"Bischoff, David - Night World" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bischoff David)

"He, Mr. Tamer? Just a moment ago, you were referring to it."

Turner chuckled ruefully. "After our talk of spiritual forces, you'll enjoy this. Viscount." His chuckle turned into a belly-laugh. "The Computer, or creature if you will, has a name for itself."

"Indeed?"

"Yes." Turner ceased laughing and became darkly reflective. "It calls itself Satan."




"Enter, my Servant," boomed a sonorous voice from the darkness.

The vampire obeyed without hesitation, stepping into the wide room. From all around came the menacing hiss of fire. Along the path, flames leapt into the blackness, illuminating at random, simulated rock-walled chambers, each inhabited by human forms in poses of agony and degradation. With its acute hearing, the creature noted that the wretched cries were but recordings.

"To the rear of the hall, my vampire," said the voice.

The vampire followed it, moving around columns resembling stalagmites and stalactites.

"Hold."

The vampire halted.

"Behold your Master."

Bright illumination shot up in the corner, flowing along a large section of wall. Gnarled, twisted machinery abounded. Mirror-bright puddles lay where molten metal once had flowed. Like dead vines, cables hung in disarray from the cinder-spattered ceiling.

Long consoles, and banks of tape transports stretched interminably into the darkness, humming, clicking, working.

Suspended in the glassy heart of one machine, immersed in a nutrient bath, and festooned with wires connecting him to the Computer, was the Master.

"Bow to the Prince of Darkness," the deep, dreadful voice demanded. The Master's lips did not move.

They were hardly lips at all, mere flaps of white skin barely covering the teeth, set in a permanent deathly leer.

The vampire obediently whisked its cape around and executed a deep bow.

"Rise."

The vampire rose.

"I have summoned you because there is danger afoot. Danger to us. Danger that must be dealt with."

No emotion crossed the travesty of a face in the bath. The eyes had long ago bulged into a fixed stare, Exposed veins pulsed in one temple. Wisps of white hair lay slack against the pale pate.

"A remnant of the forces of God has fallen from the sky. Those that oppose us here on Styx would find it, establish contact with the Others from Beyond, find weapons that would do us harm."

There was an ominous stillness. The thing that had once been human shuddered slightly, rippling the surface of its bath.