and that thing was too active. But he could drive it out,
and he did.
Its wet, black-haired and black-bearded head shot out
past the pliers handles. Its tiny mouth was open, exposing
the sharp teeth. Its forked tongue flickered at him.
With his left hand, he caught it behind the head. He
pulled it out slowly as it writhed and then placed
the head and a part of the body on the stool.
Pao sucked in his breath. Apparently, up to that mo-
ment, he had expected Childe to yank the thing out by
its uterine roots and so disconnect the parts of Vivienne
again.
Childe said, "Hand me that cleaver."
Vivienne watched him take the chopper. She did not
blink.
"Inject the proper amount of morphine in her," Childe
said to O'Brien. "You do know how to do it, don't you?"
"I do," O'Brien said. "So, you've recognized me. Did
I ever treat you? No. Anyway, morphine will do no good.
She is resistant to it."
"I don't want to inflict physical pain on her," Childe
said. "As little as possible, anyway. What kind of anes-
thetic do you have? I do want her to see this. She is not
to be unconscious."
"Never mind that!" Vivienne said. "Get it over with!
I want to feel the parting in its fullest!"
He did not ask her what she meant by that. He
looked down at the snake-thing, which twisted and hissed.
Then he raised the cleaver and brought it down hard
across the flexible spine.
Blood spurted out across the room. The head rolled
off the stool and fell on the floor. Pao picked it up and put
it beside the still bleeding trunk. The head moved its
mouth several times, and its eyes glared up at Childe as if
wishing him evil even after its death. Then the eyes
glazed, and the lips ceased to work.
Vivienne had turned gray. Her eyelids were open,
but her eyes had rolled up to expose only the whites.
O'Brien smeared an ointment over the amputation.
The blood quit flowing entirely. Probably, that ointment
was not known to Earth doctors nor used by O'Brien
in his Beverly Hills practice.
O'Brien bandaged up the body, and Vivienne was
carried out on the chair. The snake body dangled down
and scraped against the floor until one of the men coiled
it up in her lap.
Two women came in and began to clean up the mess.
Pao said, "What shall we do with the head?"
"Put it down the garbage disposal."
Pao said, "Very well. Will you be ready for the
ceremony tonight?"
"I'll try," Childe said. "Of course, Breughel emptied
me.
"Breughel maintains that you asked him to go to bed
with you," Pao said.
"I would think that his duty would have been to find
some excuse for putting me off. He knew that I should
be full again for tonight."
"That is true, but the temptation is very great. And
you did ask for what you got. However, if you require it,
Breughel will be killed."
"Let him live," Childe said. "Now, if you don't mind,
I would like privacy. Complete privacy. Turn off every-
thing, except the intercom, of course. Don't bring me
anything to eat until I ask for it. I want to meditate and
possibly to sleep later on."
"As you wish," Pao said.
Childe sat on a chair for a while. He had considered
doing what the Ogs wished, up to a point. He had in-
tended to land them on some other planet. Maroon them.
They would find themselves on a world which could sup-
port life but would offer them little except hardship. And
he would go on.
Pao had explained some of the results of the Grailing,
and he knew that during the voyaging ceremony he
would be able to scan through a part of the cosmos.
He did not know how he could do this, but he had been
assured by Pao that it was open to him. The implication
was that he could go on to any world he was able to see
during the ceremony. The idea scared him now, and he
had been frank enough to tell Pao that. Pao had replied
that he would not be scared during the ceremony be-
cause the power would make him courageous.
But now, he had changed his mind. He wanted to
escape. The chopping off of the snake-thing's head had
sickened him. He was becoming an Og by association
with them. If he continued with them, he might end up as
cold and cruel as they.
An hour passed. Then, knowing that he did not have
too much time to carry out the plan he had conceived,
he arose. He went into the bathroom and turned on all
the faucets. He used a nailfile to unscrew the grate over
the shower drain, and he stuffed the drain with sheets.
He put the plugs in the bathtub and washbasin drains.
Then he looked around for weapons and tools. The Ogs
had taken the pliers and the cleaver.
The nearest thing to a weapon was the jade statuette,
which he could use for a club. He could also use it to
listen in on anything on the intercommunication system,
since it operated without wires.
He prowled around, looking for other useful items and
could find none. He sat down on the bed and waited.
It would take a long time for the water to fill the room
as high as the canopy on top of the bed. He would be on
top of it when that occurred, since he had determined
that the canopy would support him.
