The manitou by Graham Masterton Page B

We’ve been checking
through books on Indian history and stuff like that, and we think it might be
an Indian medicine man of the seventeenth century. According to one of these
books – hold on – Indian medicine men ‘if threatened, could destroy themselves
by drinking blazing oil, and be reborn at any time or place in the future or
past by impregnating themselves into the body of a man, woman or animal.’ Do
you think that fits, Dr. Hughes?”
    There was a
long silence on the other end of the telephone.
    Then Dr. Hughes
said: “Mr. Erskine, I don’t know what to say. That almost fits too well. But if
it is true, what can anyone do to destroy such a creature? Dr. Snaith made more
tests this afternoon, and it’s absolutely clear that if we do anything to
remove or kill that fetus, then Karen Tandy will die. The thing has become an
integral part of her own nervous system.”
    “How is she,
doctor? Is she conscious?”
    “Just about,
but she’s not responding too well. If this fetus goes on growing at the same
rate, I can only say that she’ll be dead within two or three days. Dr. Snaith
thinks Tuesday.”
    “How about the gynecological expert?”
    “He’s as
baffled as the rest of us,” said Dr. Hughes. “He confirmed that the fetus
wasn’t a normal child, but he agreed with me that it has all the
characteristics of a fast-growing parasitic organism. If you believe it a
medicine man, Mr. Erskine, then your opinion is just as valid as any of the
opinions we’ve come up with here.”
    Amelia came and
stood beside me and raised her eyebrows questioningly.
    “How is she?”
she asked.
    I put my hand
over the phone. “Bad. The doctors don’t think she’ll last until Tuesday.”
    “But what about
the thing – the medicine man?” asked Amelia. “Does he think that will grow and
survive? I mean, Jesus...”
    I spoke to Dr.
Hughes again. “Dr. Hughes, my friend here asks what’s going to happen to the
fetus. Supposing it’s still alive when Karen Tandy dies? What are you going to
do about it?”
    Dr. Hughes
didn’t hesitate. “Mr. Erskine, in that event we will do what we always do. If
it is a child, and it’s normal and healthy, we’ll do everything we can to save
it. If it turns out to be a monster – well, we have injections that can dispose
of it quietly and quickly.”
    “And if it’s a
medicine man?” I asked warily.
    He paused.
“Well, if it’s a medicine man – I don’t know. But I can’t see how it could be,
Mr.
    Erskine. I’m
willing to go some way toward the occult but how on earth could she give birth
to a three-hundred-year-old Indian? I mean, come on, let’s be serious.”
    “Dr. Hughes, it
was you who suggested we try and find out if there was anything occult going on
here. And you did say that my opinion was as valid as anyone else’s.”
    Dr. Hughes
sighed. “I know that, Mr. Erskine. I’m sorry. But you have to admit it sounds
pretty crazy.”
    “Crazy or not,
I think we ought to try and do something about it.”
    “What do you
suggest?” said Dr. Hughes dully.
    “Something you
recommended has worked once, Dr. Hughes. You said I ought to bring an expert
in, and I did. I think it’s time we went looking for another expert – somebody
who knows more than we do about Indian lore and mysticism. Give me some time
and I’ll try to dig somebody up. There’s bound to be someone at Harvard or Yale
who knows.”
    “Could be,”
said Dr. Hughes. “Okay, Mr. Erskine. Thanks for your interest and your help.
Don’t hesitate to call me if there’s anything else you want to know.”
    I put the phone
down slowly. Amelia and MacArthur stood beside me, just as weary as I was, but
eager to help now, and really interested. They’d seen the face on the
cherrywood table, and they believed. Whatever the spirit was, whether it was an
Indian medicine man or a malignant ghost of the present, they wanted to help me
fight it.
    “If you ask
me,” said MacArthur, “the Dutch should have