rr.eastofealing-第39部分

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　Professor　Slobe　smiled　ruefully。　'I　thought　not。'
　Omally　opened　his　mouth　to　speak；　but　thought　better　of　it。　If　the　old　man　did　not　care　to　accept　the　truth；　then　there　was　no　good　to　be　gained　through　labouring　the　point。　'All　right；'　said　he　carefully；　'we　did　not　actually　see　it。'
　'No；'　said　the　Professor。　'You　did　not。　So　let　us　speak　no　more　of　the　matter。　There　is　little　time　left　and　much　which　must　be　done。'
　'We　are　actually　somewhat　knackered；'　said　Jim；　sinking　into　a　chair。　'We've　had　a　trying　day。'
　'I　am　afraid　that　it　is　not　over　yet。　Kindly　follow　me。'
　The　Professor　strode　across　the　room　and　made　towards　the　study　door。　Jim　shrugged　towards　John；　who　put　his　finger　to　his　lips　and　shook　his　head。　'e　on；'　he　said。　'We've　nothing　left　to　lose　have　we？'　Omally　followed　the　old　man　into　the　corridor。
　Jim；　left　alone　for　a　moment；　suddenly　smiled。　He　drew　from　his　trouser　pocket　the　ormulu…trimmed　Boda　hip…flask　he　had　recently　purchased　and　not　yet　had　the　opportunity　to　use；　and　hastily　filled　it　from　the　old　man's　decanter。　'No　point　in　going　unarmed；'　said　he；　following　up　the　rear。
　The　Professor　led　them　up　several　flights　of　steps　to　the　room　which　housed　the　camera　obscura。　When　Jim　had　closed　the　door　and　plunged　them　into　darkness；　he　winched　the　apparatus　into　action　and　brought　the　image　of　the　surrounding　area　into　focus　upon　the　polished　marble　table…top。　The　sight　which　leapt　into　vision　was　such　as　to　take　the　breath　from　their　lungs。　Omally　crossed　himself　and　took　an　involuntary　step　backwards。
　The　evil　travesty　which　was　the　Festival　procession　now　filled　every　road　and　side…street　in　view。　And　the　tableaux　wrought　upon　them　were　now　being　recognizable　for　the　horrors　they　were。　It　was　as　if　those　earlier　floats　they　had　seen　were　but　the　blurred　and　ill…formed　shapes　of　clay；　awaiting　the　hand　of　the　master　craftsman　to　draw　form　from　them。　Now　the　lines　were　distinct；　the　contours　clearly　defined。
　'Look　there。'　Jim　pointed　to　a　lighted　float　which　passed　close　to　the　Seaman's　Mission；　a　stone's　throw　from　the　Professor's　door。　Depicted　there　was　the　form　of　a　giant；　clad　in　robes　of　crimson　and　seated　upon　a　great　throne；　carved　with　the　gilded　heads　of　bulls。　Golden　banners；　each　emblazoned　with　similar　motifs；　fluttered　above　and　five　hooded；　stunted　figures　cowered　at　his　feet　in　attitudes　of　supplication。　The　crimson　giant　raised　and　lowered　his　hand　in　mechanical　benediction；　and　it　appeared　that　for　a　moment　he　raised　his　eyes；　twin　blood　bowls　of　fire；　towards　the　men　in　the　rooftop　bower；　and　stared　into　their　very　souls。
　'Him；'　said　Omally。
　'And　there。'　Jim　pointed　vigorously。　'Look　at　that；　look　at　that。'
　As　the　throned　float　moved　beyond　the　range　of　vision；　another　rose　up　behind　it。　Here；　a　legion　of　men　climbed　one　upon　another；　pointing　towards　the　sky。　They　were　identical　in　appearance；　each　resembling　to　a　tee　the　young　Jack　Palance：　the　Cereans。
　To　either　side　of　the　floats　marched　a　legion　of　men；　women；　and　children。　Familiar　faces；　now　alien　and　unknown；　their　faces　wore　determined　expressions　and　each　marched　in　step；　raising　his　or　her　own　banner。　Each　illuminated　with　eighteen　vertical　lines；　placed　in　three　rows　of　six。　The　number　of　the　beast；　for　it　is　the　number　of　a　man。　Professor　Slobe　pointed　towards　the　image。　Away　in　the　distance；　far　greater　shapes　were　looming　into　view；　things　so　dark　and　loathsome；　that　even　there；　upon　the　flat　white　marble　surface；　their　ghost　images　exuded　a　sense　of　eldritch　horror　which　stunned　the　senses。
　'Switch　it　off；'　Omally　demanded。　'There　is　too　much　madness　here。'
　'One　more　small　thing　you　must　see；　John。'　Professor　Slobe　adjusted　the　apparatus　and　the　image　of　the　Lateinos　and　Romiith　building　drew　a　black　shroud　across　the　table…top。　The　old　man　cranked　the　mechanism　and　enlarged　an　area　at　the　base　of　the　building。　'Now　look　carefully；　did　you　see　that？'
　His　guests　blinked　and　squinted　at　the　image。　'I　saw　something；'　said　Jim；　'but　what？'
　'Look　harder。'
