Charles Sheffield - The Amazing Dr. Darwin

“You have about the same cranial capacity, I’d judge,” he said to her quietly. She seemed reassured by his gentle voice. “But look at these supra-orbital arches—they’re heavier than human. And you have less cartilage in your nose. Hm.” He leaned forward, and ran his hand softly behind and under her ear. She shivered, but did not flinch. They sat, cross-legged, opposite each other on the piled skins.

“I don’t feel any mastoid process behind the ear,” Darwin continued. “And this jaw and cheek is odd—see the maxilla. Aye, and I know where I’ve seen that jawline recently. Splendid teeth. If only I had my Commonplace Book with me, I’d like sketches. Well, memory must suffice.”

He looked at the shoulder and rib cage and moved his index finger along them, tracing their lines. Suddenly he leaned forward and plucked something tiny from the female’s left breast. He peered at it closely with every evidence of satisfaction.

“ Pulex irritans , if I’m any judge. Pity I don’t have a magnifying glass with me. Anyway, that seems to complete the proof. You know what it shows, my dear?” He looked up at the female. She stared back impassively with soft, glowing eyes. Darwin leaned forward again.

“Now, with your leave I’d like a better look at this abdominal structure. Very heavy musculature here—see how well-developed the rectus abdominis is. Ah, thank you, that makes inspection a good deal easier.” Darwin nodded absently as the female reached to her side and removed her brief skirt of rabbit skins. He traced the line of ribbed muscle tissue to the front of the pelvis. “Aye, and an odd pelvic structure, too. See this, the pubic ramus seems flattened, just at this point.” He palpated it gently.

“Here! What the devil are you doing!” Darwin suddenly sat bolt upright. The female fiend sitting before him, naked except for her ornate necklace, had reached forward to him and signalled her intentions in unmistakable terms.

“No, my dear. You mustn’t do that.”

Darwin stood up. The female stood up also. He backed away from her hurriedly. She smiled playfully and pursued him, despite his protests, round and round the fire.

“There you go, Erasmus. I turn my back on you for one second, and you’re playing ring-a-ring-a-rosy with a succubus.” Pole’s voice came from behind Darwin. It sounded cracked and rusty, like an unoiled hinge, but it was rational and humorous.

The female squeaked in surprise at the unexpected sound. She ran to the heap of furs, snatched up her skirt, and fled back into the dark opening in the wall of the ledge. Darwin, no less surprised, went over to the bed of furs where Pole lay.

“Jacob, I can’t believe it. Only an hour ago, you were running a high fever and beginning to babble of green fields.” He felt Pole’s forehead. “Back down to normal, I judge. How do you feel?”

“Not bad. Damn sight better than I did when we got out of that water. And I’m hungry. I could dine on a dead Turk.”

“We can do better than that. Just lie there.” Darwin went across to the other fire, filled a bowl with mutton stew from the big pot, and carried it back. “Get this inside you.”

Pole sniffed it suspiciously. He grunted with pleasure and began to sip at it. “Good. Needs salt, though. You seem to be on surprisingly good terms with the fiends, Erasmus. Taking their food like this, without so much as a by-your-leave. And if I hadn’t been awakened by your cavorting, you’d be playing the two-backed beast this very second with that young female.”

“Nonsense.” Darwin looked pained. “Jacob, she simply misunderstood what I was doing. And I fear the red-man mistook the nature of my interest in the other female, also. It should have been clear to you that I was examining her anatomy.”

“And she yours.” Pole smiled smugly. “A natural preliminary to swiving. Well, Erasmus, that will be a rare tale for the members of the Lunar Society if we ever get back to Lichfield.”

“Jacob—” Darwin cut off his protest when he saw the gleeful expression on Pole’s face. “Drink your broth and then rest. We have to get you strong enough to walk, if we’re ever to get out of this place. Not that we can do much on that front. I’ve no idea how to find our way back—we’ll need the assistance of the fiends, if they will agree to give it to us.”

Pole lay back and closed his eyes. “Now this really feels like a treasure hunt, Erasmus. It wouldn’t be right without the hardships. For thirty years I’ve been fly-bitten, sun-baked, wind-scoured and snow-blind. I’ve eaten food that the jackals turned their noses up at. I’ve drunk water that smelled like old bat’s-piss. And all for treasure. I tell you, we’re getting close. At least there are no crocodiles here. I almost lost my arse to one, chasing emeralds on the Ganges.”

He roused himself briefly, and looked around him again. “Erasmus, where are the fiends? They’re the key to the treasure. They guard it.”

“Maybe they do,” said Darwin soothingly. “You rest now. They’ll be back. It must be as big a shock to them as it was to us—more, because they had no warning that we’d be here.”

Darwin paused and shook his head. There was an annoying ringing in his ears, as though they were still filled with fell water from the underground pool.

“I’ll keep watch for them, Jacob,” he went on. “And if I can, I’ll ask them about the treasure.”

“Wake me before you do that,” said Pole. He settled back and closed his eyes. Then he cracked one open again and peered at Darwin from under the lowered lid. “Remember, Erasmus—keep your hands off the fillies.” He lay back with a contented smile.

Darwin bristled, then also smiled. Jacob was on the mend. He sat down again by the fire, ears still buzzing and singing, and began to look in more detail at the contents of the medical chest.

When the fiend returned he gave Darwin a look that was half smile and half reproach. It was easy to guess what the females must have said to him. Darwin felt embarrassed, and he was relieved when the fiend went at once to Pole and felt his pulse. He looked pleased with himself at the result, and lifted Pole’s eyelid to look at the white. The empty bowl of stew sitting by Pole’s side also seemed to meet with his approval. He pointed at the pot that had contained the infusion of medicaments, and smiled triumphantly at Darwin.

“I know,” said Darwin. “And I’m mightily impressed, red-man. I want to know a lot more about that treatment, if we can manage to communicate with each other. I’ll be happy to trade my knowledge of medicinal botany for yours, lowland for highland. No,” he added, as he saw the other’s actions. “That isn’t necessary for me.”

The fiend had filled another pot with hot water while Darwin had been talking, and dropped into it a handful of dried fungus. He was holding it forward to Darwin. When the latter refused it, he became more insistent. He placed the bowl on the ground and tapped his chest. While Darwin watched closely, he drew back his lips from his teeth, shivered violently all over, and held cupped hands to groin and armpit to indicate swellings there.

Darwin rubbed his aching eyes, and frowned. The fiend’s mimicry was suggestive— but of something that seemed flatly impossible. Unless there was a danger, here on Cross Fell, of…

The insight was sudden, but clear. The legends, the King of Hate, the Treasure, the departure of the Romans from Cross Fell—at once all this made a coherent picture, and an alarming one. He blinked. The air around him suddenly seemed to swirl and teem with a hidden peril. He reached forward quickly and took the bowl.

“Perhaps I am wrong in my interpretation, red-man,” he said. “I hope so, for my own sake. But now I must take a chance on your good intentions.”