The Mechanical Messiah and Other Marvels of the Modern Age

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The Mechanical Messiah and Other Marvels of the Modern Age Page 38

by Robert Rankin


  It was the very embodiment of evil. Of all evil compressed into a single form. The stench of brimstone filled the air, an air now chilled to freezing and below.

  ‘You men,’ hissed the evil one. ‘You little men of this world. What are you to me? You are weak, you are nothing. Where is your God now?’

  ‘Tell me, tell me, who you really are.’ Cameron Bell was sweating, though his breath came steaming in the frigid air.

  ‘You.’ The Hellish creature swung around and pointed a dreadful claw at the Fifth Earl of Hove. The Fifth Earl’s knees were knocking together, his three French bulldogs cowering behind him. ‘You who have so much to say. You who would tell our secrets to this meddler. You tell him all that I am.’

  ‘Me, sir?’ asked the shivering earl.

  ‘You, sir, tell him.’ The voice rang loud in the auditorium. Echoing from the domed ceiling, returning from the rear of the stage.

  ‘Oh yes, sir, yes.’ The Fifth Earl grinned most painfully. ‘It is a biblical matter,’ said he. ‘A theological matter. It seems that when God created Heaven and Earth, he also created other inhabitable planets. He put life upon Mars and Venus and Jupiter, too. And each of these worlds was given an Adam and an Eve and placed in a Garden of Eden. God was sort of …’ The Fifth Earl’s teeth were chattering fearfully. ‘Sort of hedging his bets. He thought he would try out four sets of Adam and Eves and see how it all worked out. There were four serpents, too, one for each garden. You have read the Bible, you know what happened to our Adam and Eve, how they were tempted by the serpent, ate of the Tree of Knowledge and were cast out of the garden.

  ‘On Jupiter, however, the original Jovians did not eat from the Tree of Knowledge. They were too sated, having eaten nearly everything else in the garden. God threw them out for being so greedy, making such a mess of the place and not taking their roles as the father and mother of Jovian-kind seriously enough. But he did not visit his wrath upon them. God is rather fond of the Jupiterians.’

  The Beast spat something resembling blood.

  The Fifth Earl continued the tale. ‘On Mars, things went rather differently. The Martians were just born bad, it seems. They shunned God from the start and worshipped the serpent. God turned their planet the colour of blood as a punishment. Evil things flourished on Mars.’

  Cameron Bell recalled the evil thing he had shot in that bedroom now so long ago, which Colonel Katterfelto had identified as being a creature of Mars.

  ‘On Venus, though,’ continued the trembling earl, ‘things were again different. When the serpent tempted the Venusian Adam and Eve, they did not heed it. In fact, the next time it visited, they killed it. They literally destroyed the evil of their world. Venus, I am told, is one big Garden of Eden.’

  Cameron Bell gazed down at the monster, once more glaring up at him.

  ‘And you?’ he asked.

  ‘Tell him,’ roared the creature.

  ‘God was so pleased with the Venusian Adam and Eve that he watched over them. Much of what we read in our Bible actually occurred on Venus, you know.’

  Cameron Bell touched the Ring of Moses on his finger. He knew well enough.

  ‘But God kept tempting his chosen people. He kept testing them. But they resisted temptation. Into each generation a serpent, as of the original tempter, would be born. The Venusians would kill this creature—’

  ‘Creature?’ roared the creature.

  ‘This being that was not as they. And thus their world remained pure. The original magic of the Garden of Eden, the original magic given unto Moses, remained upon Venus. But in our time a Venusian mother gave birth to such a being, and she loved her baby and did not want it killed. She brought it here to Earth. This being stands before you now.’

  The being growled, which rattled the chandeliers.

  ‘Fascinating stuff,’ said Cameron Bell, struggling with extreme difficulty to draw out his very last iota of bravado.

  ‘I think I have all of that recorded. But I might have to change the wax cylinder.’

  ‘Will you please kill this man?’ Mark Rowland Ferris asked the terrible demon.

  ‘Oh, be assured.’ The being arose. Rose into the air. Its lion feet leaving the carpeted floor, its tiny back wings all a-flapping. Up that monster went.

  And face to face it glared at Cameron Bell.

  ‘You are a man of considerable ingenuity,’ hissed the evil one. ‘But I feel you have no more tricks to play.’

