The Mechanical Messiah (58 page)

‘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.

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 is 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.

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.’

‘Not while life remains within Me,’ said the Mechanical Messiah.

‘Then allow me to take it from You.’ The monster threw itself upon the golden being. Struck Him a monstrous blow and then another and another. Held the dented figure by His elegant throat, tore open the little door in His chest, dragged out His
Magoniam
heart.

A perplexed expression flickered on the beautiful brazen face. The metal lips moved but no sound was heard. The head lolled and the shoulders sagged. The God of brass fell with a crash to the floor.

‘Mine,’ crowed the monster, admiring the ring. ‘Mine the power and the glory.’