Part 11 (1/2)
”Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?” Bill choked out.
”You're seeing it all right,” Rick answered in a very hollow voice.
”What do you think?”
”I think,” Rick said stepping slowly backwards, ”that I am going to leave.”
”Leave? You mean that thing bothers you?”
”Bothers me?” Rick squeaked, then swallowed heavily. ”I haven't had so much fun since the pigs ate my little sister.”
CHAPTER 15.
THE PEPTO ABYSMAL NIGHTMARE!.
”What the bowb is that?” Bill whispered, gulping rapidly.
Rick could only gawk and gape, his face turning a curious shade of green as though afflicted with a sudden case of gastroenteritis.
The chamber was large and high, and a full quarter of it was taken up by the Thing, not including the appendages and limbs and such that stretched down to the rudimentary control board. It was a ma.s.s of arms and ventricles and tentacles and the various organs - brains and such - that were visible through the translucent skin. As well as the usual eyes and ears popping out in unexpected places. There were also indefinable organs of various size and description, all buried in the multicolored translucent, st.i.tchedtogether skin that stretched over it, or in some cases did not, exposing pulsing viscera or pumping giant hearts. In the very middle of the thing, a large eye a full yard across opened its lid and stared emotionlessly at the visitors entering its chamber.
”Behold gentlemen!” croaked Baron Barren enthusiastically. ”As you have no doubt surmised by now, normal technology simply does not work here in the Over-Gland. And so I have invented bio-technology.
Here before you is the first ever bio-computer. I will demonstrate.”
Inspired by scientific enthusiasm, Baron Barren stumbled from his stretcher and dragged himself over to the long table, where some of the fleshy organs extended onto its surface. They were held firmly in position by levers and calipers of wood and metal. Vibrating needles showed measurements upon graphs hand drawn with neat calligraphy. Baron Barren touched a b.u.t.ton, and at the end of a complicated organicwood composite apparatus, ten flints struck simultaneously, lighting ten candles. By this illumination, Baron Barren a.s.sumed his Dr. Krankenhaus persona, examining the positions of the needles. ”Hmmm.
Things seem to be in homeostasis in the machine. I think we can call up some images now.”
”Arrrr! Wait just a minute!” said Rick, finally able to speak. ”Dare I presume to ask just how did you manage to create this ... thing?”
”Foolish of me - I neglected to mention that I also hold higher degrees in advanced surgery, genetics and home TV repair. To be truthful, ho-ho, I also admit to having a bit of a reputation as an author. I supported myself through graduate school by authoring some books. I come from humble stock, my father was a Technical Fertilizer Operator -”
”My lifetime ambition!” Bill cried.
”Shut up. As I said, I have written books such as HOW TO TURN YOUR PETS INTO USEFUL HOUSEHOLD APPLIANCES and DR. K's DO-IT-YOURSELF BRAIN TRANSPLANTS AND GASTRO-INTESTINAL SURGERY DIET. So you see I had all the necessary skills when I found myself trapped in this rotten place. I only had to round up the essential biological ent.i.ties, brew up some tissuegeneration vats, sharpen up some scalpels, dry out some cat-gut for st.i.tches, then heat up some cauterizing irons. Then it was just a matter of slicing and patching together a number of creatures and rearranging an appropriate neuro-chemical system to support the bio-engineering devices necessary to my needs.”
”I've never seen anything like it before!” Bill said, then pushed his popping eyes back into their sockets.
”Nor will you again,” the proud inventor said. ”It's a one-off. Now. Let's see what we can get on our sclerascreen.”
Dr. Krankenhaus pulled a lever and fumbled with a metal dial connected to a rubber band, which in turn was plugged into what appeared to be the ganglia hooked to a central nervous system.
The eye in the center of the huge patchwork beast suddenly flung its lids open. It lacked pupil and iris and instead was a uniform, grayish white right across the entire eyeball. There was a frizzle of static across the sclera, and suddenly a picture started flipping on this ”eye-screen.” Static-noises and garbled sound warbled from two vibrating membranes below it.
Dr. Krankenhaus did some fine-tuning, and the picture stopped rolling. An image appeared of a man standing by a table, pouring a box of something into a bowl.
”Weedies, The Breakfast of Stars.h.i.+p Troopers,” smarmed the man. ”You sure as h.e.l.l won't want to eat it, but it will do wonders for the hydroponics lawn in your stars.h.i.+p's rumpus room!”
”There! You see, the Over-Gland picks up intergalactic television.”
