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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