George beheld the Marvel to which the previous speaker had alluded. The Marvel that they were ‘not fit to gaze upon’.
The Marvel that had been made manifest at this time ‘when the prophecies are being fulfilled’.
The Marvel was clothed in robes of gold and silver, bronze and copper and lapis lazuli. She wore the wings of an angel and a helmet likened to that of a samurai. Upon this was a crescent moon and a most distinctive image.
The being’s face was golden, Her eyes of the purest green, and burnished copper ringlets framed Her lovely upturned face.
‘It is Her,’ cried Professor Coffin, and he bowed extravagantly. ‘It is the Japanese Devil Fish Girl Herself.’
George found that he was bowing too and swaying slightly also. Dizzy from hunger and half-gone with madness for fear of it all, George could manage but three brief words, before he fainted away.
‘It is Ada,’ said George Fox, as blackness closed about him.
He awoke upon a bed of many comforts, with pillowings of swansdown and cushionings of silk. The air was rich with exotic perfumes, trays of rare confectionary were near at hand, and to George it all appeared most heavenly.
‘I have died,’ cried George as he woke to this vision of loveliness. ‘And I have
not
gone to the bad place, thank you, God.’
‘You have certainly found religion,’ said a voice.
And George looked to the speaker and tears came into his eyes and George said, ‘Ada, Ada – it
is
you.’
‘It certainly is.’ Ada, who had evidently been leaning over George, mopping at his brow with lavender water, straightened, twirled and went slowly through one of those provocative dances that never lose their popularity at the music hall.
George looked on appreciatively and would probably have clapped when she was done and called for an encore, but for the nausea that he felt and the growling of his stomach.
‘Oh yes,’ said Ada, ceasing her voluptuous motions. ‘You must be very hungry. I will attend to that.’ She turned and swept away, a veritable fairy queen in all her marvellous raiments and trappings, a veritable Goddess indeed.
George heard words barking and gargling from the translating machine. Ada Lovelace returned to him and settled down on the fantastic bed.
‘Breakfast soon,’ she said to George. ‘And over it I will tell you all. For it is a wonderful story.’
The breakfast was delicious, of course. For how could it have been otherwise? For surely it was ambrosia. That food consumed by the Gods.
Ada Lovelace tasted this and that from the golden salvers set before her on a low carved table of the Turkish persuasion.
George sat opposite her. They both sat on tapestried cushions.
‘Is Darwin all right?’ George asked.
Ada Lovelace nodded, then made a pained expression. ‘This helmet is somewhat tight,’ she said, ‘but I thought it imprudent to mention that it really isn’t my size.’
George continued with his eating.
‘You’re not going to ask how the professor is?’ asked Ada.
George shook his head and munched on. ‘I could not care less,’ said he.
‘An evil man,’ said Ada Lovelace.
George looked up. ‘Thank God you have come to your senses,’ he said. ‘I know what he did to us.’
‘Poisoned us somehow,’ said Ada.
‘Poisoned us with
this
.’ George drew from his waistcoat pocket the slim glass phial with the screw-on cap. ‘The Scent of Unknowing. I had Darwin liberate it from the professor’s pocket. And the professor confessed to me as to what it did when he thought it was lost for ever.’
‘I do not remember at all,’ said Ada, and she shivered slightly. ‘And I fear for what that terrible man might have chosen to do to me when he and I were alone.’
George Fox made a ferocious face.
‘It is all right,’ said Ada. ‘He has no more power over us. We are safe from him.’
George poured out something and sipped at it. ‘Are you sure that I am not dreaming this?’ he asked.
‘I
did
wonder if
I
was,’ said Ada, ‘but no. Would you like to hear the story?’
‘Very much,’ said George Fox, and he settled back to listen.
‘This island is a sacred island,’ began Ada Lovelace. ‘Sacred to every religion, on this planet and off it. The statue of the Goddess in the temple above is as old as time itself. It is the most sacred object in all of the universe.
The Book of Sayito
the Goddess is here and I have read from this book.
‘Allow me to explain all. The flying monkey creatures carried me away – not to do me harm, but to rescue me from amidst the battle. The natives are not allowed to climb so near to the temple. They protect the lower slopes, that is their job. The monkeys protect the temple.
‘The Martians here see all, you see. All about this island anyway. They have camera devices hidden all over the island that relay images here. They saw me. And they recognised me to be Sayito, the Japanese Devil Fish Girl.’
‘But you are not really Her,’ said George. ‘Or
are
you?’
‘Of course I am
not
,’ said Ada Lovelace. ‘Although I do, it seems, somewhat resemble Her. My eyes, my hair. And remember, no woman has set foot upon this island for one thousand years or more. Their prophecies said that Sayito would come. An easy mistake to make.’
George went, ‘Hm,’ quite loudly. Sometimes things can be just
too
convenient to be altogether likely.
‘The flying monkeys carried me to a tower and I was brought down here in a lift. And George, I have to tell you, I was terrified, I cried for you, I truly did. A city full of Martians right here beneath the surface of our world? How fearful a thing is this? But I was led to the translating machine and told that I was the Goddess and that all was mine, for my return had fulfilled part of the prophecies.’
