Dracula Unbound (7 page)

A small silence fell, in which Dr. Kindness cleared his throat.

“And there's no cure once you've contracted it?” asked the ginger man, with a terrified expression.

“If treated early enough. Otherwise …” The doctor removed his pipe to utter what was intended to be a laugh. “Many of the inmates of this institution die of GPI. Men and women. If you'd like to come back tomorrow, I'll be able to show you a really excellent corpse of an old woman in her sixties. Mad as a hatter the last eight years.”

“Thanks, Doctor, but I'm busy tomorrow. Sorry to take up so much of your time.” The ginger man thrust his hands deep in his pockets, in an effort to still their trembling.

As he hurried from the bleak building with all its stone wings and stone walls and stony windows, he muttered a verse from Psalm XXVI to himself: “Oh shut not up my soul with the sinners/nor my life with the bloodthirsty …”

And as he climbed into his waiting carriage, he said aloud, “Holy Lord, but I need a drink. It's a terrible way for a man to end up.”

Bodenland and Waldgrave were in the construction wing consulting with senior mechanics when a call came through from Bodenland's secretary that Bernard Clift wanted to see him urgently.

“I'll be there, Rose.”

He spotted Clift through the glass door of his office before Clift saw his approach. The younger man still wore the dusty clothes he had had on at Old John in Utah. His whole manner suggested excitement, as he paced back and forth in the waiting room with a springy step, punching the palm of one hand with the fist of the other and talking to himself with a downward gaze as if rehearsing a speech.

“You'll wonder what I'm doing in Dallas,” he began, almost without preamble, as Bodenland entered. “I'm on my way anyhow to PAA '99 in Houston—Progress in Advanced Archaeology. We're still fighting a clique of idiots who think Darwin was the devil. I've been scheduled to speak for some months now. Well, I'm going to announce that I've uncovered a humanoid creature who goes back some sixty-five million years. I'm in for the Spanish Inquisition, and I know it.”

“I thought you'd come to inspect our inertial project,” Bodenland said, smiling.

Clift looked blank. “I wanted to see you because I've had a rethink about secrecy in the last forty-eight hours. Our security broke down. The students told the tale to a local radio station. I don't want a garbled message getting about. I have to ask you for some support, Joe—I mean financial. My university won't fund me on this.”

“You asked them and they turned you down?” He saw by Clift's expression that his guess was correct. “They said you were crazy? What makes you think
I
don't think you're crazy? Have some coffee, Bernie, and let me talk you out of this.”

Clift shook his head exasperatedly but allowed Bodenland to pour him a cup from the coffee maker on the other side of the room. He sank into a chair and sipped the black coffee.

“The experts I told you about—both able young men from the archaeological research departments of the museums in Chicago and Drumheller—took a look at the evidence. Of course they're cautious. They have to make reports. But I think I have won their backing. They will be at Houston, at PAA '99. Don't shake your head, Joe. Look at this.”

He jumped up, almost upsetting his cup. From his briefcase he spilled on the table black-and-white photos of the site and the grave, taken from all angles.

“There's no way this can be a hoax, Joe.” He made an agitated movement. “It would be to your company's advantage to associate yourself with this momentous discovery. I'm positive there was a—at least a pseudohuman species contemporaneous with the duck-billed dinosaurs and other giant herbivores and, of course, with major predators such as
Tyrannosaurus rex
. I'm going to overturn scientific knowledge just as Lyell and Darwin and others overturned prevailing false religion in the nineteenth century. You realize the amount we know for sure about the Cretaceous is all virtually contained in a truckload of old bones? The rest is guesswork—inspired imagination.”

Bodenland interrupted his eloquence. “Look beyond your personal excitement. Suppose you were taken seriously in Houston. Think of the effect on the stock market—”

Clift jumped up, heedlessly upsetting his coffee. “I change the world and you worry about the Dow Jones Index? Joe, this isn't like you! Grasp the new reality.”

