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d　see　the　intertwined　people　that　made　up　the　body：　the　backs　like　turtles　packed　together　to　offer　the　sweep　of　the　pectorals；　the　lashed　and　knotted　acrobats　at　the　joints　of　the　arms　and　the　legs　alike；　rolling　and　unwinding　to　articulate　the　city。
　　But　surely　the　most　amazing　sight　of　all　was　the　face。
　　Cheeks　of　bodies；　cavernous　eye…sockets　in　which　heads　stared；　five　bound　together　for　each　eyeball；　a　broad；　flat　nose　and　a　mouth　that　opened　and　closed；　as　the　muscles　of　the　jaw　bunched　and　hollowed　rhythmically。　And　from　that　mouth；　lined　with　teeth　of　bald　children；　the　voice　of　the　giant；　now　only　a　weak　copy　of　its　former　powers；　spoke　a　single　note　of　idiot　music。
　　Popolac　walked　and　Popolac　sang。
　　Was　there　ever　a　sight　in　Europe　the　equal　of　it？
　　They　watched；　Mick　and　Judd；　as　it　took　another　step　towards　them。
　　The　old　man　had　wet　his　pants。　Blubbering　and　begging；　he　dragged　himself　away　from　the　ruined　cottage　into　the　surrounding　trees；　dragging　his　dead　legs　after　him。
　　The　Englishmen　remained　where　they　stood；　watching　the　spectacle　as　it　approached。　Neither　dread　nor　horror　touched　them　now；　just　an　awe　that　rooted　them　to　the　spot。　They　knew　this　was　a　sight　they　could　never　hope　to　see　again；　this　was　the　apex…after　this　there　was　only　mon　experience。　Better　to　stay　then；　though　every　step　brought　death　nearer；　better　to　stay　and　see　the　sight　while　it　was　still　there　to　be　seen。　And　if　it　killed　them；　this　monster；　then　at　least　they　would　have　glimpsed　a　miracle；　known　this　terrible　majesty　for　a　brief　moment。　It　seemed　a　fair　exchange。
　　Popolac　was　within　two　steps　of　the　cottage。　They　could　see　the　plexities　of　its　structure　quite　clearly。　The　faces　of　the　citizens　were　being　detailed：　white；　sweat…wet；　and　content　in　their　weariness。　Some　hung　dead　from　their　harnesses；　their　legs　swinging　back　and　forth　like　the　hanged。　Others；　children　particularly；　had　ceased　to　obey　their　training；　and　had　relaxed　their　positions；　so　that　the　form　of　the　body　was　degenerating；　beginning　to　seethe　with　the　boils　of　rebellious　cells。
　　Yet　it　still　walked；　each　step　an　incalculable　effort　of　coordination　and　strength。
　　Boom…The　step　that　trod　the　cottage　came　sooner　than　they　thought。
　　Mick　saw　the　leg　raised；　saw　the　faces　of　the　people　in　the　shin　and　ankle　and　foot…they　were　as　big　as　he　was　now…all　huge　men　chosen　to　take　the　full　weight　of　this　great　creation。
　　Many　were　dead。　The　bottom　of　the　foot；　he　could　see；　was　a　jigsaw　of　crushed　and　bloody　bodies；　pressed　to　death　under　the　weight　of　their　fellow　citizens。
　　The　foot　descended　with　a　roar。
　　In　a　matter　of　seconds　the　cottage　was　reduced　to　splinters　and　dust。
　　Popolac　blotted　the　sky　utterly。　It　was；　for　a　moment；　the　whole　world；　heaven　and　earth；　its　presence　filled　the　senses　to　overflowing。　At　this　proximity　one　look　could　not　enpass　it；　the　eye　had　to　range　backwards　and　forwards　over　its　mass　to　take　it　all　in；　and　even　then　the　mind　refused　to　accept　the　whole　truth。
　　A　whirling　fragment　of　stone；　flung　off　from　the　cottage　as　it　collapsed；　struck　Judd　full　in　the　face。　In　his　head　he　heard　the　killing　stroke　like　a　ball　hitting　a　wall：　a　play…yard　death。　No　pain：　no　remorse。　Out　like　a　light；　a　tiny；　insignificant　light；　his　death…cry　lost　in　the　pandemonium；　his　body　hidden　in　the　smoke　and　darkness。　Mick　neither　saw　nor　heard　Judd　die。
　　He　was　too　busy　staring　at　the　foot　as　it　settled　for　a　moment　in　the　ruins　of　the　cottage；　while　the　other　leg　mustered　the　will　to　move。
　　Mick　took　his　chance。　Howling　like　a　banshee；　he　ran　towards　the　leg；　longing　to　embrace　the　monster。　He　stumbled　in　the　wreckage；　and　stood　again；　bloodied；　to　reach　for　the　foot　before　it　was　lifted　and　he　was　left　behind。　There　was　a　clamour　of　agonized　breath　as　the　message　came　to　the　foot　that　it　must　move；　Mick　saw　the　muscles　of　the　shin　bunch　and　marry　as　the　leg　began　to　lift。　He　made　one　last　lunge　at　the　limb　as　it　began　to　leave　the　ground；　snatching　a　harness　or　a　rope；　or　human　hair；　or　flesh　itself…anything　to　catch　this　passing　miracle　and　be　part　of　it。　Better　to　go　with　it　wherever　it　was　going；　serve　it　in　its　purpose；　whatever　that　might　be；　better　to　die　with　it　than　live　without　it。
　　He　caught　the　foot；　and　found　a　safe　purchase　on　its　ankle。　Screaming　his　sheer　ecstasy　at　his　success　he　felt　the　great　leg　raised；　and　glanced　down　through　the　swirling　dust　to　the　spot　where　he　had　stood；　already　receding　as　the　limb　climbed。
　　The　earth　was　gone　from　beneath　him。　He　was　a　hitchhiker　with　a　god：　the　mere　life　he　had　left　was　nothing　to　him　now；　or　ever。　He　would　live　with　this　thing；　yes；　he　would　live　with　it…seeing　it　and　seeing　it　and　eating　it　with　his　eyes　until　he　died　of　sheer　gluttony。
　　He　screamed　and　howled　and　swung　on　the　ropes；　drinking　up　his　triumph。　Below；　far　below；　he　glimpsed　Judd's　body；　curled　up　pale　on　the　dark　ground；　irretrievable。　Love　and　life　and　sanity　were　gone；　gone　like　the　memory　of　his　name；　or　his　sex；　or　his　ambition。
　　It　all　meant　nothing。　Nothing　at　all。
　　Boom…Boom…Popolac　walked；　the　noise　of　its　steps　receding　to　the　east。　Popolac　walked；　the　hum　of　its　voice　lost　in　the　night。
　　After　a　day；　birds　came；　foxes　came；　flies；　butterflies；　wasps　came。　Judd　moved；　Judd　shifted；　Judd　gave　birth。　In　his　belly　maggots　warmed　themselves；　in　a　vixen's　den　the　good　flesh　of　his　thigh　was　fought　over。　After　that；　it　was　quick。　The　bones　yellowing；　the　bones　crumbling：　soon；　an　empty　space　which　he　had　once　filled　with　breath　and　opinions。
　　Darkness；　light；　darkness；　light。　He　interrupted　neither　with　his　name。







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