"Janet Morris - Crusaders In Hell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morris Janet E)

And it was a city, so the tales ran, where everything was as it once had been
- where outsiders were unwelcome and never settled, where a language neither
Greek nor English was the norm.
Gilgamesh looked at Enkidu out of the corner of his eye. Enkidu had brought
them here, from the clean violence of the Outback, because of his loins and
his lust for modem weapons.
Gilgamesh had never asked Enkidu if the former servant got pleasure from his
copulation with the woman, or only frustration, as was the lot of so many men
in Hell. Men whose manhood was too dear, too often proved, too important to
their hearts, often could not consummate the act. Gilgamesh and Enkidu had met
because of one such woman, centuries ago in life.
He shook away the cobwebs of memory, so common lately, and said to Enkidu,
"See, the city of ill repute. Let us leave the caravan now, Enkidu, and return
to the Outback, where the hunting is good."
"Gilgamesh," replied Enkidu, "the animals we hunt do not die, they only
suffer. The skins we take ... are these not better left on animals who must
re-grow them? And the haunches we eat, which distress our bowels? Let us go
with the caravan into the city, and explore its treasures. Are you not curious
about That place, which came to Hell entire?"
This woman was destroying Enkidu, rotting the very fiber of his mind,
Gilgamesh realized. But he said only, with the patience of a king, "We will
not be allowed into the city, Enkidu, you know That. the caravan must camp on
the shore and its people go no farther."
"Ah, but the lord of the city will come to us and then, hearing That you are
Gilgamesh, lord of the land, king of Uruk, he will surely invite us there ...
to see what no outsider has ever seen." Enkidu's eyes were shining.
Gilgamesh had never been able to resist that look. He said, "If you will put
away this woman--who will not be allowed to travel with us to the city in any
case--and separate from the caravan thereafter, Enkidu, I will announce myself
to the lord of the city and demand the hospitality due the once king of Uruk -
and his friend."
"Done!" cried Enkidu.
High above the caravan, in a helicopter hidden by Hell's ruddy clouds, an
agent of Authority named Welch reviewed the background data That had brought
him here, on his Diabolical Majesty's most secret service. Welch had become a
member of the Devil's Children, Satan's "personal Agency" among a dizzying
proliferation of lesser agencies, without ever meeting Old Nick face to face.
Agency was special, privileged, demanding and unforgiving of failure.
Agency was not, however, infallible, and the briefing material before Welch on
the chopper's CRT was no better than what Welch's own spotty memory could
provide. Worse, perhaps. Since bureaucracy in Hell functioned but never
functioned well.
Tapping irritably at a toggle to clear his screen, Welch mentally recapped the
"secret" analysis he'd just read:
Mao Tse-tungs Celestial People's Republic had spread quickly along the tundra
of the Outback, stopped only by Prester John's border to the south and the Sea
of Sighs to the west. New Kara-Khitai had already been invaded by the
collectivizing hordes of the CPB, led by Mao's Minister of War himself, Kublai
Khan.
Communist troops in the Outback didn't bother Authority - as Mao had said,