Flaming Zeppelins (19 page)

Jack looked sharply at Doctor Momo.

Twenty-six…

“Doctor,” Jack said.

But it was too late. Momo still had a certain power of command, and he had offered the Lion Man what he wanted.

Meat.

Twenty-seven…

The Lion Man sprang on Jack. The meat eaters leapt, ripping. Jack screamed. Briefly.

The nonmeat eaters cowered at the back of the crowd.

While the frenzy went on, Doctor Momo slipped away from the huddle, slid through a clutch of trees, broke for the beach.

Twenty-eight…

The
Naughty Lass
was still on the surface, cruising for deep water.

Twenty-nine…

Thirty…

The beasts ate in a fury. They tore off Jack's head. It bounced above the crowd, every hand and paw reaching up to poke it. Soon they were kicking Jack's head about the clearing.

Thirty-one…

Thirty-two…

Doctor Momo reached a pile of black rocks on the beach. They were built up high. Odd. Unnatural looking.

Because they were.

He bent over, pulled at one of the rocks.

It snapped open. Under it was a lever.

Thirty-three…

Doctor Momo pulled the lever.

The ground slid open. There was a short flight of stairs.

Doctor Momo went down. Inside, in a hangar, was a large, streamlined boat. It was designed and painted to look like a black shark. It bobbed up and down in a channel of water.

Thirty-four…

Doctor Momo opened a hatch, climbed inside, pulled the hatch cover closed. He sat behind a V-shaped steering device. In front of him was a large, slanted window. All there was to see was darkness.

Thirty-five…

Doctor Momo worked a switch on the control board.

In front of the boat the rocks split open and there was light and the ocean.

Thirty-six…

“Sorry, Jack,” Doctor Momo said aloud. “I can make another man, but there is only one Doctor Momo.”

Thirty-seven…

Doctor Momo pushed a lever forward and the boat jumped like a porpoise. It leapt into the light, tore out across the water in a burst of foam.

Thirty-eight…

The beast men quit kicking Jack's head about. The Lion Man took it and started to gnaw on it. He said, “Hey, where's Doctor Momo?”

“Gone,” said Wolf. “He outsmarted us again.”

Thirty-nine…

“Let's get him,” said the Lion Man.

But, of course, it was too late.

Forty.

The island rumbled, seemed to grow in the middle. The ground rose up and split. Trees fell. The compound trembled.

Then the whole island blew.

It blew with one terrific rumble and a blast. It knocked dirt, trees, manmade structures, beast men and every living thing on the island into a mix of churning dirt and whirling explosives.

The explosion made the sea ripple. It made the sky dark. It spat a cloud up high and white as fresh sperm. The cloud spread. It took the shape of a mushroom.

The sea shook as if it were gelatin. Momo's craft wobbled violently, but stayed afloat. It was making hot time, burning miles and splitting water.

It was doing great.

Momo laughed out loud.

Then the boat hit the side of the still surfaced
Naughty Lass
and blew into a thousand pieces.

It didn't do Doctor Momo any good either. He went all over.

A chunk of him slapped up against the side of the sub's conning tower, hung there, then slipped off slowly and glided down gently into the water.

The impact knocked a hole in the side of the submarine big enough to drive a boat through.

The
Naughty Lass
took on water and began to sink.

Inside, Ned scurried with Cody's head toward one of the exit portals. He stood on the ladder and held Cody by the hair with his teeth. His little flippers and thumbs worked at turning the wheel that opened the hatch to the surface.

It sprang open, and up and out Ned and Cody went.

Bull and Cat came running down the corridor, saw the open hatch, water sloshing in through it.

Bull pushed Cat toward the ladder, up she went, and up he followed.

They leapt over the side.

Tin and Bert were trapped in the library. The water had flooded in and was already up to their chests. There were only moments left.

“We've got to swim for the main hatch,” Bert said.

“Never make it,” Tin said. “We'd swim, then the thing would sink and take us with it. There may be another way.”

“What way?”

Tin reached down, opened the compartment in his leg, took out his goods, pulled out the silver slippers.

“Yes,” Bert said. “You can escape.”

“Don't be silly. We both can or neither of us can. And this just might work.”

Tin pushed the shoes onto his feet. His toes poked through the tips, his feet pushed out the sides.

The water was almost to their chins.

“Hold me tight, Bert,” Tin said.

Bert clutched him. “I love you,” he said.

“And I you. If it works, there's no telling where we will end up. It could be worse.”

Bert looked at the rushing water, felt the sub start to tilt.

“And it could be paradise,” he said.

Tin clicked his heels.

Nothing.

“It's not working,” Tin said.

“It's the water,” Bert said. “You probably have to click them harder. Give it all you got.”

Clinging to one another, Tin moved his feet close together as the
Naughty Lass
tilted. He snapped his heels together with every ounce of metal and clockwork power he possessed.

The sub went under spinning.

But Tin and Bert were gone.

Hickok and Annie, once on the submarine, feeling they were home free, found Bemo's cabin and fell in bed together. They just couldn't contain themselves. Blood and violence made them horny. They were making love when the bomb went off on the island. They thought it was in their heads.

They were laughing at the joy of the moment when Doctor Momo's boat hit the
Naughty Lass.

The boat collided exactly where their cabin was, ripped through. They never knew what hit them.

They were cut in half in their bed by a slice of metal fragment from the boat.

Far out at sea Ned swam gracefully.

He had flung Cody's head on his back, tying it around his neck with Cody's long hair.

