Gideon felt Trigger slump beside him, and he put out a supporting arm. Trigger said, “He’s . . . dead, then?”
Okoth gave a massive shrug of his shoulders. “Dead? Who can tell? And what is death, anyway? You know, the Egyptians believe in—”
“Stow the theology,” said Cockayne testily. “Is Reed dead, or not?”
Okoth placed his hands on his knees. “Well, all I can say is he went into the pyramid, and he never came out.”
“The pyramid?” said Gideon. “The lost Rhodopis Pyramid? He found it?”
Okoth laughed richly. “You English are astonishingly funny, Mr. Gideon Smith. You always think something is lost unless you find it yourselves.”
Gideon helped Trigger to a chair. He had grown suddenly old and feeble, much as he had first looked when he stood on his doorstep on Grosvenor Square. Trigger put his hand to his head. “I always thought . . . John always survived. No matter what happened, he always won out, at the end.”
“Did you actually see him die?” asked Gideon quietly.
“I did not,” said Okoth. “He went into the pyramid and did not come out. I waited for a day and a night, and returned every few days for a month, but there was no sign.”
“He could have survived,” said Gideon, though he sounded doubtful even to himself. “Perhaps he is still inside, or effected an escape while Mr. Okoth was not there.”
Trigger shook his head sadly. “If John had left the pyramid, why would he have not come home to me? He has fallen victim to the Children of Heqet, undoubtedly. And even if he did manage to survive those fiends . . . he would not have lasted long in the pyramid.”
“There might have been food,” said Gideon desperately.
Trigger’s voice dropped to a whisper. “John had . . . other hungers. He was no stranger to Limehouse, if you get my meaning.”
Gideon did not, and he looked up. Bent laid a hand on his shoulder. “I think Trigger means he was an opium addict.”
Trigger nodded sadly. “He would have died in a mindless frenzy without the drug, even before the hunger got him.”
Okoth leaned forward and said seriously, “I knew about Doctor Reed’s . . . requirements. I had to get Mori to procure something for him in the souk.” He rubbed his finger and thumb together. “Kef, from Morocco. Hashish.”
They stood silently in the hot, airless room for a moment, then Gideon said, “We cannot give up hope. Mr. Okoth, can you take us to the Rhodopis Pyramid?”
He broke out into a wide grin. “Astonishingly, I can do just that.” He frowned. “But wait. You said Heqet, did you not? The astonishingly ugly frog-faced goddess of these heathen Egyptians?”
Gideon glanced at Trigger. “We did, yes. You know of them? The Children of Heqet?”
“Astonishing commotion in the souk today,” said Okoth. “An Egyptian fisherman came running through, all of a fluster, claiming to have seen monsters in the river.”
“Monsters?” said Gideon.
“Monsters,” agreed Okoth. “Frog-faced monsters, he said, with cruel teeth. And more! Astonishing! They had a woman with them, an English woman, blond of hair and pale of skin! Under the water, but her eyes were open!”
Gideon gasped. “Maria!”
“When was this, Okoth?” said Cockayne.
Okoth shrugged. “Dawn, he said.”
“We’ve got to go after them!” said Gideon. “Mr. Cockayne . . . ?”
Cockayne shrugged. “OK. I’m interested. We can take the Yellow Rose upriver for a bit, if you like. But I ain’t putting myself in harm’s way for anyone, Pledge or no Pledge.”
“All pyramids are built to the west of the Nile,” Okoth said, when Alexandria was far behind them and lost to sight. He had directed Cockayne to follow the vast river until it was time to bank off into the desert. “For that is where the sun sets, and thus that way lies the land of the dead.”
“Are all pyramids tombs?” asked Gideon. He could not believe a people who lived in such rich sunlight and among such suffocating heat could be so obsessed with the cold darkness of death.
“Indeed,” nodded Okoth. “They were built to resemble Ben-ben, the mound that rose from the primordial waters of Nu, and on which the first rays of the sun fell.” He laughed. “Those Egyptians were astonishingly crazy. Everybody knows the world was created by Katonda, the big eye in the sky, the father of all the gods and the father of all living men.”
For a while Gideon watched the passage of the Nile below them, the land around it remarkably green and fertile. Gideon had thought Egypt a place of sand and little else. Vast tracts of land near the river were swollen and flooded, and he could make out lumpish gray shapes gathered in the shallows of the floodwaters. “What are those?”