“My shareholders would shoot me if—”

“Here's a kind of human with burial customs not unlike today's—flowers in the grave, ocher, even some kind of meaningful symbol on the coffin lid—but below the K/T boundary. Maybe it developed from some offshoot of early dinosaurs. I don't know, but I tell you that this is—well, it's greater than the discovery of a new planet, it's—”

“Hold it, Bernie,” said Joe, laughing. “I do see that it might be all you say, and more—if it proved to be true. But how could it be true? You want it to be true. But suppose it's like the Piltdown man, just a hoax. Something some of those brighter students of yours tried on for fun … I can't possibly associate this organization with it at this early stage. We've got responsibilities. If you want a few hundred bucks, I'd be glad—”

“Joe, are you hearing me?” Clift looked angry. “I just told you, this is no fucking hoax. How many of the world's great discoveries have been laughed at on first appearance? Remember how men thought that flying machines were impossible—and continued to do so even after the first flying machine had left the ground? Remember how the great Priestley discovered the role of oxygen in combustion—yet still believed in the old phlogiston theory?”

“Okay, okay.” Bodenland raised his hands for peace. “Quite contrary to Priestley's case, in this case popular mythology is entirely on your side. The comic strips and movies have always pretended that mankind and dinosaurs coexisted. You're just claiming that Fred Flintstone was a real live actual person.”

He saw this remark was not appreciated, and went on hurriedly, “Bernie, honestly, I'd be happy if I could swallow all this. Seeing orthodoxies overturned is my kind of meat. But you don't stand a chance on this one. Go back to the goddamned Escalante, find a second grave in that same stratum. Then I'll take you seriously.”

“You will? Okay.” He paused dramatically and gestured toward the table. “Take a look at the photos. You've scarcely glanced at them. You're like the Italian authorities, refusing to look through Galileo's telescope. You've taken it for granted you know what the photos are all about. These are shots of a second grave, Joe. We struck it just when you were leaving to get your plane.”

Bodenland gave his friend one baffled look, then peered at the pictures.

The second grave much resembled the first, which was why he had hardly bothered to look at the photos. The remains had been enclosed in a similar coffin, with the same mysterious sign on the lid. In this case, the lid had been removed with little damage.

The skeleton, sunk in red ocher, lay on its side, in the same position as the first skeleton. Distance shots showed that this grave was no more than fifty yards from the first, still just below the K/T boundary but deeper into the hill, where the strata curved inward.

“You observe,” Clift said, now using a voice of icy calm, “the second grave. There are two significant differences compared with our first discovery. In this case, the skeleton is that of a female. And she lies with a wooden stake through what was her heart.”

“I'm sure your beautiful young daughter-in-law would tell you that you know nothing about human nature, Joe,” Clift said as they walked through the building. “I can't keep this secret. I'm bursting with it. There's the scientific aspect, and that's predominant. This is something that is going to cause shock waves. It'll be hotly contested. I'm in for the Spanish Inquisition and I know it. I also know I can defend my case.

“But there's more to it than that. You've had plenty of publicity in your time, what with your association with Victor Frankenstein and Mary Shelley and all that. I also want publicity. I want recognition, as every man does, if he's honest. Publicity will give me the funding I require.

“Millions of dollars are needed—millions. The whole Iron Hills area must be torn apart. We've got a new civilization to explore—beyond our dreams. Imagine, civilization started here, in the USA, long before apes came out of the African jungles!”

“Yes, and when this hits the media, you're going to have the whole universe invading your territory. You're not going to be able to work. The site will be ruined. And I won't be able to chase that phantom train.”

“That's where you can help. If your organization will back me, we can get an army of security personnel down at Old John straight away.”

“Let's do it! Do you want a bed for the night? I'll call Mina, if she isn't twenty thousand feet up.”

“I'll call her, Joe, thanks. And Joe—thanks a million. I know you'll be in the hot seat too. One day, I'll return this favor.”

They shook hands.

Joe said, “Mina will take care of you. I may be a little hard to contact, just for a while.”

“How's that?”

“Never mind. Up and at 'em, Bernie. Shake the world! I'm on your side.”

