Bond followed down a corridor and to a locked door. Crowley produced a key and opened it, then led the way in accompanied by Ingrid. All four of the guards brought up the rear, in case Bond had any thoughts of resisting.
It was cold, colder than the ground floor of the mansion had been. The stairs went up, taking a break on small landings every now and then, a lot further than Bond had anticipated. At the top was another locked door, this one clearly older than the one at ground level. The key Crowley brought out this time was massive and rusted, and the door creaked as it was opened.
Bond walked into a circular room, taking up the entire top floor of the tower. Oaken tables with flasks containing liquids he could only guess at were against the stone walls. Some of them were connected by thin glass pipes. Now and then an electrical transformer of some kind separated them.
Between the tables were larger electrical machines, with levers and meters covering almost all their surfaces. These machines were active; they hummed quietly but steadily, and the indicators on their meters flickered back and forth.
In the centre of the room were two long trolleys, of the sort that were used in operating theatres. A form lay on each, covered by heavy sheets. Crowley stood beside them, like an actor taking centre stage, with Ingrid at his side.
Bond could sense the guards’ uneasiness and understood that this was the first time they had been allowed up into the tower. They looked at each other shiftily, beginning to wonder if they really wanted to be here.
Their misgivings were apparent to more than Bond. Crowley laughed, saying, “It’s all right, gentlemen. Nothing to be alarmed about”.
“So you say, Lord Summerisle. I think there’s a lot to be alarmed about. Care to enlighten us?”
“Of course, Mr Bond. That is why we are here and you are not already dead. I want you to see what is being carried out here as the first steps in creating an indestructible army which will overrun first this country and then the world, led by myself and the beautiful Ingrid Blücher”.
From outside Bond thought he heard the faint sound of horses whinnying in fright.
“All that I told you is true. The evidence is right here in front of us”.
Crowley theatrically pulled back one of the sheets. On the trolley lay a gigantic figure in dark clothing with huge boots. The eyes were closed as if asleep, and the skin had a faint but definite greenish tinge.
“Yes, Mr Bond, this is “The Green Man” who was seen here all those years ago and has since passed into local folklore”, Crowley said.
The locals pulled back towards the door they had entered by. Crowley smiled at their discomfort.
“Nothing to worry about, gentlemen, he is in a dormant condition”, said Ingrid.
“He looks dead to me”, said Bond.
“Still you do not see”, Crowley shook his head. “He's alive. He's indestructible. Frankenstein's creation is man's challenge to the laws of life and death, an area in which I possess much experience as you may remember. Ingrid and I have proved his indestructability – we have shot him with bullets, stabbed him with swords, and still he lives”.
Bond wondered for a moment how the creature would have felt about that, but Crowley was still talking.
“The answer is beyond electricity, though that powers the process. Victor all those years ago was obliged to seek the power of lightning – see above you, Mr Bond”.
Bond looked up at a large skylight which could be opened by pulleys and ropes. The trolleys were also attached to ropes and could be raised at will.
“However, we in this century have the benefit of electrical power – in this case from our own generator at the rear of the building – as I shall demonstrate”.
He walked to one of the large transformers. There were three levers protruding, each with it’s own meter above it.
“Now, watch. All of you!”
He pulled one lever. The background hum grew stronger, and light flickered at what looked like a Tesla coil. The lights in the room dimmed. Crowley looked at his watch, clearly timing the interval, then pulled the second lever.
This time the humming became crackling. Beams of light flew across the room, being emitted by one device then received by another. Time seemed to stop, then with a loud groan the huge figure moved one hand.
It’s alive, thought Bond. Crowley cackled loudly, then stood by the levers as Ingrid helped the creature to it’s feet. It towered over her, and the faint green skin seemed to pulse with life. The skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun-white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips.
One of the locals pointed in terror.
“The Green Man!” he yelled. “The Green Man!”
His companions began to shout as Crowley tried to calm them down. “It is all right, please do not fear!” he said loudly but was ignored as his henchmen threw open the door and ran downstairs, almost tripping over each other in their terror.
The green figure looked first at Bond then Crowley. His recognition of Crowley and Ingrid was clear, and he obviously did not know Bond at all. Bond could only surmise that while he had been lying there enduring whatever painful procedures and invasions those two had inflicted upon his supine form, he had retained enough consciousness to be aware of them and recognise them now. Frankenstein’s creation walked to Crowley and easily took him in one hand while reaching for the third lever with the other.
“Get away from that lever!” a terrified Crowley yelled, all composure forsaken. “You’ll blow us all to atoms!”
The creature looked at Ingrid, crouching in terror behind the second trolley, from whose sheeted figure some frizzy black hair streaked with white escaped, then at Bond.
“Go”, he said in a cavernous tenor, “you live”. Then turned to the other two. “You stay. We belong dead”.
Ingrid screamed as Bond dived down the staircase. He heard the first explosions begin before he was halfway down, and ran faster and harder than he thought possible.
He managed to fall out of the front door of the mansion as the tower came crumbling down.
THE END
Epilogue
Two months later
Willow came out from the bathroom, terror on her face. What would her father say? What would he do? And then another thought brought a smile to her lips. She felt sure in herself that this would be a girl, and as her mother had done she would name her … Willow.
Comments
Chapter Six
Illustrations by Sonero
Bond followed down a corridor and to a locked door. Crowley produced a key and opened it, then led the way in accompanied by Ingrid. All four of the guards brought up the rear, in case Bond had any thoughts of resisting.
It was cold, colder than the ground floor of the mansion had been. The stairs went up, taking a break on small landings every now and then, a lot further than Bond had anticipated. At the top was another locked door, this one clearly older than the one at ground level. The key Crowley brought out this time was massive and rusted, and the door creaked as it was opened.