Bill's stomach flip-flopped. He remembered Weedies, all right - and so did his digestive system.
Dr. Krankenhaus turned another dial, which in turn operated a device that tweaked at a number of large teats on what appeared to be the bottom half of a black pig. The channel immediately changed. ”A b.o.o.btube!”
explained the Baron happily as he noted the miffed expression on Bill and Rick's face.
There was a picture on the screen of a man holding a bottle and smiling. ”Galaxative! When you really need a supernova to get that mail moving again!”
Dr. Krankenhaus spun another dial, and suddenly the picture took on a whole different character. It was much fuzzier for one thing, with only vague outlines of figures, accompanied by dim voices on the membrane speakers.
”Visual interpretation of other energy information received by the Over-Gland. And here is the area where I am presently at work, gentlemen. I believe that if I can get some better focusing on line, I can discover everything I need to find out. This is the vehicle through which I know what I know about what has happened in the Empire since I was exiled by Delazny.”
”And what about this puzzle you mentioned,” said Rick. ”Exactly what is it?”
”Why, the exact location of the Fountain of Hormones, of course! The exact place which is the source of power here! If it was easy to find, do you not think that I would be utilizing it already? If it was easy to locate, do you not think that Dr. Delazny would already be tapping it to obtain the power he needs to rule the universe?”
”But why is it a puzzle?” asked Bill.
”Ah! Because the nature of the very laws of physics and mathematics are twisted here in the Over-Gland.
Allow me to show you! Trolls! Brings me out my chalkboard and my mathematical charts!” Quickly, the trolls hopped to it, rolling out the desired boards on squeaky wheels until they were within reach of the bent Dr. Krankenhaus. The Baron-Doctor picked up a pointer and a piece of chalk.
”Now, gentlemen, the thing is that the mathematics looks much the same as it does in normal reality, but it functions under more bio-chemical principles ... since this is, after all, just one great big psycho-gland we're in. Now, I've explored this, and I've renamed the tools appropriately.”
His pointer tapped a large zero on the chart.
”Now this in our understanding is called a 'Zero,' correct? Well, here, in Over-Gland Mathematics, we call it 'Zero' as well, but we mean 'Z.E.R.O.,' standing for 'Zenithial Entry Retro Orifice.' Naturally, the female principle of glandular mathematics! And numbers - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and so on are called 'members' - or rather, I should say 'integers' are called 'intercourses' or, well, something like that. Anyway, when you put these 'intercourses' in any parenthetical group containing one or more 'Z.E.R.O.' there is automatic 'multiplication' or 'sp.a.w.ning.' This glandular variation on the 'set theory' is naturally called the 's.e.x theory.'”
Dr. Krankenhaus began to chalk up numbers on the board.
”G.o.d, I'd hate to find out what 'division' is, Bill,” said Rick.
”Now the result of this sp.a.w.ning,” said Dr. Krankenhaus, chalking up an equals sign, ”is 'fractions' of course, and here is where we enter the nether world or 'quantum mechanics,' which I call 's.c.r.o.t.u.m mechanics' here in the Over-Gland.
”Now, if you have followed my arguments closely one thing should be perfectly clear by now. The essence of glandular physics! In the end, it just doesn't make any sense!” He pulled down a chart upon which were an innumerable quant.i.ty of strange mathematical chicken-scratchings.
”Here, gentlemen are my equations on the subject! Supposedly, the end result should be the exact coordinates of the nexus point, the nucleus of the Over-Gland! The so-called Fountain of Hormones which we all seek! The trouble is that each time I run this through my bio-computer here, I get a different set of co-ordinates here, because the G.o.dd.a.m.n 'members' always get together with the 'Z.E.R.O.s' and throw some new fractions into the soup!” He shook his head wearily. ”Well, now that I've explained all this to you, Bill and Rick.... Any idea about what the solution to the puzzle might be? Think of what success will mean! It will heal me and restore vitality to the Isthmus of Impotence. We'll both see Irma again, Bill, and Rick - well, I'm sure somewhere in the Fountain you'll find your Holy Grail Ale!”
Bill stared blankly at the equations, scratching his head. Then he looked over at the bio-computer, which was cranking and chunking away, making all sorts of rude biological noises in the process. ”I can add and subtract, and maybe multiply and divide a little if I'm not too tired. Sorry, Doc. Or Baron. Or whatever.
It's got me stumped. I guess Rick and I are just going to have to hit the trail again and start looking.”
”Not necessarily!” said Rick.