Timewyrm: Genesis Part 5

"Let them." The king tapped his battle-axe. "I could use the exercise."

Enkidu put his hand on his friend's arm. "Listen to Ea," he urged. "The G.o.d of wisdom has a plan, clearly. And he is right, you know." He gestured at Gilgamesh's biceps. "You know what will happen when you arrive at the city gates? The guards will take one look at you and say: "Who could this be? Such mighty muscles, such a fighting stance - they could belong only to Gilgamesh, King of Men!" " A smile played across the king's lips as he imagined the scene. "There is truth in what you say," he conceded. Then he looked at the garments again, and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "But to wear the rags of a common peasant - Enkidu, it offends my dignity."

Ace had had more than enough of this posturing. The Doctor rarely saw the need for them to wear local clothing, but he had insisted in this case. She had already been forced to don a cloak, and a winding cloth to cover her long hair. If she was stuck with it, then she saw no reason why Gilgamesh shouldn't suffer likewise. "Besides," she told him, "all good spies wear disguises. It's a mark of their cunning and skill."

"Really?" he asked. She could see he was beginning to warm to the idea.

Vanity was clearly his biggest weakness. That and his tendency to try to touch her up whenever they were close.

"Yeah," she a.s.sured him. "James Bond, John Steed, Mickey Mouse - they're all doing it."

Gilgamesh mulled over the names, unwilling to admit that he'd never heard of them. "Shamash Bond?" he echoed. Well, if an aspect of the glorious sun G.o.d Shamash could wear a disguise, who was he to complain? "Very well," he told the Doctor. "I will wear the clothing."

"Great," Ace said, grinning. "I'll bet you look a lot better than Mickey Mouse."

The Doctor scowled at her as he helped Gilgamesh get ready. "Enjoy your little jokes while you can," he muttered to her.

Blithely, she smiled back. "I will," she a.s.sured him. She was quietly transferring cans of nitro-nine to the pockets of her jacket. The Doctor had insisted that she leave her bag behind, not wis.h.i.+ng to have her transporting explosives into the city. She was equally unwilling to go on without them, and saw no need to mention that her bag was empty as she threw it into the TARDIS.

Finally, even Gilgamesh was ready. The Doctor had raided the TARDIS's wardrobes for all the clothing that would pa.s.s muster in Mesopotamia.

They looked a little odd, but he was certain that the city guards would let them through, taking them for simple tradesmen. At least, he added to himself, they would if it proved possible to keep Gilgamesh in line.

"Right," he said, with as much enthusiasm as he could summon, "time to be off. Now, remember, let me do the talking."

"It'll be impossible to stop you," Ace muttered, falling in step behind him.

Swinging his brolly, the Doctor flashed her a look but said nothing. Enkidu fell into step beside Ace, and Gilgamesh somewhat reluctantly brought up the rear. He had agreed to hold his position because Enkidu had managed to convince him that he would be able to get a better swing from there if a fight broke out.

Ace studied Enkidu with undisguised interest. He reminded her uncannily of Nimrod... Her mind flashed back to the terrifying experiences she had had in nineteenth-century Perivale, in the haunted house called Gabriel Chase.

The Victorian mansion had been the disguised home of the strange, alien ent.i.ty known as Light, collector and cataloguer of species. Light had selected Nimrod as his representative of Neanderthal Man. And now, here she was, walking alongside another member of the supposedly extinct species. Rumours of their death, she thought to herself, were clearly exaggerated.

Enkidu caught her gaze, and misinterpreted it. "I'm sorry if my appearance offends you, lady."

Snorting, Ace a.s.sured him: "It doesn't worry me, chum. I was just thinking about an old mate of mine you remind me of."

"Mate?" he echoed. "Ah! You took one of my kind as a lover once in the past?" Flus.h.i.+ng, Ace shook her head. "No, I meant mate as in friend. It's a sort of - um - affectionate term."

