CHAPTER SIXTY TWO


    The three keys turned and the machine released steam and the huge copper egg began to open. A seam that ran around the middle  of the egg split and the container opened like a bulb, the top circle of metal pulling away from a rubber membrane. There was a slick sound of heavily creased joints and hinges. Two steam rams pushed, and steam leaked from pressure release valves. The top of the egg rose until it hit a trigger point that shut off the steam rams, and locked them in place.


    Inside the egg was a throne made of gold. The throne had a low back, with a head piece of gold cast in the shape of a bouquet of roses.


    The arms went out into small buds, also in the shape of roses, also made of thin gold leaf.  The throne had crimson upholstery, and crimson cushions, and on the cushions were needlework images of Elion from before, the same Elion that Tom had envisioned in the unsettling darkness of the tower.


    The throne sat on a metal platform, a cast iron checkerboard.


    A sound tinkled from somewhere inside the egg, the sound almost a song, but not quite, like somebody riffing the high notes on a piano in syncopated jazz notes.  SOmething whirred behind the throne, and steam squirted. Two more steam rams opened the checkerboard plate at the feet of the throne, and from the receptacle that lay beneath the checkerboard, a set of stairs moved on a ratchet system, up over the lip of the lower half of the egg, so that the bottom part of the stairs went to the ground. The stairs were structured from a skeleton of iron, with treads of gold. A railing folded out, this also made of gold and moulded into interwoven vines of gold with gold leaves sprouting.


    Tom held the railing and climbed the stairs. At the top of the he turned and looked around and saw both the Emperor and the Princess watching him from their respective booths. They stood at attention with their palms crossed below their bellies, and expectant looks on their faces. Trinket was readying herself to become the ruler of Coronet and the Emperor was preparing to receive a book that would give him immense power once Elion had sent him back to Earth. The Emperor raised a hand and made a motion telling Tom to hurry. Tom couldn’t hurry … he still hadn’t worked out what he was doing.


    Tom lowered himself onto the seat and gazed around the room. He had this distant look in his eyes, like he was creating destiny. His mouth was stretched thin, almost grim. A moment of accomplishment.


    A glint of mirrored light caught his hair … as red as an autumn fall.


    All around the throne there were knobs and buttons. Inlaid in the arm of the throne was a plate with eight switches. Slightly to the front of the throne there was a gold control panel with four emerald knobs cut in the shape of hexagons. On a metal wall to the left of the throne there was a highly polished plate with a large red button in the middle.


    Tom leaned forward and his feet supported him on a checkerboard of iron. He didn’t understand any of the controls, and he wondered how he would go about learning the job of being Elion. He shut his eyes and breathed out but before he had time to consider the problem of the controls.


    He suddenly felt at peace.


    Tranquility soaked into him like the warmth of the sun on a spring afternoon in the large gardens behind the girls school in Blackheath. It soaked in like the green of the trees and the blue of the sky and the yellow and red of the flowers. It soaked in the way golden sap soaks a tree.


    He felt older. He felt like he was being imbued with wisdom.


    Just then an alarm sounded, and a whistle shrieked as steam got driven into a brass trumpet.


    A silver dome that was planted high up inside the top of the egg, began to lower. There was an arch of mesh, and small cogs ran down the mesh, lowering the dome until it came to rest on Tom’s head.


    Tom could hear music, and it was as though the pulsating light from the torches being reflected about with all kinds of mirrors was creating music in the air. The music was that of a choir, like the boys choir from Tom’s school. It sounded like a thousand boys singing, or maybe ten thousand boys.


    The ravens were now thick in the air. They flew above the machine, dropping down from some upper part of the tower. They flew around the machine and out the window, and it was like they were dancing to the music.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Once again Tom had a vision. This was deeper than the vision he had experienced on the dark staircase. This was a fugue. This was a movie, except with sight and sound and smell and taste. This was a sensory experience so overwhelming it seemed stronger and more real than the reality that could be touched.


    The movie was set in the world of Paris, and Tom quickly realised it was unveiling events that were happening in this exact moment.


    Tom could see and feel what was happening to the citizens and creatures of Paris, right now.


