“Your kind is lucky to have survived, quite frankly,” Kelel said. “The scale of the war was immense and the destruction would be incomprehensible to you now. Entire cities, entire civilizations, were extinguished in mere moments. Entirely burned from the historical record, from the geological record even. No rubble, no ruins, no artifacts and no one left to tell of their existence. Both sides did it. Grand cities destroyed so completely that their names survive only in legend, if at all. Kiaja, Aqramthi, Sadangu and Kumolla were just a few.”
I nodded solemnly. I enjoyed the history lesson, but I wanted to know more about these powers I would have.
“You were telling me about the caduceus,” I said, in a tone that I hoped would be interpreted as helpful.
“Oh, yes. I said I didn’t want to go far afield and then I did just that. Now we’ve described Mercury. Who else in your mythology fits this description?”
I looked blankly. Tati looked like she wanted to say something, but decided to keep the thought to herself.
“Think about it from my perspective,” he said. “I’m not a human, obviously, so I’m not attached to the stories, I’m just looking for similarities between them. So what do we have? Incredibly fast, travels easily between the worlds of mortals and gods, dangerous when need be, serves as a herald or messenger, has wings…”
“An angel?” Tati said.
He smiled. “Yes, angels. And we see some of these same abilities described as traits of genies too.”
“You said you don’t know why they gave Mercury the staff,” Tati said. “But what about the wings?”
“That’s an easier one, I do believe,” he said. “Talari were modified to have incredibly increased fast-twitch muscle tissue and more than three times the nerve signals and speed of ordinary humans. So they were incredibly fast. I suspect the wings are a representation of that.”
Kelel stayed and spoke with us for a almost an hour before he was called away, but he assured us that he would be involved with our mission moving forward, which made me feel more comfortable. Before leaving, he encouraged us to get as much training and rest as we could, because we’d be going on our next mission as soon as we went back.
“The end goal is the same,” he said, “But the intermediate steps are going to be difficult. You have to find a portal before you can go through it.”
Over the next few weeks, Tati and I both got daily instruction in Enlil martial arts and after getting our asses kicked for the first few days, we both started getting pretty good at it. We were also becoming quite proficient with our encoded abilities and in using our chumahai to their full potential. We also got to enjoy a little R&R, Enlil style, which beat the socks off anything I’d ever done on Earth.
I had amazing living quarters and Enlil food was better than anything on Earth. They were very into tart and bitter flavors, so they used a lot of some fruit that tasted similar to a lime. I learned to be careful of their libations, though. Most were safe for humans to consume, but some were poisonous.
The Enlil were also much more open about sex than even the most libertine societies on Earth, and Enlil women were amazingly hot. Tashmit was a great hostess in more ways than one, and she made sure to introduce me and Tati to all the who’s who of the city.
After about a month training, Tati and I both felt ready and gathered with Tashmit and Kelel to plan. As it turned out, the Enlil didn’t know much about either the Enki resistance or their ties on Earth.
“We’re not entirely sure if a resistance actually exists,” Tashmit said. “We’ve picked up some snippets of communications and combined that with other data—“
“What other data?” Tati asked.
“Biographical information on the Enki leadership and inner circle, coded transmissions, some anomalies we’ve noticed. I’d handicap it at 75% that our intelligence is accurate and our conclusions are right. But I admit that it’s largely based on intuition. And 25% is not an insubstantial number.”
Tati whistled. I was glad the Enlil were being honest about how high the risks were, but I was all-in at this point. Risk didn’t faze me—hunting rare orchids in the places I had to go to find them was risky too, and didn’t have half the upside. When would I ever get another opportunity to live it up in another universe? Plus the generous financial considerations and superpowers.
“Why do we have to go back through the portal and travel like normal on Earth? Why can’t you just transport us to where we need to go?” Tati asked.