"Oh. Pardon my ignorance of the heavenly languages." Enkidu smiled, his canine teeth flas.h.i.+ng slightly. "You do not find me repulsive, then?" Ace grinned. "Compared to some people I've met, you're positively gorgeous,"

she a.s.sured him. This Enkidu was all right.

A regular guy. Nodding her head backwards, she added: "On the other hand, Gilgamesh is a right royal pain in the a.r.s.e. How do you put up with him?" Enkidu looked shocked. "He is my master. It's not a question of putting up with him. I am honour bound to do whatever he wishes me to do." Then, breaking the mood, he added: "But, as you suggest, he is a trifle overbearing at times." He considered for a moment, "But he is a good king, and he makes Uruk strong. And if he is at times a little rough, well - that's just his manner."

"Lack of manners, I call it," Ace said, ruefully. "Has he always had trouble with wandering hands?" Enkidu smiled. "I gather he has quite a reputation among the n.o.blewomen of Uruk. I take it you do not like his attentions?" He glanced at the Doctor's back. "Perhaps you are already spoken for?"

Following his gaze Ace laughed, and shook her head. "Not by him," she a.s.sured the Neanderthal. "We're just travelling companions. And sometimes we're even friends. But that's all." She eyed him mischievously.

"We're not even of the same species."

"Ah." Though he obviously couldn't follow this, Enkidu politely didn't probe.

"Then why do you travel with him?" Ace shrugged. "Life's always exciting with him. And he generally fights for what both of us believe in."

"Much the same reasons I stay with Gilgamesh, then," he told her. "We are very alike." He held up a hairy hand. "Despite our obvious differences."

"When you've quite finished socializing, Ace," the Doctor broke in, loudly, "take a look at those." He gestured with his umbrella towards the walls of Kish. Standing almost twenty feet tall, and built of heavy stone, they stretched about the city. The tops of the walls were wide enough for four men to march abreast about the entire town. Guard towers rose from the battlements at regular intervals. There were several gates visible, each of them guarded by armed men.

"Wicked," Ace said. "Could be a problem getting in."

"Is that all you can see?" he asked.

She shrugged. "That, and the copper strips they're putting all over the place." It was impossible to miss the gleam of the orange-coloured metal in the slowly dying sunlight.

"What do they teach youngsters in school nowadays?" the Doctor sighed.

"School?" Gilgamesh rumbled. "What's that?" "A divine inst.i.tution," the Doctor informed him, "to give young people knowledge and instruction in life."

"Right," Ace said, sarcastically. "Positively heavenly. And it's centuries since you were in one, Professor."

Ignoring the jibe, the Doctor asked her: "And what colour is copper?"

Chemistry was one of her specialities. There was plenty of scope for doing interesting things - like blowing up schools... "Orange," she answered.

Then, remembering the copper-topped domes of the London skyline, she added: "Except when you leave it out in the rain. Then it oxidizes green..."

Her voice trailed away as she realized what the Doctor was getting at. The copper on the walls of Kish was brightly-polished. "Well, maybe it doesn't rain much in Mesopotamia?" "I'm sure it doesn't," he agreed. "But the use of non-tarnis.h.i.+ng copper is out of line with this civilization, Ace. They have to alloy it into bronze to stop corrosion."

Staring at the walls, Ace felt a chill pa.s.s through her. "Then what's that stuff doing there?" "It's what it's not doing that worries me. It's not corroding..."

He tapped the side of his nose with his umbrella. "There's something fishy in Kish." Then he grinned. "Spying tonight!" he announced, and led the way towards the main gate.

7: TALKING UNION.

"Escaped?" hissed Ishtar, furiously. "Escaped? You call that a report?" The terrified captain of the guards shook his head - the rest of his body was shaking without any conscious effort on his part. "There was. . . " he began, hardly knowing what to say. "We almost had Gilgamesh, but then something happened..."

