The doctor lifted the carcass out of the cage with a pair of wooden tongs and carried it from the room.
"Of course," said Peter Fungabera. "You have many times the body mass of that rodent. With you it would take much longer." The doctor had returned and with him were the guard captain and two troopers.
"As I said, the doctor has designed the apparatus. I think he has done excellent work, given the limited materials and shortage of time." They lifted Tungata's chair and placed him closer to the cage. One of the troopers carried another smaller mesh cage. It was shaped like an oversized fencing helmet, and it fitted over Tungata's head, closing snugly around his throat. From the front of the encompassing helmet protruded a mesh tube that resembled the thickened and shortened trunk of a deformed elephant.
The two troopers stood behind Tungata's chair and forced him forward until the open tube of mesh aligned WIth the door of the adder's cage. Dexterously the Shana doctor clipped the tube of Tungata's helmet and the cage together.
"When the door of the cage is raised, you and the Gaboon will be sharing the same livin space." Tungata stared down the mesh tube to the door at its extremity.
"But we can stop this at any time you say the word."
"Your father was a dung-eating Shana hyena," said Tungata softly.
"We will induce the adder to leave its cage and join you in yours by applying heat to the far wall. I do advise you to be sensible, Comrade. Take us to bid Lobengula's tomb."
"The king's tomb is sacred-" Tungata broke off. He was weaker than he had realized. It had slipped out. Up to now he had stubbornly denied the existence of the tomb.
"Good," said Peter happily. "At least we have now agreed that there is a tomb. Now agree to take us there, and this will all end. A safe flight to another land, for you and the woman--2
"I spit on you, Fungabera, and I spit on the diseased whore that was your mother."
"Open the cage, "ordered Fungabera.
It rattled up in its runners and Tungata stared down the tube as though down the barrel of a rifle. The adder was coiled on the far side of the cage, staring back at him with those bright black eyes.
"There is still time, Comrade."
Tungata did not trust his voice to speak again. He J steeled himself, and stared into the adder's eyes, trying to dominate it.
"Proceed," said Peter, and one of the troopers placed a small charcoal brazier on the table. Tungata could feel the heat from it even where he sat. Slowly the soldier pushed the glowing stove closer to the far mesh of the cage, and the adder hissed explosively and uncoiled its body. To escape the heat, it began to slither towards the opening of the mesh tube.
"Quickly, Comrade," Peter urged him. "Say you will do it. There are only seconds left. I can still close the door." Tungata felt the sweat prickle as it burst out on his forehead and slid down his naked back. He wanted to shout a curse at Peter Fungabera, to consign him to a fate as horrid as this, but his pulse was pounding in his own ears, deafening him.
The adder hesitated at the mouth of the tube, reluctant to enter.
"There is still time," Peter whispered. "You do not deserve such a loathsome death say it? Say you will do id" Tungata had not realized how huge the adder was. Its eyes were only eighteen inches from his, and it hissed again as loudly as a punctured truck tyre, a vast exhalation of air that dinned in his eardrums. The trooper pushed the glowing charcoal brazier hard u against the mesh, and the adder thrust its head into the opening of the tube and its belly scales made a dry rasping sound against the wire.
"It's not too late yet." Peter Fungabera unbuckled the % flap of his holster and drew his pistol. He placed the muzzle against the wire, only inches from the adder's head. "Say the word, and I will blow its head off."
"Damn You to your own stinking Shana hell," whispered Tungata. He could smell the adder now, not a strong odour, a faint mousy sweetness tinged with corruption. It nauseated him. He felt vomit rise and scald the back of his throat. He swallowed it down and began to struggle against the straps that held him. The cage shook with his efforts, but the two troopers h8d his shoulders, and the great adder, alarmed by his movements, hissed again and arched its neck into the "S" of the strike.
Tungata stopped struggling and forced himself to remain still. He could feel his sweat pouring down his body, trickling coldly down his flanks and puddling under him on the seat of his chair.
Gradually the adder uncocked its neck, and crept forward towards his face. Six inches from his eyes, and Tungata sat still as a statue in his own sweat and loathing and horror. It was so close now that he could not focus on it. It was merely a blur that filled all his vision and then the adder shot out its tongue and explored his face with feather-light strokes of the black forked tongue.
Every nerve in Tungata's body was screwed up to snapping point, and his weakened body was overdosed with adrenalin so that he felt he was suffocating. He had to cling to consciousness. with all his remaining strength or he would have slipped over the edge into the black void of oblivion.
The adder moved on slowly. He could feel the cool slippery touch of coils across his cheek, under his ear, around the back of his n%k, and then, in a final orgasm of horror, he realized th4 the huge reptile was throwing coil after coil of its body about his head, enveloping him, covering his mouth and his nose. He dared not scream nor move, and the seconds drew out.
"He likes you," Peter Fungabera's voice had thickened with excitement and anticipation. "He's settling down with you Tungata swivelled his eyes and Peter was on the periphery of his field of vision, blurred by the fine mesh of the cage.