Brian Aldiss - The Monster Trilogy

On a large wooden table much like a butcher’s slab lay a naked male body streaked with dirt. The genitals were scabbed, and whole areas of stomach and chest were so mottled with rashes and ulcers they resembled areas of the Moon’s surface.

The doctor had sawn off the top of the skull, revealing the brain. Blood still seeped from the cavity into a sink.

‘Get nearer and have a good look,’ Dr Kindness said. ‘Light’s rather bad in here. It’s not many people who get the chance to see a human brain. Seat of all wisdom and all wickedness … What do you observe?’

The ginger man leaned over and peered into the skull.

Rather faintly, he said, ‘I observe that the poor feller’s good and dead, doctor. I suppose the corpse will get a decent burial?’

‘The asylum will dispose of it.’

‘I also observe that the brain seems to be rather small. Is that so?’

Dr Kindness nodded. ‘Poke about in there if you wish. Here’s a spatula. You’re correct, of course. That’s an effect of tertiary syphilis. The brain shrivels in many cases. Like an orange going bad. GPI follows – General Paralysis of the Insane.’

The doctor smote himself on the chest and, in so doing, awoke a husky cough. When he had recovered, he said, ‘We doctors are fighting one of mankind’s ancient scourges, sir. Satan and his legions now descend on us in modern form, as minuscule protozoa. As you probably know, this disease threatens the very foundations of the British Empire. Indeed, the Contagious Diseases Acts of the 1860s were passed in order to protect the young men of our army and navy from the prostitutes who spread VD.’

At the mention of prostitutes, the ginger man did a lot of head shaking and tut-tutting. ‘Terrible, terrible it is. And the prostitutes must get it from the men.’

‘The men get it from the prostitutes,’ said Dr Kindness, sternly.

A small silence fell, in which Dr Kindness cleared his throat.

‘And there’s no cure once you’ve contracted it?’ said the ginger man, with a terrified expression.

‘If treated early enough … Otherwise …’ The doctor removed his pipe to utter what was intended to be a laugh. ‘Many of the inmates of this institution die of GPI. Men and women. If you’d like to come back tomorrow, I’ll be able to show you a really excellent corpse of an old woman in her sixties. Mad as a hatter the last eight years.’

‘Thanks, doctor, but I’m busy tomorrow. Sorry to take up so much of your time.’ He thrust his hands deep in his pockets, in an effort to still their trembling.

As he hurried from the bleak building with all its stone wings and stone walls and stony windows, he muttered a verse from Psalm XXVI to himself. ‘Oh shut not up my soul with the sinners: nor my life with the bloodthirsty …’

And as he climbed into his waiting carriage, he said aloud, ‘Holy Lord, but I need a drink. It’s a terrible way for a man to end up.’

Bodenland and Waldgrave were in the construction wing consulting with senior mechanics when a call came through from Bodenland’s secretary, Rose Gladwin, that Bernard Clift wanted to see him urgently.

‘I’ll be there, Rose.’

He could see Clift through a glass door before Clift saw his approach. The younger man still wore the dusty clothes he had had on at Old John in Utah. His whole manner suggested excitement, as he paced back and forth in the waiting room with a springy step, punching the palm of one hand with the fist of the other, and talking to himself with downward gaze as if rehearsing a speech.

‘You’ll wonder what I’m doing in Dallas,’ he began, almost without preamble, as Bodenland went in. ‘I’m on my way to PAA ’99 in Houston. Progress in Advanced Archaeology. We’re still fighting a rump of idiots who think Darwin was the devil. I’ve been scheduled to speak for some months. Well, I’m going to announce that I’ve uncovered a humanoid creature going back some sixty-five million years. I’m in for the Spanish Inquisition, and I know it.’

‘I thought you’d come to inspect our inertial project,’ Bodenland said, smiling.

Clift looked blank. ‘I wanted to see you because I’ve had a rethink about secrecy in the last forty-eight hours. Our security broke down. The students told the tale to a local radio station. I don’t want a garbled message getting about. I have to ask you for some support, Joe – I mean financial. My university won’t fund me on this.’

‘You asked them and they turned you down?’ He saw by Clift’s expression that his guess was correct. ‘They said you were crazy? What makes you think I don’t think you’re crazy? Come and have a coffee, Bernie, and let me talk you out of this.’

Clift shook his head exasperatedly, but allowed himself to be led into the secretary’s room, where he sank into a chair and sipped black coffee.

‘The experts I told you about – both able young men from the archaeological research departments of the museums in Chicago and Drumheller – took a look at the evidence. Of course they’re cautious. They have to make reports. But I think I have won their backing. They will be at Houston, at PAA ’99. Don’t shake your head, Joe. Look at this.’

He jumped up, almost upsetting his cup. From his briefcase he spilled on the table black-and-white photos of the site and the grave, taken from all angles.

‘There’s no way this can be a hoax, Joe.’ He made an agitated movement. ‘It would be to your company’s advantage to associate yourself with this momentous discovery. I’m positive there was a – at least a pseudo-human species contemporaneous with the duck-billed dinosaurs and other giant herbivores and, of course, with major predators such as Tyrannosaurus Rex. I’m going to overturn scientific knowledge just as Lyell and Darwin and others overturned the grip of false religion in the nineteenth century. You realize the amount we know for sure about the Cretaceous is virtually all contained in a lorry-load of old bones? The rest is guesswork. Inspired imagination.’

Bodenland interrupted his eloquence. ‘Look beyond your personal excitement. Suppose you were taken seriously in Houston. Think of the effect on the stock market —’

Clift jumped up, heedlessly upsetting his coffee. ‘I change the world and you worry about the Dow Jones Index? Joe, this isn’t like you! Grasp the new reality.’

‘My shareholders would shoot me if —’

‘Here’s a kind of human with burial customs not unlike ours – flowers in the grave, ochre, even some kind of meaningful symbol on the coffin lid – but below the K/T boundary. Maybe it developed from some offshoot of early dinosaurs. I don’t know, but I tell you that this is – well, it’s greater than the discovery of a new planet, it’s —’

‘Hold it, Bernie,’ said Joe, laughing. ‘I do see that it might be all you say, and more – if it proved to be true. But how could it be true? You want it to be true. But suppose it’s like the Piltdown man, just a hoax. Something some of those brighter students of yours tried on for fun … I can’t possible associate this organization with it at this early stage. We’ve got responsibilities. If you want a few hundred bucks, I’d be glad —’

Clift looked angry. ‘Joe, are you hearing me? I just told you, this is no fucking hoax. How many of the world’s great discoveries have been laughed at on first appearance? Remember how men thought that flying machines were impossible – and continued to do so even after the first flying machine had left the ground? Remember how the great Priestley discovered the role of oxygen in combustion – yet still believed in the old phlogiston theory?’

‘Okay, okay.’ Bodenland raised his hands for peace. ‘Quite contrary to Priestley’s case, in this case popular mythology is entirely on your side. The comic strips and movies have always pretended that mankind and dinosaurs co-existed. You’re just claiming that Fred Flintstone was a real live actual person.’