Flaming Zeppelins (9 page)

“Ned!” Jack said. “I just offered my services.”

Ned paid no attention. With Annie laughing, he guided her off the boat, onto the dock. Jack followed, paying close attention to the swing of Annie's ass.

Hickok shifted Cody to the crook of his left arm, and out of habit, reached to touch the butts of his guns.

Of course, there was nothing there. Warily, he proceeded ashore.

As Bull stepped off the submarine with Bemo, he said, “Any place to do business?”

“Business?” Bemo asked.

“Number two?”

“Number what?”

“Shit? Need shit.”

“Oh, why yes. I'll show you one of the outdoor facilities.”

They were led to a great house made of native logs and thatch. It was stately, two stories, surrounded by a compound with palisades and a massive gate.

There were inhabitants in the fort. They were monkey men. No monkey women were visible.

The Wild Westers were given rooms. Annie and Hickok insisted on a room together, and their wish was granted. Cody also had a room. He was placed on a dresser with the back of his head to the mirror; seeing his head floating in a jar was just too much for the vain Cody and he insisted he be placed that way.

Heated water was brought in and poured for baths by the monkey people. White cotton trousers and a white jacket were supplied for Bull, Hickok and Annie. There were also little cotton shoes with thatch soles.

Cody's jar was cleaned and the big tin lid was polished.

Their doors were locked from the outside.

Late in the day, their doors were unlocked by the metal man, who told them in his metallic voice that his name was Tin. He carried Cody, led the others along a corridor and into a fine dining room that connected to a sunlit veranda, a long table and tall-back chairs.

Ned, the seal, waddled into the room, and when he saw Buffalo Bill being carried by the Tin Man, he brightened. Bemo followed shortly behind, looking pleasant enough for a man with a pulsing bulb in the back of his brain.

At the table, Tin introduced them to the middle-aged, gray-haired Momo who was already seated, dressed in white cotton shirt and trousers, drinking a very dark wine, spots of which dotted the front of his shirt. He smiled at them with gray, slightly bucked teeth in a tan face. His eyes looked like the ass end of silver bullets.

Tin guided each of the guests to their seat. Hickok was on the left of Momo, Annie the right. Cody's head was placed in the middle of the table, and Bull was placed at the far end, facing Momo. Bemo sat next to Bull. Tin and Ned did not take a seat. They stood near the edge of the veranda, watching and waiting.

A moment later, Jack scuttled into the room, scraping and shuffling, his bowler hat in his hand. With him came a faint aroma that might have been dung and sweat sweetened with urine.

“Sorry I'm late, Doctor,” Jack said. “So sorry.”

“Very well,” Momo said. “Tell Catherine she may serve now.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Jack said, put on his bowler and scuttled from the room. When he returned a moment later, he removed his hat, squatted next to Momo's chair.

The meal was served by an attractive woman with thick black hair. She was short and well built and had a curious way of moving. Her eyes were bright green and her mouth was broad and thick lipped. She wore a short yellow dress. It was just to her knees and the boots she wore were black and laced and very tiny.

Catherine moved quickly and carefully until everyone was served. When she bent to serve him, Hickok noted that she had a pleasant musky aroma about her.

Finished, she disappeared from the room, silent as a cat.

The food, though tasty in design, was hard to consume because of Momo's dining habits.

The hunchback sat in a chair next to Momo and fed him his dinner bite by bite with a long wooden fork. Sometimes, if the meat being served was not tender enough, the hunchback pre-chewed it for Momo, placed it on the fork when it was properly soft and soggy, and fed it to the good doctor.

Even Bull — who had eaten grubs and maggots, boiled dogs and raw buffalo livers, picked corn kernels out of horse shit, and was accustomed to poking food into his mouth with his fingers — was appalled.

“I am most glad to have you here as guests,” Momo said with a jaw full of food, then stopped suddenly, reached a probing finger into his mouth, pulled out a wad of graying meat. “This still has gristle,” he said to Jack.

“Sorry, Doctor,” Jack said, took the food from Momo's finger, poked it into his own mouth, began chewing vigorously.

While Jack was at work on the meat, Momo said, “This island is my island, and I welcome you. Of course, you won't be leaving.”

