Roger Zelazny - A Night in the Lonesome October

Mutilated animals occupied cages both near and far, dogs and cats without tails or the proper number of legs, a blind puppy whose ears had been cut off, a cat missing large patches of her skin, raw flesh showing at which she licked, mewing constantly the while. What mad place was this? I checked myself over quickly, to make certain I was intact.

At the room's center was an operating table, a large tray of instruments beside it. On hooks next to the door across the way hung a number of once-white laboratory coats with suspicious-looking stains upon them.

As my head cleared my memory returned to me, and I realized what had happened. The vicar had delivered me into the hands of a vivisectionist. At least Graymalk had escaped. That was something.

I inspected the door to my cage. It was a simple enough latch that held it shut, but the mesh was too fine for me to reach through and manipulate it. And the mesh was too tough to be readily breached by tooth or claw. What would Growler counsel? Things were a lot simpler in the primeval wood.

The most obvious plan was to fake lassitude when they came for me, then to spring to attack as soon as the cage door was opened. I'd a feeling, though, that I wasn't the first ever to think of such a ploy, and where were the others now? Still, I couldn't just lie there and contribute to medical understanding. So unless something better came along I resolved to give this plan a try when they came for me.

When they did, of course, they were ready. They'd a lot of expertise with fangs and knew just how to go about it. There were three of them, and two had on elbow-length padded gloves. When I pulled the awake, lunge, and bite maneuver I got a padded forearm forced back between my jaws, and my legs were seized and held while someone twisted an ear painfully. They were very efficient, and they had me strapped to the table in less than a minute. I wondered just how long I had been unconscious.

I listened to their conversation as they began their preparations:

«Strange, 'im payin' us so well to do a job on this 'un,» said the one who had twisted my ear.

«Well, it is a strange job, and it does involve some extra work,» said the one who was arranging the instruments into neat little rows. «Bring over some clean parts buckets. He was very specific that when we render him down, a piece at a time, for candles, there be no foreign blood or other materials mixed in.»

«'Ows 'e to know?»

«For what he's paying he can have it his way.»

«I'll 'ave to scrub 'em out.»

«Do it.»

A brief reprieve, to the sound of running water, followed, drowning out some of the whimpers and cries which were beginning to get to me.

«And where's the cask for his head?»

«I left it in t'other room.»

«Get it. I want everything to hand. Nice doggy.» He patted my head as we waited. The muzzle they'd gotten onto me prevented my expressing my opinion.

«He was a strange one,» said the third man, a thin, blond fellow with very bad teeth, who had been silent till then. «What's special about doggy candles?»

«Don't know and don't care,» said the one who had patted me, a large, beefy man with very blue eyes, and he returned his attention to his instruments. «We give a customer what he pays for.»

The other returned then, a short man with wide shoulders, large hands, and a tic at the corner of his mouth. He bore what looked like an odd-sized lunch pail. «I have it now,» he said.

«Good. Then gather round for a lesson.»

Then I heard it, Dzzp! , a high-pitched whine descending to a low throb in about three seconds each cycle. It is above the range of the human ear, and it accompanies the main curse, circling at a range of about a hundred fifty yards initially. Dzzp!

«First, I will remove the left rear leg,» began the beefy man as he reached for a scalpel.

The others drew near, reaching after other instruments and holding them ready for him.

Dzzp! The circle might well be smaller by now, of course.

There came a loud pounding upon an outer door.

«The devil!» said the beefy man.

«Shall I see who 'tis?» asked the smaller man.

«No. We're operating. He can come back if it's important.»

Dzzp!

It came again, more heavily; this time it was obviously the sound of someone kicking upon the door.

«Inconsiderate lout!»

«Ruffian!»

«Churl!»

Dzzp!

The third time that the knocking occurred it seemed as if each blow were performed by a strong man striking his shoulder against the door, attempting to break it down.

«What cheek!»

«Per'aps I should 'ave words with 'im.»

«Yes, do.»

The shorter man took a single step toward the entrance when a splintering sound reached us from the next room, followed by a loud crash.

Dzzp!

Heavy footsteps crossed the outer room. Then the door immediately across from me was flung open. Jack stood upon the threshold, staring at the cages, the vivisectionists, myself upon the table. Graymalk peered in from behind him.

«Just who do you think you are, bursting into a private laboratory?» said the beefy man.

«… Interrupting a piece of scientific research?» said the tall man.

«… And damaging our door?» said the short man with the wide shoulders and large hands.

I could see it now, like a black tornado, surrounding Jack, settling inward. If it entered him completely he would no longer be in control of his actions.

«I've come for my dog,» he said. «That's him on your table.»

He moved forward.

«No, you don't, laddie,» said the beefy man. «This is a special job for a special client.»

«I'll be taking him and leaving now.»

The beefy man raised his scalpel and moved around the table.

«This can do amazing things to a man's face, pretty boy,» he said.

The others picked up scalpels, also.

«I'd guess you've never met a man as really knows how to cut,» the beefy one said, advancing now.

Dzzp!

It was into him, and that funny light came into his eyes, and his hand came out of his pocket and captured starlight traced the runes on the side of his blade.

«Well-met,» Jack said then, through the teeth of his grin, and he continued to walk straight ahead.

When we left I realized that the old cat had been right about the seas and messes, too. I wondered what sort of light they would give.

When the wards were removed yesterday evening they showed that Nightwind had been by at dusk, trying to peer in. Also, Cheeter. And a huge, lean wolfish-looking creature. And the Things were all still held by their restraints, though struggling enthusiastically. I was feeling a little worse for my usage, but I forced a spring into my step and went and strolled past the church. Tekela was perched atop it and she stirred and studied me as I went by, but we exchanged no words. As soon as I was past, though, I glanced back and saw that she was gone. Good. I went home and slept.

This morning, I learned from Larry that Mrs. Enderby had run off to town as soon as word of Rastov's death became current. Later in the day, the Great Detective had shown up to view the remains and the premises. I brought Larry up to date on everything that had happened after I'd left him, and he assured me that he had not been by the house last night. He told me that he intended to rescue Lynette, but that she was safe enough for now. If he freed her too early there would be pursuit both physical and nonphysical, now the power was rising strongly; and more importantly, there would be time for the vicar to make other plans, jeopardizing some unknown innocent. The timing, he said, would be very important. Weakening the vicar this way, he decided, could well be his main part in things. I told him that I'd help any way I could. I rested a lot afterwards and visited with Graymalk.