At the top of the stairs he stopped to get his bearings. He was starting to get more than a little unnerved by how deserted the Convent was, wondering that maybe Miss Ella wasn’t in residence. He looked around and decided that the most promising direction in which to search was down the corridor to his left, the one which ran in the direction of the ruckus Odette was kicking up.
Edging along, he peeked into each dark room in turn, until he came to one which, from what he could make out in the gloom, seemed to be a library of some description. Maybe here, he thought, he might find a clue to Miss Ella’s whereabouts. He looked around to check that Rivets was still behind him, and was aghast to see that the boy was now laden with various objets d’art he’d collected en route.
‘Wot the fuck are you at?’ he snarled, sotto voce.
‘Pinchin’,’ said Rivets airily. ‘Sum ov these movables is the business, Burlesque. I always fancied meself as a clanker-napper. Worth a small fortune wiv Jack the nuJu, these is. Specially this urn.’ He thrust his chin towards a blue and white porcelain pot balanced precariously atop all of the other swag he had clasped in his arms.
With a despairing shake of his head, Burlesque turned up the gas lamp fixed on the wall of the library, and began a search. But look as he would, he could find nothing amongst the papers strewn so casually across the desk set in the middle of the room that gave any hint of where Ella Thomas might be. He was just about to give up and move his search to the upstairs rooms when he heard the merest of sounds from the doorway. Turning around, what he saw standing silhouetted at the entrance to the room chilled him to his core.
26
Galerie des Anciens: Venice
The Demi-Monde: 27th Day of Spring, 1005
Marring the Deterministic perfection of the Demi-Monde are two InDeterminate wild cards. The first is the periodic appearance of Dark Charismatics within the population of the Demi-Monde, but even here Kondratieff speculates that their manifestation is not entirely random. Although there is a paucity of Auralist evidence identifying exo-Chaudian Dark Charismatics, he is of the firm belief that each Sector has an ABBA-ordained quota of four such baleful individuals. This supposition, though unsubstantiated empirically, has enabled Kondratieff to compensate for the activities of Dark Charismatics in his 4Tellings.
Dark Charismatics: The Invisible Enemy:
Professeur Michel de Nostredame,
University of Venice Publications
As the Doge and her party were ushered into the high-ceilinged presentation room, Nikolai Kondratieff saw that Molyneau – in anticipation of the Doge’s visit – had been busy. A special reserved seat was standing to the very front of the chamber’s tiered seating and Kondratieff had to smile when he saw the Doge insisting that another chair be brought in order that the Lady IMmanual could be seated next to her. That she had taken to the girl was very good news. Now all that remained was to give the Doge enough evidence to convince her that the Lady IMmanual was the Messiah. Only in that way could the real Messiah be protected.
It was a shame that the Doge had to be sacrificed on the altar of Temporal Intervention. Kondratieff admired the woman and was sad to be party to her demise, but really he had no alternative. Temporal Interventions were such delicate things that secrecy was vital to their success: the more people who were aware that attempts were being made to massage Future History, the greater the chance that one of them would be provoked into an action that would alter the desired Temporal OutCome. The Doge couldn’t be warned of the threat posed by the Lady IMmanual because her death was necessary to secure the triumph of the Messiah.
Like a moth drawn to a flame, Kondratieff seated himself directly behind the Lady, so close that if he reached out his hand he could touch her – could touch a myth made SAE. It was a remarkable feeling. All those long hours he and de Nostredame had spent puzzling over the Future History of the Demi-Monde had led to this moment, when religious fancy became preScientific fact. And as he gazed at the girl, he decided that she didn’t disappoint: she was very tall and very beautiful. Even with her shaven head and her face hidden behind a cowl of silver, Kondratieff could see that here was a woman born to steal men’s hearts … and, of course, their souls.
A Goddess, indeed. A Goddess whose ambitions Kondratieff had dedicated his life to thwarting.
Once the Doge had settled in her seat, a hush fell as each member of the audience took a moment to study the large object shrouded under a dust sheet, standing just to the side of a lectern at the very front of the room. This, they realised, was the mysterious artefact they had come to see, and which was responsible for the almost palpable undercurrent of eager anticipation in the room.