Bond walked into a circular room, taking up the entire top floor of the tower. Oaken tables with flasks containing liquids he could only guess at were against the stone walls. Some of them were connected by thin glass pipes. Now and then an electrical transformer of some kind separated them.
Between the tables were larger electrical machines, with levers and meters covering almost all their surfaces. These machines were active; they hummed quietly but steadily, and the indicators on their meters flickered back and forth.
In the centre of the room were two long trolleys, of the sort that were used in operating theatres. A form lay on each, covered by heavy sheets. Crowley stood beside them, like an actor taking centre stage, with Ingrid at his side.
Bond could sense the guards’ uneasiness and understood that this was the first time they had been allowed up into the tower. They looked at each other shiftily, beginning to wonder if they really wanted to be here.
Their misgivings were apparent to more than Bond. Crowley laughed, saying, “It’s all right, gentlemen. Nothing to be alarmed about”.
“So you say, Lord Summerisle. I think there’s a lot to be alarmed about. Care to enlighten us?”
“Of course, Mr Bond. That is why we are here and you are not already dead. I want you to see what is being carried out here as the first steps in creating an indestructible army which will overrun first this country and then the world, led by myself and the beautiful Ingrid Blücher”.
From outside Bond thought he heard the faint sound of horses whinnying in fright.
“All that I told you is true. The evidence is right here in front of us”.
Crowley theatrically pulled back one of the sheets. On the trolley lay a gigantic figure in dark clothing with huge boots. The eyes were closed as if asleep, and the skin had a faint but definite greenish tinge.
“Yes, Mr Bond, this is “The Green Man” who was seen here all those years ago and has since passed into local folklore”, Crowley said.
The locals pulled back towards the door they had entered by. Crowley smiled at their discomfort.
“Nothing to worry about, gentlemen, he is in a dormant condition”, said Ingrid.
“He looks dead to me”, said Bond.
“Still you do not see”, Crowley shook his head. “He's alive. He's indestructible. Frankenstein's creation is man's challenge to the laws of life and death, an area in which I possess much experience as you may remember. Ingrid and I have proved his indestructability – we have shot him with bullets, stabbed him with swords, and still he lives”.
Bond wondered for a moment how the creature would have felt about that, but Crowley was still talking.
“The answer is beyond electricity, though that powers the process. Victor all those years ago was obliged to seek the power of lightning – see above you, Mr Bond”.
Bond looked up at a large skylight which could be opened by pulleys and ropes. The trolleys were also attached to ropes and could be raised at will.
“However, we in this century have the benefit of electrical power – in this case from our own generator at the rear of the building – as I shall demonstrate”.
He walked to one of the large transformers. There were three levers protruding, each with it’s own meter above it.
“Now, watch. All of you!”
He pulled one lever. The background hum grew stronger, and light flickered at what looked like a Tesla coil. The lights in the room dimmed. Crowley looked at his watch, clearly timing the interval, then pulled the second lever.
This time the humming became crackling. Beams of light flew across the room, being emitted by one device then received by another. Time seemed to stop, then with a loud groan the huge figure moved one hand.
It’s alive, thought Bond. Crowley cackled loudly, then stood by the levers as Ingrid helped the creature to it’s feet. It towered over her, and the faint green skin seemed to pulse with life. The skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun-white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips.
One of the locals pointed in terror.
“The Green Man!” he yelled. “The Green Man!”
His companions began to shout as Crowley tried to calm them down. “It is all right, please do not fear!” he said loudly but was ignored as his henchmen threw open the door and ran downstairs, almost tripping over each other in their terror.
The green figure looked first at Bond then Crowley. His recognition of Crowley and Ingrid was clear, and he obviously did not know Bond at all. Bond could only surmise that while he had been lying there enduring whatever painful procedures and invasions those two had inflicted upon his supine form, he had retained enough consciousness to be aware of them and recognise them now. Frankenstein’s creation walked to Crowley and easily took him in one hand while reaching for the third lever with the other.
“Get away from that lever!” a terrified Crowley yelled, all composure forsaken. “You’ll blow us all to atoms!”
The creature looked at Ingrid, crouching in terror behind the second trolley, from whose sheeted figure some frizzy black hair streaked with white escaped, then at Bond.
“Go”, he said in a cavernous tenor, “you live”. Then turned to the other two. “You stay. We belong dead”.
Ingrid screamed as Bond dived down the staircase. He heard the first explosions begin before he was halfway down, and ran faster and harder than he thought possible.
He managed to fall out of the front door of the mansion as the tower came crumbling down.
THE END
Epilogue
Two months later
Willow came out from the bathroom, terror on her face. What would her father say? What would he do? And then another thought brought a smile to her lips. She felt sure in herself that this would be a girl, and as her mother had done she would name her … Willow.
Barbel...
👏👏👏👏👏
Bravo!
Thank you, Sonero. And thank you also for the illustrations
You are most welcome Barbel.
What a fabulous crossover story…loved that…and Willow Bond 😮🤣
Thanks, Sir Miles. I hope @chrisno1 forgives me for the ending, I don't plan to be coming back to that again.
@Barbel Super story, great ending.
@Sonero Another comic masterpiece 😂
Thank you for the kind words @CoolHandBond.
The inspiration for this absurd comic strip came from this passage in the novel.
Dr. No is an avid stamp collector.
Thanks CHB, and Sonero that is crazy! 😅😅😅
Thank you @Barbel for the kind words.
The comic strips referred to above now have their own dedicated thread at
https://www.ajb007.co.uk/discussion/57487/imaginary-comic-strips#latest
And very good it is too 👍🏻