    He saw swamp hogs looking around as though startled by some loud and strange noise. Tom realised that the hogs had become aware that Tom was sitting on the throne.


    Tom felt the dull hum of hogs’ thoughts - the slow frequency of their brains ticking through treacle. The hogs, all across Paris, turned to one another, then turned to their surroundings. Their mouths opened with surprise, and slowly they turned their eyes toward the Mudwash. Zombie-like, they started walking, in silence. Their hooves struck stone, or sunk into mud, or splashed across shallow streams. They made gentle plopping sounds in their throats, like the belly flop of frogs into mud.


    They walked toward the Mudwash where turtles could be pulled from the swamps and clubbed and cooked, and where the female swamp hogs lulled in the sun with half-lidded eyes and mouths toothy and expectant.


    Now another movie tugged and Tom felt himself travelling, the air around him wizzing. He descended into the Wisting Woods, through the canopy, falling gently like a fuzzy dandelion pod. He came to the city of  Wyld Fell. Once again he could sense a great change in the right here and the right now. The Thrips were looking at one another with wonder in their eyes. They too knew that Elion was seated back inside the machine. Suddenly, things that mattered no longer mattered, and things that had been neglected now mattered very much. Some of the Thrips were crying. Crying like elves, thought Tom and he smiled slightly. An orchestra played gently into the stillness. The orchestra came from the insects amidst the bark and leaves. Grasshoppers played legs like violins. Ants walked like drummers across the hard ground. Bees blew notes like those of saxophones in a giant hall. Spiders played cymbals on fallen leaves.


    The movie shifted and now Tom hurtled toward the Western Mountains. He descended toward a city high in the mountains. This was the city of dwarves, an ancient city built stone block by stone block high in the mountains. A giant conspiracy of ravens flew above the city. The dwarves gazed from the city wall toward the east, where White Mountain stood with its spectacular singularity, overlooking the holy city of Coronet, and the machine that lay inside its walls.


    They too knew that Elion was in the machine, and that Elion was watching them. They began to clap. They held their thick hands above their heads and clapped in unison.


    Now, the knowledge of Elion began to return. Tom saw how he had once shaped the world of Paris through the power of his mind. He saw how he could not compel change, but could speak to a mind, whisper the truth directly into someone''s thoughts. Like a whisper to a friend.


    Now the movie took him back toward Coronet where Gibor and his army had arrived at the Milkstone river opposite the city of Coronet. Gibor wheeled his horse, which stamped its hooves and wrestled against the bit. Gibor addressed his men, and Tom heard the words. ‘The men were to enter the city of Coronet and only fight where they found active resistance.’


    Tom whispered into Gibor’s thoughts.


    ‘The city is yours. The Emperor is gone. I am anointing you as the new Emperor.’


    A strange look came over Gibor. His eyes raised, and his lips moved slightly, as the strange words formed in his mind. After a moment he smiled, and the scars that lined his cheeks lifted. He breathed in and out and in and out.


    ‘My lord,’ he said.


    Now Tom left Gibor, and the movie ran into the city of Coronet, then onto the road going south. Here there was a man in a colourful suit running in a nimble, light footed gait. Although it was dark the man moved with the speed of good sight.


    Tom interrupted.


    ‘Are you my friend, Fox?’


    The words ran into the thoughts of Fox who was travelling swiftly, with half a million rizers in a leather satchel banging against his hip..


    ‘Go away, go away,’ said Fox, and he hit himself on the side of the head.


    ‘I have taken the seat, Fox.’


    ‘Stop it,’ said Fox, and he hit his head again. ‘Go away.’


    ‘Do you not want to listen to me?’


    ‘No.’


    ‘The rizers are going to weigh you down until you can no longer function.’


    ‘Go away.’


    Tom left Silas Fox running along the south road with his money banging around.


    The machine was clogging and humming, feeding ideas and information. Tom knew what each button on the control panel did, and how he could use them. Tom knew where the book was kept, and how he was going to reach it. Then, like a slap to the face, Tom suddenly realised what his primary  purpose was:


    He had to make the people and creatures of Paris disappear.