"McCay, Bill - Stargate Rebellion" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCay Bill)might deride Thoth's people as mere bean counters, they had no
experience at large-scale operations. Hathor knew the value of good logistics from her time on Ombos. But there was another non-military component to Ra's power-the masters of technology led by Ptah, engineer of the gods. These were the ones who tuned the spacecraft engines, built the udajeet gliders, who fashioned raw quartz-crystal into Ra's instruments of wonder-including the blastlances the guards were so fond of using. To gain control of the empire's technicians, Hathor was going to meet Ptah. The engineer tended to wander the empire, constructing and repairing whatever was needed. The scribe spy system, however, had reported that Ptah had arrived on Tuatthe-world and would visit the palace on Tuatthe-moon. As Thoth stood with averted eyes, Hathor arrayed herself in the regalia of a warrior. "I am ready," she finally pronounced. "Have your people succeeded in locating him?" Thoth nodded. "He's in the maintenance section of one of the older pyramids." "Lead the way." The two moved off with a small cadre of Horus guards. Thoth led them on a circuitous route, both to avoid strongholds of other factions and to disguise their final destination. Ra would never have been expected in the maintenance levels of his pyramid palace, as was shown by the spartan decor. Instead of polished marble and wide spaces with columns, Hathor's party marched through dark, narrow corridors of raw stone. The air grew warm and stuffier, with a faint ozone smell, as if the very stuff they breathed had been subtly charged, ionized by great energies at work. Hathor knew this atmosphere only too well. Long ago the first triumph of her career had been to marry the Ptah of the eye of Ra. She and the head god had consorted together, and there was nothing that Ptah could say. He had suffered his divine cuckolding in cold silence, not even commenting on the brilliant military career Hathor had carved out on the basis of her own competence. When she left for Ombos, Ra had been present ... but Ptah had not. Following her guards down the Stygian passageway, Hathor banished her thoughts. Ancient history, she told herself. The Ptah of the First Time must have perished thousands of years ago, as had Thoth, Sebek, and all the others ... except for Ra. And, of course, herself, suspended somewhere between life and death. Ahead, Hathor discerned light at the end of the tunnel, not the murky, directionless luminescence that Ra favored but a harsh actinic glare. "His workshop," Thoth whispered. They entered to find technicians frantically shifting around some mysterious machinery while a masked man wielded an arc welder. The mask was made of smoked glass, unlike the animal heads surmounting most of the gods. The first Ptah had disdained the practice, and had gone into history depicted as a bearded human. This Ptah had apparently encountered physical disaster of cataclysmic proportions. The arm holding the welding device was mechanical, composed of golden-glistening quartz. In fact, more than half of Ptah's body seemed artificial, the joints between machinery and meat hidden in mummylike linen wrappings. The few patches of flesh Hathor saw were dead white, seeming to glow with the decaying luminescence of fungus on a swamp tree. The welding device clicked off as Ptah became aware of his guests, and the protective eye mask morphed |
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