The Age of Ra (19 page)

''Eighteen,'' said David. It seemed like a lot, and yet not nearly enough for what Steven apparently had in mind.

''We've some armoured personnel carriers as well, and a couple of half-tracks which are pretty much antiques but still going strong. I think they date back to the Belgian Congo campaign. Mid-1950s at any rate, but they built things to last in those days.''

''All embedded around the town.''

''Correct. Along with a good twenty or so weapons dumps, each as big as Kareem and Fatima's, some of them bigger. The fruits of three years of diligent stockpiling. As you've seen we've got some
ba
tech but most of the guns are conventional. Imported from South America, where else? The South Americans love their bullets and cordite, don't they? Have to, I suppose, given how thrifty with their
ba
the children of Horus are. Minor gods, less divine essence to spare - stands to reason. If the gods won't provide, there's always human ingenuity to fall back on, and Brazilian and Peruvian gunsmithery is second to none.''

''So this whole town...''

''... is one big arms cache, yes,'' said Steven. ''Our own quartermaster's stores, based in a tiny little flyspeck in the middle of nowhere. The last place anyone would think to look, if they were looking.''

''I'm impressed.''

''Thought you might be.''

''But...''

''But what?'' Steven said sharply, a flint-spark of irritation in his voice. ''What's the problem, Dave?''

''No problem.''

''You've got some criticism, though. I know it. I can tell. Something's niggling. Out with it.''

''It's just...'' David groped for the right words. ''You've plenty of materiel here to fight a localised war. But from what I've gathered, your plans are more ambitious than that.''

''You're saying I'm underprepared.''

''Not exactly, no. Well, sort of. I think maybe you've underestimated just how much weaponry you're going to need - by quite a large margin. You're taking on the whole world, Steven, that's what it comes down to. And however much you've got in the way of resources, it's just not going to be adequate.''

''Oh, Dave. Dave, Dave, Dave. This is bloody typical of you, isn't it?'' The irritation had flared into a flame of anger. ''Typical patronising older brother. To you I'm still little Steven, still Westwynter Minor who could never do anything right and was never as smart or as sporty or generally as
good
as you. You assume I haven't thought this through properly because that's how the old Steven was, the Steven you once knew. He never thought things through. He just did whatever came into his head and hang the consequences.''

''That wasn't what I-''

''Well, newsflash,'' Steven said, steamrollering on. ''I'm not him any more. It's been five years, and I've seen and done a lot during that time. A lot's happened to me. I'm not the same creature I used to be. And I resent you treating me like that, like nothing's changed and you still know best.''

''But I-''

Steven jabbed a finger in David's chest. ''You have no idea what my plans are. No idea! You just think it's going to be some half-arsed, cockeyed scheme that's never going to work. It's doomed to fail, and I'm going to wind up dead.''

''Yes!'' David exclaimed. ''That's precisely it. That's what I'm worried about.''

''But how can you-''

Now it was David's turn to interrupt. ''If you'll just let me get a word in edgewise,'' he said, ''if you'll shut up and
listen
for a second, you fuckwit...''

His brother leaned back, cocking his head. ''Come on then. Tell me where I'm going wrong. Give me the benefit of your great wisdom.''

''I only want to know if you're sure, really sure, this is what you want to do.''

''You're trying to get me to back out?'' Steven shook his head. ''No way.''

''Steven, up until a couple of hours ago I believed you were dead,'' said David. ''No, not believed. You
were
dead. Now, suddenly, here you are, alive, and it's great. I'm thrilled. Couldn't be more delighted. Only, it turns out you're hell-bent on throwing you life away on this, this campaign of yours. So try and see it from my point of view. I've only just been given my brother back and already I'm facing the prospect of losing him again. I'm trying hard to take it all in, all this, what's happened today, it's a lot to deal with, but right now my honest reaction is I don't want you to go to war against the Pantheon. Not because they're gods and you oughtn't defy them. Simply because, selfishly, you're my brother and I don't want you to die. Again.''

The Lightbringer's mask was impassive, frozen for a moment, blanker than ever. Then the material shifted in a way that indicated a broad smile had broken out underneath.

''That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a long time,'' Steven said. ''You actually care about me.''

''Of course I do.''

''Never mind
me
changing. You've changed, Dave.''

''Have I? I always cared about you.''

''Maybe, but you never showed it. Not as obviously as you've just done.''

David shrugged, a little embarrassed, even though he knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about.

''Thing is,'' his brother went on, ''I couldn't back out even if I wanted to. People are counting on me. They've invested in me. I can't let them down.''

''You could disappear tomorrow,'' David replied matter-of-factly. ''Up and leave. Your followers would be disappointed, perhaps, but they'd get over it. There'd be no comebacks. No one knows who you really are. You could take off that mask and go anywhere, and that would be an end of it.''

''Do a moonlight flit? And what about everything I've established here? You think I can just walk away and leave it?''

''Someone else could take over.''

''No one else could.''

''Then without you in charge it might all simply fade away and be forgotten.''

''You're missing the point. You've seen how people react to the Lightbringer. This isn't some flash in the pan political movement, here today, gone the next. This is a bona fide revolution, the beginning of something big, seismically big. It's begun, it's grown, it's still growing, and it's about to explode across the world stage. I created it. I'm spearheading it. I'm not going to abandon it, not for any reason.''

''Even if it might - no, will - kill you?''

''I'm not afraid of dying. If I die defeating the gods, it won't have been in vain.''

David detected no hint of bravado in the statement. Steven meant it. He believed it.

