jherbert.sepulchre-第34部分

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　　'Even　one　of　the　greatest　archaeological　finds　ever　failed　to　turn　up　any　evidence　of　what　went　on　in　Sumerian　society　much　before　2500　BC；'　said　Kline；　ignoring　the　pending　question。　'That　was　when　Sir　Leonard　Woolley　discovered　a　gigantic　grave　site　near　the　city　wall　of　Ur　in　the　1920s。　Thousands　of　the　graves　had　been　plundered；　but　something　spurred　on　the　old　boy　to　dig　deeper；　and　what　he　found　underneath　that　cemetery　staggered　historians　all　around　the　world。'　Halloran　pinched　the　corners　of　his　eyes　with　thumb　and　forefinger。　What　the　hell　was　Kline　rambling　on　about？
　　'Know　what　was　there？'　Kline　gripped　the　arms　of　the　chair　as　if　unable　to　contain　his　excitement。　'Stone　tombs。　Sepulchres！　Can　you　believe　it？　Woolley's　team　got　to　them　by　ramps　leading　into　deep　shafts。　Inside　those　chambers　they　found　intact　skeletons　of　Sumerian　kings；　queens；　princes；　princesses；　and　members　of　the　high　priesthood；　all　decked　out　in　full　regalia　of　gold　and　semi…precious　stones…and　that's　why　it　came　to　be　known　as　the　Royal　Cemetery。　Around　them　were　golden　cups；　steles　and　statues；　beautiful　vases；　silver　ornaments…all　kinds　of　valuable　；tuff。'　Kline　gave　an　excited　laugh。　'And　know　what　else；　L　Halloran？　All　their　servants　and　attendants　were　buried　right　there　with　them。　Court　officials；　soldiers；　priests…even　oxen　with　their　wagons。　No　signs　of　violence；　though。　Those　people　had　accepted　their　fate　without　argument。　They'd　taken　poison　and　allowed　themselves　to　be　sealed　in　with　their　masters　and　mistresses。'　He　grinned。　'How's　that　for　loyalty？'　Halloran　experienced　a　peculiar　sense　of　relief　when　the　other　man　turned　away　from　him　to　gaze　at　the　fire；　as　though　Kline's　intensity　was　a　parasitical　thing。　Some　of　his　tiredness　lifted　and　he　remembered　the　question　he　had　meant　to　ask。
　　But　Kline　was　speaking　once　more。　'For　twelve　years　Sir　Leonard　worked　that　site；　delving；　dusting；　probing；　digging；　yet　nowhere　did　he　find　anything　that　toed　him　of　the　early　Sumerians。　Some　historians　surmise　that　everything　was　destroyed　at　the　time　of　the　Great　Flood…if　there　ever　was　such　an　event。　No　one's　ever　been　sure　whether　or　not　that　was　only　a　myth；　and　one　borrowed　by　another　religion；　incidentally。　For　Noah；　read　Utnapishtim；　a　hero　of　Sumerian　legend。　Anyway；　no　matter；　flood　or　not；　something　should　have　survived　from　that　catastrophe　unless　those　old　boys　didn't　want　it　to。　But　what　could　be　so　bad；　so　diabolically　awful；　that　they'd　want　the　knowledge　of　it　obliterated　from　their　history　Answer　me　that。'　His　head　slowly　came　around　so　that　he　was　facing　Halloran　again；　and　there　was　a　meanness　to　his　smile。　The　flames　of　the　fire　had　died　down；　the　room　considerably　darker。　Halloran　felt　oppressed　by　the　shadows；　as　though　they　were　drapes　closing　around　him。　；And　the　weariness　had　returned；　resting　on　his　eyelids　so　that　they　were　difficult　to　keep　open。
　　The　question。　Not　Kline's　but　his　own。　What　was　the　question？　Kline　had　reminded　him。　Underneath　the　cemetery。　Under。　Heath。　Kline　had　even　emphasised　the　word。　He　thought　of　the　sturdy　oak　door　that　led　to　the　cellar。
　　'Curious　about　what's　down　there？'　said　the　other　man。　'Under　the　house？　Down　in　the　cellar？'　But　Halloran　hadn't　voiced　the　question。　His　head　sagged　with　tiredness。