  ‘Look out behind you,’ suggested Cameron Bell and, pointing wildly, he continued, ‘Zulus, thousands of them.’

  And then the claw reached out and closed upon his throat and things went rather black for Cameron Bell.

  The sky above and round about was black. And it was cold too in that sky. The colonel fairly shook.

  He and Darwin had been carried aloft by the Mechanical Messiah. This now radiant being held the colonel under one arm and Darwin under the other and flew across the night-time London sky.

  Below them, the tall Tesla Towers sparkled with electrical energy, St Paul’s Cathedral swelled, gas-lit street lamps offered a crepuscular glow. In the distance many lights glistened upon The Spaceman’s Club, that marvellous airship tethered to London below.

  It was silent up in that sky and there was scarcely a breeze. The colonel craned his head towards Darwin and whispered to his friend. ‘There was nothing in the manual about flying,’ he whispered.

  ‘I think He made that up for Himself,’ whispered Darwin. ‘I would add that although I enjoy diddling about in the heights, as do any of my kind, this I find frankly alarming.’

  ‘Soon be there,’ said the Mechanical Messiah. ‘We will soon arrive at our destination, where I must battle the Beast.’

  ‘And You will win?’ Darwin asked. ‘As You do in the Book of Revelation?’

  The Mechanical Messiah did not reply to this.

  ‘Might I ask then where we are going?’ enquired Darwin.

  ‘To the Electric Alhambra, my little brother.’

  Colonel Katterfelto groaned. ‘Not fond of the place,’ he declared, ‘you’re either dodging fruit or going up in flames. Lost its charm for me, I’ll tell you that.’

  ‘The evil one awaits,’ said the man-made God. ‘And he must be cast down.’

  The evil one cast Cameron Bell down to the floor of the great auditorium. The private detective slumped in a painful heap. The creature dropped and stood astride its victim. Brimstone breath engulfed the fallen man.

  ‘I shall skin you alive,’ hissed the monster. ‘But first I would have the Ring of Moses.’

  The creature grabbed the hand of the semi-conscious Cameron, tore the ring from his finger. Placed it upon a claw-like digit, stepped back to admire the effect.

  And then howled.

  ‘No,’ cried the Beast, ‘it cannot be!’ As smoke and flames engulfed his scaly claw.

  Cameron Bell, his vision double, rose upon an elbow. ‘It does look awfully like the Ring of Moses, doesn’t it?’ he said. ‘I purchased it this afternoon. From a jeweller in Hatton Garden. Had it blessed against evil by the jeweller himself. A Cabbalist, you know.’

  The Beast was staggering to and fro, fire leaping around it.

  ‘You can never have too many tricks up your sleeve,’ said Mr Bell and he attempted to rise— ‘Oh my dear dead mother,’ he said. ‘I think my leg is broken.’

  ‘Get it off me! Get it off me!’ The monster leapt the orchestra pit and came down upon the stage before Mark Rowland Ferris. ‘Pull it from my hand. For I cannot.’

  Mark Rowland Ferris stared hard at the Beast. Certain thoughts now entered the Fifth Earl’s head.

  ‘You would defy me?’ The creature grasped the top of Earl Ferris’s head with its non-flaming claw. Drew it back and rammed the fiery finger down his throat. He pushed down hard to make the earl’s teeth grip. Then wrenched the finger from his mouth. Mark Rowland Ferris swallowed the ring and fainted dead away.

  The cowering doggies started to howl.

/>   The creature silenced them with a single stare.

  And then examined his claw. ‘That is better,’ it said. ‘And now I shall have the real Ring of Moses.’

  The creature turned its terrible gaze towards Cameron Bell.

  But the private detective was no longer where he had landed. He was crawling away as best he could up the central aisle to escape from the auditorium.

  ‘Oh no you do not.’ The Beast took flight. Soared with a single bound into the air. Came down between the damaged detective and the exit doors.

  It hauled Mr Bell from his feet and held him aloft with its untoasted claw. Then slashed at his clothes with the other. ‘Time to part you from your skin,’ said the Beast.

  Ripping away the shirt from the detective, it let out a cry of delight. About his neck on a silver chain there hung the Ring of Moses.