“We don’t want to attract Enki attention. I mentioned earlier that they monitor Earth as we do. They have greater influence over the eastern hemisphere and we’re more involved in the west, but it’s not exclusive. We have to be careful of all our other interactions on Earth. It would be easier in terms of logistics, but it would make things a lot more dangerous for you. You need to maintain cover on Earth, as in Enki once you get there.”
“Let’s talk about how to find the portals,” I suggested.
Tashmit pulled up a three-dimensional rendering of Earth from the console. “This represents the political alignment of Enki and Enlil on Earth as it was in 4000 BC. Little remains of certainty from that period, but we believe this to be a good approximation.” Highlighted on the globe were glowing patches of yellow, white, and blue. “The yellow represents areas of known Enki influence, and the white are areas of Enlil influence.
Kelel stood and continued. “Remember that the earliest Tkosi involvement on Earth was around 200,000 years ago and the first portals were constructed almost 16,000 years ago. The one you came through at Cahokia is one of the newest and it’s nearly 7,000 years old.”
“But even though they were built far from each other in Earth years, the technology underlying them is essentially the same,” Tashmit said. “The last significant open involvement of Tkosi in the affairs of Earth was almost 3,000 years ago. Obviously, we’ve remained involved quietly since then.”
“Why did you stop being so involved on Earth? What changed?” Tati asked.
Kelel sighed. “You’ve heard how destructive the wars were on Earth. That was nothing. When they came home to our planet, the level of destruction was unparalleled. So much was lost. We lost more knowledge in those wars than humans have yet acquired. We were able to engage so heavily on your planet because we found a system of dimensional bridges built by those who came before us. We used them to open a tear in the fabric between our universe and yours and squeeze a pocket of ours—containing our planet—into yours.”
“Like getting a goldfish at the pet store,” I said. “When you get home you put it in your fishbowl in its own little bag of water. It can’t stay there forever, but for a while it’s got its own little world within a world.”
Tashmit looked at me blankly. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not familiar with that experience. But the bridges had to remain operational to keep the pocket active. One by one, they were destroyed in the wars and it became more and more difficult to interact in your universe. When the last bridges were destroyed, our little pocket got squeezed out of your universe and the gap was closed. We lack the understanding needed to rebuild the bridges and without that, we can only cross in limited fashion with a few ships or units at a time.”
“So that explains why your involvement has lessened,” Tati said. “But how come it’s become covert? You guys used to be open and just appear to us. Why’d you stop?”
“Times changed,” Tashmit said with a shrug. “Our ethics and beliefs about interacting with less-evolved species changed. Much the same has been seen in human history. Humankind regressed after the Brother Wars destroyed everything. You lost millennia worth of advances and knowledge and largely fell back into ignorance. When the Europeans discovered—or rediscovered—that there were people living across the seas with less advanced technology, they behaved towards them in a way comparable to the way we first behaved towards humans. They exhibited an extreme lack of concern for the wellbeing of the people they encountered—they int
eracted with them in ways that would be seen as unacceptable now. We also have come to different conclusions about the appropriateness of openly interfering with less-advanced species.”
“But you still interfere.” Tatiana said.
“I said openly,” Tashmit said. She smiled, but there was a sharp edge to her tone.
Kelel coughed in an obvious effort to redirect everyone’s attention.
“If we can return to our discussion on portals—” he said. “Looking back at the map, we can plot out the most likely locations where portals may be found. The oldest ones were at Puma Punku and Aqramthi. Any civilization predating those two will not have a portal. Aqramthi, as we said earlier, was utterly destroyed in the wars. And even if it still had an operational portal, its ruins are deep underwater now, so that’s out. The newest portals constructed were those at Cahokia, plus Noor Calum and Ziphon in Southern Africa, but we know that both of those were destroyed.”
“Why do you have these portals in such inaccessible places?” Tati asked. “Why can’t there be one in a basement in London?”
