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　　Mick　wanted　to　bury　the　car…thief；　somewhere　on　the　edge　of　the　forest。　Judd；　however；　pointed　out　that　burying　a　body　might　seem；　in　tomorrow's　saner　light；　a　little　suspicious。　And　besides；　wasn't　it　absurd　to　concern　themselves　with　one　corpse　when　there　were　literally　thousands　of　them　lying　a　few　miles　from　where　they　stood？
　　The　body　was　left　to　lie；　therefore；　and　the　car　to　sink　deeper　into　the　ditch。
　　They　began　to　walk　again。
　　It　was　cold；　and　colder　by　the　moment；　and　they　were　hungry。　But　the　few　houses　they　passed　were　all　deserted；　locked　and　shuttered；　every　one。
　　〃What　did　he　mean？〃　said　Mick；　as　they　stood　looking　at　another　locked　door。
　　〃He　was　talking　metaphor…；　〃All　that　stuff　about　giants？〃
　　〃It　was　some　Trotskyist　tripe…〃　Judd　insisted。
　　〃I　don't　think　so。〃
　　〃I　know　so。　It　was　his　deathbed　speech；　he'd　probably　been　preparing　for　years。〃
　　〃I　don't　think　so；〃　Mick　said　again；　and　began　walking　back　towards　the　road。
　　〃Oh；　how's　that？〃　Judd　was　at　his　back。
　　〃He　wasn't　toeing　some　party　line。〃
　　〃Are　you　saying　you　think　there's　some　giant　around　here　someplace？　For　God's　sake！〃　Mick　turned　to　Judd。　His　face　was　difficult　to　see　the　twilight。　But　his　voice　was　sober　with　belief。
　　〃Yes。　I　think　he　was　telling　the　truth。〃
　　〃That's　absurd。　That's　ridiculous。　No。〃　Judd　hated　Mick　that　moment。　Hated　his　naiveté；　his　passion　to　believe　any　half…witted　story　if　it　had　a　whiff　of　romance　about　it。　And　this？　This　was　the　worst；　the　most　preposterous　。
　　〃No；〃　he　said　again。　〃No。　No。　No。〃　The　sky　was　porcelain　smooth；　and　the　outline　of　the　hills　black　as　pitch。
　　〃I'm　fucking　freezing；〃　said　Mick　out　of　the　ink。　〃Are　you　staying　here　or　walking　with　me？〃　Judd　shouted：　〃We're　not　going　to　find　anything　this　way。〃
　　〃Well　it's　a　long　way　back。〃
　　〃We're　just　going　deeper　into　the　hills。〃
　　〃Do　what　you　like…I'm　walking。〃　His　footsteps　receded：　the　dark　encased　him。　After　a　minute；　Judd　followed。
　　
　　The　night　was　cloudless　and　bitter。　They　walked　on；　their　collars　up　against　the　chill；　their　feet　swollen　in　their　shoes。　Above　them　the　whole　sky　had　bee　a　parade　of　stars。　A　triumph　of　spilled　light；　from　which　the　eye　could　make　as　many　patterns　as　it　had　patience　for。　After　a　while；　they　slung　their　tired　arms　around　each　other；　for　fort　and　warmth。
　　About　eleven　o'clock；　they　saw　the　glow　of　a　window　in　the　distance。
　　The　woman　at　the　door　of　the　stone　cottage　didn't　smile；　but　she　understood　their　condition；　and　let　them　in。　There　seemed　to　be　no　purpose　in　trying　to　explain　to　either　the　woman　or　her　crippled　husband　what　they　had　seen。　The　cottage　had　no　telephone；　and　there　was　no　sign　of　a　vehicle；　so　even　had　they　found　some　way　to　express　themselves；　nothing　could　be　done。
　　With　mimes　and　face…pullings　they　explained　that　they　were　hungry　and　exhausted。　They　tried　further　to　explain　they　were　lost；　cursing　themselves　for　leaving　their　phrase…book　in　the　VW。　She　didn't　seem　to　understand　very　much　of　what　they　said；　but　sat　them　down　beside　a　blazing　fire　and　put　a　pan　of　food　on　the　stove　to　heat。
　　They　ate　thick　unsalted　pea　soup　and　eggs；　and　occasionally　smiled　their　thanks　at　the　woman。　Her　husband　sat　beside　the　fire；　making　no　attempt　to　talk；　or　even　look　at　the　visitors。
　　The　food　was　good。　It　buoyed　their　spirits。
　　They　would　sleep　until　morning　and　then　begin　the　long　trek　back。　By　dawn　the　bodies　in　the　field　would　be　being　quantified；　identified；　parcelled　up　and　dispatched　to　their　families。　The　air　would　be　full　of　reassuring　noises；　cancelling　out　the　moans　that　still　rang　in　their　ears。　There　would　be　helicopters；　lorry　loads　of　men　organizing　the　clearing…up　operations。　All　the　rites　and　paraphernalia　of　a　civilized　disaster。
