There was still no sign of food. The pause in the labor was only for the
length of time it took the drug-bearing slaves to complete their task.
Ten minutes, or fifteen at the outside; then the overseers were back
with the orders and the lashes.
The slaves regrouped on new jobs, and Hanson found himself in a bunch of
a dozen or so. They were lashing the hauling ropes around a twelve-foot
block of stone; the rollers were already in place, with the crudely
plaited ropes dangling loosely. Hanson found himself being lifted by a
couple of the other slaves to the shoulders of a third. His clawing
hands caught the top of the block and the slaves below heaved him
upward. He scrambled to the top and caught the ropes that were flung up
to him.
From his vantage point he saw what he had not seen before--the amazing
size of the construction project. This was no piffling little Gizeh
pyramid, no simple tomb for a king. Its base was measured in kilometers
instead of yards, and its top was going to be proportionally high,
apparently. It hardly seemed that there could be enough stone in the
whole world to finish the job. As far as Hanson could see, over the
level sand, the ground was black with the suffering millions of slaves
in their labor gangs.
The idiots must be trying to reach the sky with their pyramid. There
could be no other answer to the immense bulk planned for this structure.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87