Before an arched opening a green light was burning. Even as Horton stopped, a swift sensation, as of momentary dropping of temperature, warned me of the identity of him to
“Mr. Kerrigan is expected,” said Horton, and Hassan stood aside.
I went in, and the heavy door closed behind me. But the appearance of Hassan had gone far to revive my waning courage. Did it mean that Ardatha was here?
The place was a lobby, lighted by a square, silk lantern and pervaded by a curious perfume: another door was beyond.
“Wait, please.”
Hassan opened the further door, stepped in and immediately came out again, indicating with a movement of one huge, muscular hand that I should enter. Clenching my teeth, I went into a small library. There were volumes on the shelves of a character which I had never come across before. The only illumination was provided by a globular lamp on a square, black pedestal set on a large desk. Upon this desk lay a number of books and papers and other objects which I had no leisure to observe.
For, seated behind the desk, in a grotesquely carved ebony chair, wasDr. Fu Manchu!
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE ZOMBIES
He wore a white linen coat, similar to that worn by Marriot Doughty; on his head was a black skull-cap. He glanced at me as I entered—and I avoided his glance: it was a protective instinct.
“Be seated, Mr. Kerrigan. You have not failed to note contusion and a slight abrasion in the neighbourhood of my left maxillary muscle. Had your very forceful blow struck me on the bone structure I fear that the damage might have been more serious.”
As I sat down facing him, I ventured to look. His left jaw was bruised and cut. Perhaps his quiet, deliberate speech was responsible (he spoke, in a sense, perfect English, but gave each syllable an equal value which made familiar words sound strange) or perhaps sudden, hot resentment—resentment of all he stood for?inspired me; but, “A long cherished ambition is realized,” I said. “At least I have hit you once.”
He toyed with a jade snuff-box which lay upon the desk; his disconcerting eyes grew filmed. That sensitive hand, with its long, tended finger-nails, fascinated me.
“I bear no malice, Mr. Kerrigan. Animal courage is not one of the higher human qualities; but it is a quality, nevertheless, and I respect it—I can use courage. You have it. I welcome you. I absorb gladly all that is useful in the animal kingdom. Suitably directed, such a specialized army can defeat great—but ignorant? hosts.”
His voice, as always, was acting upon me like a drug. There was something of the inevitable, superhuman, a quality akin to those hidden but known forces of Nature, in his mere presence.
“You have met some of the Companions whom you believed to be dead. No doubt you have studied the tradition of the
During the weeks that had elapsed since I had facedDr. Fu Manchu in that underground laboratory beside the Thames a marked change had taken place in him. Then I had thought him dying; now he was restored to his supernormal self.
“Those hapless creatures are not—as superficial observers have supposed—a kind of vampire, a corpse reanimated by sorcery; they are the products of a form of slow poisoning which induces catalepsy. When buried, they are not in fact dead. The Voodoo man disinters them and bends them to his purpose. They have no conscious identity; they remain slaves of his will.”
Opening the jade box, he raised a pinch of snuff to his nostrils.
“After researches which led me from Haiti to Central Africa, to the Sudan, and finally to Egypt, I discovered the nature of the drugs used and the manner of their administration. The process was known to the priests of Thebes. I was quick to realize that its possession placed a power in my hands which should secure for me mastery of every other secret in Nature!”
His voice rose. His brilliant green eyes, fully opened, revealed momentarily the mad fanaticism which inspired him. I had a glimpse of that terrifying genius which more than once had shaken governments.
“I determined, Mr. Kerrigan, to establish a comer in brains. For the purpose of carrying out those numerous experiments in physics, botany, zoology, biology, which I had projected, I would secure a staff of researchers from the best intellects in those sciences.” He tapped the jade snuff-box with a long, varnished finger-nail. “I sought my staff all over the world, employing the resources of the Si-Fan to aid me. I was not invariably successful; nevertheless, I secured a notable collection of first-class brains. My conquest of that age-old mystery, the Elixir Vitae, enabled me to arrest senility in suitable cases—as, for example, in my own.”
He stood up, and stepping to a door recessed between bookcases, pressed a button. The door slid open.
“Since you are to remain with us as an active participant, if you choose, in our work to create a sane world (but since, in any event, you will remain) I shall give you an opportunity of judging of our labours before any decision is demanded of you.”
A man came in, a young man who had an untidy mop of dark brown hair and very steadfast hazel eyes. He was a powerful fellow, wore blue overalls and had the hands of a toiler; but when he spoke I knew that he was a man of culture.
“Companion Allington,” said Dr. Fu Manchu, “this is Mr. Bart Kerrigan. As you are of about one age, I thought he might appreciate your company as guide. You may show him anything that he wishes to see.”
“Delighted, Mr. Kerrigan, and much obliged to you, sir.”
As I followed my new acquaintance along a short passage and out into a tree shaded courtyard, I thought that he had used first the words and just the tone of one speaking to his commanding officer.
* * *
“Do you mean that you are Squadron Leader Allington?”
““Well I used to be,” said Allington, grinning, cheerfully. “Only regret I’m out of the Service because I’m missing the gorgeous show over there.”
“You held the Royal Air Force altitude record.”
“Yes, for a time. Then I tried to be too clever on a non-stop flight and crashed into the Timor Sea. Remember?”
“Well, I remember you were missing. Were you—?” I hesitated, looking almost furtively into those smiling eyes. “Killed? Oh, no! I’m not one of the
He laughed gaily, grasping my arm and leading me in the direction of a long, low building on the right. But his reference to “the conscripts” had turned me cold.
“Do you mean that you voluntarily joined the—”
“The Si-Fan? Yes, rather. So will you when the time comes. I was picked up by a steamer which happened to belong to them, you see. You have a lot to learn yet, Kerrigan. Whatever your job may be, this is the most wonderful service in the world.”
He selected a key from a number attached to a chain and opened the door of what I assumed to be one of a range of garages. If there had never been a Fuehrer or a Duce—one who had persuaded an entire nation to believe in his godlike mission—I should have been unable to trust my senses, to credit my reason; but what such men could do, certainly Dr. Fu Manchu could improve upon.
“Here we are,” said Allington, wheeling the wide doors apart. “You’ve got to see my taxis first, whether you want to or not!”
His buoyant enthusiasm, his typical Air Force manner, at that time and in those circumstances, I bracket in my memories with the informative remarks of Dr. Marriot Doughty as he had conducted me to my interview with Fu Manchu.
I found myself to be in a place resembling a long garage. Some twenty machines were there in line. At first