‘Incredible,’ said George Fox, and not, he felt, without reason. ‘And what of these prophecies?’
‘I was taken to the inner temple. There is a great temple above that I did not visit.’
‘I did,’ said George. ‘It is very large, with a fine big statue that really does look like you.’
‘Then I would like to see
that
. But, as I say, I was led to the inner temple. Ritually bathed, which I did not like much, because those smelly Martians were rather too intimate with their washings. Then I was clothed in the raiments of the Goddess, which I really
did
like. But then who wouldn’t? Then made up in golden cosmetics, and shown the sacred book,
The Book of
Sayito
.’
‘I am most confused about this,’ said George. ‘This and so many other things besides. When we first met, I recall you telling me that
The Book of Sayito
was the Venusian Bible. What are the Martians doing with it?’
‘Exactly what I wondered, George. But it is all in the book. The book, you see, is a grimoire, written in a universal language that can be understood by anyone of any race. It is a magic book, George. Of the very first magic. I was shown it and I opened it, but when I read from it, I read the first chapter of Genesis. And I thought, this cannot be right, this is the Judaic Bible. So I flicked back a few pages and the next time I read it, it was all different. A different creation myth. This time the one of the Martians.’
‘I would dearly like to see this book,’ said George.
‘And you will. But allow me to continue. In this myth there is no beginning,
no
creation, simply cycles that repeat themselves and go on and on and on. In the version I read, two great kings in two great cities wage war upon one another. But the daughter of one king and the son of the other have fallen in love. And so to share their love they run away together. They take with them the great books of knowledge and they escape their planet in a spaceship.’
‘And they come
here
?’ asked George. ‘Why, I saw an ancient crashed spaceship upon the beach. Is this story true then?’
‘I believe so. The spaceship crashes, they climb to the peak of the volcano and there they find the temple of Sayito, which has always been there, George. It was never actually built, it has
always
been here.’
George had his doubts as to the logic of this, but he was enthusiastic about allowing Ada to continue.
‘They find the temple, they open a book at the base of a statue—’
‘That is how we came here,’ said George. ‘Sorry, please continue.’
‘They descend to these caverns and here they remain. They become Adam and Eve on this world. They have the books of knowledge with them, science, maths, engineering. Their children, their children’s children, their children’s children’s children, build this mighty city.’
‘Where did
The Book of Sayito
come from?’ George asked.
‘They took it from the hands of the statue of the Goddess.’
‘Please continue,’ said George.
‘There is not much more to tell. There are prophecies in the book that one day the Goddess will return in a living body to free them from imprisonment.’
‘What imprisonment?’ asked George.
‘Oh, they cannot leave these caverns,’ said Ada. ‘The upper air is poison to them. They would die as their brethren from Mars who attacked the Earth all died.’
‘Then how are they going to be freed from their imprisonment? Are they intending to return to Mars?’
‘They cannot. The spacecraft the prince and princess arrived in is broken beyond repair and there are certain minerals necessary to power the drive systems that only exist upon Mars.’
‘You learned an awful lot from that book,’ said George.
‘I felt it best that I did. I did not wish to be asked certain questions that only the genuine Goddess would be able to answer and come up short, as it were.’
‘Incredible,’ said George. ‘But tell me more about this fulfilling of the prophecies business.’
‘Ah yes,’ said Ada. ‘That is the rather important part. Over the centuries the Martians here have been building more and more. They had the books to teach them how. They raised this remarkable city. They constructed the guns, the horseless carriages and the flying machines. They built and they planned and they waited until the prophecy was fulfilled and Sayito appeared to them in living form. Then, as I said, it would be time to leave their imprisonment. Travel above in their specially sealed war craft and lay waste to all that dwell upon the surface of the planet. This would happen because the infidels of the upper world would commit the Great Blasphemy, and for this they would have to be punished. By death.’
‘And what is the Great Blasphemy?’ George asked.
‘That I do not know for certain. But it will result in the complete annihilation of Mankind, if the book is anything to go by.’
George Fox choked on a tasty viand. Ada patted his back.
‘Sorry,’ said George, ‘but this is very bad.’
‘Very bad,’ agreed Ada. ‘But I have not as yet mentioned the worst bit. The Martians will rise from the volcano’s crater in their aerial warships and head across the planet spreading death. It will all end in an Apocalyptic Battle. Which, as far as I have been able to make out, no matter how many times I flick backwards and forwards through the pages of
The Book of Sayito
, is how the Bible of every single belief ends. The Apocalyptic Battle between Good and Evil. The forces of Good will defeat the forces of Evil.’
‘That at least is comforting,’ said George.
‘Not as such,’ said Ada Lovelace. ‘The Martians naturally consider themselves to be the forces of Good. They will, after all, be led to the world above by the living Goddess Sayito.
‘The forces of Evil who will have committed the Great Blasphemy and will be defeated hail from what the book describes as “the seat of all Evil”. Or London, as it is otherwise described.’