Graham Masterton: The Manitou

Singing Rock nodded. He said: "What you thought you saw was the spirit of the machine, the typewriter's own manitou. In its conflict with the Star Beast manitou, it became momentarily visible while it expended whatever energy it had. You can rest assured that the Star Beast thoroughly destroyed it."

I frowned. "The typewriter had a manitou?"

"Of course," said Singing Rock. "Everything does. A pen, a cup, a piece of paper. There is a greater or lesser spirit in everything."

"I think we're getting away from the point," said Lieutenant Marino testily. "What we want to know is — how can we get rid of this Great Old One?"

"Wait," I put in. "This may be relevant. Why did the manitou of the typewriter come into conflict with the Star Beast? What did they have to fight about?"

Singing Rock pulled a face. "I don't really know. The spirits are as much in conflict with each other as human beings. The spirits of the rocks are in conflict with the spirits of the winds and the trees. I guess it could have been something to do with ancient sorcery against technology."

"What do you mean?" asked Jack Hughes, leaning forward.

"Simply that the Star Beast is a very ancient manitou, from times unknown," explained Singing Rock. "The manitou of the typewriter is part of the manitou of human electrical technology. They are bound to come into conflict. The spirit world mirrors the physical world to a remarkable degree."

I thought for a while. Then I said: "Supposing we had the technological manitous on our side? Wouldn't they help us? I mean — they'd be more inclined to support us than Misquamacus, wouldn't they?"

"I guess so," said Singing Rock. "But what are you getting at?"

"Look — if there's a manitou in every piece of machinery and human technological creation — we must be able to find a manitou that's able to assist us. The typewriter manitou was small and weak, but supposing we found one that was powerful and strong? Couldn't that defeat the Great Old One?"

Lieutenant Marino rubbed his eyes. "This is too much for me," he said tiredly. "If I hadn't seen eleven of my own men killed and frozen in front of my eyes, I'd run you straight round to the nuthouse."

Jack Hughes said: "What you want is a machine with tremendous power. Something overwhelming."

"A hydraulic power station?" I suggested.

Singing Rock shook his head. "Too risky. The Water spirits would obey the command of the Great Old One, and hold back your power."

"How about an airplane? Or a ship?"

"Same problem," said Singing Rock.

We pondered for a few more minutes. The floor began to sway even more violently, and pens and paper dips skated off Jack Hughes' desk on to the floor. The lights dimmed, paused, and struggled on again. The floor heaved some more, and Dr. Hughes' single Valentine card tipped over and fluttered under Lieutenant Marino's chair. I began to hear that monotonous wind noise even more distinctly, and there was a denseness, a closeness about the air that made me feel we were all going to suffocate. The heating system may not have worked too well in this office before, but now the place began to grow insufferably hot.

Officer Redfern came to the door. He said tensely: "They're still trying to break in, sir. They came on the radio and they're still trying. Lieutenant Geoghegan said the building looks as if it's swaying or something. He says we got strange blue lights on the ninth or tenth floor. Shall I tell the rest of the men to evacuate, sir?"

"Evacuate?" snarled Marino. "What for?"

"Well, sir, it's an earthquake, isn't it? In disaster drill, sir, they say that you're supposed to evacuate tall buildings."

Lieutenant Marino slapped the palm of his hand on the desk.

"Earthquake?" he said bitterly. "I wish it damned well was. Just round up two or three of the guys and see if you can help that idiot Geoghegan to get in. Take the stairs and watch out for the tenth floor."

"Right, sir. Oh — and sir?"

"Yes, Redfern?"

"Detective Wisbech told me to say that he's run the m.o. through Unitrak, and so far there's no precedent. No known murderer kills that way, sir. Not by freezing."

Lieutenant Marino sighed. "All right, Redfern." He turned back to us, and said: "That's police efficiency for you. Eleven men get chopped up and chilled, and we have to run it through a computer to see if anyone ever went around doing things like that before. What the hell is wrong with memories these days?"

Redfern left, with a quick salute. The floor was stirring again, and he looked relieved to have been sent down to street level. What's more, the wind noise was moaning even louder, and how can you explain to people who hear gales blowing that there are no gales, and that the wind is the wind of occult malevolence?

"Just a minute," said Jack Hughes, "how did your detective get in touch with this computer?"

Lieutenant Marino said: "By phone. It's available to all police forces in the state of New York. If there's anything you need to know about missing automobiles, missing persons, crime patterns, anything like that, it can tell you in just a few seconds."

"Is it a big computer?"

"Sure. Unitrak is one of the largest on the Eastern seaboard."

Jack Hughes turned to Singing Rock. "I think we have found you a technological manitou," he said. "The Unitrak computer."

Singing Rock nodded. "That sounds more like it," he said. "Do you have the phone number, lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Marino looked bewildered. "Now wait a minute," he said. "That computer is strictly for authorized police personnel only. You need a code to get through."

"Have you got a code?" asked Singing Rock.

"Sure, but —"

"But me no buts," said Singing Rock. "If you want to catch the thing that killed your eleven men, then this is the only way to do it."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Lieutenant Marino. "Are you trying to tell me that you can conjure up a goddamned spirit out of a police department computer?"

"Why not?" said Singing Rock. "I won't say it's going to be easy, but Unitrak's manitou is bound to be Christian and God-fearing and dedicated to the cause of law and order. Unitrak was made for that purpose. A machine's manitou cannot go contrary to the underlying intent with which it was fashioned. If I can summon it up, it will be perfect. History will repeat itself."

"What do you mean — history will repeat itself?"

Singing Rock rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "This continent and its Red Indian spirits were defeated once by the white manitous of law and Christianity. I expect they can be defeated again."

Lieutenant Marino was just reaching for his computer code card when the air seemed to go suddenly still. We looked around at each other uncertainly. The floor had stopped swaying, but now it was vibrating, very faintly, as if someone was drilling their way through concrete, floors and floors beneath us. Way down below in the street, we heard sirens and fire truck horns, and also the sorrowful moan of that magical wind.

Abruptly, the lights died Lieutenant Marino shouted: "Don't move! Nobody move! If anyone moves, I'll shoot!" We stayed frozen like statues, listening and waiting to see if we were being attacked. I felt drops of sweat sliding silently down the side of my face and into my collar. The rooms on the eighteenth floor were stifling and airless, and it was obvious that the air-conditioning had stopped, too.

I heard them first. Rushing and scurrying down the walls, like a phantom river. I saw Lieutenant Marino raise his police special in alarm, but he didn't fire. Chilled with fright, we peered through the luminous gloom of the offices, and saw them. They were like ghostly rats — torrents and torrents of scampering ghostly rats — and they were pouring down every wall. They emerged from nowhere, and disappeared into the floor as if it wasn't solid at all. There must have been millions of them — whispering and rustling and scuttling everywhere in a hideous tide of furry bodies.