Tashmit laughed. “All of the portals are much older than that. They were placed in the cities that we built ourselves, among human populations sufficiently advanced at the time to accept the responsibility. When the portals were placed, Europe, quite simply, wasn’t ready.
“With these criteria in mind, we can overlay some knowledge of where the Enki and Enlil were most involved on Earth to piece together likely targets.”
Kelel took over the explanation at this point. “The Middle East and Indian subcontinent were areas of particularly heavy Enki involvement,” he said. “The entire area was likely covered with portals, though how many remain operational is totally unknown. Most of the sites were abandoned over 3,000 years ago—fallout from the wars displaced people, and there were cities that were utterly destroyed. But there are some known sites left. The plan for this mission is for you to get to the Indus River Valley in Pakistan to investigate. There are a number of ancient ruins there, most notably the ruins of Saranjia, which was one of the biggest cities in the area before its destruction. Humans discovered the ruins about a hundred years ago and now know the city as Mohenjo-daro, in the western corner of the Sindh province of Pakistan. You should start there.”
I was ready to go and Tati agreed. I consulted my portal window calculator.
“The next window that will return you to Earth at the time you left will open tomorrow morning and last for three hours,” Tashmit said.
“Let’s do it then,” I said, looking at Tati who nodded her agreement. “We’ll be ready.”
We gathered that evening for a working dinner. Tashmit and Kelel brought in a number of mission planners to give us more detailed briefings on Enki government and key figures in case we found the portal and went through. They quizzed us on Enki history and drilled us on our backstories.
Despite the serious nature of the conversation, Tashmit still managed to subtly flirt with me and I caught her and Tati looking at each other more than once. It really was a joy watching Tati bring her backstory to life. I got passing grades, but she was a natural. “She is an actress,” I commented. “It comes naturally to her.”
This prompted another smile from Tashmit. “Actually, her genetic coding also improves her abilities in these regards. Her type were spies, remember. They had to be excellent mimics, with perfect reflexes and subtle facial expression.” She looked at Tati. “Which is not to take away from your skills, Tatiana. You’re definitely impressive. I’m sure you could make most of us believe just about anything.”
Tati blushed. “Thank you. I might be able to. But even I can’t fake some things. Right, Nate?”
We managed to get through the briefing just after 1:30 a.m. and I headed back to my quarters to get some rest.
I hadn’t been there long before I got a message from Tashmit, inviting me to her place for a nightcap. Even though I’d been bone tired when I got to my room, I suddenly felt a burst of renewed energy and found my way to her quarters in less than ten minutes.
To my surprise, it was Tati who opened the door when I got to Tashmit’s quarters. She was wearing a pair of very short shorts and a thin shirt that barely covered her breasts.
“Took your sweet time,” she said, a little breathlessly. “We had to get started without you.”
Tashmit appeared over Tati’s shoulder, totally naked except for some kind of sparkly Enlil hat. Her glossy hair spilled past her shoulders as she slipped her arms around Tati’s waist and reached up for Tati’s barely concealed breasts. The door closed behind me and Tati gasped as Tashmit’s fingers found her nipples and squeezed.
“All that talk about Tatiana’s acting and how well you two work together made me wonder a few things,” Tashmit said. “Like—how wide is her range?” She kissed Tati’s neck eliciting another gasp. “Does she work well with costars? Can she take direction?”
Stepping forward, I placed my hands over Tashmit’s and slid them down between Tati’s warm thighs. “She’s doing great, so far,” I said. Tati was rubbing my rock hard dick through my chumahai. I swiped it off and it had barely puddled on the floor before Tati was kneeling to take me into her mouth. Tashmit leaned forward to kiss me while she stroked Tati’s hair. My hands wandered over Tashmit’s body while Tati warmed me up. After a while, I pulled Tati to her feet and we all moved into the bedroom. I’d been imagining a threesome with these two since I first saw them checking each other out, but the reality of it was far more amazing than I could have ever imagined. They were both incredibly free spirited, and demanded as much as they gave—which was a lot. We fell asleep, legs and arms intertwined, around 4 a.m., then we were up and out again by 6.
