Страница 93 из 110
“How did you do that?”
“I've been radiating a mesmeric influence to make you all consider me harmless and friendly.”
They reached the cavern floor, and K'k'thyima directed them along a well-worn path toward the buildings at the foot of the temple.
“So we were at an impasse. We couldn't shatter the other two Eyes while our South American and African colonies still lived, for it would have physically killed them. Nor could we stand to exist in a state of disco
“But the essence of you continued to dwell in the Eyes?” Burton asked.
“Yes, and now we had to wait for your species to discover the diamonds.”
“Why?”
“So that we might use you to bring equivalence. As high priest, I was the only one of my people whose essence spa
Up ahead, figures were slouching out of doorways and sliding out of glassless windows. A large crowd of them gathered and loped forward to meet the approaching party. They were small and ape-like, with skin of a dull-white hue, and their eyes were strange and large and greyish-red. Shaggy flaxen hair descended to their shoulders and grew down their backs, and they moved with their arms held low, sometimes resorting to all fours. Thoroughly nightmarish in aspect, they proved too much for Speke. With a wail of terror, he threw himself backward.
“Hold him!” K'k'thyima ordered.
Burton and Trounce grabbed the lieutenant. He fought them, emitting animalistic whines of fear.
“They aren't going to harm you!” the priest said. “They'll just escort us into the temple,”
Speke finally quietened down when the hideous troglodytes, rather than attacking, simply fell into position beside the group.
As they entered among the squat buildings, the brass man instructed the Britishers to walk straight ahead to the central thoroughfare, then turn right and proceed along it. They followed his instructions and saw, some way ahead, the tall double doors of the temple entrance.
“Everything!” Burton suddenly exclaimed. “Bismillah! You orchestrated everything!You planted in Edward Oxford an irrational obsession about his ancestor so he'd travel back in time and cause all of the Eyes to be discovered! You manipulated Rasputin so you could occupy that clockwork body, commandeer Herbert Spencer's mind, and shatter the South American Eye! And you caused that damned babbage to be grafted onto Speke's brain so he'd lead me here!”
“That has been my song,” K'k'thyima confessed. “And now we shall shatter the last of the Eyes and the Naga will be free.”
Passing blocky, unadorned buildings, they came to the foot of a broad set of steps leading up to the temple's imposing arched entrance. They ascended, and a group of Batembuzi put their shoulders to the doors and pushed. As the portals swung slowly inward, Burton asked, “But what of the fragments Oxford cut from the South American Eye for his time suit? Surely they unbalance the equivalence you seek?”
“Soon, Sir Richard, you will discover the beauty and elegance of paradox. Those shards were cut in a future where the stone was complete. I changed that future when, earlier in the same diamond's history, I broke it into seven. Thus the pieces could not be cut from it.”
“I don't understand any of this,” Trounce grumbled.
The clockwork man gave a soft hoot. “Do not be embarrassed, William. Non-linear time and multiplying histories are concepts that most soft skins struggle with. For your kind, it is virtually impossible to escape the imprisoning chains of narrative structure. We have come here to address that deficiency.”
“Oh. How comforting.”
They entered a prodigious and opulent chamber. Its floor was chequered with alternating gold and black hexagonal tiles. The walls were carved into bas reliefs, inset with thousands of precious gemstones, and the ceiling was a solid blanket of scintillating phosphorescence from which hung censers forged from precious metals and decorated with diamonds.
Oddly, though, the chamber reminded Burton and Trounce less of a temple and more of Battersea Power Station, for there were strange structures arrayed around the floor and walls; things that appeared to be half-mineral formation and half-machine, with, dominating the centre of the space, a thick floor-to-ceiling column made up of alternating layers of crystalline and metallic materials.
Despite the abundance of precious stones on display, there was an air of abandonment about the place. As they passed through the chamber and started up a winding stairwell, Burton noted that many of the gems had fallen from their housings in the patterned walls and were lying scattered around the floor. There were cracks and crumblings in evidence everywhere, and at one point they had to step over a wide hole where the stone steps had collapsed and fallen away.
“Straight ahead, please, gentlemen.”
“My bloody legs!” Trounce groaned as they climbed higher and higher.
The stairs led up to a long, wide hall with gold-panelled double doors at its far end. Fourteen statues stood against the walls, seven to each side. They depicted Naga, squatting on short plinths, some with one head, some with five, some with seven.
At K'k'thyima's command, the three men approached the doors. The brass man clanked past, holding his gun levelled at Burton's face, took hold of a handle with his free hand, and pulled one of the portals open far enough for the men to pass through it.
“Enter, please, gents.”
They stepped into what turned out to be a medium-sized room. It was square and the walls were panelled with oblongs of phosphorescence. The tall ceiling was shaped like an upside-down pyramid, with an enormous black diamond the size of a goose egg fitted into an ornate bracket at its tip.
“The last unbroken Eye of Naga!” K'k'thyima a
A stone altar was laid out beneath the gemstone. Metal manacles were fitted to it, and there were stains on its surface that Burton didn't want to examine too closely. Gold chalices, containing heaps of black-diamond dust, stood to either side. The explorer noted nasty-looking instruments, like something one might find in a surgery, arranged on a nearby block, and there were other items around the room that, again, looked somehow more machine than architecture or decoration.
“William, Mr. Speke, if you would move over there-” K'k'thyima gestured to one side of the chamber, “-and Sir Richard, I'd be much obliged if you'd climb onto the altar and lie down.”
“Do you intend to sacrifice me, Naga?”
The clockwork man gave his soft hooting chuckle. “Rest assured, you'll leave here alive. On you get, please, or-” he moved the pistol, aiming it at Trounce, “-or do I have to shoot William in the leg before you'll comply?”
Scowling ferociously, Burton sat on the altar, swung his legs up, and lay down. Immediately, he felt an energy, like static electricity, crawling over his skin.
With one hand, K'k'thyima closed the manacles around the explorer's wrists and ankles.
Speke, who'd been detached and withdrawn since they'd entered the temple, suddenly spoke up: “Wait! Whatever you're going to do, do it to me instead!”
“I'm afraid that wouldn't be at all satisfactory,” K'k'thyima responded. “Only this man is suitable for the task.”
Speke fell to his knees and held his hands out imploringly. “Please!”
“Quite impossible. Stand up, Mr. Speke, and be quiet. The song will not require you again until the final verse.”
“Task?” Burton asked.
K'k'thyima picked up a wicked-looking knife from among the instruments on the nearby block.