Siris hardly seemed to notice her departure; she was regarding the little man with an expression of awe.
“How do you do it? Are you a magician?”
He snorted with laughter. “I wouldn’t say that. I’m what used to be called a sapper. That’s someone who blows things up.” He held out his hand. “My name’s Bill Doggins, by the way. What’s yours?”
When the introductions were over, Doggins said: “Ah well, better get on with the job. Let’s go and see if we’ve managed to knock a few chips off it.”
They followed him across the grass. His workmen had already gathered round the foot of the tower. He called: “Any luck?”
One of the men shook his head. “Not a bloody crack.” He dipped a cloth in a bucket of water and wiped it across the black soot left by the explosion. “Just look at that!” The wet cloth left a spotlessly white mark behind it. “It hasn’t even stuck to it!”
At close quarters, Niall could see that the tower was not pure white; there was a slight tinge of blue-grey which may have been due to the fact that it seemed partly transparent. To stare at it was a strange sensation, a little like staring into deep water. Niall felt that his eyes should be able to see through its surface, if only he tried hard enough; yet the harder he tried, the more he became aware of the reflection of his own face looking back at him. The effort seemed to make him slightly dizzy. He was reminded of the occasion when his father had taught him to dowse for water with a forked twig; at a certain point, the twig had writhed in his hands, as if it had suddenly come to life, and he had experienced this same curious dizziness as if falling slowly into a deep pit.
He reached out and wiped the black gunpowder stain with his finger; it came off on his fingertip, leaving the surface smooth and shiny. But he noticed the faint electrical tingle as he touched the tower. He pressed the flat of his hand against the spot that had already been wiped clean and the sensation seemed stronger. At the same time, he experienced an indescribable sensation in his head. It was like smelling some sharp, metallic odour, completely unlike the sulphurous smell the gunpowder had left behind. It happened again when he pressed his hand against the surface a second time, and was even stronger when he used both hands.
Doggins was staring up towards the top of the tower, his face twisted into a grimace of puzzlement.
“Why’d you suppose they built it if they don’t want anybody to get inside?”
Veig said: “Perhaps it’s solid.”
Doggins looked at Niall. “Do you think so?”
Niall thought about it, then shook his head.
“No, do you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Doggins shrugged. “Same reason as you. I just don’t.”
A number of bombardier beetles had joined them. Niall could sense their disappointment as they searched the white surface for any trace of a crack. One approached Doggins, and seemed to be rubbing its feelers together. To Niall’s surprise, Doggins raised his hands in front of his face and made similar movements with his fingers, occasionally touching both hands together. The beetle made more movements with its feelers.
Veig whispered incredulously: “I think they’re talking.”
Doggins, who overheard the remark, grinned. “Of course we’re talking.” He made more signals with his fingers. The beetle replied, then turned and walked away. For a creature of such size, it moved with remarkable lightness.
Niall asked: “What was he saying?”
“He says we ought to dig a trench round the foot of the tower and try to get the gunpowder underneath it.”
Siris said: “But why do they want to blow it up? It’s so beautiful.”
“They don’t care one way or the other. It’s them bleedin’ crawlies who want to blow it up.”
“But why?”
Doggins sighed. “I dunno. They just don’t like anything they can’t understand.” He glanced sideways at a number of death spiders who, together with a group of commanders, were approaching the tower. “But I don’t think they’re going to succeed. Not with gunpowder anyway. Now if we could get hold of a bit of dynamite or TNT. . .”
Niall walked slowly round the tower, peering hard at its surface, trying to detect any sign of an entrance. There was not even a crack in the smooth alabaster surface. He continued to experience a curious, tingling sensation, and the sharp, metallic odour.
A voice behind him said: “What are you doing here?”
He started as if awakened from a dream. Odina was standing so close that he bumped into her as he turned.
“I. . . we’re. . . looking at the tower.”
“You know it is forbidden for servants to approach it?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Well, it is. And in this city, ignorance is no excuse. If it happens again you will be punished.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her stern gaze softened. “What are you doing here? Why are you not working?”
“King Kazak said we could start tomorrow.”
“King Kazak?” For a moment she was puzzled. “Ah, the new supervisor. Well, he is subject to the law, like the rest of us. Idleness is against the law.”
Niall said: “We were on our way to see the women’s quarters and nursery. But our guide was hurt by the explosion.”
“Wait here.”
She left him and went back to the group of commanders who were peering into the crater left by the explosion. She talked earnestly for a while, and several of the women glanced curiously at Niall, then at Siris and Veig. After a few minutes she returned.
“Come, I will escort you.” She went up to Veig, who was talking to Doggins, and tapped him briskly on the shoulder.
“Follow me.”
He was startled, but obeyed her. As Siris turned to follow, Doggins gave her a solemn wink.
Odina shook her head at Veig. “Servants are not allowed to speak to slaves of the beetles.”
“Why not?”
The question seemed to irritate her. “Because that is the law. We must all obey the law. And servants are not allowed to ask questions.”
“I’m sorry.”
His apology seemed to mollify her. She beckoned imperiously to a group of charioteers sitting on the wall that surrounded the square; they all snapped to attention. “Take us to the women’s quarters.” Four men pulled a cart over to them and stood at attention as they climbed in. It was only just large enough for four, and Veig and Niall were squeezed on either side of Odina. Niall found the contact of bare arms and thighs curiously disturbing. He observed that, under her bronzed sun tan, Odina’s face had coloured.
The charioteers took a side street out of the square. The buildings towered above them, cutting out the sunlight.
Odina said: “You may ask me questions.”
Veig, who disliked taking orders, replied: “But you told us we weren’t to ask questions.”
“I have now given you permission.” Her voice was as wooden as her expression.
There was silence as they tried to think of something to ask. Then Siris spoke:
“Who built this city?”
“I cannot answer that question.”
Veig said: “Why aren’t we allowed to speak to the servants of the beetles?”
“I cannot answer that question.”
Niall said: “Where is the great happy land?”
“I cannot answer that question.”
“Because you don’t know the answer, or because you’re not allowed to tell us?” Veig asked.
“Because I don’t know the answer.”
Niall said: “What is the great happy land?”
“It is a land over the sea where the faithful servants of the masters go to live out their lives in peace.”
Niall said: “Can I ask you another question?”
“Yes.”
“Last night, when I called the masters ‘spiders’, you told me not to use that word or I’d find myself in the great happy land. What did you mean?”
She smiled. “We also use it to denote the land where the soul goes after death.”
Veig said: “But the servants don’t have to die before they can go there?”
She looked scandalised. “Of course not! They go there as a reward for faithful service.”
The cart had crossed two broad avenues. Ahead, the street now seemed to be blocked by a high wall. Then, as they came closer, Niall realised that the wall ran down the centre of an avenue. At close quarters it was impressive: enormous carved grey blocks, each more than two feet long and cut so accurately that no mortar was required to hold them together. A row of iron spikes ran along the top. A few hundred yards along the avenue, the wall was pierced by a small gateway, the iron gate closed. Two wolf spiders stood on either side of it. As they approached, a woman in a black commander’s uniform came out of a small stone building beside the gate. Odina called: