"Looks great, doesn't it?" a voice said.
I jumped, turned, landed ready for action. The music had covered the sound of his approach. But there appeared to be no threat from the newcomer. He was middle—aged and plump, wearing an expensive business suit and a white lace shirt with a blood—red necktie, and was smiling in the most friendly man—
"You here same as me? Take a look at Valhalla."
"Sure am," I said, relaxing. And taking note that woven into his tie with gold thread was the same crossed axe and hammer that hung above the entrance. "Valhalla here we come…"
"Not yet!" he said quickly, raising his hand. "A look, sure, that's what I'm after. A quick look to see what the afterlife holds. Not quite ready for the real thing quite yet—"
His voice was drowned out by a blasting blare of horns and a tremendous drumroll as the golden door slowly swung open. As the music died away a woman's voice bid us welcome.
"I bid you welcome. Enter, good followers of the League of the Longboat and Life Friends of Freya. Enter and behold that which one day will be yours for eternity. As long as you pay your loyal tithe. Here is Valhalla! The mead—hall at rainbow's end. Come—forward—and don't trip over the snake."
Some snake! It must have been a yard thick and vanished out of sight in both directions. It writhed slowly as we stepped over it.
"Uroboros!" my companion said. "Goes right around the world."
"Be quick," our invisible guide called out. "for you do not have much time. I shall part the veil, but can do this only briefly. Only by special dispensation of the gods is this possible. Thor always smiles upon warriors of the League of the Longboat, and Loki is away in Hell right now, so Thor, in his generosity, permits your presence for a quick peek at that which is yet to come. So look, breathe deep and enjoy for someday, one day; this will be yours
The interior was veiled in darkness which slowly lightened. I stepped forward for a closer look and slammed my nose into an invisible barrier. It went down to the ground, stretched higher than I could reach. My companion rapped it with his knuckles.
"The Wall of Eternity," he said. "Glad it's there. You have to be dead to pass it."
"Thanks. I'll pass on passing. Zowie!"
The exclamation was pulled out of me by the bizarre scene that was suddenly revealed on the other side of the bather. A fire roared in a massive stone fireplace and some entire giant beast was being cooked over it. At long wooden tables lots of big men with long blond hair and beards were really living it up. There was plenty of mad drinking and eating. Great mugs of drink were slopped onto the wooden tables, to be seized up and guzzled down. With one hand, because in the other hand most of the men held steaming meaty bones or the legs of very large birds. Their voices could be dimly heard like distant echoes, shouting and swearing. Some were singing. Great blond waitresses with mighty thews and even mightier busts were passing out the food and drink. An occasional shrill cry cut through the roar of masculine voices as buttocks were clutched; occasionally there was a thud as quick female action slammed a mug into a groper's head. Yet the large ladies laughed and tweaked many a Viking beard with more than a hint of orgies to come. In fact, dimly on a table in the distance, a meaty couple appeared to be doing just that, giggling in distant laughter. Which died away as darkness descended again.
"Isn't that something!" my companion said, eyes staring with admiration.
"Not for a vegetarian," I muttered, but not loud enough to spoil his fun. "I wonder if we belong to the same church?" I asked smarmily.
There was no answer—because he was no longer there. Opportunity missed; I should have been prying information out of him instead of goggling the joys of Valhalla. I went outside, but he really had gone back to wherever he had come from. Behind me the door slammed shut and the glowing jewels stopped glowing.
The show was over—and what had I found out?
"A lot," I reassured myself. "But this is surely not the Heaven as Vivilia VonBrun described it. Valhalla looks like a man's idea of a night out with the boys going on forever. Which means there must be more than one heaven in Heaven. Perhaps she saw the other one, Paradise. Which means I should take a look at it—even if it is closed."
Prodded by this stern look, I retraced my steps to the signboards, turned and followed the path to Paradise. It twisted its way through a thick stand of trees and brush.
Then I stopped as I heard the rumble of a vehicle's engine ahead. Putting caution before boldness I dropped to the ground and crawled forward through the bushes.
Parted the last one and looked out.
Chapter 16
What I was looking at was, or so it appeared, a normal building site that you would find on any planet. Beyond it were some low, temple—like buildings around a decorative lake. Just near me there was the framework of a half—constructed building, very much like the others. Earthmovers were landscaping around it, riggers swinging a steel beam into place. They were human too, not robots, for I heard one of them shout "Bonega—veldu gin nun." Civilized Esperanto speakers talking about welding the structure. It was all so commonplace that I wondered what it was doing in this paradisical corner of Heaven.
Once I get the curiosity itch, I have to scratch. I stayed under the protective bush and watched the action. I wished, not for the first time, that Coypu could find a way for machines to be taken between the universes. I would dearly love to have had a telescope with me to watch the goings—on. And to take a much closer look at each of the working men on the site, if Slakey was one of them I would have to rethink any plans to investigate fuller on the site.
He didn't seem to be working here. All the builders I could see were lean and young. Though there was one older man in a hard hat, a foreman of some kind. Fairly fat—but he bore no resemblance to any of the Slakeys I had seen.
After a good time had passed I realized that it was pretty boring just lurking here in the shrubbery: I suppressed a yawn. I either had to do something positive or get out of there and do some research in the rubbish dump. But before I could make my mind up it was made up for me.
Older—and—Fatter looked at his watch—then blew loudly on his whistle. Everyone downed tools and turned off engines. At first I thought they were quitting for the day, until the roache coache came trundling up. Familiar from a thousand building sites and factory entrances around the galaxy. Filled with frozen food and armed with microwave. Selection of choice, porcuswine cutlets or deep—fried crustacean limbs, buttons pressed, steaming meal delivered.
The laborers lined up, shouting guttural oaths at one another and producing loud, badinage as workers across the galaxy are wont to do, and received their meals as they were extruded from the delivery slots. Some sat down on the beams and boxes that littered the site. Happily a few of them decided to make a picnic out of the meal and strolled up the slope to sprawl on a patch of grass near me. Not near enough to hear what they were saying though, but close enough to start ideas curdling about in my brain. The fat foreman was one of the picnickers, tucking into a steaming and meaty rib that was big enough to have come from a brontosaurus.
I waited a bit, then rose and—strolled towards them, whistling as I went.
"Lovely day, isn't it?" I said ingratiatingly. And was greeted by a sullen silence and surly scowls.