Robert Rankin - Necrophenia

Take everything off? Climb naked? Perhaps not. But take off the heavy stuff and don’t bring the rucksack. Although perhaps do bring-

I tucked the item I had decided to bring into a trouser pocket. Tested the line once more, let it bear my weight, then took to climbing. And I do have to tell you, it was no easy matter. But I kept at it. Tenaciously. With dedication. With resolution. And steadfastness. And more dedication. And things of that nature.

Specifically.

And there I was, this tiny figure dangling above this sunken city of gold. A rather strange and anomalous sight, I supposed, to anyone who might have been looking. And, peering down, I noticed that the lady in the golden straw hat was looking.

And waving.

But I really couldn’t wave back. But I smiled.

And I inched upwards, the slim cord cutting into my fingers and me growing all hot and bothered and very short of breath. But I pressed on. Onwards and upwards. And after what felt like a very long time indeed, but probably didn’t seem like anything much at all to the lady in the golden straw hat, who had no concept of time, I was inside the rocky ceiling above the Golden City of Begrem. And here I was able to get a purchase with my feet upon rocks and this made the going easier. Although it did involve some rocks getting kicked away and hurtling below.

And I did register a distant scream, followed almost immediately by a sickening thud. But I did not give that too much thought, as I had other things on my mind. The lady had probably been able to dodge the falling rock in time.

And I climbed onward and upward.

And eventually emerged into Mornington Crescent East (discontinued usage) Subway Station.

And I had a really good puff and a really good cough and I rolled over and lay there, between the ruination of the tracks, and I breathed a great big sigh of relief.

And then I all but pooed myself.

Because someone cried, ‘It is he. The prophecy is fulfilled.’ And I looked up, blinking and cowering, to find the high priest looking down upon me, and others of Begrem, and they were all holding burning torches to light up the platform, and cheering.

And the high priest had my flare in his hands and had evidently been holding it steady while I climbed.

‘You,’ I said. ‘You held the rope for me.’

‘I caught the flamy thing,’ said the High Priest. ‘It was very hot. It burned my hands.’

‘You waited for me? You helped me? Why?’

And he flourished the page that had been torn from the Book. ‘Because that is what it said I would do.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Well, splendid.’

‘And we are all here, awaiting your orders. As we awaited your ascent of the cord.’

‘Awaiting my orders?’ I said.

‘To engage in battle against the Evil One,’ said the high priest, ‘As is written. We all have our weapons and we await your orders.’

‘Right,’ I said.

‘Your Army of the Underworld, to defeat the Army of the Dead.’

‘Yes,’ I said, with a great big grin. ‘And how cool is that!’

And thusly did the golden Army of the Underworld smite the evil Army of the Dead. And verily did they smite them and did trounce them, too. And Tyler was made King of the City of Begrem and many were his golden concubines and muchly did he take his joy in them when he was not a-strumming upon his ukulele.

Or, so I thought, it could oh so easily be.

And I wished I’d read a few more pages of The Great Book of All Knowledge (and Selected Lyrics). Just to make sure.

But I hadn’t and I’d have to wing it.

But the golden warriors crowded all about me upon the rubbly platform of Mornington Crescent East (discontinued usage), all a-cheering mightily and rattling their sabers, and waving the flaming torches that they held.

And I gave hearty cheers to them and called them mighty men.

And I gave a little speech then of the ‘once more into the breach, dear friends’ persuasion. And I counted up those who crowded round me, some thirty in number, lit, rather nobly I thought, by the flaming torches, and bade them call to their comrades in arms, who were surely lolling about on the stairways checking out the ancient posters, that all should gather round to listen to, what I felt, would be later considered a historic speech.

As soon as I had managed to compose it in my head.

And the high priest did the calling out.

And he called out to me, saying-

‘What other warriors, sire?’

And I liked the ‘sire’ part of that, but said, ‘What do you mean by that?’

And he said, ‘By which part of which?’

And I said, ‘The bit where you asked me what other warriors?’

And he said, ‘Oh, that bit, well, because there are no other warriors, sire. We are all the men of Begrem.’

‘And the women also,’ added a golden girlie.

‘Except for my mum downstairs,’ said the high priest.

And I said, ‘Hold on there, what are you telling me? That you, noble fellows that you undoubtedly are, are all that remain of the people of Begrem?’

And the high priest shrugged and said, ‘Well, how many folk could you sustain in a closed environment on a limited diet of cockroaches and mushrooms?’

And I did not like the tone of the high priest and did tell him so. And the high priest shrugged and said he was sorry, but surely thirty men was a pretty big army. And how many warriors did I think they were liable to run up against? Because they were all well hard and up for it. And the other army could come and have a go, if they thought they were ’ard enough.

Well, you had to admire his courage, anyway.

‘So,’ I said, suddenly downcast, ‘just the thirty of you.’

‘Thirty-one, including my mum.’

‘Forget your mum,’ I said. ‘Although she did ask me to pass on her love and say that she really enjoyed the pudding.’

‘Aie,’ said the high priest. ‘She’s a bonny lass and no mistake.’

To which I raised my eyebrows, but had no reply to make.

‘So, sire,’ said the high priest, ‘would you care to make your rousing battle speech now?’

And I took to shrugging and said that I was no longer in the mood and perhaps I’d make it later. But the high priest said that now really would be the best time. And that he had memorised the bit in the Book that said that I did. So it would probably be better for me if I didn’t try to mess with prophesied Fate. And there was something about the way he said it that suggested he really really meant it.

‘Oh, all right then,’ I said. All sulky. ‘Gather round, oh mighty warriors, and hearken unto me.’

The high priest gave me the thumbs-up to this and winked an eye in my direction.

‘Now is the winter of our discontent,’ I began, ‘when we must fight them in the fields and on the beaches and keep a welcome in the hillside and gird up our loins and ride ’em, cowboy. Cometh the hour, cometh the man. Cry God for Harry and the George. And the show’s not over until the fat lady takes tea with the parson.’

And I paused and did noddings of the head. But nobody cheered.

So I continued in a likewise manner, ‘The time is right for fighting in the street,’ I said. ‘War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing. But you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs. Oh, and kill everyone and let God sort it out. Geronimo!’

And I stopped there and did some shakings of the head. And one of the golden girlies clapped a little.

‘Oh, listen, fellas,’ I said. ‘I don’t have any great battle speech to give you. Directly above us there is what you will consider to be a mighty tower. And at the very top of this tower sits the Evil One. Except at weekends, when he probably plays golf with the President, or something. But I’m pretty sure we can catch him in on weekdays. And although you don’t understand the concept of days, I will explain it to you. But he’s up there and we’re down here. So the idea is that we get ourselves up there somehow and slay him, pretty much as bloodily as you fancy, really.’