He had not bothered to check on Cody. He didn't know the water had shorted out the battery and breathing device in Cody's neck. Unaware of this, Ned swam on and on with the shriveling head of his deceased hero nestled on his back.

Two hours later the sharks took him.

Exhausted as Ned was, there wasn't even a serious fight.

When Bull and Cat leapt from the sub, they were fortunate enough to clutch to a piece of Momo's wrecked boat. A long seat cushion made of wood and leather.

It supported them for a full day before falling apart.

That night, they took turns with one swimming, holding the other up. Daylight, they continued the same program.

The next night while Bull was swimming, holding the fitfully sleeping Cat, he looked up at the stars. They seemed to be the eyes of lost friends, looking down.

He thought of Cody, Hickok and Annie. He was unaware of their fate, but assumed they were all dead. He thought little of Ned, Tin and Bert. He hardly knew them.

Cat slept so deeply, Bull swam long after he felt he could swim.

Next morning, as it was turning hot and the skin on his lips was peeling in strips, just when he considered it might be best to go under, Bull spotted something.

Men on horses.

They were coming across the water.

They rode slowly.

They clopped their horses right across the top of the water and the waves curled at their feet like greasy grass.

As they neared he saw they were the faces of warriors he knew.

Crazy Horse. He Dog. Spotted Calf and several others he did not know.

Crazy Horse was dressed for war. He wore a dead hawk fastened to the side of his head. His face was painted with black dots and lightning bolts. His great white horse was decorated with painted hand prints, red and black.

He Dog wore nothing.

“My brothers,” said Bull in Sioux. “Why is it that you come here?”

“We come for you, my brother,” said Crazy Horse.

“For me?”

“For you and your squaw.”

“I would ask you what horse pussy feels like,” He Dog said, patting his mare's side. “But I already know.”

All the warriors laughed.

“Here,” Crazy Horse said, and extended a hand.

Bull took it.

He was pulled onto the back of Crazy Horse's mount.

When Bull looked down, Catherine lay asleep in a field of blue waving grass. He Dog climbed down, picked her up, and lifted her onto his horse. Spotted Calf reached over and held her sleeping body upright while He Dog climbed up behind her and held her with one hand and held his bridle with the other.

“Do not ride too close,” Sitting Bull said.

He Dog laughed.

The riders tugged at their reins. The horses lifted their heads and rose to the sky, their legs working the air.

When Bull looked back, there was only the sea.

“You're awake.”

Bull sat up. He was nude with a sheet over him. A man wearing a heavy blue coat and watch cap, smoking a pipe, was looking at him.

“Where am I?”

“On board a ship. We found you and the woman at sea. We sent out a smaller boat, pulled you inside, brought you here.”

“So, did not die?”

“No,” said the man.

“Woman?”

“She's all right. We have her in another cabin.”

“No horses on water,” Bull said. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Bull thank you.”

“That's all right… Are you the famous Sitting Bull?”

Bull nodded.

“I saw you in The Wild West Show once. You and Buffalo Bill. Just relax. You're on your way home now.”

The man rose and went away. Bull lay back and pulled the sheet up under his chin. He closed his eyes. He dreamed briefly of the riders. Then he dreamed of Cat, and what they would do when they regained their strength.

The thought of it made him feel stronger already.

Somewhere, in a time out of joint, there's an island and a beach. It's a better island than the island of Doctor Momo. It is full of trees and animals and the beaches are wide and made of pristine white sand.

Surrounding this beach is water more beautiful and a brighter turquoise than that of the Caribbean. The waters are full of fish. At night two moons race across the sky and the black between the stars is always filled with burning red comets.

The silver slippers hang from the limb of a tree bursting with fruit.

Tin and Bert live there.

Bert has fish and fruit to eat.

Tin uses oil made from plants and fish to keep himself functional.

All day they talk and walk and at night they lie together.

The sun comes up. The sun goes down.

The moons come up. The moons go down.

The Tin Man's chest feels warm, as if a heart beats there.

Bert, the monster Frankenstein built of dead bodies, feels very much alive.

And the two of them together, feel rich and full of soul.

Before my career as a best-selling novelist, I lived an active life. I knew Captain Bemo, Doctor Momo, Buffalo Bill — still my hero — Annie Oakley — a peach of a woman — Wild Bill Hickok — a man's man… well, a seal's man as well — Sitting Bull — who invented the word
stoic
— I knew many others as well. I cruised beneath the seas in the
Naughty Lass.
I lived on the island with Doctor Momo when he made his beast men, and I am, in fact, a product of his handiwork. I even knew Tin, who came from a world far away, and I knew the Frankenstein Monster, who was one hell of a fine fella.

And I was there when the Martians came, and all the horrors that accompanied them. I was a companion of Samuel Clemens, otherwise known as the great novelist Mark Twain. I knew his friend, Jules Verne. I knew H. G. Wells. I knew the Lost Island. And I knew London when it was in flames. In my life, I have eaten many fish.

—From
The Autobiography of Ned the Seal,

Adventurer Extraordinaire

ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY MILLION miles across the vast expanse of blackness and prickly white stars, on the planet we call Mars, the red sand shifted, and out of it rose a magnificent, blue-black, oily machine with twenty-six enormous barrels. The barrels were cocked and loaded.

The barrels fanned wide, greased gears rotated and lifted them into their trajectories. Then there was a sound in the thin Martian air like twenty-six volcanoes erupting simultaneously. The great guns spat shiny silver cylinders dragging blue-red flame toward our Earth at a blinding speed.