They walked to the far end of the warehouse. And then he had asked for the intermediate form. Kawakita had placed human DNA on one side and the reovirus DNA on the other. And the proof lay within his grasp: his extrapolation program. The creature, the Museum Beast, He Who Walks On All Fours, was Whittlesey. Kawakita remembered clearly the day everything came together for him. Proof, they said, that the monster had killed Whittlesey. The final piece of the puzzle fell into place when he remembered what that cop, D'Agosta, had mentioned at the going-away party for the FBI agent: that they had found a double-arrow pendant belonging to JohnWhittlesey in the creature's lair. He moved toward the door as quickly as the dim light would allow. And the desperate creature would, if at all possible, find a substitute for the plant-the human hypothalamus being by far the most satisfactory. Of course, death would intervene before that happened. Otherwise, intense pain, even madness, would result as the body tried to revert.
But it was critical that the dose be maintained. Initially, large quantities of the plant would be needed to ensure sufficient reovirus to effect the bodily change.Once the transformation was complete, the plant need be consumed only in small quantities, supplemented of course by other proteins. The climax of their ceremonials was undoubtedly the induction of a new creature-the force-feeding of the plant to the unwilling human victim. The cult would have centered around the plant itself, its cultivation and harvesting. Chances are, the Kothoga only kept one of the creatures around at a time-more than that would be too dangerous. The creatures kept the enemies of the Kothoga at bay-yet they themselves were a constant threat to their masters. The plants were a curse that was simultaneously hated and needed. Kawakita could now visualize parts of the Kothoga's secret religion. Mbwun-the word the Kothoga used for the wonderful, terrible plant, and for the creatures those who ate it became. He was small and wiry, and walked with a distinct roll to his shoulders. A monster that would terrorize the surrounding tribes without terrorizing its masters that would ensure the security and isolation of the Kothoga forever. A monster that would keep out the road builders and the prospectors and the miners that were poised to invade the tepui from the south and destroy them. They must have attempted to do with this white man what they had failed to do with their own kind: create a monster they could control. Perhaps they brewed him a liquor from the plant's leaves, or perhaps they simply forced him to eat the dried fibers. He wondered what Whittlesey must have felt: bound, perhaps ceremonially, being force-fed the reovirus from the strange plant he himself had collected just days earlier.
But not before Kawakita had found the fiber he needed. Margo herself had thrown it in the Museum incinerator several days after the disaster, as a precaution. But nobody had remembered to clean out Margo's handbag, which was notorious throughout the Anthropology Department for its untidiness. The lab where Margo had done the initial workwas now spotless, the plant press destroyed. The Secure Area had been painstakingly cleaned, and the crates had been emptied of their artifacts and burned, along with the packing material. All he'd needed was to find one of the fibers. Once he reconstructed what Frock and Margo had done with his program, everything else fell into place. "Keep the lights off," said Kawakita sharply. The computer gave the creature: He Who Walks On All Fours.
He was harvesting two pounds a week, and poised to increase his yield exponentially. The virus was concentrated in the tough, fibrous stem. It had proven to be a perversely attractive type of lily pad, blooming almost continuously, big deep-purple blossoms with venous appendages and bright yellow stamens. I think you'll find the results very gratifying." "Steep it in boiling water, that increases the concentration. The legend told it best: the devil failed to keep his bargain, and the child of the devil, the Mbwun, had run wild. They had tried to control its power, but failed. What appeared to be a blessing turned out for them to be a curse.
The Kothoga knew all about this plant, thought Kawakita.
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