  ‘Mine,’ the evil monster said as its talons fixed upon the ring. ‘Mine now the ancient power it commands. Mine to wreak revenge upon the Men of Venus. To wield its magic upon the men of all planets. They will know fear and they will know pain and then they will all know death.’

  And with that said it tore the Ring of Moses from the neck of Cameron Bell and flung the detective once more to the floor.

  58

  nd lo, as it was predicted in the Book of Revelation, He came in glory from the clouds.

  The centre of the great frescoed dome collapsed and down through the painted clouds came the Mechanical Messiah, a colonel under one arm, a monkey under the other.

  To Cameron Bell, lying broken beneath, it was an entrance worthy of … well, a Messiah. The private detective shielded his face as lath and plaster and bits of the painted Queen Victoria descended upon him in dust and noise and quite a bit of hubbub generally.

  ‘And what is this!’ growled the Beastie, the Ring of Moses not yet on a second taloned claw.

  The Mechanical Messiah crashed down onto a row of seats, reducing most to splintered ruination. Darwin scuttled to safety. The colonel fell hard upon his behind.

  ‘Ouch,’ was his comment on that.

  The man of golden metal held His balance. The manmade God stared at His enemy.

  ‘No?’ The Beast cocked its head upon one side, twitched its dreadful nostrils. ‘I smell magic, powerful magic. But it cannot be, not yet.’

  The Mechanical Messiah spread wide His arms. ‘I am the Son of Man,’ said He, ‘and I have come to bind you for one thousand years.

  ‘I have read the Book,’ the creature bellowed, ‘and it is not Your time yet.’

  ‘Deceiver of nations,’ said the Son of Man. ‘Father of Lies. Serpent of old.’

  The creature paused and flexed its massive shoulders, shook its head from side to side, as might gentleman Jim Corbett, squaring up for a bare-knuckle fight, in a display of contempt for an unworthy opponent. The monster took the Ring of Moses in its right hand and sought to place it upon the claw of its left.

  Only to have it snatched away by Mr Cameron Bell.

  ‘Take it, Darwin, and run,’ cried the private detective, flinging it towards the monkey. It was a brave enough try but the ring fell short. The creature swept Mr Bell from his feet and plunged forward to retrieve its treasure.

  The Mechanical Messiah barred its way.

  ‘Stand aside, you!’ The creature swung a mighty fist, struck the metal chin, the sound rebounding about the auditorium like that of a great church bell.

  The Mechanical Messiah staggered backwards, regained His composure, stroked at His chin then charged at the evil creature.

  Cameron Bell ducked most nimbly aside for a man with a broken leg, as metal God and scaly Beast rolled over and over, shredding seats and wreaking mighty havoc.

  Darwin was scrabbling about in search of the ring, which something instinctive told him was very important.

  Colonel Katterfelto, up upon creaking knees, was reaching to his holster for his ray gun.

  ‘Find the ring, Darwin,’ he called to his friend. ‘I’ll take a pot-shot at the bastard.’

  The bastard was clearly possessed of a most remarkable strength.

  It leapt up and grabbed the Mechanical Messiah, lifted Him high above its head and flung Him with titanic force against a wall of the auditorium. The entire building seemed to shake at the impact. Sculpted figures tumbled, shattered on the floor. The metal God, though somewhat dented, threw Himself with force at His tormentor.

  Cameron dragged his injured self to Colonel Katterfelto. ‘Your ray gun is useless against the Beast,’ he said, ‘but without the ring it may still be vulnerable to your golden man. Good will triumph over evil, it is to be hoped.’

  Darwin cried, ‘I have it,’ and held the ring aloft.

  The creature turned its head at this.

  The Mechanical Messiah caught its chin with a right uppercut.

  ‘I will return to you,’ growled the Beast and it hefted the man-made God of metal high and flung Him into the orchestra pit.

  And then it advanced upon Darwin.

  ‘Up the wall and out of the dome and run my friend,’ called the colonel.

  Darwin popped the ring into his mouth and took to scaling a wall. He leapt from one carved figure to another, from elf to demigod, from griffin to gremlin, from a fairy named Socks to an angel named Moroni. To the very dome climbed Darwin, swinging from one hairy handhold to the next.

  ‘Hold hard!’ The cry was loud in the monkey’s ears although it came from below. Darwin glanced down and terror gripped at his little heart.

