The group had lost two of its members by then, but there was nothing they could do except forge ahead, nerves stretched to the breaking point. Finally, having cut their way through another door and successfully made their way through a gauntlet of swinging blades, they saw a dim glow in the distance. Then, having just emerged from a series of what might have been defensive points, they stepped out onto the narrow gallery that circled the huge globe-shaped chamber. And there, fl?oating at the very center of the space, lay the emperor’s mummifi?ed body. Beams of sunlight had been channeled down through the top of the pyramid to bathe Hios in gold and warm his ancient bones. In spite of the multitudinous layers of dust that covered the funeral bier, it was still possible to see the solar-powered synsilks in which the body had been wrapped and the scintillating rainbow of colors they produced. Of equal interest, to Hasa at least, was what appeared to be a console located at the head of the bier, and more specifically, the lever that protruded from the center of the curvilinear structure. What happens if you pull on it? the minder wondered, as he ran his tongue over dry lips. Something important—or why place it there?
There was a moment of silence as the entire group stared at the sight before them. Rebo was the fi?rst to speak. “That platform has got to be a hundred feet away. . . . How in the world are we going to reach it?”
“You aren’t,” Hasa answered hoarsely, as his pistol came into sudden alignment with Norr’s head. “This is where we part company. . . . Who knows? Maybe you can make your way back the way we came. Thog, keep an eye on them while Vamer, Pamak, Obo, and Rang carry me to the platform. Oh, and it would be a good idea to pull the runner’s teeth so he can’t fi?re on us from here.”
“Throw your weapons over the side,” Thog ordered, and jerked the barrel of his light submachine gun toward the edge of the abyss.
The runner was reluctant to part with the recently acquired handguns, very reluctant, but knew he had no choice. One by one he removed the pistols from their holsters and tossed them over the side. There was a faint clatter as they hit the fl?oor far below. Norr was armed with the sword she had stolen on Derius, but it was slung across her back and was therefore useless.
“Good,” Hasa said, as he returned his pistol to its holster.
“I’m glad to see you’re going to be sensible about this. . . . Now stand back and give us some room.”
Rebo and Norr were forced to retreat into the passageway as four of Kufu’s variants took up positions around Hasa, secured grips on the minder’s harness, and extended their wings. Although the norm was deadweight, he was relatively small, and the soldiers were strong. The leathery triangles of skin that were stretched between their arms and torsos made a whuf, whuf, whuf sound as Hasa was hoisted up into the air and carried out toward the platform beyond. Shadows fell across the funeral bier, and wings thumped warm air, as Lysander “watched” the tomb raiders began to close with what had been his body. And that was when the man who had been emperor remembered still another detail about his tomb and began to laugh.
As the pyramids came to the southernmost extent of their range and began a long, dignifi?ed turn toward the west, King Kufu saw a series of fl?ashes march along the top of a distant rise and knew that King Horus’s artillery had opened fi?re. Confi?rmation of that supposition came in the form of loud shrieks and a line of explosions that tossed men and animals high into the hot afternoon air. They seemed to hang there, as if suspended by the same force that kept the pyramids aloft, before falling back to the planet’s surface. The tomb raider could hardly complain, however, since the war had been set into motion by his decision to unilaterally land a party of grave robbers on the largest of the three pyramids, thereby raising the possibility that his forces would empty the structure of whatever riches lay within before his peers could steal their share. Now, in a rare display of cooperation, Horus and Tepho had launched a coordinated attack on Kufu’s forces in an attempt to break him. The answer, to Kufu’s mind at least, was to quickly and effi?ciently eliminate the weakest of his opponents and thereby reduce the odds. So, having chosen Tepho as his fi?rst victim, Kufu ordered his forces to charge. Then, having given the two-mile-long line thirty seconds to react, the king laid his long supple whip onto the backs of the angens in front of him. The animals screamed, jerked the three-man chariot forward, and began to run. Moments later 562 other charioteers began to roll as four companies of red-clad wings swept in to provide air cover, and an army of more than a thousand armored heavies began a ponderous march. Meanwhile, to the south, Tepho eyed the screen in front of him and smiled grimly as the enemy swept toward him. Kufu was an idiot, proof of which could be seen in his decision to attack the Techno Society’s army fi?rst, hoping for an easy victory. Because rather than simply invest in brute force, Tepho had put his money into technology, which he often referred to as “the great multiplier.” And, making the contest even more delicious was that while Kufu led his forces into what would almost certainly prove to be a disastrous battle, Tepho planned to steal Logos right out from under the fool’s nose!
The air crackled with radio traffi?c, and servos whined as three beautifully restored raptors took to the fi?eld of battle, their energy weapons burping blue death. Tepho, who had chosen to pilot the centermost machine himself, felt a sudden surge of elation. Because within the cramped cockpit, and in spite of his malformed body, he was a warrior!
Because Kufu was intent on closing with the enemy as soon as possible, he ordered his artillery to stop fi?ring and was leading a long line of charioteers south when three hundred heavily armed metal men erupted from the sand in front of him. They leveled their automatic weapons and began to fi?re. Angens screamed as they went down, and chariots tumbled end over end, even as Kufu’s wings swept in to attack the androids from above. Columns of sand fl?ew up into the air as grenades went off, robots were dismembered, and their appendages began to rain down out of the sky. Then, drums thumping, Kufu’s heavies arrived on the scene. War hammers rose and fell with the regularity of pistons as the variants attacked the surviving metal men, only to be ripped to pieces by bursts of bullets, or the pulses of bright blue energy that originated from Tepho’s steadily advancing raptors.
It was a hellish scene, and one that Kufu, who had been lucky enough to survive the initial onslaught, would never forget. The artifact king was on foot by then, his throat raw from screaming commands, and no longer confi? dent of victory. Survival, that was all Kufu could hope for, as everything he had worked so hard to build began to crumble. As what promised to be an epic battle began to unfold a couple of miles to the south, and the pyramids sailed along the edge of the far horizon, Hoggles watched from the top level of the nearly deserted tower. The heavy knew it was stupid, but he was lonely, and jealous as well. Because even though Hoggles knew that his love for Norr was hopeless, he had long taken pleasure from simply being in the sensitive’s presence, and now even that bittersweet enjoyment had been denied him.
And, as if to add insult to injury, Rebo and Norr had left him to guard Logos. Having more than doubled in size, and taken on the appearance of a hip-length jacket, the computer was in a good position to needle the heavy from time to time, and seemed to take pleasure in doing so. Meanwhile, as the heavy stared out across the battlefi?eld, the sentry nearest to the stairs saw the air in front of him shimmer. He blinked to clear his eyes, saw what might have been a materialized spirit, and opened his mouth to shout a warning. But a hand blurred past his face, something tugged at his throat, and a sheet of blood fl?ew out to splash the hot decking.
The body was still falling as Shaz spun away, slashed a second throat, and paused to shoot each of the remaining guards. The rhythmic bang, bang, bang generated by the semiautomatic pistol served to echo the artillery rounds that continued to pound what remained of King Kufu’s army.
Hoggles heard the pistol shots, lifted his war hammer, and turned toward the sound. The heavy was shocked by what he saw—and confused as well. There were bodies, lots of bodies, but where were the attackers?
Having eliminated all of his opponents with the exception of the heavy, Shaz allowed himself to be seen.