　'Yes；　I　see　it。'　It　was　but　a　fleeting　movement；　a　single　figure　detached　himself　from　the　throng；　pressed　his　hand　to　a　section　of　the　wall　and　was　instantly　swallowed　up　into　the　building　to　vanish　without　trace。
　'I　was　at　a　loss　to　find　a　means　of　gaining　entry；'　the　Professor　explained；　'but　Holmes　reasoned　the　thing　through　and　deduced　their　method。'
　'If　it's　a　lock　then　I　shall　pick　it。'
　'Not　on　this　occasion；　John。　But　one　of　us　here　has　the　key　in　his　hand　even　now。'
　'Oh　no；'　said　Jim；　thrusting　his　tattooed　hand　into　his　pocket。　'Not　this　boy；　not　in　there。'
　'You　have　the　right　of　admission；　Jim；　right　there　in　the　palm　of　your　hand。'
　'No；　no；　no。'　Pooley　shook　his　head　vigorously；　'An　eight　a。m。　appointment　with　Albert　Pierrepoint　I　should　much　prefer。'
　'In　my　mind；　only　one　course　of　action　lies　open。　Unless　we　can　penetrate　the　building　and　apply　the　proverbial　spanner　to　the　puter's　works；　all　will　be　irretrievably　lost。　We　cannot　think　to　destroy　the　dark　God　himself。　But　if　his　temple　is　cast　down　and　his　worshippers　annihilated；　then　he　must　withdraw　once　more；　into　the　place　of　forever　night　from　whence　he　has　emerged。'　Professor　Slobe　re…cranked　the　mechanism　and　the　room　fell　into　darkness。
　'Oh　doom；'　said　Jim　Pooley。　'Oh　doom　and　desolaoooow！　Let　go　there；　John。'
　'We　must　make　our　move　now。'　Professor　Slobe's　voice　echoed　in　the　void。　'There　is　no　more　time；　e　at　once。'　He　opened　the　door　and　the　wan　light　from　the　stairs　entered　the　strange　roof　chamber。
　'But　we　cannot　go　outside；'　said　Omally。　'One　step　out　of　this　house　and　good　night。'
　'Have　no　fear；　I　have　taken　the　matter　into　consideration。'　Professor　Slobe　led　the　two　lost　souls　back　to　his　study。　'You　are　not　going　to　like　this；　John；'　said　he；　as　he　opened　the　desk　drawer。
　'That　should　create　no　immediate　problem。　I　have　liked　nothing　thus　far。'
　'So　be　it。'　Professor　Slobe　drew　out　a　number　of　items；　which　had　very　much　the　appearance　of　being　metallic　balaclava　helmets；　and　laid　them　on　the　table。
　'Superman　outfits；'　said　Pooley；　very　impressed。　'I　should　have　realized；　Professor；　you　are　one　of　the　Justice　League　of　America。'
　'Silence；　Pooley。'
　'Sorry；　John。'
　'As　ludicrous　as　these　items　at　first　must　appear；　they　may　well　be　our　salvation。　As　you　are　no　doubt　now　aware；　the　Lateinos　and　Romiith　puter　scan　cannot　penetrate　lead。　Hopefully；　these　lead…foil　helmets　will　shield　our　brain　patterns　from　the　machine's　detection　and　allow　us　to　move　about　unmolested。'
　'Size　seven　and　a　half；'　said　Jim。　'But　I　can　fit　into　a　seven　at　a　push。'
　'Good　man。　As　an　extra　precaution；　if　each　of　you　could　slip　another　piece　of　foil　into　your　breast　pocket　then　your　heartbeat　should　be　similarly　concealed。　No　doubt　the　infra…red　image　produced　by　body　heat　will　still　register；　but　the　result　should　be　somewhat　confused。　〃Will　not　pute〃；　I　believe　the　expression　to　be。'
　'Bravo。'　Omally　slipped　on　his　helmet　without　hesitation。
　'Very　Richard　the　Lionheart；'　chuckled　Pooley。
　'A　fine　man；'　said　Professor　Slobe。　'I　knew　him　well。'
　The　three　men；　now　decked　out　in　their　ludicrous　headgear；　slipped　through　the　Professor's　French　windows　and　out　into　the　garden。　At　times　one　has　to　swallow　quite　a　lot　for　a　quiet　life　in　Brentford。
　Above　the　wall　the　titanic　floats　filled　the　street。　As　one　by　one　the　balaclava'd　goodguys　eased　their　way　into　the　swaying　crowd；　each　held　his　breath　and　did　a　fair　bit　of　praying。　Professor　Slobe　plucked　at　Omally's　sleeve。　'Follow　me。'　The　marching　horde　plodded　onward。　The　floats　dwarfed　both　street　and　sky。　Jim　peered　about　him；　he　was　walking　in　a　dream。　The　men　and　women　to　either　side　of　him；　each　wearing　their　pair　of　minuscule　headphones；　were　unreal。　And　that　he　knew　to　be　true　in　every　sense　of　the　word。　At　close　hand；　the　floats　appeared　shabby　and　ill…constructed；　a　mish…mash　of　texture　and　hue　ing　together　as　if；　and　no　doubt　it　was　exactly　thus；　programmed　to　create　an　overall　effect。　No　hand　of　man　had　been　at　work　here。　Like　all　else　it　was　a　sick　parody；　a　sham；　and　nothing　more。　The　bolted　wheel　near　at　hand　turned　in　faulty　circles　grinding　the　tarmac；