We were gathered at the portal less than half an hour later. I understood its operation better now, and with a wave of my hand, I channeled to activate it. The glowing swirl lit up immediately—not a gradual process this time—and the light intensified, but didn’t reach for us. I turned to look back at Tashmit.
“Be careful,” she said, encompassing both me and Tati in that statement.
I wanted to grab her and kiss her again, but I didn’t want to expose our relationship to her colleagues. So I just nodded. “See you soon,” I said, then took Tati’s hand and stepped through.
10
Karachi, Pakistan
We emerged back in Cahokia just past 3 p.m. We’d been gone for about 21 Earth hours. Two days later we were en route to Pakistan. After a 22 hour trip, including a three-hour layover in Istanbul, we arrived in Karachi at about three in the morning. We needed to get to the Indus Valley. The local flight to Mohenjo-daro later that morning would only take a couple of hours, but there wasn’t much reason a couple of westerners would go there unless they were going to see the ruins, and we didn’t want to give ourselves away. We stayed in the airport until morning, then headed over to the train station as soon as it opened. Tati Neuroconcealed us to look Pakistani, and since we could speak the local language, we barely attracted any attention when we bought our tickets for that evening’s train to Larkana.
The train to Larkana took nine hours, and even with the chumahai’s assistance, we were exhausted when we arrived. It was nearly 2 am, and even at that time it was almost 100º outside. The train station was in the center of the city, but we’d booked a small hotel on the outskirts for more privacy.
Larkana was a bigger city than I’d expected, and there were still quite a few people out in the streets. Our cab driver was chatty and energetic. He spoke to us in English first, then, tentatively, in Sindhi. Our fluid shifts from one language to the next seemed to please him. Without asking, he surmised that we must have been raised abroad, which explained our strange inflections, but he complimented our Sindhi and said our parents had done well. He talked about the World Cup, and about the city, and about his kids studying overseas, all of which he punctuated with shouts and honks at other drivers.
We told him we were married and had both grown up in Eur
ope, but were visiting family. Since we were arriving so late, we’d decided to stay overnight at a hotel and our family would pick us up tomorrow. This seemed to satisfy his curiosity, so even though he chattered away for the rest of the ride, he didn’t ask many more questions.
We went out in the city the next day Neuroconcealed as European tourists. Without much difficulty, we managed to hire a taxi to take us up to the ruins at Mohenjo-daro. Even though we were on a mission, I was paying more attention to sightseeing than to trying to find a portal. The city had been a major population center 7,000 years before, and it was thrilling to walk around something so old and still recognize elements similar to what we had now. As old as the Romans are to us, these people were to the Romans.
The 250 acre ancient city was built on elevated ground overlooking the right bank of the Indus River, and the dozen or so separate sections were each built on individual mounds. One of the more interesting aspects was that the city had a well-planned street grid and elaborate water retention and drainage systems, but no temples or palaces or monuments. There was no evidence of a king or queen, or of any religion, either. And although there was a clearly defined wealthy part of the city—including multi-story homes with rooftop terraces—even in the poor section of the city the homes had areas for bathing and water storage. Archaeologists said that the Indus Valley civilization had lasted for over 2,000 years, but the city was abandoned abruptly and no one knew why. I wondered if it was related to the wars between the Enlil and Enki—the “Brother Wars.” I made a mental note to ask Kelel about it the next time I saw him.
As far as finding the portal, I was having a more difficult time. I was definitely sensing something, but it wasn’t as clear as what I’d felt at Cahokia. The signal seemed to be scattered, or coming from several directions at once. I would follow it in one direction and just when it seemed that I’d found the origin, the signal would be coming from somewhere else. After hours of searching, we still hadn’t found it.
Children of the Sky (The Talari Subversion Book 1) Page 10