　　And　in　a　while；　it　would　be　palatable。　It　would　bee　part　of　their　history：　a　tragedy；　of　course；　but　one　they　could　explain；　classify　and　learn　to　live　with。　All　would　be　well；　yes；　all　would　be　well。　e　morning。
　　The　sleep　of　sheer　fatigue　came　on　them　suddenly。　They　lay　where　they　had　fallen；　still　sitting　at　the　table；　their　heads　on　their　crossed　arms。　A　litter　of　empty　bowls　and　bread　crusts　surrounded　them。
　　They　knew　nothing。　Dreamt　nothing。　Felt　nothing。
　　Then　the　thunder　began。
　　In　the　earth；　in　the　deep　earth；　a　rhythmical　tread；　as　of　a　titan；　that　came；　by　degrees；　closer　and　closer。
　　The　woman　woke　her　husband。　She　blew　out　the　lamp　and　went　to　the　door。　The　night　sky　was　luminous　with　stars：　the　hills　black　on　every　side。
　　The　thunder　still　sounded：　a　full　half　minute　between　every　boom；　but　louder　now。　And　louder　with　every　new　step。
　　They　stood　at　the　door　together；　husband　and　wife；　and　listened　to　the　night…hills　echo　back　and　forth　with　the　sound。　There　was　no　lightning　to　acpany　the　thunder。
　　Just　the　boom…Boom…Boom…It　made　the　ground　shake：　it　threw　dust　down　from　the　door…lintel；　and　rattled　the　window…latches。
　　Boom…Boom…They　didn't　know　what　approached；　but　whatever　shape　it　took；　and　whatever　it　intended；　there　seemed　no　sense　in　running　from　it。　Where　they　stood；　in　the　pitiful　shelter　of　their　cottage；　was　as　safe　as　any　nook　of　the　forest。　How　could　they　choose；　out　of　a　hundred　thousand　trees；　which　would　be　standing　when　the　thunder　had　passed？　Better　to　wait：　and　watch。
　　The　wife's　eyes　were　not　good；　and　she　doubted　what　she　saw　when　the　blackness　of　the　hill　changed　shape　and　reared　up　to　block　the　stars。　But　her　husband　had　seen　it　too：　the　unimaginably　huge　head；　vaster　in　the　deceiving　darkness；　looming　up　and　up；　dwarfing　the　hills　themselves　with　its　ambition。
　　He　fell　to　his　knees；　babbling　a　prayer；　his　arthritic　legs　twisted　beneath　him。
　　His　wife　screamed：　no　words　she　knew　could　keep　this　monster　at　bay…no　prayer；　no　plea；　had　power　over　it。
　　In　the　cottage；　Mick　woke　and　his　outstretched　arm；　twitching　with　a　sudden　cramp；　wiped　the　plate　and　the　lamp　off　the　table。
　　They　smashed。
　　Judd　woke。
　　The　screaming　outside　had　stopped。　The　woman　had　disappeared　from　the　doorway　into　the　forest。　Any　tree；　any　tree　at　all；　was　better　than　this　sight。　Her　husband　still　let　a　string　of　prayers　dribble　from　his　slack　mouth；　as　the　great　leg　of　the　giant　rose　to　take　another　step…Boom…The　cottage　shook。　Plates　danced　and　smashed　off　the　dresser。　A　clay　pipe　rolled　from　the　mantelpiece　and　shattered　in　the　ashes　of　the　hearth。
　　The　lovers　knew　the　noise　that　sounded　in　their　substance：　that　earth…thunder。
　　Mick　reached　for　Judd；　and　took　him　by　the　shoulder。
　　〃You　see；〃　he　said；　his　teeth　blue…grey　in　the　darkness　of　the　cottage。　〃See？　See？〃　There　was　a　kind　of　hysteria　bubbling　behind　his　words。　He　ran　to　the　door；　stumbling　over　a　chair　in　the　dark。　Cursing　and　bruised　he　staggered　out　into　the　night…Boom…The　thunder　was　deafening。　This　time　it　broke　all　the　windows　in　the　cottage。　In　the　bedroom　one　of　the　roof…joists　cracked　and　flung　debris　downstairs。
　　Judd　joined　his　lover　at　the　door。　The　old　man　was　now　face　down　on　the　ground；　his　sick　and　swollen　fingers　curled；　his　begging　lips　pressed　to　the　damp　soil。
　　Mick　was　looking　up；　towards　the　sky。　Judd　followed　his　gaze。
　　There　was　a　place　that　showed　no　stars。　It　was　a　darkness　in　the　shape　of　a　man；　a　vast；　broad　human　frame；　a　colossus　that　soared　up　to　meet　heaven。　It　was　not　quite　a　perfect　giant。　Its　outline　was　not　tidy；　it　seethed　and　swarmed。