The hours passed. The water flowed out of the bath-
room and spread over the bedroom floor. It rose agoniz-
ingly slowly. But the time came when he had to climb
up on the canopy and wait there.
The statuette in his hand spoke. "Captain, it is dinner
time. Do you wish anything to eat?"
"Not now!" he said. He gauged when the water would
rise to the level of the canopy. "In about an hour. I'll
take the same food as last night! Oh, by the way, when
does the ceremony start?"
There was a pause and then the voice said, "About
nine, Captain. Or later if you prefer."
"I think I'll sleep a little now," he said. "Be sure to
wake me about ten minutes before you bring dinner in."
When the waters lapped at the canopy, and wet his rear
through the cloth, he swam out into the room. The door
to the bathroom was almost under by then. He dived
through the door and came up to the airpocket between
the bathroom ceiling and the surface. Then he dived
down again. The ceiling light was still on, so he could
see somewhat in the clear water. He turned off all the
faucets in one dive and then returned to the top. Another
dive through the door, and he swam back to the canopy.
As he pulled himself onto it, he felt a shock. The
water slipped to one side of the room, as if the house
had been tilted, and then it rushed back.
For a moment the motion confused him. He was
panicked. What the hell had happened?
The voice said, "Captain! If yo
u felt that lurch, do not
be alarmed! It's not an earthquake! We think that the
front of the hill gave way! We're inspecting the damage
now! But do not be alarmed! The house is at least forty
feet from the edge of the hill!"
Everybody in this house was so engrossed in the Grail-
ing that they had forgotten about the deluge and its pos-
sible effects. Other houses were slipping and sliding,
tumbling down hills which caved out from under them.
But these people had felt themselves insulated from the
disaster. They had far more important matters to attend
to.
Now was his best chance. If a large number of them
were out of the house, looking at the slide, he had a
clearer road out than he had hoped for.
He spoke into the statuette: "I'll take my dinner right
now."
"Sir," said the voice. "It isn't ready yet."
"Well, send a man in. The slide broke a waterpipe
in here. It's flooding my room."
"Yes, sir."
He waited. He had slipped the statuette between his
belt and his stomach. He poised now, hoping that the
pressure of the water would spring the door outwards
even more swiftly than it normally traveled.
The caving in of the hill front had undoubtedly been
the main factor in making the house lurch. But the enor-
mous weight of all the water in this room had helped.
Now, if only things worked right.
Suddenly, the door swung out. The water churned and
frothed as it plunged through the narrow exit.
Childe hesitated several seconds and then he dived. He
was caught by the current and hurled through the door-
way, brushing it as he went by and hurting his ribs and
hips. He struck into the wall on the side of the corridor
opposite the door and then was shot, turning over and
over, helplessly down the hall. The house must have been
tilted slightly forward, towards the road, when it had
shifted in response to the cave-in. Most of the flood
seemed to be charging in that direction.
42
The water fell through the hole in the floor as if it were a
waterspout. It pounded the narrow platform, making it
shudder and threaten to break up. It swirled the raft
around so that several men, clinging to the side of the
raft, were crushed between raft and wall.
Forry, hanging on to another man on the raft, thought
that this time the house had slipped forward after another
cave-in. This time, it was not going to stop. It would go
down the hill, and everybody in it would be buried under
tons of mud. Especially those in this underground hole!
The worst part of it was that they had removed their air
tanks and so could not swim back through the tunnel.
Or could they? It was difficult to think coherently while
the water was roaring through that hole and the raft was
spinning and he could not see much because of the splash-
ing and spraying around him. But it had seemed to him
that the swim through the tunnel was a very short one and
that he would not have to swim under the surface of the
swimming pool to its end. He could emerge at once.
But the thought of going through the curving tube when
its side might collapse at any second unnerved him. Bad as
it was being shut in this hole here, he would stay.
By then all the lights had been extinguished, and he
was in total darkness.
Suddenly, though the raft was still turning, the turbu-
lence was much reduced. A light came on, and he could
see another light. This was shining down through the hole
in the floor. Water was still coming through but it was a
trickle compared to the first discharge.
Hindarf was shouting at them to be quiet. Miraculously,
he was unhurt.
Under his directions they erected the ladder again, and
he climbed on up through it. His men followed him. Pres-
ently, a man pushed Forry and urged him to get going.