De Nostredame, looking his usual dishevelled self, ambled across the floor to take his position behind the lectern. ‘Good afternoon, Your Most Reverend Excellency, my lords, ladies and gentlemen. I am Michel de Nostredame, Professeur of pre-Confinement History at the University of metaPhysical Research here in Venice.’
Kondratieff could see de Nostredame’s hands were trembling and he had, of course, every reason to be nervous. His was a daunting task, to fool the Doge, one of the sharpest minds in the Demi-Monde, and to persuade her that the message the Column contained said one thing, when in reality it said quite another. But only by doing this could they protect the Messiah.
As he always did when he was anxious, de Nostredame sucked on his pipe, billowing clouds of thick smoke towards the ceiling of the hall. He seemed too terrified to begin and it took a loud cough from Kondratieff to persuade him to stop procrastinating and get on with the presentation.
‘The artefact we are to discuss this afternoon was discovered at the bottom of the Venetian Lagoon, at a point some ninety metres from the southern boundary of the city of Venice. Prior to its discovery and retrieval, the piece had been lying undisturbed, submerged in the Lagoon since time immemorial.’
He gazed up at the ceiling of the auditorium for a few moments, seemingly searching for inspiration. ‘As you will all know, Mantle-ite, from which this artefact is hewn, is the hardest substance known to HumanKind, a substance that only the Pre-Folk knew how to work. Mantle-ite is invulnerable to attack by steel, by fire or by nanoBites, and it is this unyielding nature which has resulted in the artefact’s immaculate state of preservation.’ He leant forward and tugged hopefully on a cord hanging from the dust sheet. The sheet fell away. ‘I give you Loci’s Column.’
The piece didn’t disappoint: it was magnificent. Standing on a hexagonal base – a base masked by a second dust sheet – the six-metre-high Column was simply breathtaking, the flawless Mantle-ite it had been constructed from glowing an eerie green under the room’s lamplight. And Kondratieff’s excitement was echoed by the rest of the audience: as soon as the Column was unveiled, there was a collective intake of breath and a shuffling forward in seats.
Kondratieff stole a glance at the Lady IMmanual, and he was amazed to see a tear meandering slowly down her cheek. Then he heard her mouth the words ‘Exegi monumentum aere perennius.’
He had suspected she would know the ancient languages of the Demi-Monde, and thus be familiar with the sayings of the Ancients – the poet Horace in this case – and now he had his proof. Automatically he translated what she had said: I have erected a monument more lasting than bronze.
He didn’t have time to consider this remarkable occurrence further. When the hum of conversation had subsided, Professeur de Nostredame continued his presentation. ‘As you will see,’ and here a white-coated assistant rotated the Column on its plinth, ‘five of the Column’s faces have been inscribed with the lines of a poem – the Eddic of Loci – written in Pre-Folk A, the most ancient of all runic scripts. It is a script which, before the discovery of this Column, had defied all attempts to unBabelise it.’
There was another buzz of excited conversation. By suggesting that he had finally unlocked the secrets of the ohso-enigmatic Pre-Folk A, de Nostredame threatened to set the preHistory cat amongst the academic pig
eons: the translation of Pre-Folk A was the pot of gold at the end of the preHistory rainbow.
‘How can you make zuch a claim, de Nostredame?’ challenged the Doge. ‘I understand zhat mitout a key, Pre-Folk A iz untranzlatable.’
In answer de Nostredame pulled a second cord, which caused the dust sheet covering the Column’s hexagonal base to fall away. ‘We have a key, Your Excellency. Whoever carved this Column possessed the 4Sight to send us a means of deciphering the Eddic. Etched into the base is an Old French translation of the Pre-Folk A verses shown on the main body of the Column. By studying these inscriptions, it has become possible to translate the previously untranslatable Pre-Folk A.’
Kondratieff couldn’t contain himself: he burst into applause, this taken up enthusiastically by the rest of the audience. As announcements went, it was world-shattering. At a stroke, the riddles etched on such Mantle-ite monuments as the Great Wall, the Sphinx and ExterSteine were made readable.
