Free The Gods' Gambit by David Lee Marriner

devices.
They were of different nationalities and ages and wore a mix of different types
of clothing. Some wore ironed white aprons, others, baggy jeans and sweaters or
Asian-style caftans. Above their heads was a huge rectangular display divided
into smaller sections – each showing different images and TV programmes. At the
other end of the cave, there was a monumental twenty metre tall stone sculpture
of a horned serpent with widespread wings that dominated the space. It entwined
around a topless pyramid.
    The elevator-platform reached the ground. Its protective barrier
lifted up automatically and the cart slowly moved towards the central parking
area which comprised about twenty rectangular parking bays. Motorbikes, jeeps
or other electric carts occupied some of the bays.
    The driver of the cart turned towards an armed man in the
parking area and said in Russian, “It’s a group exchange time. Make sure the
test rooms are ready.”
    “Yes, Georgie Ivanovich,” said the man and walked away.
    The cart continued ahead. The driver took a device out of
his pocket and pressed some buttons. There followed a metallic sound and then a
well-camouflaged gate in the cave wall slid open. The aperture stood out dark
against the background of the strong luminescent light in the cave, although
weak multicoloured light from some inner source could be seen. The cart slowly
disappeared into this twilight as if it had been swallowed by it.
    Twenty minutes later, it popped back out again, but now it
carried four new passengers, two women and two men, dressed in brown linen
robes like the previous group. Three of them were of mid-Asian ethnicity from
nations that had become autonomous after the Soviet Union crumbled. The fourth
man was Russian. His name was Vitali Sorokin, a one-time psychic of
international repute, famous for his popular interactive TV show on which he
foretold the future and revealed the past. A couple of years ago he had
disappeared from TV screens and his celebrity had long waned. Sorokin and his
fellow travellers seemed distant, distracted. They were all sitting stiffly
with their eyes looking upwards, as if fixed on an invisible object above them.
    The cart stopped in front of a large glass panel, behind
which was a room full of laboratory apparatus and computer equipment. In the
room, there was a metal chair with cables and devices attached to it.
    The driver helped the Russian psychic disembark and then led
him inside the room to sit on the metal chair. He proceeded to position several
semi-flexible tubes a few centimetres away from the psychic’s head, arms and
chest. While he was doing that, a guard jumped in the driving seat of the cart
outside and drove it to a group of lab assistants who waited for the other
passengers.
    The psychic sat passively and appeared unconcerned about the
activity that was taking place around him. The young driver took a wireless
touch-keyboard from the table and tapped his fingers on it. A flow of white gas
emanated from a small plastic tube that pointed at Sorokin’s nose. He inhaled
and seemed to liven up; his eyes sparkled.
    The young man sat on a swivel chair. “Sorokin, how do you
feel? Is everything all right?”
    The psychic cleared his throat and answered in a quiet
voice, “What does it matter, Georgie? You’re going to do what you intend to do
anyway.”
    “Yeah,” drawled Georgie, “but we have to follow procedure.
You’re doing very well. Your work here will soon be over and you can rest
afterwards.”
    “Is there rest for a seer?” The psychic spoke in a low,
faltering voice. It was clear that he didn’t expect his questions to be
answered.
    “You could make trips to any place you want.”
    “I need to see. You know that.”
     “I believe you’ll be fine with a short trip. Why not
go to the Bahamas. I imagine you sitting there on a beach. Lots of girls in
flowered skirts around who’re drinking cocktails with you,” joked Georgie.
    The psychic stared