  The thing had Colonel Katterfelto and was holding him high by his ancient military jacket. The colonel, not a man to take such treatment lightly, discharged his ray gun into the monster’s face. The thing of horror fell back, its face a tangle of spiralling tendrils, whirling fibres of flesh. These swung and twisted, returned to order, the ghastly face reassembled. The Beast dashed the ray gun from the colonel’s hand. The old fellow punched it right in the eye.

  ‘Take that, you scoundrel,’ he shouted.

  ‘Down,’ cried the monster. ‘Down, monkey, or I wring the neck of your friend.’

  Darwin swung on a lofty perch. He looked down in fear to the colonel.

  ‘Don’t do it, my boy,’ called this man. ‘Escape with the ring, forget about me.’

  Darwin the monkey paused.

  ‘I shall break him,’ growled the Beastie. ‘Shall I snap off an arm to show you how it’s done?’

  Darwin the monkey didn’t know what to do.

  ‘Flee,’ cried Colonel Katterfelto.

  The Mechanical Messiah floundered in the orchestra pit. He had somehow become overly entangled with the clockwork orchestra.

  The creature made a vicious move and snapped the colonel’s arm.

  The old man did not cry out. But bit upon his bottom lip until the red blood flowed.

  ‘No,’ called Darwin from on high. ‘Do not hurt him further. He is my only friend.’

  ‘No,’ the colonel mumbled. ‘Flee.’ But the Beast put a clawed hand over his mouth and stifled the colonel’s words.

  Darwin climbed down hand over hand with tail brought into play.

  He approached the creature that was hurting his friend. He took the ring from between his teeth and held it out before him.

  ‘Give the Ring to me,’ growled the Beast, tightening its hand across the old soldier’s face. The colonel’s eyes were popping, but they moved from side to side to signal Darwin No!

  ‘Let him go,’ said Darwin, approaching with the ring. ‘Please,’ cried Cameron Bell. ‘You must run. Take the ring, throw it in the Thames. The Beast must not have it. It must not.’

  ‘But the colonel is my friend.’

  ‘It will not spare him,’ Cameron said.

  The Beast turned cold eyes upon the private detective. ‘Give me the ring,’ it said to the monkey, ‘and you will save your friend.’

  Darwin dithered, the ring in his outstretched hand.

  ‘Don’t do it,’ shouted Cameron Bell. ‘The ring i
s of Magoniam. It is the Ring of Moses, a sacred object of enormous power. The Beast must not have it.’

  Darwin glanced towards the detective, then towards his friend. The colonel’s face was purple and his eyes were bloodshot.

  ‘Take the ring,’ said Darwin. ‘Hurt no more my friend.’ The monster snatched the Ring of Moses, loosened its grip on the colonel and then gave the old man’s neck a twist.

  Breaking it with a snap.

  ‘No!’ cried Darwin, as the creature let the broken soldier sink to the carpeted floor.

  ‘Thank you,’ said the monster and it tossed the ring into the air and caught it once again.

  Darwin the monkey sprang to the fallen colonel. He cradled the head of his friend in his hands and howled and howled and howled.

  Colonel Katterfelto’s eyes flickered for a moment. A dying hand reached out to Darwin and tousled the monkey’s head.

  The colonel’s mouth moved and his last words came from it.

  ‘I love you, little brother,’ he said.

  And then the colonel died.

  59

  he Mechanical Messiah climbed from the orchestra pit. He viewed the broken body of the man who had brought Him life and his little brother weeping over it.

  ‘No!’ cried the man-made God of brass. ‘Thou foul and filthy fiend.’

  ‘It is all over for you now,’ said the monster and it slipped the Ring of Moses onto its finger.

  It was as if the air had turned to water and a mighty stone had been cast into it. Ripples, waves of power, spread from the terrible Beast. Cameron Bell, cowering beneath a row of seats, covered his head. Mark Rowland Ferris quivered in the foetal position up upon the stage. His dogs had their paws held over their heads, which can be cute with dogs.

  But not cute now!

  Darwin stroked at the colonel’s head. His tears fell on his dead friend’s face and dampened his moustache.

  The monster knotted the fist with the ring, held it up towards the fractured dome. ‘All will be mine,’ it hissed and growled. ‘Mine the triumph now.’

 

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