING YES

"That's a bad name, and you're a good gorilla. I'm going to call you Golly. Okay?"

FUCKING OKAY

FUCKING SPEAK SPELL PLEASE

I said the name slowly, and Golly tried out a series of spellings.

When she hit the right one, I nodded my head.

?

HOW FUCKING GOLLY CALL YOU

"Mongo," I said, and spelled it for her. The gorilla did some fast fingering on her keyboard, assigned me a symbol.

MONGO FUCKING OKAY

Rest time.

Figuring that a watch-gorilla and my choke collar were sufficient to make me stay put, my last technician had not bothered to strap me into the leather recliner while he'd gone off for a smoke. Golly was slumped in another recliner in the small lounge. She had her earphones on, and her eyes were closed. She appeared to be asleep.

Moving very slowly, I eased myself out of the recliner and tiptoed across the room. I would have liked to try and snatch the control box for my choke collar, but that was in Golly's lap and it seemed best to let sleeping gorillas lie. I tiptoed past her, out of the lounge. I turned right and sprinted as fast as I could down a narrow, white corridor toward a swinging door. I didn't know the range of the control box, but it couldn't be limitless; if I could only get beyond it, I'd find a way to get the collar off and get down to serious business.

Halfway down the corridor, I felt the leather collar snap tight around my neck and begin to squeeze. I held my breath and kept running toward the door. My only hope was to get beyond range, or get behind something that was shielded with lead.

Anybody who wants to learn the hard way about oxygen debt should try sprinting while holding his breath and while a leather collar is threatening to squeeze his head off. Anyway, I kept running, legs and arms pumping, trying to reach the door. At least I thought I was running. Everything was beginning to look hazy through my smoked glasses, and a giant fist was pounding my chest. My head felt ready to explode.

Still, I was somehow convinced that I was making progress, that I might still escape. I kept feeling that way right up to the point where, clawing at the leather band around my neck, I collapsed to my knees, then fell forward on my face.