“That is the hippopotamus!” Okoth grinned. “The big fat river horse.” He cocked his head and regarded Bent. “There is not an insignificant likeness to yourself, good sir.”
“Cheeky ass,” sniffed Bent as Gideon hid a smirk behind his hand. “What else have you got down there?”
“Birds with long curved bills, the ibises, very important in Egypt. The mongoose. Tortoises. The Nile Monitor, very nasty lizard, very strong jaws.” Okoth snapped his hands together in a sharp clap.
“Don’t like the sound of that much,” said Bent.
Okoth said, “Very temperamental creatures. But not as bad as the crocodiles.”
Bent stared at him. “Crocodiles? Running wild?”
“Oh yes,” said Okoth. “Wild and fast. Snap, snap, snap!” He collapsed into peals of laughter again.
Okoth tapped Gideon on the shoulder and pointed toward the river. “Now, isn’t that a most astonishingly curious sight?”
At first, Gideon couldn’t see anything beyond the wading birds and half-hidden hippos, but as he stared beyond Okoth’s outstretched finger he eventually made out a disturbance in the center of the wide river, a series of swirling eddies and the occasional small black shape breaking the surface.
“Is that them?” he said quietly. “Maria?”
“I’ll bring us down a little,” said Cockayne, and the Yellow Rose dipped, casting a widening shadow over the brown waters. As the ’stat drew level with the activity in the river below, Cockayne killed the engines.
“Great Scott,” said Trigger. “It is truly them. The Children of Heqet.”
“And Maria!” said Gideon. “Encircled within them!”
“Are you telling me they’ve effing swum from London to Egypt?” asked Bent.
“She isn’t moving,” said Gideon, peering down from the window.
“I suppose if they are after what is in her head they would not care if she lived or died,” observed Bathory.
Stoker raised an eyebrow and murmured, “Elizabeth . . .”
She glanced at him, then at Gideon. “Apologies. I did not mean . . .”
“We don’t know if Maria can truly die,” put in Trigger quickly.
“What with her not being alive to begin with,” said Cockayne. He turned to Gideon, resting on the instrument panel. “So, what’s your plan?”
“Might I make a suggestion?” asked Trigger.
“No,” said Cockayne, continuing to stare coolly at Gideon. “I want to know what Mr. Smith is going to do.”
Gideon swallowed dryly and looked from face to face. Fanshawe gave him an encouraging smile. “Er,” said Gideon, then closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Remember Vanuatu, West of Fiji?”
Trigger nodded. “Go on.”
“John Reed rescued Mr. Cockayne from the caldera of the volcano after accompanying a rescue mission with the Fleet Air Arm dirigible John Carter.”
Cockayne smiled crookedly. “Not how I remember it. Must be your artistic license, Trigger. But let’s say he did. How?”
“A cable,” said Gideon. “We could . . . we could use those cables you used to harpoon Rowena’s ’stat. Lower someone down to get Maria.”
Cockayne mused. “Might work. But how would you get her from those creatures?
”
Gideon thought for a moment. “A diversion. Something to scatter them. Perhaps some gunfire, or . . .”
“Or that effing big gun!” said Bent excitedly. “You said you had one, didn’t you, Cockayne?”
Cockayne smiled tightly. “Good plan, Smith. I’d propose lowering Rowena down.”
Gideon looked up. “What? No. No, I’ll go.”
“I’m lighter,” said Fanshawe. “I’ll need someone strong to haul me up, especially when I get Maria. You should do that.”
“Mr. Okoth can take the wheel of the Yellow Rose.” Cockayne nodded. “We’ll get out on to the observation deck. Come, Mr. Bent, let us bring out the Hotchkiss. Mr. Stoker? We could probably do with your help. It’s rather a fearsome beast.”
“Wait,” said Bathory. They turned to her. “I have traveled halfway across the world for my revenge. I will not be denied now. I must engage the Children of Heqet.”
“They appear to be in their natural element,” said Stoker. “Is it wise, at this stage?”
“Why don’t we see how Mr. Smith’s plan works out,” said Cockayne. “Okoth, the Yellow Rose is yours.”
