"Charles Stross - Duat" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

sarcophagi, stacked carelessly like traveller's chests in the hold of a tramp ship. She
shivered. A tomb, perhaps, more furniture tailored to Anubis' intricate web of self-
delusion. But there were other furnishings here, too. Intricate columns of hieroglyphic
script marched down the walls behind the boxes; a table hulked in the deep shadows,
laden with tableware: and behind it, there was a bundle of what looked like ...

She walked over to the far wall and reached out, grabbed cold metal. She felt a sudden
rush of savage joy at the comfortable weight of wood and iron in her hands. Now we'll see
who's in charge, she decided, carefully avoiding the icy knowledge that if Anubis retained
so much as a shred of his Superbright identity she stood as much chance of resisting him
as a snail before a juggernaut.

Armed with the short halberd, Oshi felt more confident about trying the corridor. She
glanced either way before she stepped out; then darted along from doorway to doorway,
ducking for cover, professionally paranoid. Escape from this lunatic's dream of a dungeon
was her first priority, she decided. But I need to find out what the fuck he's doing at the
wisdom level. Why he's taken it down, dropped the Dreamtime connection too -- which is
just the long-range counterpart of the wisdom link.What does he think he's doing, cutting
himself off? Surely there must be some method to his madness? Two doorways ahead, to
either side, there was a dark stretch: the glow-bulb burned out. Oshi ducked forward,
jumping from cover to cover.

Her only warning was a twitch of air against the nape of her neck. Oshi fell back against
the left-hand wall, spun round with the heavy butt of the halberd braced against stone. A
nightmare presence bore down on her, six arms stretched wide, mandibles rippling in
concentric circles --

"YEEE!"

The Goon lunged forward, skidding, unable to stop. Oshi leaned into the shaft. A


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2: In the Duat

sickening thud jarred her to the core, sprayed hot dark blood across her face as she
twisted, ducked to avoid a lashing fistful of claws. "Yeee --" The screech trailed off into a
bubbly rasp as the Goon shuddered, movements slowing, and tried to tear itself away.
Half-blinded by a foam of blood and sweat, Oshi dragged at the halberd, twisting as it
sucked out of the wounded monster: lift and chop forwards and down, feel the thud of the
axe-blade lodge in something like flesh and bone. Can't see. Where -- down on the floor.
Chop. Hot liquid gouted across her legs. "Lie down and die, dammit!" She shivered,
aching to the core: muscles screamed at her to stop. Is it alone? She froze, listening. Later
she'd swear that she heard the Goon's six-chambered heart falter into silence.

Nothing else moved in the corridor. She breathed in raggedly, looking down through a
clear hole in her visual field: everything else was a solid red-out, obscured by the blood in
her eyes. The living weapon lay at her feet, leaking gore and shit and a loop of twisted
intestines from a messy hole in its abdomen. Its huge and complex head lay at her feet,
outer jaws half-severed from its face. The creature had a sex: it was male, a pair of