With what I hope was a moment of quiet, contemplative reflection on the fragility of human resistance in that interlude, I hope we can ease ourselves back into the riveting race to unrivalled riches.
The Entry Shaft
Or gay porn.
West sizzled down the drop-rope, shooting past three steeply slanted cross-shafts that intersected with the main shaft.
Porn Count: 4
His falcon sat snugly in a pouch on his chest, while on his head he wore a weathered and worn fireman's helmet, bearing the badge "FDNY 17".
Matthew, was there really much need for you to make a big deal out of a fireman's helmet? Unless, of course, Horus is wearing the helmet, which it can seem like if that sentence is read correctly. Also, "his falcon" has a name.
 |
| His name is Captain. This also is, presumably, what Matthew West thinks Jack West looks like when doing Jack West things. |
He has seen it fit to describe the helmet, more than the 9 principal players of our story.
The rest of the team wore similar helmets, variously modified with flashlights, visors and cameras.
West eyed the cross-shafts as he slid down the rope. He knew what perils lay within them.
Porn count: 5.
"Everyone. Stay sharp. Do not, I repeat, do not make any contact with the walls of this shaft."
Oh! Some tension! Will they die? Will Fuzzy make it! I hope that Pooh Bear and Stretch make it, and that Big Ears makes it out in time to declare his love for Noddy! Those two belong together, ever since they found themselves trapped in a cavern in the dark after a cave in, and they kept themselves warm by holding each other close, discovering long dormant feelings about the other which awakened at that very moment, responding to the tough, strong, yet gently touch of the other, until they could not find where one began and the other ended...
So! How does this play out?
He didn't and they didn't.
Well that solves that then.
The Atrium
West emerged from the ceiling at one end of a long stone-walled room, hanging on his rope.
He did not lower himself to the floor, he just kept himself hanging 8 feet above it.
So far so good.
By the eerie yellow light of his glowstick, he beheld a rectangular room about 30 metres long. The room's floor was covered by a shallow layer of swampwater, water that was absolutely crawling with Nile crocodiles-not an inch of the floorspace was crocodile-free.
Did he mention that there were crocodiles?
You could say that there were a... lotodiles!
Take some shots. And punch me for that pun.
And directly beneath West, protruding out of the water, were the waterlogged, half-eaten bodies of two twentysomething Sudanese men. The bodies lolled lifelessly as three big crocs took great crunching bites out of them.
Called it, black guys died first. Fuzzy must be shitting himself now.
"Big Ears," West said into his throat microphone "there's a sight down here that's not PG-13. Tell Lily not to look down when you two reach the bottom of the rope."
At least he's confirming the age rating of the movie. But self-awareness will not save you now, Matthew.
"Roger to that boss" came an Irish accented reply over his earpiece.
West fired a luminescent amber flare down the length of the atrium.
It was as if the chamber came alive.
Deeply cut lines of hieroglyphs covered the walls, thousands of them.
At the far end of the chamber, West saw his goal: a squat, trapezoidal doorway, raised several feet off the watery floor. The eerie yellow glow of the flare also revealed one other important feature of the atrium -its ceiling.
Thanks for letting us know that, Matt. We're about to be introduced to one of the few creative things in this book, which makes it stand above the usual crowd of villains and "dramas" of his other works (like the Scarecrow novels). That is the trap system he's invented for each of the wonders. They basically act as things to brutally murder the 400 or so men following them, as well as show us how "clever" his team is, in that they read up on them before hand or work out the exact dimensions and functions of the traps merely by looking at them.
Embedded in the ceiling was a line of handrungs, leading to the far raised doorway. Each rung, however, was lodged into a dark square hole that disappeared up into the ceiling itself.
"Wizard," West said "I've got handrungs."
Fucking beautiful. Is this some form of advertising campaign in the same vein as "Got Milk?" Because if it is, I have to say that it's working. I've a craving for some handrungs now. But seriously, could he not have used any other line which would not have sounded half as stupid? For example:
"Wizard, how does this work?"
"Wizard, is there a trap here?"
"Wizard, should we be careful with this one?"
"Wizard, will you please stop pissing on the corpses of the black people?"
"According to the inscription in Imhotep's tomb, we have to avoid the third and eighth rungs," Wizard's voice said "Drop cages above them, the rest are okay."
I'm happy to know that it's Wizard's voice and not some other dick-spanner trying to have any lines in this piece.
"Gotcha"
The Eight traversed the atrium quickly, swinging hand over hand down the length of the chamber, avoiding the two suspect hand rungs, their feet dangling just a few feet above the crocs.
It's good that Wizard's not being a dick at this point, because their lives are almost literally in his hands. He could say practically anything and they'd believe him.
"Yeah, the rungs are all traps, so you'll just have to jump it."
Also, I guess we should start calling this place an... Eightrium!