Okoth grinned broadly and took the wheel as Cockayne led them to the observation deck, sheltered from the sun beneath the huge balloon of the ’stat. Fanshawe began to clip the thick cable from the winding mechanism that had snared the Skylady II to her belt, and Cockayne had Stoker and Gideon help him manhandle the huge gun and its tripod out to the deck.
“How interesting, they can survive in the seas and fresh water,” said Stoker.
“Perhaps they are more amphibian than aquatic,” suggested Trigger. “Or perhaps they can breathe both, as I believe manatees do.”
“She moved!” said Gideon excitedly as he peered over the railing. “I saw Maria move!”
“Then we need to be careful where we aim,” said Cockayne. “Though, from what you’ve said, the automaton’s pretty hardy. Mr. Bent!”
Bent nodded, positioned behind the Hotchkiss. Cockayne said, “The recoil’s going to blow you on your fat ass if you’re not careful, so be ready. Take into account the fact the Children of Heqet are moving forward, and we’re drifting slightly to the left of them. Got them in your sights? Good, then swing it forward . . . a little smoother . . . not so far . . . wait . . . now!”
The Hotchkiss boomed and, as Cockayne had warned, threw Bent backward. Gideon peered over the side as the shell impacted into the water, throwing up a huge gout of brown water.
“Reload!” said Cockayne. “And another one! Behind them this time!”
Bent let loose a second shell, the observation deck shuddering, and began to reload again. His third shot was placed to the right of the Children of Heqet, and it seemed to do the job. The creatures scattered in the river, leaving Maria floating alone, her arms bound tightly to her sides with a coil of rope.
“I’m going over,” announced Fanshawe. Gideon took up the winding handle and braced himself as she stood with her boot heels on the lip of the deck, leaning backward out into thin air. She gave him a salute and a wink. “Don’t worry, Gideon, I’ll get your girl back.”
“She’s not my—” Gideon started to say, but Fanshawe had kicked out and begun to descend. He grabbed the handle and arrested her fall, then began to reel out more cable, already sweating in the fierce sun.
Cockayne, who was looking over the side, shouted, “Enough, Smith, she’s down.”
“What’s happening?” asked Gideon.
“Oh, bravo, Rowena!” announced Trigger. “She’s got Maria!”
“The frogs are closing in.” Cockayne frowned. “They sure move fast.”
“Oh!” gasped Trigger. “One of the Children of Heqet has grasped Maria’s ankle!”
Cockayne picked up the rifle he’d leaned against the railings, then paused. “Stoker, take the crank. Gideon, come here.”
Gideon did as he was bid, and Cockayne thrust the gun into his hands. “Stoker, keep winding. Gideon, hit that thing.”
“Me?” said Gideon. “For God’s sake, Cockayne, do it!”
“I concur,” said Trigger. “This isn’t a training exercise, Mr. Cockayne.”
Cockayne continued to stare at Gideon, until he sighed and hefted the stock of the rifle to his shoulder. “I’ve never fired one of these things,” he muttered.
“Line up the cross-hairs in the sight,” said Cockayne. “Get the thing’s face right in the middle.”
Below, Fanshawe was grimly holding on to the ropes around Maria as the mummy clutched the clockwork girl’s ankle. He could see Maria’s panic-stricken face, and more Children of Heqet closing in. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his finger tightened on the trigger. He had one chance, then the rest of the creatures would be upon Maria. Why the hell couldn’t Cockayne have done it? He brought the mummy’s face into sharp relief in the sight, its wide mouth dribbling and its teeth gnashing as it reached another clawed hand toward Maria, then squeezed.
The report deafened him and the recoil punched him away from the railing. There was silence for a moment as he regained his balance, then Cockayne let loose a whoop. “You did it, Gideon! Smack in the forehead! Wind that crank, Mr. Stoker!”
Gideon threw the rifle at Cockayne and elbowed Stoker away from the winding mechanism. “I’ll do it,” he said, turning the handle until he saw Fanshawe’s hand wave at him from the edge of the deck. Trigger and Cockayne rushed to help her up, and together they hauled Maria over the side.
She was drenched, her clothes in rags, her hair matted and tangled with weeds. She was utterly beautiful. She gasped and looked at them, from face to face, until she finally settled on Gideon.
“You came for me. Across the world. You came and rescued me,” she murmured.