Forry scrambled up the ladder swiftly but reluctantly. He
poked his head through the floor and saw a bedroom that
had been submerged only a few minutes before. The only
exit was blocked with chairs, tables, and the bed, which
had been swept against the doorway by the current.
The Tocs worked furiously to clear the furniture away.
Hindarf and another looked for Childe, but he was not in
the room.
"What happened?" Forry said to Hindarf.
"I don't know. But I would guess that Childe or whoever
was a prisoner in here flooded this place. When the door
was opened, he went on out, riding the waters. He may
have escaped."
"Good!" said Forry. "Maybe we can leave then?"
Hindarf looked down the hall at the wreckage. Several
tables and vases and a crumpled carpet were piled at the
corner where the hall turned. Part of the wall, where the
water had first struck, was broken in. A man with a
broken neck lay against the wall. He was identified as
Glinch, an Og who had once terrorized medieval Germany
as a werewolf. For the past twenty years, he had been
working in the Internal Revenue Service, Los Angeles.
Hindarf gave direct orders. Part of the Tocs were to go
the way of Childe, the Toc prisoners, and the Grail. He,
Ackerman, and the rest of the party would go the other
direction.
As they split up, they were hurled off their feet by an-
other shock. Somewhere in the house, a great splintering
and crashing sounded.
"We may not have much time left!" Hindarf said.
"Quickly!"
They broke in a door which was jammed because of the
twisted walls. They found the three Tocs, naked, hungry,
and scared, in that room. The next room contained Vivi-
enne, whom everybody except Forry recognized. She was
lying in bed, moaning with pain, a sheet over her. Hindarf
pulled off the sheet, and Forry's eyes bulged. A three and
a half foot long penis with an amputated head was lying
between her legs, its other end stuck into her cunt.
"So somebody killed Gilles de Rais at last?" Hindarf
said.
"Childe did it," Vivienne moaned.
"Where is he?"
She groaned and shook her head. Hindarf reached out
and gave a savage yank on the thing between her legs.
What happened next was something that Forry would
never be able to forget.
Hindarf picked up the many-legged cunt and smashed it
against the wall. "Here's something for your collection,"
he said, handing the head with its kicking legs to Forry
by the hair. Forry backed away and then ran out of the
room.
There were shouts and then shots and screams some-
where in the house. Hindarf pushed past him and ran
down the hall. Forry followed the others and eventually
entered an enormous room where about twelve Tocs were
struggling with ten Ogs. In the middle of the battle was a
g
lass cube with a dully glowing gray goblet on a pedestal.
A Toc shoved the cube over with his foot, and the en-
closure fell with a crash, taking the pedestal and the gob-
let with it. There was a desperate scramble, during which
the floor suddenly tilted with a deafening crash and rend-
ing of timbers from nearby. The cube slid down to one
end of the room while the combatants, knocked off their
feet, chuted after it.
Forry was knocked down and sent sliding on his face
for perhaps ten feet. He suffered friction burns on his
hands and knees, but he did not notice them at that mo-
ment. The goblet had tumbled out of the cube and come
to rest a foot before his face.
"Get it and run!" Hindarf yelled, and then an Og
woman, whom he recognized as Panchita Pocyotl, leaped
upon Hindarf from behind and bore him to the floor.
Forry would not have touched the goblet if he had
thought about the effects of his act. But, excited and im-
pelled by the Toc's order, he scrambled to his feet, scoop-
ing the goblet up. Even in his frenzied state, he noticed
that it felt extraordinarily warm and that it seemed to pulse
faintly. He also felt a resurgence of energy and an on-
slaught of courage.
He ran, even though he was not supposed to run. He
went out of the room and down the hall and then there
was a terrible grinding noise, a groaning, a shrieking, and
a rumble as of thunder. The floor dropped; he fell, though
still holding the goblet.
The room seemed to turn upside down. He struck the
ceiling, which cracked open before he hit it. The lights had
gone out then, but a flashlight from somewhere, maybe
held by an Og who had just entered the house, threw a
beam on the goblet and the surrounding area.
Half-stunned, Forry saw the goblet slide away from him.
A dark figure hurtled into the area of the light and
sprawled after the goblet. It was not clad in a diving suit
and it was not Childe, so he presumed it was an Og.
He kicked the Og as he rose with a triumphant cry,
holding the goblet to his chest. The bare foot—he had long
since shed his flippers—caught the Og under the cheek of
his right buttock. At the same time, the house lurched