Image of the Beast and Blown (19 page)

gown, high-necked, ruffle-bosomed, diamond-sequined,
red velvet, looked as if she had purchased it in 1890.

Mrs. Grasatchow, although as fat as two sows put to-
gether, had a remarkably white, flawless, and creamy skin
and enormous purplish eyes. When she had been younger
and thinner, she must have been a beautiful woman. She
talked now as if she thought she was still beautiful, per-
haps the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world.
She talked loudly and uninhibitedly about the men who
had died—some of them literally—for her love. Halfway
through the dinner, and two-thirds through the gallon of
whiskey, her speech began to get slurred. Childe was awed.
She had drunk enough to kill him, or most men, and she
only had a little trouble with her speech.
She had drunk far more than the Chinese, Pao, who
had downed much wine during the evening, but not much
relative to her. Yet nobody reprimanded her, but Igescu
seemed concerned about Pao. He was speaking to him
in a corner, and though Childe could not hear them, he
saw Igescu's hand come down on Pao's wrist, and Igescu
shook his head and then jerked the thumb of his other
hand at Childe.

Suddenly, Pao began to shake, and he ran out of the
room. He was in a hurry to get out, but Childe did not
think that he was about to vomit. He did not have the
pale skin and desperate expression of one whose guts are
ready to launch their contents.

The dishes were cleared and cigars and brandy and
wine were served. (My God! was Mrs. Grasatchow really
going to smoke that ten-dollar cigar and pour down a
huge snifter of brandy on top of that whiskey?)

The baron spoke to Childe:

"You realize, of course, that I could easily have had
you killed for trespassing, for entering, for voyeurism, et
cetera, but mostly for entering? Now, perhaps, you would
like to tell me what you are up to?"

Childe hesitated. The baron knew his name and must,
therefore, know that he was a private investigator. And
that he had been a partner of Colben. He must realize
that, somehow, Childe had tracked him down, and he
must be curious about what had led Childe here. He might
be wondering if Childe had told anybody that he was
coming out here.

Childe decided to be frank. He also decided that he
would tell the baron that the LAPD knew he was here
and that if they did not hear from him at a certain time,
they would come out here to find out why.

Igescu listened with a smile that seemed amused. He
said, "Of course! And what would they find if they did
come out here, which they are not likely to do?"

Perhaps they would find something Igescu did not
suspect. They might find two naked people tied to each
other. Igescu might have a difficult time explaining them,
but they would not be a dangerous liability. Just puzzling
to the police and inconvenient to Igescu.

At that moment Vasili Chornkin and Mrs. Krautschner,
fully clothed, entered. They stopped for a moment, stared
at Childe, and then walked on in. The blonde stopped by
Igescu to whisper in his ear; the man sat down and or-
dered something to eat. Igescu looked at Childe, frowned,
and then smiled. He said something to Mrs. Krautschner.
She laughed and sat down by Chornkin.

Childe felt even more trapped. He could do nothing
except, perhaps, make a break for it, but he doubted that
he would get far. There was nothing for him to do except
drift with the current of Igescu's wishes and hope that he
would get a chance to escape.

The baron, looking over the brandy snifter just below
his nose, said, "Did you get a chance to read Le Garrault,
Mr. Childe?"

"No, I didn't. But I understand the UCLA library is
closed because of the smog."

The baron stood up. "Let's go into the library and talk
where it's quieter."

Mrs. Grasatchow heaved up from the chair, blowing
like an alcoholic whale. She put an arm around Childe's
shoulder; the flesh drooped like tangles of jungle vines.
"I'll go with you, baby, you don't want to go without me."

"You can stay here for the time being," Igescu said.

Mrs. Grasatchow glared at the baron, but she dropped
her arm from Childe and sat down.

The library was a large dark room with leather-covered
walls and massive dark-wood built-in shelves and at least
five thousand books, some of them looking centuries old.
The baron sat down in an overstuffed leather-covered
chair with a wooden back carved in the form of a bat-

winged Satan. Childe sat down in a similar chair, the back
of which was a carved troll.

"Le Garrault …" the baron said.

"What's going on here?" Childe said. "Why the party?"

"You aren't interested in Le Garrault?"

"Sure, I'm interested. But I think there are things of
much more interest just now. For instance, my survival."

"That is up to you, of course. One's survival is always
up to one's self. Other people only play the part that you
permit. But then, that's another theory. For the present,
let's pretend that you are my guest and may leave at any
time you wish—which can be the true situation, for all
you know. Believe me, I am not telling you about Le
Garrault just to pass the time. Am I?"

The baron continued to smile. Childe thought about
Sybil and got angry. But he knew that it would do no
good to ask the baron about her. If the baron had her, he
would admit it only if it served some purpose of his.

"The old Belgian scholar knew more about the occult
and the supernatural and the so-called
weird
than any
other man who ever lived. I don't mean that he knew
more than
anybody
else. I mean that he knew more than
any other
man."

The baron paused to draw in cigar smoke. Childe felt
himself getting tense, although he was making an effort
to relax.

"Old Le Garrault found records which other scholars
did not find or else saw in these records what other schol-
ars missed. Or possibly he may have talked to some of
the—what should I call them? unmen?—some of the un-
men, the pseudo-men, and gotten his facts, which we shall
theory, directly from them.

"In any event, Le Garrault speculated that the so-
called vampires, werewolves, poltergeists, ghosts, and so
on, might be living creatures from a parallel universe. Or
a number of parallel universes. You know what a parallel
universe is?"