After bowing his appreciation, de Nostredame waved the room into silence. ‘Thank you … you are most generous. And now my colleague Dr Nikolai Kondratieff will pass to each of you a translation of the five cantos of the Eddic written on the Column.’
When Kondratieff had distributed the papers, the room went deathly silent as the attendees made an urgent study of the translation they had been handed. Finally, de Nostredame judged that they’d had enough time to assimilate the poem and he recommenced his talk.
‘I will admit that in a number of areas there is ambiguity with regard to the translation. These I will point out during my summary of the Eddic. We are told that the poem was composed by Loci – spelt in the unusual way shown in the translation – the Trickster god of mythology. In sum, the Eddic tells of the awakening of Loci and his lust for vengeance on those who had held him captive; of the fall of the Vanir – the Pre-Folk – through the machinations of Lilith; of the portents that herald the approach of Ragnarok; and, lastly, of the coming of the Messiah who will vie with the Beast in the final titanic struggle that is Ragnarok.’ De Nostredame took another, comforting, puff on his pipe. ‘I will refrain from making a detailed analysis of the various cantos, simply pointing out a number of features I feel are of the greatest political and religious import. To begin, let us refer to Face Two of the Column …’
De Nostredame waited while the Column was rotated. ‘The canto carried on this face is entitled “The Vanir Remembered” and here the principal point of interest is the reference to VanaHeimr, the mythical home of the Vanir – the Pre-Folk – and of Lilith. The Eddic reads:
Look inwards
to lost VanaHeimr.
Look to the unending river
for forgotten VanaHeimr.
There lived
the Vanir
The Elvish godlings
who sweetly ruled
The Demi-Monde.
I will admit to some uncertainty here as the Eddic persistently refers to the vanir as “Fragiles”. However, in my translation I have preferred the more widely accepted nomenclature, “Vanir”. I should also note, en passant, that I had to resist a temptation to substitute the more common appellation “Atlantis” for VanaHeimr but, as the name Atlantis is now replete with a certain romantic hysteria, I have opted for a phonetic rendition of the Old French. I hope you will agree with me when I stress the importance of this canto, since it is the first time in the canon of Pre-Folk history that reference is made to the actual location of VanaHeimr. Until this moment, the generally accepted contention was that the land which served as the inspiration for VanaHeimr was lost to us somewhere in the Great Beyond. Now I would suggest, on the basis that we are implored to “look inwards” towards the “unending river”, that this fabled land is in all probability located in our own Terror Incognita, which is, of course, surrounded by the circular and therefore unending Wheel River.’
‘Zhere is no such place as either VanaHeimr or Atlantis,’ said the Doge in a bored voice. ‘Zhe reference made to Atlantis by zhe great Quartier Chaudian mage Plato in his Critias vos zimply a test for his students, zerving to illustrate zhat an idealised ImPuritan Republic shouldn’t just be regarded as a thing of fancy or of intellectual speculation, but could unt should be made real. Zhe idea behind zhis imaginary land of Atlantis has been distorted, however, to zuch an extent zhat it has come to be zeen as real.’
‘So you are familiar with the works of Plato, Your Excellency?’
The question from the Lady IMmanual was so unexpected that Kondratieff almost jumped in surprise.
The Doge gave a most condescending smile. ‘Of course, younk lady.’
‘You will remember, perhaps, that Plato, in his description of Atlantis, made reference to a pillar constructed from the legendary material orichalcum, upon which the laws of that city were carved.’
The Doge chuckled. ‘You are not proposing zhat zhe Column ve have standing before us is proof of zhe existence of zhat mythical place?’
‘I merely think we should keep an open mind on the subject.’
The Lady certainly was a feisty little piece, decided Kondratieff, but then that was only to be expected.
Not used to being corrected, the Doge gave a disapproving sniff and waved at de Nostredame to continue.
‘Perhaps I should point out a number of other notable aspects of the Eddic in the hope that they will not be quite so contentious. If we turn to Face Five of the Column …’
Kondratieff steeled himself: this was when things could get really tricky.
