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.And yet there undoubtedly must be a certain kind of horrible peace in renouncing free-will, as the vast majority of human-kind is ready to do so, only needing to be asked by the right apostle.Nachtman drove those disciples on with fiery words, kicks; hot exhalations of his stinking, liquor tainted breath, the pressure of his knuckle-studded fists.His voice, through almost constant yelling, grew hoarse and he seemed to be digging his words up from the depths of some horrible cave which respired sulphur and spat flames.Dr.Enheim seemed determined to set an example and often arrived to lend his two hands to the great task.His labours were almost biblical in proportion.Stripped to the waist, sweat streaming down his face, he pushed along blocks of marble, with great burdens on his back climbed up the dizzying scaffolding like a baboon.“If all of our workers were like him, the place would have been finished long ago,” Nachtman commented.He himself would not even pick up a hammer.“Physical labour will drain my mental abilities,” he said.“And God knows we need them.”XVI.Aside from the work forces previously mentioned, there was another, an elite group called the Company of Good Men—a group hand-picked by Nachtman from the largest and most durable of the male devotees.Rivers of tendons and mountains of muscle.There was a fellow from Iceland with scant blond hair and a forlorn gaze who could pull along a tractor with his teeth and a pair of brothers from Pakistan with huge biceps who were able to play catch with enormous boulders.Men of maximised muscle.Men with predatory jaws.Columbians who could bend iron bars with their hands and Ukrainians who could jog about with 150 kg barrels under each arm.Nachtman took these specimens, these already Herculean young men, and injected them daily with extract of dog testicles and anabolic steroids and kept them fed on abundant quantities of beef, chickens and baby food.These men, who could each do the work of fifty, were the pride of the work site and seemed to vie with one another for performing incredible tasks.They dragged huge carts of gravel, were able to pound in nails with their bare palms, break up rock with their fists, and scale slick walls without the need of scaffolding or ropes.Their huge arms flung about blocks of stone, pulled them to the heights with pulleys and they worked almost without rest.The architect took special care to make them his own, having them swear by secret oaths and their duties certainly went beyond that of mere workers, as they stood by ready to champion his cause, and even give their lives if need be.“Master,” Sergei from Russia said, “I am hungry.”“Ah, you boys eat so much.But I need to keep you healthy.A truckload of sheep has just come in for you and Pedro to unload.”And as the flowers of May shoved themselves up from the ground, those huge men shoved barely cooked and even raw flesh into their mouths, ravenously chewed on mutton.XVII.When Trudy visited the site, she was inevitably drawn to Peter.Their ages were similar.The one was the daughter of Dr.Herman Enheim, the other the nephew of Maria Venezuela.And they were both enthusiastic about this great undertaking.She always had a dozen questions regarding the project to ask him, and he was more than happy to have someone to listen to his voice.And, gazing at her through his glasses, thrusting his long nose forward, he would wax eloquent, pouring forth his bizarre dreams of a future in which architecture was realised for what it was, the greatest of all arts, and nature was done away with, replaced entirely by buildings, cities—forests supplanted by well-planned gardens and oceans spanned by bridges.She in turn, in a very quiet voice, casting shy gazes about, spoke enthusiastically about the Society, and about its great work, marching forward into a new spiritual age.She seemed to view things according to their transcendental qualities and her speech was always modified according to esoteric principles.“Finally there will be a place where truth-seekers from all over the world can meet and learn in peace.This is true evolution.We will all be able to work together on a trans-dimensional level.”“You seem to know a great deal about the Philosophy,” Peter commented.She blushed.“Yes, I try to put the etheric currents in my body to good use.”The young man, murmuring his approval, cast his eyes over her plump arms.“And Herr Nachtman is fortunate to have you as his assistant, Peter.”“I am the one who is fortunate.”XVIII.The power Nachtman had been given increased his personal sense of virility, to the joy of Maria, who worshipped, had indeed fallen deeply in love with him.She saw sunsets, white banks of clouds and green forests in his grotesque face.For her, the bark of his voice was as sweet as the song of birds and she wished to clothe him in pleasures.Tenderly she caressed the rough rind of his skin, joyfully offering him her most intimate treasures—her beryls and amber, her amethyst and topaz—performing nude snake dances before him, while to her right and left censors spilled out the smoke of spikenard and dried roses.The psychology of love is infinitely complex;—female beetles are attracted to the ugliest males;—woman, primordial, is often suicidally drawn to the sharp horns and lances of the male and casts herself onto his personality like one hurling themselves from a cliff.A swirling sky; some cold and clumsy planet attracting a silvery moon.Black holes that gorge themselves on female energies and spit out nothing in return—the primitive writhing of the worm as it digs into some geological crack.So Nachtman took her love as a matter of course
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