　　'Not　falling　asleep　on　me；　are　you？'　said　Kline。　'Ah　well；　it's　been　a　long　day；　so　go　ahead；　close　your　eyes。'　He　didn't　want　them　to；　but　his　eyes　closed。　Halloran　stirred　in　the　chair；　his　limbs　leaden。　Sleep　was　approaching　and　it　was　irresistible。
　　'Not　just　a　cellar；'　he　heard　Kline　say　from　a　great　distance。　'Something　more　than　that。　Down　there　is　where　I　have　my　very　own　sepulchre。　Did　you　hear　me；　Halloran？'　Barely。　Kline　must　be　a　long　way　；away　by　now　。　。　。　。　。　My　sepulchre　Halloran　。　。　。
　　。　。yet　the　words　were　suddenly　near；　a　whisper　inside　Halloran's　mind。
　　　
　　　
　　　27　A　DREAM　AND　BETRAYAL
　　
　　'Liam。　Wake　up。'　He　felt　a　hand　shaking　his　shoulder　and　consciousness　quickly　drew　him　away　from　the　unreality　of　his　dream。　Halloran's　body　was　tensed　and　ready　before　his　eyes　opened；　his　fingers　instinctively　curling　around　the　butt　of　his　gun。　Cora　was　leaning　over　him；　her　face　anxious。
　　'Liam；　we　have　to　go　back　to　London　immediately。'　He　looked　past　her　at　the　empty　chair　opposite。　Only　grey　ashes　were　in　the　fireplace　and　daylight　did　its　best　to　penetrate　the　heavy　curtains　over　the　windows。　Stone　eyes　still　watched　him　from　the　corner　of　the　room。
　　'Liam；'　Cora　urged。
　　'It's　all　right。'　He　stood；　all　drowsiness　gone；　his　senses　fully　alert。　He　was　angry　with　himself　when　he　glanced　at　his　wristwatch　and　saw　that　it　was　nearly　8。40。　Why　the　hell　had　he　allowed　himself　to　fall　asleep　in　this　room；　and　why　hadn't　one　of　the　bodyguards　woken　him　at　the　proper　time？　'What's　the　problem；　Cora？'　he　quickly　asked。
　　'Felix　has　just　had　a　call　from　Sir　Victor。　He　has　to　return　to　Magma　right　away。'
　　'On　a　Sunday？'　She　nodded。　'It's　serious。'　He　made　towards　the　door；　but　her　hand　on　his　arm　stopped　him。
　　'Last　night　。　。　。'　she　said。
　　So　much　had　happened　the　night　before　that　it　took　him　a　second　or　two　to　understand　what　Cora　meant。　Her　expression　was　so　solemn；　her　eyes　so　grave；　that　he　couldn't　help　but　smile。　'We'll　talk　later；'　he　told　her；　then　kissed　her　cheek。　They　left　the　room　together。
　　The　streets　of　the　City　were　empty；　save　for　the　few　tourists　who　took　the　occasion　of　such　quietness　to　view　London's　financial　sector。　Light　drizzle　soaked　the　pavements　and　roadways；　freshening　them　for　the　onslaught　they　would　take　during　the　rest　of　the　week。　Glass　towers　glistened　as　though　newly　varnished；　while　older　buildings　hued　darker　as　they　soaked　up　the　dampness。
　　A　convoy　of　three　cars；　a　black　limousine；　a　Mercedes　and　a　Granada；　sped　through　the　deserted　streets；　the　drivers　of　each　checking　their　surrounds　and　rearview　mirrors　each　time　they　were　halted　by　traffic　lights。
　　Halloran　was　in　the　back　of　the　second　car；　the　silver…grey　Mercedes；　sitting　next　to　Felix　Kline；　prepared　to　cover　his　client　with　his　own　body　should　anything　untoward　occur。　Janusz　Palusinski　was　driving　the　armoured　vehicle；　and　Cora　sat　beside　him　in　the　passenger　seat。　Monk　was　the　driver　of　the　car　ahead；　Khayed　and　Daoud；　who　never　ceased　looking　back　to　satisfy　themselves　that　their　master　was　not　far　behind；　were　his　panions。　In　the　Granada；　the　last　in　the　procession；　were　two　Shield　men　who　had　been　taken　off　patrol　duty　around　the　estate。