Thanks for reminding us Matt. We know she's the little girl. She was mentioned a few sentences ago. Take a shot.
moved in the middle of the group, clinging to the biggest trooper of The Nine, her hands clasped around his neck, while he swung from rung to rung.
It's just occurred to me: Wizard's actually still with them at this point, so why make this big deal about the throat microphones when the man could just stand behind Jack and tell him what needs to be done, rather than faffing about with technology and the like?
Oh, wait, that would mean Reilly wouldn't get a chance to tell us that they have mircophones beneath their fireman's helmets.
The Low Tunnel
A long low tunnel led away from the Atrium, heading into the mountain.
West and his team ran down it, all bent forward.
Porn count: 6. Yeah, it's tenuous, but don't take this away from me. Also, I know at least one of them's going to be bent forward, as he's carrying a kid on his back.
Horus had been set free and she flew out in front of West, gliding down the passageway.
Be free Horus, you magnificent bastard! Be free of this book!
Lily ran fully upright.
Oh, so he's put the kid down now. I wish he'd kicked her to the crocodiles, for reasons we are about to see. Where is she in relation to the others? If she's at the back, then that's dangerous as she will fall behind. If she's in the middle, that will be safer but will slow the group, as she'll be at a slower pace to the "professional" soldiers. Matthew gives some UTTER bullshit Mary Sue backstory to her later about how fit she is and how she's perfect at everything and "adorable" in every way, but FUCK. THAT. There is no way she'll going to be keeping pace with these guys. Not even Pooh Bear. Oh, yeah, you've not met Pooh Bear properly yet. Don't worry, nobody has.
Water dipped from the low stone ceiling, but it hit their fireman's helmets and rolled off their curved backs, away from their eyes.
An important detail, I'm sure you'll agree. I can't complain though, at least he's giving us details.
The tunnel was perfectly square -1.3 metres wide, 1.3 metres high. Curiously, these were the exact same dimensions as the passageway inside the Great Pyramid at Giza.
Like the entry shaft earlier, this horizontal tunnel was intersected with three cross-shafts: only these were vertical and they spanned the entire width of the tunnel, cutting across it via matching holes in the ceiling and floor.
Seeing as how this was designed by a Pyramid maker and they each had a certain "trademark", it's not really that curious. And this room sounds awfully weird and awfully durable, considering the design.
At one point, Lily's guardian, the large trooper named Big Ears
Gunman, his name is Gunman. Don't call him that retarded fucking name.
 |
| I have also decided that he is Titus Pullo. Not Ray Stevenson, but Titus Pullo. Not a man acting like Titus Pullo, but Titus Pullo. Tius Pullo. |
He knew his mistake immediately and stopped abruptly at the edge of the shaft-
No.
Matthew, you can't do this. You proclaim to be about the pace and action, but you nonchalantly chuck in that line about Big Ears, I mean Titus Pullo, setting off one of the traps which you centre your action set pieces around. There's no drama or gravitas behind this action, it's just a thing which happens as often as Titus Pullo wiping his nose. For fuck's sake, this is fucking awful.
- just as a gushing waterfall of swampwater came blasting out of the upper hole, forming a massive curtain of water in front of him, before disappearing into the matching hole in the floor.
So he avoids the trap. Well, at least I should be thankful you're not killing off our characters before we get to know them. We at least now know that Titus Pullo is a pillock in this universe.
Had he jumped, the rush of water would have taken him and Lily down into the depths of the lower hole.
Good.
Wait, Lily's on his back again now?
Also, we know what that trap would have done, Matthew, thank you.
"Careful, brother dearest," the team member in front of him said after the water had passed. She was the only woman in the group, and a member of the crack Irish commando unit, the Sicathen Fhianoglach an Airm. Old call sign: Bloody Mary. New one: Princess Zoe. Her brother, Big Ears, was also a member of the SFA.
Take shots for the codenames.
Only now are we learning that they're siblings? It's nice of you to tell us, don't get me wrong, but you can't keep doing it like this. It may be inconvenient to have a long paragraph of description for all of them, but this is only marginally better. Believe it or not, Matthew, if you throw us into the action like this, I don't give a fuck which of them makes it.
She reached out and caught his hand and with her help he leapt over the cross-shaft and, with Lily between them, they took off after the others.
That sentence was fucking terrible.
There are two diagrams on the next page. Drink.
I'm not even fucking going there. See you next chapter.
Fantastic, I look forward to the next instalment. Though I do wonder how the fuck the crocodiles ecology works down there...
ReplyDeleteIf the ecology of "Temple" is anything to go by, they are fed people by tribesmen. However, since this trap is never visited after this segment, it is never explained. But fear not! He does explain what kind of hats and guns the villains have, so there is that.
DeleteAlso, many thanks to the patient readers who have come this far.
ReplyDelete