“And what's to stop us?” Cody asked.

“Tin,” Momo said sharply. “Come in here, please.”

The metal man stepped forward. Momo said, “Demonstrate.”

Tin picked up one of the empty chairs, wadded it into curled splinters with a slight movement of his hands.

“He can also run fast, see extreme distances, and for reasons I won't go into here, he's very dedicated to me. There are also other obstacles you would face escaping from this island. My servants and guards. The ocean itself. It's best just to be comfortable.”

At that moment, Catherine, the servant, reappeared with a tray containing dessert and coffee. She set both in the center of the table, poured each of them a cup of java, served them heavy devil's food cake and left the room. As she passed, Doctor Momo patted her on the behind.

“Good girl,” he said.

Hickok said, “We would prefer to leave, Doctor.”

“I'm afraid I must insist,” Momo said. “Nothing bad will come of you if you stay. I mean, in one shape or fashion you will carry on. It's not so horrible here. We have a large house, plenty of rooms, built by the island's labor. And I believe you will find me an amusing host.”

“I'm already amused,” Annie said.

“Good,” Momo said.

“Who are these islanders?” Cody asked.

“Actually, when I arrived, this island was populated only by animals.”

“You're saying they are your creations?” Cody said.

“Very astute,” Momo said, lifting a hip, cutting a fart sharp enough to use as a bread knife. “I've been most busy. Our servant, Catherine, or as I sometimes call her, Cat, was produced from a small species of wildcat on the island. Not a large cat, I might add. But look at her now.”

“Ridiculous,” Annie said.

“And Jack here. He was once a chimpanzee.” Momo reached out and tapped Jack on the head. Jack smiled, and for the first time they could see that his teeth had been filed off to appear more human.

“All right,” Annie said. “In his case, I believe it.”

“I am aware of your work,” Cody said. “But I've never heard that you actually created human beings.”

“You're aware of my old work, Mr. Cody. It is nothing compared to what I'm doing now. Captain Bemo told me of your friends. Samuel Morse. Professor Maxxon. Who else? Darwin? I understand you also had in your possession Frankenstein's creation.”

“That's correct,” Cody said.

“A shame you lost the creature. I'm sure it would have made quite a toy for the island. And these friends of yours, Morse, Maxxon. Good minds compared to yourself and the average moron, but compared to mine, their brains are doo-doo.”

“Doo-doo?” Hickok said.

“Yes, doo-doo,” Momo said. “And this monster Frankenstein created...child's play. Nothing of real importance. Cobbling a body out of corpses. That's not creation. That's re-creation. My work...that's creation. Tell them, Jack.”

“It's very creative,” Jack said.

“Damn, he's cute,” Momo said. “I love this guy. I can remember a time when he only ate bananas and played with his balls. But look at him now. He looks near human. Ugly, but human. Still, look at him. He doesn't just eat bananas now. Eats meat as well. Still plays with his balls, but you can't accomplish everything in one fell swoop.”

“What we would like,” Annie said, “is for you to allow Captain Bemo to deliver us home. That is all we ask. Once we arrive, we would be glad to pay you for your inconvenience.”

“Ah, my beautiful Little Miss Sure Shot. Your reputation precedes you, and I would be very amused to see you shoot sometime, and I would very much like to see you with your naked butt turned over a log, but, I cannot let you go.”

Hickok jumped to his feet. “Don't you dare speak to her that way. I challenge you to back up your mouth, Mister. Guns. Knives. Bare hands.”

“I'll use Tin,” Momo said.

Tin slapped Hickok on the shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

“Sorry about that,” Momo said. “Tin, help him up.”

“I can manage,” Hickok said.

Tin pulled Hickok to his feet anyway, sat him in his chair. Annie leaned over, put a hand on Hickok's knee, whispered, “Take it easy. He's about a quart shy a gallon.”

“The problem is,” Momo said, “you will not forget you have been here. I know human nature better than that. Mr. Cody, wouldn't you like a body to go with that head? Wouldn't you want to see my research go on until I'm ready to reveal it to the world? Not have some do-gooder who thinks I am evil rush out here to the island to put a ruin to my work? Think of it. Goddamn Christians tromping around on this paradise. Destroying what I have accomplished. Putting up churches. Trying to teach my people about God. A fool's mission. I am not even sure they have souls.”

“Fuck Christians,” Bull said suddenly.

Everyone looked to the end of the table. Bull raised his drinking glass. “Death to Christians,” he said. “Dirty shit-heads.” Bull took a long pull at the wine in his glass.

“Well now, a kindred spirit,” Momo said.

“No,” Bull said, pouring himself more wine. “Bull not like Christians. Pretty much think you asshole.”

“Honesty is the best policy,” Momo said. Then to Cody: “But that body to go with your head. You would like it, would you not?”

“I would,” Cody said. “In fact, I have a body. My old one. Back home. On ice. Powered by electricity and batteries. All that modern science allows keeps it alive, waiting until a method can be discovered for reconnecting my head to my shoulders.”

“Why wait?” Momo said. “I can do it for you now.”

“You can?”

“You bet your ass I can,” Momo said. “Then again, you don't have an ass, do you?”

“You all ass,” Bull said.

“Mr. Indian Man,” Momo said, “do not push me.”

Bull grinned.

“I do not want just any body attached to my head,” Cody said.

“Posh. I do not work that way. I will grow you a body. From your own cells. It would be like the body you had before. Only younger. Stronger. It is no trouble. Not really. I have never done it before, of course. Not having any humans to work on, but I have done it with animals, and I'm ready to give it the old college try, and all that. I am certain I can do it. Whoa. Hold on.”

Momo let a fart fly. Jack went to fanning immediately.

Annie said, “I hope you can grow some manners while you're at it.”

“Understand, on this island I set the standards for behavior,” Momo said. “And I delight in violating the old rules. Makes me feel in control, you know. Kind of a flaw actually, but there you have it. And you know what, young lady? I may just see you naked and bent over that log yet. In fact, I may brand you on the hip. A big fat M for Momo.”

Angry, Hickok eyed Tin. Tin, as if reading his mind, was eyeing him. Hickok thought about it a moment, decided it was best to bide his time. He forced himself to turn his attention to dessert and coffee.

After his first forkful, he glanced at Bull. Bull had already eaten his dessert and was pouring himself more coffee. He seemed to have lost all interest in the conversation.

Bull was like that. Paid attention until it didn't seem necessary to pay attention anymore. Kept his feelings to himself most of the time, but now and then, as with his comments about Momo, he'd let an opinion loose.

Bull said, “Got cigar?”

Momo eyed Bull for a moment, then… “A proper suggestion,” Momo said. “Bemo prepares these from seaweed.”

“So we know,” Hickok said, waving a hand at Bemo. “Why have you done…
this
to Bemo?”

“I found him and his sub in one of my coves. His crew was dead. Bemo was badly injured himself. The only survivor. The
Naughty Lass
had been injured badly as well. I, of course, knew about him, his activities on the high seas, his strong stance against war and all the machines of war. I didn't really give a shit about that, but I thought I could use him, so, I made some adjustments in his brain, as well as gave him medical attention. He got better, and I created a crew for him…literally. They were originally howler monkeys, every one of them. The island is covered in my monkey creations. All male. Bemo, like the monkey men, though less willingly, does my bidding. Correct, Bemo?”

“I'd rather not,” Bemo said. “But yes.”

“But yes,” Momo repeated. “If he doesn't, I don't replace the special bulb in his gray matter on a regular basis, and he dies. I can control him quite easily if he becomes annoying, or decides, as now, to adopt a sort of smart attitude in his voice.” Momo produced from his pocket a chain, and what looked like a watch.

“No,” Bemo said.

Momo pressed the device. Bemo screamed, fell out of his chair, onto the floor.

“I will be good. I will be good.” Bemo repeated over and over.

Momo ceased pressing the watch. “Careful, Bemo, you'll burst your bulb on the floor there, and that wouldn't be good. And you are damn right you will be good. Jack, see to some cigars. Get a big fat one for Bemo. I have a feeling he'll need it. Miss Oakley? A cigar for you? Any kind at all. You know what I mean. You know of Freud, do you not? A real cigar? A symbolic one that I personally can provide?”