Ishtar seemed to slide towards him from the depths of her sanctum, her pale skin s.h.i.+mmering in the gloom that she preferred. "What happened,"

she whispered dangerously, "is that you were incompetent fools, and you failed me!" "No!" the guardsman insisted. "There was some kind of divine intervention that saved him!" "Then you had better pray for some divine intervention of your own," Ishtar warned him. "I will not tolerate fools and failure!" "I swear it!" the unfortunate man cried, then screamed as Ishtar's hands gripped his head. He could see nothing but the silver sheen of her flesh as he felt his neck begin to twist. "Mercy!" he croaked.

"This is mercy," she hissed in his ear. "Had I the time, then you would die much more painfully..." The pleasing sound of the snapping of bones made her smile, and the man ceased struggling.

She released the corpse, and let it fall to the stone floor. Paying it no more attention, she glared at Dumuzi. "My priest," she purred, "he was a poor choice for the mission. Perhaps Agga deliberately chose him, knowing that he would fail and thus anger me?" Dumuzi, gathering what individual thoughts he still retained, shook his head. "No, G.o.ddess, I doubt it. Would he run the risk of angering you? Especially with your threat against his daughter so fresh in his mind?" "True," Ishtar said. "Then why was Gilgamesh not captured?" "You do not believe that there may have been some deity that intervened on his behalf?" Dumuzi asked.

"Superst.i.tious nonsense!" Ishtar laughed. "You and I both know better than to believe in G.o.ds, don't we, Dumuzi?" Knowing little now that she did not allow him to think, Dumuzi did not reply. He forbore to give the obvious reply that she herself was proof of divine intervention. But Ishtar caught the scent of this thought, anyway, and whirled about to face him down.

"You think that another like myself might be here, Dumuzi?" she said. "Ah - I see in the dim, dark closets of your mind that you pray that someone might come to free you from me! How delightful! Despite my restraints, there is still a portion of your tiny brain where you possess a touch of individuality. No matter. When it suits me, I shall seek it out and devour it.

Until then, let it hide and fear." She wrapped an arm about Dumuzi's shoulder. "It pleases me to enlighten you, my priest. I am not a G.o.ddess, such as you think of the term. I was once as human as you are, and as frail." She tapped her beautiful features and enjoyed the strange bell-like sound that rang out. "Behind this mask lies a mind that once knew the pleasures and follies and pains of flesh. But then I discovered the potential of cybernetics, Dumuzi, and now I am no longer prey to the ills and sorrows of the flesh. Nor am I limited by the shackles of one form or one mind.

"I was born centuries ago on a world that lies half a universe from this tiny planet. And I became its queen - its G.o.ddess. But there were some that refused my Touch, and who fought against me. In the end, I had to flee."

She glanced sharply up at him. "Fool! I could see that thought as clearly as if you had shouted it from the roof tops. If they could make me flee, you dare to hope that they could come here, seeking me out?" She laughed, scornfully. "I am not one to leave enemies in my wake, Dumuzi. When I fled that wretched planet, they discovered what it is to scorn my power." With a cruel curl to her lips, she bent to stare into his eyes. "I left behind only the smoking embers of a planet, priest. A burnt-out, lifeless hunk of a world. Do not even dream of freedom from me. If such a thing is even possible, then when I leave this world of yours, it will be as a void and a devastation behind me. I would wipe out every last insect from the surface of this planet sooner than allow anyone - anyone - to think that they could best me!"

Turning slowly away again, she began to glide back into the darkness.

Over her shoulder, she called: "If you wish to pray, Dumuzi, then pray that nothing angers me. Because if it does, then I shall destroy the human race utterly from the face of the Earth."

There came a quiet rapping at the door to Ninani's room. The princess glanced up, and called: "Come!" The door opened, and Puabi ushered in a young girl, barely as old as the princess herself. "My niece," she explained.

It was more than apparent that En-Gula was one of the votaries of Ishtar.

