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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 common 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 complexities of its structure quite clearly. The faces of the
citizens were becoming 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 encompass 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. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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