Margaret could not resist staring, slack-jawed, at everything they passed.
‘I have to admit, it is kinda spectacular,’ she admitted. ‘It’s beyond anything I could have ever imagined out here in the jungle.’
‘This was not always only jungle, as I mentioned. You have much to learn about the world, I think, despite what you think you know. Fear not though, for I will teach you well.’
Barbed thorns of scepticism bristled throughout Margaret’s entire being at the General’s perceived arrogance and patronising attitude, but she quickly recalled where she was, and how vulnerable and helpless she was out here, so she did her best to suppress these thoughts. Instead, she allowed herself to marvel at the sight that was unfolding before her, and found herself wondering if she was, like some explorer of old, the first Caucasian to be laying eyes on this long-lost treasure, which had somehow survived the slothfully-destructive passage of the centuries.
Soon they were on the valley floor, traversing the gleaming road and approaching the imposing city gates. The darkness of night was closing in, but there was enough daylight left to still observe the spectacle quite clearly. The gates themselves were open, although had they been shut they would have presented a six-metre-tall barrier to any army wishing to invade. The pillars supporting the gates were carved in the shape of two gorillas, holding up the gates with stone arms, sculpted in incredible detail in an artistic style that seemed, strangely, to meld elements of Ancient Egyptian, Sumerian, Mayan and Greek art.
Margaret could not help but gasp with wonder as they passed through these gates. She had visited the ruins of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, and as awe-inspiring as they had been, they paled in comparison to what she was seeing here. Tall stone walls abounded, as did sprawling buildings and temples, all wrought in an architectural style that was at once stunning and ominously threatening. The artistic details were omnipresent and almost overpowering; every wall face seemed to feature intricate scenes done in relief carving.
The streets were broad and open, and while there seemed to be a lot of soldiers around, the sheer size of the city, in comparison to how many people were in it, made it seem distinctly empty. The train of wild animals continued their march straight on, heading down what seemed to be the main road, at the end of which a large palace loomed.
‘Ting,’ she whispered, feeling a stabbing pang of longing for her lover half a world away, ‘if only you could see what I’m seeing.’ She chuckled mirthlessly as she realised the breathtakingly immense opportunity that lay before her … and her complete inability to capitalise on it in any way whatsoever. ‘Christ Ting … I don’t even have a phone camera on me. Nothing. There’s no way of recording anything I’ve seen in the past few days. None at all. Even if I were to somehow make it out of this mess alive, to get back home to you … Jesus, nobody would believe a word about, about, any of this! They’d call me crazy. Maybe … maybe even you would call me crazy. But this … this is real, Ting, my word, it’s really real, it’s happening to me! I’m not crazy, I swear I’m not.’
After a few minutes they reached the palace, which, like the rest of the buildings, was constructed of heavy stone, and carved all over with detailed relief scenes of gods, animals and fantastic beings. The outer walls were solid and high – six or seven metres, with crenelated battlements on top – and above them impressive spiral-carved turrets soared up even higher, sporting stabbing spires at their tops. Margaret shuddered as she looked up at the battlements and noticed teenage troops manning anti-aircraft guns and heavy machine guns, all of them glaring down at her with ice frosting their eyes.
‘Doctor,’ the General’s voice said inside her mind as he got down on his knees, ‘I am going to put you down, because I need to transform back into my human form now that we have entered the city. As he did before, my lieutenant will assist you.’
Again the gorilla came bounding up to the General’s flank, and with strong but gentle hands he helped Margaret down and set her down on the ground. He supported her until she could stand steadily, for after an entire day on the elephant’s back she could hardly retain her footing without wobbling and swaying, so stiff and sore were her joints.
‘I’m good, I’m good, thank you,’ she murmured after rubbing and massaging her knees and ankles for a while.
The gorilla nodded and ambled back to his place, and then the General shifted back into his human form. The process of transformation was just as surreal and disturbing the second time she saw it, and it took a monumental effort to stop herself from shrieking and collapsing. Once again, as if she were watching some black-and-white stop-motion horror film sped up by a thousand-fold, the General’s body bulged and rippled and bubbled and changed colour, and in a mere second, in the space before her, which had been occupied by a towering African elephant, there now stood only a man.
Two teenage attendants dressed in camouflage fatigues rushed up to him and presented him with freshly ironed clothes: an officer’s dress uniform in spotless white, replete with gold and royal blue epaulettes, lampasses, braids, lanyards and trim, and a number of interestingly styled badges.
‘Please excuse me,’ he said to Margaret as he got dressed in front of her. ‘Necessity dictates such immodesty?’
Margaret,