　　He　seemed　broader　too；　this　giant；　than　any　real　man。　His　legs　were　abnormally　thick　and　stumpy；　and　his　arms　were　not　long。　The　hands；　as　they　clenched　and　unclenched；　seemed　oddly…jointed　and　over…delicate　for　its　torso。
　　Then　it　raised　one　huge；　flat　foot　and　placed　it　on　the　earth；　taking　a　stride　towards　them。
　　Boom…The　step　brought　the　roof　collapsing　in　on　the　cottage。
　　Everything　that　the　car…thief　had　said　was　true。　Popolac　was　a　city　and　a　giant；　and　it　had　gone　into　the　hills。
　　Now　their　eyes　were　being　accustomed　to　the　night　light。
　　They　could　see　in　ever　more　horrible　detail　the　way　this　monster　was　constructed。　It　was　a　masterpiece　of　human　engineering：　a　man　made　entirely　of　men。　Or　rather；　a　sexless　giant；　made　of　men　and　women　and　children。　All　the　citizens　of　Popolac　writhed　and　strained　in　the　body　of　this　flesh…knitted　giant；　their　muscles　stretched　to　breaking　point；　their　bones　close　to　snapping。
　　They　could　see　how　the　architects　of　Popolac　had　subtly　altered　the　proportions　of　the　human　body；　how　the　thing　had　been　made　squatter　to　lower　its　centre　of　gravity；　how　its　legs　had　been　made　elephantine　to　bear　the　weight　of　the　torso；　how　the　head　was　sunk　low　on　to　the　wide　shoulders；　so　that　the　problems　of　a　weak　neck　had　been　minimized。
　　Despite　these　malformations；　it　was　horribly　life…like。　The　bodies　that　were　bound　together　to　make　its　surface　were　naked　but　for　their　harnesses；　so　that　its　surface　glistened　in　the　starlight；　like　one　vast　human　torso。　Even　the　muscles　were　well　copied；　though　simplified。　They　could　see　the　way　the　roped　bodies　pushed　and　pulled　against　each　other　in　solid　cords　of　flesh　and　bone。　They　could　see　the　intertwined　people　that　made　up　the　body：　the　backs　like　turtles　packed　together　to　offer　the　sweep　of　the　pectorals；　the　lashed　and　knotted　acrobats　at　the　joints　of　the　arms　and　the　legs　alike；　rolling　and　unwinding　to　articulate　the　city。
　　But　surely　the　most　amazing　sight　of　all　was　the　face。
　　Cheeks　of　bodies；　cavernous　eye…sockets　in　which　heads　stared；　five　bound　together　for　each　eyeball；　a　broad；　flat　nose　and　a　mouth　that　opened　and　closed；　as　the　muscles　of　the　jaw　bunched　and　hollowed　rhythmically。　And　from　that　mouth；　lined　with　teeth　of　bald　children；　the　voice　of　the　giant；　now　only　a　weak　copy　of　its　former　powers；　spoke　a　single　note　of　idiot　music。
　　Popolac　walked　and　Popolac　sang。
　　Was　there　ever　a　sight　in　Europe　the　equal　of　it？
　　They　watched；　Mick　and　Judd；　as　it　took　another　step　towards　them。
　　The　old　man　had　wet　his　pants。　Blubbering　and　begging；　he　dragged　himself　away　from　the　ruined　cottage　into　the　surrounding　trees；　dragging　his　dead　legs　after　him。
　　The　Englishmen　remained　where　they　stood；　watching　the　spectacle　as　it　approached。　Neither　dread　nor　horror　touched　them　now；　just　an　awe　that　rooted　them　to　the　spot。　They　knew　this　was　a　sight　they　could　never　hope　to　see　again；　this　was　the　apex…after　this　there　was　only　mon　experience。　Better　to　stay　then；　though　every　step　brought　death　nearer；　better　to　stay　and　see　the　sight　while　it　was　still　there　to　be　seen。　And　if　it　killed　them；　this　monster；　then　at　least　they　would　have　glimpsed　a　miracle；　known　this　terrible　majesty　for　a　brief　moment。　It　seemed　a　fair　exchange。
　　Popolac　was　within　two　steps　of　the　cottage。　They　could　see　the　plexities　of　its　structure　quite　clearly。　The　faces　of　the　citizens　were　being　detailed：　white；　sweat…wet；　and　content　in　their　weariness。　Some　hung　dead　from　their　harnesses；　their　legs　swinging　back　and　forth　like　the　hanged。　Others；　children　particularly；　had　ceased　to　obey　their　training；　and　had　relaxed　their　positions；　so　that　the　form　of　the　body　was　degenerating；　beginning　to　seethe　with　the　boils　of　rebellious　cells。