　　Kline　had　been　unusually　silent　throughout　the　journey；　mentioning　neither　the　events　of　the　previous　night；　nor　the　reason　for　the　summons　to　the　Magma　building　that　morning。　Halloran　realised　he　was　witnessing　yet　another　facet　of　this　strange　man's　nature；　a　quiet　brooding　stillness　that　was　in　sharp　contrast　to　Kline's　irritatingly　animated　and　talkative　side。　This　mood　was　more　akin　to　the　soft…spoken；　cultured　role　that　Kline　sometimes　adopted；　although　again　it　was　different；　for　there　was　no　mocking　in　his　gaze　and　no　air　of　secret　knowledge。　The　small　man　was　withdrawn；　thoughtful；　seemingly　unaware　of　any　danger　he　might　be　in；　with　no　agitation　in　his　movements；　no　nervousness　in　his　scrutiny。　Yet　Halloran　could　sense　a　deep　anger　burning　inside　him。
　　The　Shield　operative　remembered　the　dream　Cora　had　roused　him　from；　for　Kline　had　been　part　of　it。　They　had　walked　together；　he　and　Kline；　Halloran　allowing　himself　to　be　led　by　the　other　man　through　a　great　blackness；　his　hand　in　Kline's　as　though　they　were　lovers。　Although　nothing　could　be　seen；　he　had　felt　a　frightening　vastness　of　space　around　and　above　them；　as　if　they　were　inside　a　cathedral　or　a　huge　subterranean　cave。　Now　and　then　something　light　would　waft　across　his　face；　so　that　he　recoiled；　tearing　there　were　long　trailing　cobwebs　on　all　sides。　Kline's　whispered　voice　assured　him　that　there　was　nothing　to　be　afraid　of；　they　were　merely　passing　through　thin；　unseen　veils。　There　was　something　in　the　distance；　a　tenuous　mass　that　was　blacker　than　the　blackness　around　them；　and　Halloran　could　hear　the　sound　of　his　own　heartbeat　as　they　drew　nearer　to　that　ultimate　darkness；　the　thudding　growing　louder；　joined　by　the　beating　of　another's…Kline's…their　life…surge　keeping　time；　being　as　one。　And　then；　all　about　the　darkness；　eyelids　were　opening　in　slow；　drawn…out　movements；　so　that　a　multitude　of　stone　eyes　stared　as　the　two　men　drew　closer　to　the　void；　the　nucleus　of　the　blackness　itself。　Kline　had　released　his　hand　and　was　stretching　his　arms　towards　the　core；　creating　an　opening　within　its　shell；　their　bined　heartbeats　being　thunderous；　joining…or　so　it　seemed…with　yet　another　whose　loudness　grew　so　that　soon；　very　soon；　it　smothered　their　own；　and　although　the　rising　sound　appeared　to　emanate　from　the　void　before　them；　it　was　everywhere；　filling　the　infinite　space；　deafening　the　two　men。　Kline　was　reaching　inside　that　pitchy　nothingness；　arms　trembling；　his　mouth　gaping　in　a　silent　ecstatic　scream　and　Halloran　had　moved　close　to　see　what　it　was　that　the　other　man　grasped；　but　he　was　blind　in　such　blackness；　he　could　feel　a　terrible　heat；　sense　something　there；　something　he　was　glad　he　could　not　see。　Yet　still　he　reached　out　with　Kline；　the　two　men　joined　in　an　unholy　alliance；　pelled　by　the　mystery　。　。　。
　　'Liam。'　And　Cora's　voice　had　recalled　him　from　the　dream。
　　'Liam。'　The　Mercedes　was　passing　the　Mansion　House；　the　Magma　building　not　far　away；　towering　above　others　around　it。　Cora　had　turned　in　her　seat　and　was　looking　directly　at　him。
　　Halloran　blinked。　He'd　been　pletely　lost　in　his　own　thoughts　and　once　again　was　angry　at　himself　for　his　negligence。
　　'Should　we　drive　straight　down　into　Magma's　underground　carpark；'　Cora　said；　'or　do　you　want　us　to　be　dropped　by　the　front　entrance？'
　　'The　carpark；'　he　replied。　'I　arranged　for　it　to　be　checked　out　by　Shield　before　we　left　Neath。　If　there　were　problems　they'd　have　contacted　us。'
　　'Was　there　any　news　of　those　people　who　tried　to　stop　us　on　Friday？'　she　asked。
　　Cora's　face　was　still　pale；　her　actions　skittish；　the　weekend　in　the　country　apparently　having　had　little　calming　effect；　Halloran　thought　wryly。　'Nothing's　turned　up　so　far。　S