‘… we see described the coming of the Messiah and the final struggle between the Messiah and the Beast. This canto contains, perhaps, the most intriguing stanza of the whole poem, in that it describes how we will recognise the Messiah. It reads:
Know the Messiah
as the One who is Two.
Know the Messiah
by the One with no Shadow.
Know the Messiah
by the Living Blood.
Know the Messiah
by the Time of Miracles portended.’
De Nostredame took another puff on his pipe. ‘Suffice it to say that this is the first time in Pre-Folk lore that the Messiah has been described so specifically, and as such it is worthy of much further analysis and interpretation than can be attempted this afternoon. The single point I would make is regarding the translation of the term “Living Blood”. This might be better rendered from the Old French as “Daemon”, which in turn helps us better understand the statement that the Messiah will be “the One who is Two”. The Messiah will be both Daemon and Human … god and mortal.’
As a piece of misdirection it was masterfully done. By not discussing the lines in any meaningful way, de Nostredame had allowed the audience and, most importantly, the Doge to come to their own conclusions … their own erroneous conclusions. The way the Doge was smiling at the Lady indicated to Kondratieff that she had already made up her mind about just who these lines referred to.
‘It vould zeem, younk lady, zhat you fulfil all zhese somevhat obscure predictions. You are a Daemon, unt hence have “Living Blood”. And if zhe reports regarding your activities in Varsaw are to be believed, your coming most certainly portended a “Time of Miracles”. Most interesting. But vot of zhe phrase “zhe Vun mit no Shadow”? Vot is your interpretation ov zhat, de Nostredame?’
‘This remains an enigma, Your Excellency,’ de Nostredame lied.
‘Ah ha! Zo even zhe great de Nostredame must admit ignorance. But I can be of azziztance here. Zizter Florence has zeen a former associate of zhe Lady IMmanual’ – here the Doge gave the Lady a smile – ‘unt has declared him to be bereft of an aura. Zo you zee, de Nostredame, zhe 4Tellings shown on zhe Column are played out to perfection.’
De Nostredame bowed. ‘I am grateful to Your Excellency for her elucidation.’
‘But if we are zaying, de Nostredame, zhat zhe Messiah valks amongst us, zhen zo too must zhe Beast. Unt as zhe Column states zhat zhe Beast vill come “from zhe North” zhen ve must pres
ume zhis to allude to zhat swine Heydrich.’
‘That is a very telling insight, Your Excellency,’ observed de Nostredame.
Telling, but wrong, Kondratieff added silently.
‘Jah, zhe Beast is abroad unt now Ragnarok begins. Unt presumably zhe unzeazonally cold veather ve are enjoying corresponds to zhe “barren Spring” mentioned in zhe Eddic to be zhe time vhen Ragnarok – “zhe Time of Screams” – vill be upon us. Zo zhe chronology is perfect.’
De Nostredame gave an encouraging nod. ‘Perhaps now is the moment to move on to the last, and probably the most fascinating, of the six faces.’
The sight of the final face of the Column brought gasps from the audience. Here the lines of runic poetry had been replaced by a series of pictograms, the most striking of which was an image of a naked woman standing astride two lions, clutching a snake in each of her outstretched hands. But that wasn’t the only idiosyncrasy: the strange geometric pattern of shapes at the bottom of the Column was equally intriguing.
De Nostredame raised an arm and pointed to the naked woman. ‘Here we see carved a representation of what I believe to be the Messiah …’
‘Zo, the Column shows zhat zhe Messiah vill be female?’
‘Certainly.’
The Doge was silent for a moment, lost in thought. Then finally she gave a satisfied nod and spoke. ‘Jah, you are correct, de Nostredame. It is obvious to me zhat zhis Column celebrates a time vhen zhe female vill be in zhe ascendant. Zhe very shape ov zhe Column – zhe V-shape – imitates zhe shape ov zhe female sexual organs. Jah, zhe Column shows irrefutably zhat zhe Messiah vill be a voman.’
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