At random, he selects a booth, enters.

“Yes?” inquires the booth.

“Queries,” Horus replies.

“A moment.”

There comes a metallic click and an inner door opens.

“Enter the cubicle.”

Horus moves to enter a small room. It contains a bed, of sorts. A heavy female torso lies upon it, joined with a gleaming console. A speaker is set within the wall.

“Mount the inquiry unit,” he is instructed.

Discarding his loincloth, Horus does this thing.

“The rule is that your questions will be answered for so long as you give satisfaction,” he is informed. “What is it that you wish to know?”

“I have a problem: I find myself in conflict with my brother. I tried to defeat him. I failed. I cannot make up my mind as to whether I should seek him out again and renew the battle…”

“Insufficient information to reply,” comes the answer. “What sort of conflict? What sort of brother? What sort of man are you?”

Gruesome grow the lilacs and the rose-rows be hedges of thorn. The garden of memory is filled with frantic bouquets.

“Perhaps I have come to the wrong place…”

“This may be, and it may not. Obviously, though, you do not know the rules.”

“Rules?” and Horus stares up at the dull mesh of the speaker.

Dry monotone, the voice is sifted through:

“I am not a seer, nor am I a foreseen. I am on electrical-mechanical-biological votary of the god Logic. Pleasure is my price, and for it I will invoke the god for any man. To do so, however, I need a more complete question. I do not possess sufficient data to answer you at this point. So love me, and tell me more.”

“I do not know where to begin,” Horus begins. “My brother once ruled all things-”

“Stop! Your statement is illogical, unquantifiable-”

”… and quite correct. My brother is Thoth, sometimes called the Prince Who Was A Thousand. One time, all of the Midworlds were his kingdom.”

“My records indicate the existence of a myth concerning a Lord of Life and Death. According to the myth, he had no brothers.”

“Correction. These matters are generally kept within the family. Isis had three sons, one of them by her lawful Lord, Osiris; two of them by Set the Destroyer. Unto Set she begat Typhon and Thoth. Unto Osiris she begat Horus the Avenger, myself.”

“Thou art Horus?”

“You have named me.”

“You wish to destroy Thoth?”

“That was my assigned task.”

“You cannot do it.”

“Oh.”

“Please do not depart. There may be more questions you wish to ask.”

“I can’t think of any.”

But Horus cannot depart at this moment, for the fires are upon him.

“What are you?” he finally inquires.

“I have already told you.”

“Yet how have you become what you are: half woman, half machine?”

“This is the one question I may not answer, unless I am properly cued. I shall, however, attempt to comfort thee, seeing that thou art distraught.”

“Thank you. You are kind.”

“It is my pleasure.”

“I’d say that once you were human.”

“That is correct.”

“Why did you cease being so?”

“I may not say, as I have said.”

“May I help you in any way to effect anything which you may desire?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I may not say.”

“Do you know for a fact that Horus may not destroy Thoth?”

“This is the most valid probability, based on the knowledge of the myths which I possess.”

“If you were a mortal woman, I’d be inclined to be kind to you.”

“What does that mean?”

“I might love you for your terrible honesty.”

“My god, my god! Thou hast saved me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have been doomed to this existence till one who is greater than men shall look upon me with love.”

“I might look upon you in such a manner. Would you deem that probable?”

“No, for I am too used.”

“Then you know not the god Horus.”

“It is the utmost improbability.”

“But I’ve no one else to love. So I love you.”

“The god Horus loves me?”

“Yes.”

“Then thou art my Prince, and thou hast come.”

“I do not-”

“Bide thou a moment and other things shall occur.”

“I shall abide,” says Horus, standing.

THE THING THAT IS THE HEART

Vramin walks through the House of the Dead. Had you eyes in that place, you couldn’t see a thing. It is far too dark for eyes to be of value. But Vramin can see.

He walks through an enormous room, and when he reaches a certain point within it there comes a light that is dim and orange and crowded into corners.

Then they come up out of the transparent rectangles which now appear in the floor, come up unbreathing, unblinking and horizontal, and they rest upon invisible catafalques at a height of two feet, and their garments and skins are of all colors and their bodies of all ages. Now some have wings and some have tails, and some have horns and some long talons. Some have all of these things, and some have pieces of machinery built into them and some do not.

There comes a moaning and a creaking of brittle bones, then movement.

Rustling, clicking, chafing, they sit up, they stand up.

Then all bow down before him, and one word fills the air:

“Master.”

He turns his green eyes upon the multitude, and from somewhere a sound of laughter comes to fall upon his ears.

Turning, turning, turning, he waves his cane.

Then there is a sudden movement and she stands by his side.

“Vramin, your new subjects pay you homage.”

“Lady, how did you get in here?”

But she laughs again and does not answer ma question.

“I, too, have come to honor thee: Hail Vramin! Lord of the House of the Dead!”

“You are kind, Lady.”

“I am more than kind. The end draws near, and that which I desire is almost at hand.”

“It was you who raised these dead?”

“Of course.”

“Do you know the whereabouts of Anubis?”

“No, but I can help you find him.”

“Then let us lay these dead to rest once more, and I may ask your assistance. I may also ask what it is that you desire.”

“And I may tell you.”

And the dead suddenly lie down and descend into their graves. The light departs.

“Do you know why Anubis fled?” he inquires.

“No, I am only just arrived here.”

“He departed, pursued by your son Typhon.”

And the Red Witch smiles within her veils.

“That Typhon lives pleases me beyond measure,” she says. “Where is he now?”

“Presently, he is seeking the life of Osiris. It may be that he has already disposed of both the dog and the bird.”

And she laughs, and her familiar leaps upon her shoulder and holds its stomach with both hands.

“How joyous a thing this would be-now! We must look upon this affair!”

“Very good,” and Vramin draws a green picture-frame upon the dark air.

Isis moves to his side and takes his hand in hers.

Suddenly there is a picture within the frame, and it moves.

It is the picture of a dark horse shadow, alone, moving upon a wall.

“This is of no help to us,” says Vramin.

“No, but it is good to look upon my son once again, my son who contains the Abyss of Skagganauk within him. Where may his brother be?”

“With his father, as they have gone to fight the Nameless once again.”

And Isis drops her eyes and the picture wavers.

“I would look upon this thing,” she finally says.

“Before this, I would locate Anubis and Osiris, if they still live-and Madrak.”

“Very well”

And within its emerald frame, the picture slowly takes form.