Charles Sheffield - The Amazing Dr. Darwin

“To give fair warning,” called Darwin over his shoulder. Then he was down by the water’s edge, waving at the two in the boat and calling them to look behind them.

Hohenheim turned, scanned the loch’s calm surface, then spoke quietly to Zumal. The black man paddled the coble in close to the loch side, running it to within a few feet of Darwin.

“I see no monster,” Hohenheim was saying as Jacob Pole hurried up to them. “Nor did Zumal—and we were near, on water. Not spying in secret from shade of heather.”

“There is a creature in the loch,” said Darwin flatly. “Big, and possibly dangerous. I called to you for your own protection.”

“Ah.” Hohenheim put his finger to his nose and looked at Darwin with dark, suspicious eyes. “Very kind. You did not want to drive us from loch, eh? If so, you need better story—much better.”

He looked at Darwin slyly. “So we are here for same purpose as each other. You would argue with that? I think not.”

“If you mean a sunken galleon, for my part I would certainly argue.” As he spoke, Darwin continued to scan the surface of the loch, seeking any sign of a new disturbance there. “I came here for quite different reasons.”

“But I didn’t,” said Pole. “Aye, I’ll admit it—why not? It drew me here, three hundred miles, that galleon, just as it drew you. How did you hear of it?”

Hohenheim pulled his tattered cloak around him and stretched to his full height. “I have methods, secret methods. Accept that I heard, and do not question.”

“All right, if that’s what you want, but I would like to suggest an alliance. What do you say? There’s a ship out yonder, and Dr. Darwin spoke the truth. There is something out in the loch that needs to be watched for. The people of Malkirk set no value on the galleon, but we do. What do you say? Work together, we and you, and we’d have the work done in half the time. Equal shares, you and us.”

Pole stopped for breath. All his words had rushed out in one burst, while Hohenheim listened, his black eyebrows arched. Now he laughed aloud and shook his head.

“Never, my good Colonel. Never. If we were equal, then maybe. Maybe I would listen. But we are not equal. I am ahead of you—in everything. In knowledge, skills, tools. Do it, my friend, try and beat me. I have power you lack, eh? Knowledge you lack, eh? Equipment, you ask about? Yesterday I was in Inverness, buying tools for seeing loch. Tonight it comes, tomorrow we use. Here, see for self.”

He snapped his fingers a few inches from Jacob Pole’s chin. As usual his gesture seemed exaggerated, larger than life, and when he opened his hand he was holding a square of brown paper.

“Here is list. Read, see for self—you will need every item on it. And you will be forced to buy in Inverness, two days away for you. By time you ready to begin, we will be finished and away from here.”

Pole’s sallow face flushed at the tone in Hohenheim’s voice. He shook off Darwin’s hand and stepped within inches of the tall doctor.

“Hohenheim, last night you impressed me mightily. And you did us both a favor giving us those potions. This morning Dr. Darwin did his best to return that favor, warning you of a danger out on the loch. Instead of thanking him you insult us, saying we made up a monster to keep you away. Well, go ahead, ignore the warning. But don’t look for help from me if you get in trouble. And as for the galleon, we’ll work without you.” He stepped back. “Come on, Dr. Darwin. I see no reason to stay here longer.”

He turned and began to stride back up the hillside. Hohenheim looked after him and waved one hand in a contemptuous gesture of dismissal. His laugh followed Pole up the hill, while Darwin stood silent, staring hard at the other’s lean face and body. His own face was an intent mask of thought and dawning conviction.

“Dr. Hohenheim,” he said at last. “You have mocked a well-meant and sincere warning; you have refused Colonel Pole’s honest offer of cooperation; and you have dismissed my word when I told you I did not come to Malkirk for the galleon. Very well, that is your option. Let me say only this, then I will leave you to ponder it. The danger in the loch is real, I affirm again—more real than I would have believed an hour ago, more real than the treasure that you are so intent on seeking. But beyond that, Doctor Hohenheim, I think I know what you are, and how you came here. Bear that in mind, the next time that you seek to astonish Malcolm Maclaren and his simple villagers with your magic flights to Inverness, or your panaceas drawn from the air.”

He snapped his fingers—clumsily, with none of Hohenheim’s panache—turned, and began to stump after Jacob Pole up the hilly path that led to Malkirk. Hohenheim’s jeering laugh sped his progress as he went.

“He’s still there, with another crowd around him. Now he’s taken a big knitting needle from one of the women. I wonder what he’s going to do with it? I could give him a suggestion or two.”

Jacob Pole stood upright, turning from the window where he had stooped to look at the open area between the houses.

“Here, Doctor, come over and look at this.”

Darwin sighed, closed his Commonplace Book in which he was carefully recording observations of the local flora, and stood up.

“And with what new mystery are we now being regaled?” He looked out onto the dusk of a fine evening. On the green in front of them, Hohenheim had taken the knitting needle and waved it twice in a flashing circle. He grasped the blunt end in both hands, directed the bone point at his heart, and pushed inward. The needle went into his chest slowly, an inch, then another, until it was buried to more than half its length. He released his hold and as the villagers around him gasped a bead of crimson blood oozed out along the white bone and dripped onto his tunic.

Hohenheim let the needle remain for a few seconds, a white spike of bone deep in his chest. Then he slowly withdrew it, holding it cupped in his palms. When it was fully clear he ran the length between fingers and thumb, spun it in a flashing circle, and handed it to be passed among the villagers. They touched it gingerly. As it went from hand to hand he took a small round box from his cloak, dug out a nailful of black salve on his index finger, and rubbed it into the round hole in his shirt. He was smiling.

“What is that drug?” Pole had his nose flattened against the dirty glass. “To save him from a wound like that—I’ve never known anything like it.”

“I think I have,” said Darwin dryly, and went back to his seat. But Jacob Pole was no longer listening. He went to the door and out, to join the group watching Hohenheim. The latter nodded as he appeared.

“Good evening again, Colonel.” His voice was friendly, as though the morning incident had never happened. “We’ll have no sea monsters, eh? But you come at right time. Now I will show antidote, cure for all poisons. So far, I have used only for crowned heads of Europe. Great secret, of high value.” He glanced toward the other house. “A pity that Dr. Darwin is not here, he might learn much—or maybe not.”

He reached into the tall cabinet by his side and took out a slim container of oily fluid. The pitch stopper came out easily, and he sniffed at it for a moment.

“Very good. Here is phial, see? Now, pass it round, one to another. Smell it—but not taste it. Deadly poison. If you want, replace with other poison—makes no difference to my antidote. I have made this extract from yew leaves. Colonel, you take it.”

Pole sniffed carefully at the bottle. “It’s terrible.”

“Pass on to next man.” The villager next to Pole handled the bottle delicately, as though it might explode. It went from hand to hand, some sniffing, others content to look, and at last came back to Hohenheim.