She was well-formed and pretty, with dark eyes and short-cropped dark hair that fell only to the base of her neck. Her bronzed skin shone from the oils that were used to keep her body pure. Apart from her sandals, and the band about her forehead that bore the insignia of Ishtar, she wore only a simple skirt. Her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s marked her clearly as one of the priestesses of the G.o.ddess of love. As she entered the room, she slid quietly and simply into a kneeling position before Ninani, and bowed to the floor.

"Rise," the princess commanded, studying the other girl as she obeyed.

Though she was clearly aware of her inferior rank, the girl seemed at ease and confident. "Are you not curious as to why I wanted to speak with you, child?" En-Gula stared back, clearly studying the princess in her turn. Then she glanced back at her aunt, and moved one eyebrow slightly. "Your maidservant seemed to think that you were interested in my knowledge, highness."

"My maidservant had better mind her own business, then," Ninani answered. "And while she is about it, she can fetch us a little wine." Puabi took the hint and vanished. Rising to her feet, Ninani circled the acolyte, examining her carefully for the Mark of Ishtar. Her father always did this, she knew, and he had explained that all who were Touched by Ishtar bore her Mark on their bodies somewhere - generally on their brow or temples.

En-Gula seemed free from all bodily blemishes, which was, after all, one of the requirements of any who wished to serve Ishtar in a physical role. Her body must be free from any imperfection, as such blemishes would nullify the offering of herself.

Having circled the girl, Ninani sat down again. "How old are you, child?"

she asked.

"Thirteen," En-Gula replied, carefully.

"And how long have you been in the service of Ishtar?" "Since I was seven." Seeing the surprise in Ninani's eyes, she added: "My mother died at that time, and I was taken as a child into the temple. I became one of the priestesses only a year ago. Until then, I helped to clean, and to look after the other priestesses."

Wistfully, Ninani murmured: "You must have seen a lot of life, child."

Shrugging, En-Gula sniffed. "I should think that you see as much as 1, princess. You are captive within the palace, I within the temple."

An unexpected answer, and Ninani realized that this girl was no fool. "You do not like your life?" "Who am I to complain?" Despite her words, it was quite clear that En-Gula was complaining. "I am an orphan, and have been given a steady job, and a good home."

"But?" the princess prompted.

Abruptly, En-Gula laughed. "My lady, you didn't bring me here to hear the temple gossip."

The door opened, and Puabi backed in, carrying a tray. On it were a silver pitcher and two goblets - one silver, one bronze. Ninani held her tongue as Puabi filled the silver goblet with the dark wine and pa.s.sed it to her. The maid then filled the bronze cup, and gave it to En-Gula. When she looked up again, Ninani gestured at the door.

"What!" Puabi snorted. "Am I to fetch my niece and not learn why?" "Yes,"

Ninani replied. "You are. Now, go." Meekly, Puabi left. Glancing back at the other girl. Ninani saw a flash of a smile in her eyes. "If you know your aunt at all," she explained, "then you know of her astounding capacity for carrying gossip. I would like as little as possible of that to be about me."

"Wise, princess," En-Gula agreed. "But may I learn why you sent for me?"

Ninani sipped her wine, and gazed evenly at the other girl. Now that the princess had drunk, the priestess was free to do likewise, and did. Etiquette and social order was rigid, and always obeyed.

"En-Gula," Ninani said, slowly, "you were wrong when you said that I did not want to hear the temple gossip. That is exactly what I wish to hear."

The priestess shrugged. "Lady, if you really want to hear about who drinks too much, and who is sleeping with which n.o.bleman, then I could tell you.

Forgive me, though - but it seems beneath your dignity."

Sniffing, Ninani nodded. "And so it is. The antics of your brood of harlots do not interest me at all. It is Ishtar I wish to know about."

The girl stiffened at this. "You require religious instruction?" she asked, carefully. "My lady, I do not think that it would be fitting for you to serve in the beds of the temple - unless you wished it, of course!" Then another thought occurred to her. "Or..." She glanced at the door leading to the bedroom at the far end of the room. "Am I here to serve in your bed?"