The great green-and-white waves of the Pacific came curling into Hilo Bay, Hawaii. The foam scattered in the sunlight, the water lost its power, crawled up the volcanic sands, sank down again, and miraculously revived to make another assault on the beaches.

Larry and Kylie came out of the ocean shaking the water from their hair.

“I just know something is wrong, Larry. Please let's get back to the hotel,” she said.

“Nothing's wrong, sweetie. Forget your intuitions. It's something you ate. How can anything be wrong? We've only been down on the beach an hour.”

“I'm sorry, Larry,” Kylie said, reaching for a towel. “I just feel kind of edgy inside. I need to get back to the hotel to see if there's a message or something. You don't have to come. I can go on my own.”

“Oh, shit, I'll come. You'll be making me nervous next.”

Back in the Bradford Palace, where they had now been staying for three days, everything was normal. Phoning down from their room to the reception desk revealed no message. Nothing had happened.

“I'm sorry, darling,” Kylie said, nuzzling him. “I just had that silly feeling. You want to go back to the beach?”

“No, I don't want to go back to the beach. Supposing you get another funny spell as soon as we're down there. We could be bouncing back and forth like yo-yos all day. I'm going to drag a six-pack out on that balcony and tan. Forget it.”

“Don't be like that, Larry. I wish you wouldn't drink so much.”

He turned and grinned as he headed for the fridge. “You got some religious objections or something?”

She stood in the middle of the room, nibbling an index finger. She said nothing to him when he returned, switching on the TV too loud on his way to a cushioned chaise longue on the balcony of the suite. She looked out past him, through the tall palms and over the busy road and the other hotels and the whole vulgar commercial razzmatazz of Hilo Bay, to the green line of ocean beyond the shallows where the swimmers and surfers sported, a line that offered at least the prospect of infinity.

Sadly she turned away, changed into a loose caftan, and took a copy of Bram Stoker's novel
Dracula
over to a side sofa to read, out of range of the TV screen. She had marked her place with the wrapper of a Hershey bar.

With a part of her mind, Kylie was aware of a commercial on television for the local Hedge's Beer. “It's slimming, it's trimming—get a Hedge against inflation.” A news bulletin followed.

Absorbed in her reading, she hardly took it in until Larry yelled from the balcony, “Bernie Clift!”

There was Clift's face on the screen.

Against library pictures of desert, the announcer was speaking: “The scientific world—or at least that part of it meeting yesterday at a conference in Houston—was in an uproar over a statement made by famous paleontologist Bernard Clift. Clift claims he has discovered a race of humanlike beings who lived millions of years before the Stone Age.”

Clift was seen at a microphone, brushing back a lock of hair from his forehead and speaking above a hubbub. “On the evidence of a pair of graves in Utah we cannot generalize too freely. But the workmanship of the coffins, which is surprisingly modern in technique, suggests a high degree of culture. Dating methods indicate beyond doubt a date of some 65.5 million years ago. This clearly places the coffins and the bodies they contain back at a period when the tyrannosaur and other giant dinosaurs were still roving the continents.”

The clip ended. Back came the announcer, saying, “Later, Clift revealed that a preliminary analysis of the two fossilized bodies indicates strong shoulder development with much-enlarged shoulder blades—which leads to the hypothesis that Clift's new discoveries could possibly have evolved from a flighted species, such as the pterodactyl or pteranodon, as shown in this artist's impression.”

Over the sketch, his voice continued, “A natural wave of skepticism greeted the Utah announcement …” By this time, Larry and Kylie were arm in arm before the TV set, jumping with excitement.

“Skepticism!” Larry exclaimed. “What else?”

“… and it's not only from the Bible Belt that these protests have come. Within the last hour, Professor Danny Hudson of the Smithsonian Institution has issued a challenge to Bernard Clift to put up or shut up. He is reported as saying he expects the evidence to become available to, quote, ‘unbiased scientific examination,' unquote.”

Mina's face appeared on the screen.

She was in mid-spate. This was evidently an excerpt from a longer interview in Clift's defense. They heard her say only, “They all laughed at Christopher Columbus, remember? Columbus thought the world was round, the idiot.”