"It's a concept originated by some science-fiction
author, I believe," Childe said. "I think that the theory is
that a number, perhaps an infinite number, of universes
may occupy the same space. They can do this because
they are all
polarized
or
at right angles
to each other.
Those terms are actually meaningless, but they do signify

that some physical mechanism enables more than one
cosmos to fill the same quote
space
unquote. The concept
of parallel universes was used and is being used by
science-fiction writers to depict worlds just like ours, or
only slightly differing, or wildly different. Like an Earth
where the South won the Civil War. That idea has been
used at least three times, that I know of."

"Very good," the baron said. "Except that your ex-
amples are not quite correct. None of the three stories
you are thinking about postulated a parallel universe.
Churchill's and Kantor's were
what if
stories, and Moore's
was a time travel story. But you have the right idea.
However, Le Garrault was the first to publish the theory
of parallel universes, although the publication was so
restricted and so obscure that very few people knew
about it. And Le Garrault did not postulate a series of
universes which diverged only slightly at one end of the
series, that is, the end nearest to Earth's cosmos, and
diverged more the further away you got from Earth's.

"No, he speculated that these other universes were
nothing at all like Earth's, that they had different physical
'laws,' that many of them would be completely incompre-
hensible to Earthmen who might broach the 'walls' be-
tween the universes."

"Then he said that there might be 'gates' or 'breaks'
in the 'walls' and that occasionally a dweller of one uni-
verse might go into another?"

"He said more than that. He called his speculation a
theory, but he believed that the theory was a fact. He
believed that there were temporary breaks in the walls,
accidental cracks, or openings which sometimes existed
because of weaknesses or flaws.

"He said that creatures—sentient and non-sentient—
sometimes entered our universe through these breaks. But
they have forms so alien that the human brain has no
forms to fit them. And so the human brain gives them
forms to
explain
them. He said that it is not just a matter
of humans
seeing
the aliens as such and such. It is a mat-
ter of the aliens actually being molded into these forms
because they cannot survive long in this universe unless
they have forms that conform to the physical 'laws' of this
universe. The forms may not conform one hundred per-
cent, but they are close enough. And, in fact, an alien

may have more than one form, because that is the way
the human sees him. Hence, the werewolf, who had a
human form and wolf form, and the vampire, who has a
human form and a bat form."

This man is really putting me on, Childe thought. Or
else he is so insane that he actually believes this. But what
is he leading up to, that he is one of the aliens?

The baron said, "Some of the extra-universals came
here accidentally, were caught in the flaws, and were un-
able to get back. Others were exiles or criminals, sent by
the people of their world to this Botany Bay—this Earth."

"Fascinating speculation," Childe said. "But why do
these take certain forms and not others?"

"Because, in their case, the myth, the legend, the su-
perstition, call it what you will, gave birth to the reality.
First, there were the beliefs and tales about the were-
beast and the vampire and the ghost and the et cetera.
These beliefs and tales existed long ago, long before his-
tory, long before civilization. In one form or another,
these beliefs existed in the Old Stone Age."

Childe shifted to relieve his discomfort. He felt cold
again, as if a shadow had slid over him. That shadow was
of a hulking half-brute figure, bulge-browed, ape-jawed.
And behind it were other shadows of figures with long
fangs and great claws and strange shapes.

The baron continued, "There is, according to Le Gar-
rault, a
psychic imprinting.
He did not use the word
im-
printing,
but his description meant that. He said that the
aliens are able to survive for a short while in their own
form when they come to this universe. They are in a state
of fluidity, of dying fluidity."

"Fluidity?"

"Their forms are trying to change to conform to the
physical laws of this universe. A universe which is as in-
comprehensible to them as theirs would be to an Earth-
man. The effort sets up stresses and strains which would
inevitably tear them apart, kill them. Unless they encoun-
ter a human being. And, if they are lucky enough to be
from a universe which enables them to receive—telepath-
ically, I suppose, although that term is too restricted—en-
ables them to receive the impressions of the human mind,
then the alien is able to make the adaptation. He is ena-

bled because he comprehends the form in which he can
survive in this world. Do you follow me?"

"In a way. But not too well."

"It's almost as difficult to explain this as it is for
a mystic to explain his visions. You realize that my ex-
planations no more fit the facts, the true processes, than
the description of the atom as a sort of miniature solar
system fitted the true processes."

"I understand that, at least. You're using analogies."

"Strained analogies. But the theory says that the alien,
if he is lucky, encounters human beings who perceive him
as something unnatural, which he is, in a sense, since he is
not natural to the human universe. The humans do not
absolutely reject him; it is the nature of humans to try to
explain every phenomenon or, I should say, describe it,
classify it, fit it into the order of natural things.

"And so the alien is given his form, and a certain part
of his nature, by the humans. There is a process of
psy-
chic imprinting,
you understand. And so, willynilly, the
alien becomes what the human believes him to be. But the
alien still retains some of his otherworld characteristics, or
I should say powers or abilities, and these he can use un-
der certain circumstances. He can use them because they
are part of the structure of this universe, even though
most humans, that is, the educated, that is, the recondi-
tioned, deny that such powers, or even such beings, can
exist in this universe."

"You were enjoying your filet mignon and your salad,"
Childe said. "I thought vampires lived only on blood?"

"Who said I was a vampire?" the baron replied, smil-
ing. "Or who said that vampires live on blood only? Or,
who, saying that, knew what he was talking about?"

"Ghosts," Childe said. "How does this theory explain
ghosts?"

"Le Garrault said that ghosts are the results of imper-
fect
psychic imprinting.
In their case, they assume,
partially assume, the form of the human being first en-
countered or, sometimes, they result from the belief of a
human being that they are the ghost of a departed. Thus,
a man who believes in ghosts sees something he thinks is
the ghost of his dead wife, and the alien becomes that
ghost. But ghosts have a precarious off-and-on existence.
They are never quite of this world. Le Garrault even said