Ninani sighed. "Does everyone in your family think of nothing but s.e.x?" she chided. "I am not interested in becoming one of Ishtar's wh.o.r.es, En-Gula.

Nor did I call you here to seduce you. I want to know about the G.o.ddess Ishtar herself!" Getting to her feet again, she started to pace the room. "I know what has been told me by my father," she explained. "That the G.o.ddess has condescended to visit with us a while. What I do not understand is why the thought should terrify him so. Nor do I understand what is happening in the temple. I've known Dumuzi for years, but of late he's not been the man I grew up with. I want to know why," She stared at En-Gula. "Can you help me?" The priestess warily put down her cup. It was obvious that she was fighting back some urge to speak, one that eventually got the better of her. "My lady," she said, carefully. "This may cause some offence, but may I first ask a favour of you?" Ninani shrugged. "Speak."

"May I touch your skin for a moment?" Puzzled, Ninani nodded. En-Gula came in close, and then brushed the long hair from the princess's brow.

Sighing with relief, she allowed the hair to fall back. "I am sorry, lady," she replied, "but I had to be certain that you had not been Touched. To speak freely with one who had the Touch of Ishtar would have meant my death - or worse."

This was beginning to sound like the start of a productive conversation.

Curious, Ninani listened as the priestess talked.

"When the G.o.ddess came among us," En-Gula explained, "she was not strong. Dumuzi told us all that she had been on a long journey, down to the world below the stars and heavens above. He said that she needed to rest, and to regain her energy. Then she would be herself. Well, it made sense, of sorts - about as much sense as anything that the G.o.ds ever do. So we carried on, honoured by her visit and waited."

"Then several of the older priestesses vanished. There was no explanation for this given us. And a few of the others changed. They had all received the Touch of Ishtar. Now they served as her eyes and ears, and she learned all that they knew. If anyone spoke in their presence against the G.o.ddess . . . Well, they tended to vanish, or else they, too, bore the Touch, and changed."

"Finally, my curiosity got the better of me." She shrugged. "It's a curse I suffer from, lady. A family trait, I suspect. I wish to know too much."

"The both of us," Ninani replied, liking this girl. "Speak on."

"The G.o.ddess had taken over several of the larger rooms. I had been a cleaner, as I mentioned, and I know a few less obvious ways into these rooms." She didn't clarify. The princess would have no interest in the times she had been hungry, and sought food wherever she could steal it within the temple.

"I had seen the G.o.ddess, of course - she would come out into the aisles of the temple from time to time, to be seen by her wors.h.i.+ppers. But I had never been summoned into her private rooms.

"One evening I heard strange noises coming from behind the main altar, where Ishtar's sanctum lies. I used my knowledge of the secret ways of the temple. The innermost of Ishtar's rooms has a balcony around it, and I crept into it. The noise was coming from below me: a humming noise, but rising and falling, like bees buzzing in a rhythm. And there was a strange silver glow that flared and faded with the humming. It was dark in the shadows on the balcony, and I was scared. But I had to look over the edge, I had to see." She shuddered, and lifted her wide, dark eyes to stare at Ninani. "I wish I hadn't looked, lady.

"The G.o.ddess was there. She was as beautiful as ever, tall and pale and glorious. But she seemed to be dead. She was completely still. She was standing against the wall, in the one place where the wall was not covered by the tall metal cabinets that the G.o.ddess had had brought down from her buried ziggurat in the wilderness. The s.p.a.ce she was standing in looked like a sarcophagus, lady - my heart went out to Ishtar then. Her head was covered by a metal hood, and the hood was the source of the humming.

She was naked, and I saw that although she has a woman's shape, she is not made as a woman is made. All these things I saw in just a few moments, and then the G.o.ddess moved. She stepped from beneath the hood like a body stepping out of its grave. Her eyes opened, and I ducked into the shadows."

"It sounds terrifying," Ninani said, imagining the punishments for spying on a G.o.ddess.