Cockayne patted Gideon on the shoulder. “You did good, Smith. You did good.”
He was about to say something to Maria that was only half- formed in his head, buoyed upon feelings he didn’t really know how to explain, when Bathory hissed. They turned to see her leaning over the railing.
“The Children of Heqet have sunk below the surface,” she said. “The reckoning is still to come.”
They helped Maria on to the bridge, and Okoth clapped his hands as Cockayne took the wheel. Trigger said, “Mr. Okoth, back in Alexandria you said you might be able to take us to the site of the Rhodopis Pyramid. . . .”
Okoth beamed. “Astonishingly,” he said, “I can do just that. We must go west. West to the land of the dead.”
25
The Lost Pyramid of Rhodopis
“Is that it?” asked Bent. “Somebody tell me we didn’t come halfway across the effing world for that.”
Bent had temporarily removed himself from the cool shadow in the lee of the Yellow Rose. True to the big Ugandan’s word, there were slabs of ancient, cracked pale stone scattered on the sand to which the Yankee could moor the ’stat. There was also a structure which Okoth had proudly introduced as the Pyramid of Rhodopis. After seeing it, Bent had to chuckle. He liked this Okoth; he was a man with a sense of humor, which this venture had been sorely lacking to date. The pyramid was made from the same stone as the blocks and broken columns half-buried in the white, hot sand, its four sides rising to a sharp point. It stood all of fifteen feet tall.
“I suppose this effing Rhodopis was some kind of effing circus dwarf?” complained Bent. He was all for a giggle, but not one that took so much effing effort, and in such heat.
Gideon said, “I don’t understand. I was given to believe the pyramids were huge.”
Okoth nodded enthusiastically. “Astonishing. Monstrous.” Then he laughed deeply, holding on to Gideon’s shoulder. “Oh, Mr. Smith. I see your confusion. You thought this was the Rhodopis Pyramid, in its majestic entirety? Oh, dear me. How astonishing. No, no. Mr. Smith . . . all of you . . . you must understand Egypt is a capricious, secretive place. What one sees one day might be gone forever the next. The landscape moves and shifts like an ocean, or a living thing. That is why there are no r
eal maps of Egypt! Might as well just have a piece of yellow paper.” He laughed again. “This is merely the tip of the pyramid. The rest is far below, under the desert, lost to the moving sands of time. And so it has been for many generations.”
“But you said John Reed had entered the pyramid,” said Gideon. “You said you would take us to where—”
“I said I would take you to the pyramid, which I have done.” Okoth smiled. “Do you wish also to see the place where Dr. Reed gained access?”
Trigger looked up. Gideon breathed out and said, “Yes, Mr. Okoth, yes we would.”
“Then back aboard Mr. Cockayne’s astonishing airship!” commanded Okoth. “Back east, Mr. Cockayne, to the river.”
“Pretty little thing, for a machine,” Cockayne said, seemingly half to himself, as he piloted the ’stat back toward the Nile.
Bent dropped his voice to a whisper. “Gideon said he saw her bubbies.”
Cockayne smirked. “Careful what you say about that. The boy’s in love with her.”
Bent stared at him.
Cockayne shrugged. “Seen stranger things in the world, Mr. Bent.”
Fanshawe had taken Maria off to wash away the detritus of her journey and get her some new clothes, and Bent saw Gideon waiting expectantly on the bridge for their return. Could he really be in love with Maria? The more Bent thought about it, the more he wondered if it was such an outrageous thing. She was pretty, she was intelligent, she was . . . well, for all intents and purposes, she wasn’t much different than a real woman. He grinned to himself. And if she got to nagging, you could always let her wind down.
Gideon gasped. Maria, her hair tied in a loose bun, stepped on to the bridge, wearing brown leather boots, beige jodhpurs, and a crisp white shirt.
“We’re almost the same size.” Fanshawe smiled. “It’s been a long time since I had a female friend to gossip with. What do you think?”
Gideon didn’t know what to say. He felt a shiver on his thighs and an itch on his scalp, a dryness in his mouth and a flight of butterflies in his gut. So this was what they meant when they said someone looked breathtaking. His mouth worked but nothing came out, and Trigger stepped in. “You look enchanting, Maria. How are you feeling after your travails?”
Gideon Smith and the Mechanical Girl Page 24