''All right then,'' he said. ''That leaves me with only one option.''

''What?'' said Steven with a wary laugh. ''You're going to clonk me on the head, knock me out and carry me off over your shoulder? Spirit me out of the country?''

The thought had crossed David's mind, if only flickeringly briefly.

''No,'' he said. ''I'm going to join you.''

''Come again?''

''I said-''

''I heard. I just... Really? Join me?''

''Someone needs to keep an eye out for you. Someone has to watch your back. Someone to make sure you don't do something really, truly stupid. Might as well be me.''

Steven was momentarily dumbfounded. ''Dave, I hoped... Well, that's why I brought you here. I thought I might be able to convince you to... And now you... Fuck. This is great. You're on board? Seriously?''

''Seriously.''

Steven cheered, grabbed his brother in a fierce embrace, punched him manfully on the shoulder, did a little dance on the dusty earth.

David let him celebrate, feeling pleased that he had given Steven what he wanted. Pleased, too, that he had put himself in a good position to try and steer his brother away from the suicidal course he was on.

But not happy.

Far from happy.

14. Relations

T
he First Family are a confusing lot, especially when at home, in their Palace of Unity. There, in a building that appears to have an infinite number of floors but actually has only one, they dwell together, inseparable - father, mother, son, daughter, all seemingly alike, hard to tell apart despite their many differences. Shu, of the air, is married to his sister Tefnut, of the rain, and their son Geb, of the earth, is married to his sister Nut, of the sky. But Geb is effeminate, so much so that he and Nut could almost be twins. And Geb is also a mummy's boy, so enamoured of Tefnut that he once even raped her. For this crime he was never punished, and it has been speculated that the rape was not perhaps a one-sided affair, that Tefnut was at least a half-willing participant. So they are a close family in many ways. Too many, perhaps.

All this passes through Ra's mind as he manifests in the First Family's living quarters and eyes the bed which dominates the room. It is a bed of enormous dimensions, a world unto itself, and it is festooned with mountainous cushions and oceanic counterpanes of damasked silk, upon which the four members of the Family recline, naked, entwined, semi-asleep. It takes him a moment to distinguish one from the other, to identify this leg as Shu's and that breast as Tefnut's, this hip as Geb's and that shoulder as Nut's. They are a mass of disrobed divinity, like some protean, many-limbed organism. Even their glowing headdresses, though varied, seem similar.

Roused by Ra's arrival the Family members separate, out of politeness. They sit apart on the bed, at each of its corners, and Shu shows himself to be a wizened, weak-eyed old man, crowned with a feather, and Tefnut a flowing-haired old woman with a cobra shimmering above her. Geb, meanwhile, takes the form of a young man who, though girlishly handsome, has a goose-like cast to his features, and Nut becomes a beautiful young woman in a night-blue, star-spangled dress, her head haloed with the outline of a water pitcher.

As one, they formally greet their visitor, who responds no less formally even though he is impatient to get down to business.

''First Family,'' Ra says, ''upholders of all there is, I come in supplication, craving a boon.''

''From us?'' says Shu in his thin, wispy voice. ''The almighty Ra, seeking
our
help?''

Geb cackles gleefully and chants, ''Ra, Ra, he's come far, he wants our help, he's asked our pa.''

Both his sister-wife and his sometime-lover mother hiss at him to be quiet.

''Forgive my son, O Sun God whose secret name is known only to Isis,'' said Tefnut. ''You know how lacking in self-restraint Geb is,'' she adds with an indulgent smile.

Ra bows in a manner that implies understanding, if not absolution.

Nut yawns and stretches languorously, arching her back, and briefly she is a firmament, the glittering heavens, spreading vast and forever. Then, a woman once more, she says, ''Whatever is in our power to do, Ra, we shall.''

''I'm grateful,'' says Ra. ''I should warn you, though, that the favour I require of you is one that, simple as it sounds, may well prove impossible.''

''Name it anyway, Uncle,'' says Shu.

''I wish you to bring peace among your offspring.''

No sooner have the words left Ra's lips than the First Family burst out laughing.

''You could more easily bid the wind to stop blowing,'' says Shu.

''Or the rain not to fall,'' says Tefnut.

''Or the stars not to shine,'' says Nut.

''Or the ground not to tremble when there's a great big rumbling earthquake!'' cries Geb.

''I understand,'' says Ra, ''and I agree. The enmities that exist between them, between Osiris and Set particularly, seem implacable and irreconcilable. However, if anyone were able to find a way of resolving the matter, it would surely be you four, who are the very essence of oneness. You have set an example by overcoming your own disagreements. That places you well to persuade your descendants to follow suit.''

''Undoubtedly,'' says Shu. ''But the truth is, we are unable to help.''

''We would like to,'' says Tefnut, ''but cannot.''

''Too tired,'' says Nut.

''Too bored,'' says Geb.

''We are old, like you, Ra,'' says Shu. ''Old and very weary. Our battles with the other pantheons have left us worn out and drained.''

''We continue to exist,'' says Tefnut, ''but zest for life, for anything, is beyond us.''

''That's why we bequeathed the earth to our descendants,'' says Nut.

''Too much like hard work, running that place,'' says Geb.

''It seemed wise to let them inherit it,'' says Shu. ''It seemed no less wise to divide it up between them in more or less equal portions, for the sake of fairness.''

''In hindsight,'' says Tefnut, ''a mistake.''

''Their old animosities and rivalries would not stay buried,'' says Nut.

''Like Osiris himself!'' says Geb. ''Can't keep
him
underground for long!''