Tigra

  But Daniel only smiled. “Nay, thou misunderstands. The death of the animal is our sacrifice. We live austerely and take no more from the land than we need. The animal we sacrifice is the food we will not have. It is our hunger that is the true gift to God."

  "I see. And you're right, I didn't understand. I'm sorry. I have another question, but it may be just as naive."

  "Please, feel free to ask me anything. The prophets say we cannot learn if we do not ask."

  "All right, then. What about the tigras? I understand you sacrifice them, as well, and yet surely, they're not food."

  "Nay,” he said sadly. His expression was pained, as though searching for the right words. “It was not always thus,” he began slowly. “It is said that in the beginning the tigras were considered as many other wild animals on Ararat—dangerous but not evil. The command to destroy them came later, and was issued by the first K'laq of the Rosh-dan. They quote obscure scripture to justify their actions, but I must confess I do not see their reasoning."

  "So, you are not a member of the Rosh-dan? I wondered that you weren't wearing a sword."

  "Nay, I am an initiate of the Maudrian, the Judaslamic priesthood. All but the Rosh-dan are forbidden from carrying weapons. The Rosh-dan are...” He shook his head and sighed. “The Rosh-dan were created by Seth, son of Caleb, the prophet and founder of our colony. They were few in number in the beginning and were responsible only for seeing that our religious laws were followed, but their power has grown much of late, in especial since Jacob became k'laq."

  "Jacob? I've heard his name mentioned before."

  "Yes, Jacob is leader of the Rosh-dan. Thou hast met his son, Esau."

  Jeena cringed inside. So, Esau is the son of their military leader? That explains his haughtiness, and why Serug and Ibrahim seemed unwilling to confront him. I hate to imagine what the father of that one must be like. Well, just one more reason to finish up this visit quickly and get out of here.

  Daniel led them around the amphitheater and turned into a narrow, winding street. She observed that many of the buildings lining the way seemed pressed together and haphazardly erected—a sure sign of rapid population growth. Their nearness to one another blocked much of the sunlight from reaching the street, and the way was dim and shadowy. The thick stones the Afridi preferred for building muffled sounds, including the hoofbeats of their kytars, which together with the muted lighting created an atmosphere of gloom and foreboding.

  The dimness did not seem to bother Daniel, who whistled softly as he navigated the maze of streets, occasionally stopping to point out some structure of interest. Finally, the way opened up, and Jeena found herself before a great tower, as black as the gates and rising to the sky. A small arched doorway was carved into its base, and a balcony ringed the top.

  "This is the southern Tower of Holies,” Daniel explained. “There is another identical to it to the north. The Maudrian call prayers from the towers every dawn and dusk. Thou will hear them tonight."

  They passed under the shadow of the tower, continuing their journey into the heart of the city. Again narrow streets wound around grim, oppressive buildings, swallowed in artificial twilight. Daniel continued his tour, pointing out with obvious pride the various engineering accomplishments of New Jerusalem, including the extensive aqueducts that carried fresh water from the mountains, and the immense underground sewer system. Jeena smiled and tried to look impressed, although by late afternoon she was beginning to get bored and more than a little saddle-sore.

  They came to a group of low buildings set in a row.

  "These are the meal-houses for this section of the city. Art thou hungry?” Daniel asked.

  "Yes, I could eat."

  "Good,” he said, smiling. “It is almost time for the evening meal, and I am famished."

  As he spoke a loud gong sounded, echoing off the walls. This was answered by another, farther off. Soon, more joined in, until the city was alive with the sound.

  "That is the signal. Come, follow me."

  They dismounted, and she followed him to the nearest building.

  "We are a communal society, and eat our meals together,” he explained. “Each family is assigned to one of the meal-houses set throughout the city. As a bachelor and initiate of the Maudrian, I have somewhat more freedom then most, and have visited most of the houses."

  He opened a door onto a large hall, lighted by many candles and filled with row upon row of long wooden tables. They moved aside the doorway as people pressed in behind them, and before long the hall was filled. Jeena observed that, while the men and small children quickly took seats at the tables, the women bustled in and out of doors at the far end of the hall, carrying platters of food and drink. As with all the others she had seen, the men wore dark clothes and untrimmed beards, and the women were covered in long, shapeless robes of rough cloth that wrapped them from head to foot so that only their eyes could be seen.

  Daniel led her to one of the nearer tables. An elderly man sat at the head, staring openly at her with unfriendly eyes. Daniel introduced her, explaining in a hushed voice that she was a visitor from afar, brought to the city by Serug.

  The man regarded him gravely.

  "Those who have left may not dine in our halls, nor their generations, Daniel. Thou knowest the law."

  "Nay, she is not an Apostate. She is from...” He pointed toward the sky. “...from the Union,” he whispered.

  The man's eyes widened in disbelief.

  "It is true,” Daniel said in answer to the unspoken skepticism. “Serug is to present her to the council in the morning."

  The old man returned his attention to Jeena.

  "The Union,” he growled. “So, at last thou hast returned to our world. It has been long."

  "Long, indeed,” Daniel agreed. “But Serug wishes the announcement to be held until Jacob and the council have had a chance to make speech with her."

  "If thou wishes to keep her presence a secret, thou wouldst do well to cover her. Her dress is immodest."

  Daniel reddened. “She is not Judaslamic, Fareed, and is not required to wear the chador. She is a guest in our city and will be treated with all kindness, or Jacob will hear of it."

  "Thou takest offense too easily, Daniel. I merely state the obvious. Calm thyself and share the blessings of our table,” he said, bowing his head.

  Jeena had come close to speaking up in her own defense but thought it best to let Daniel handle the situation. As they sat she whispered in his ear, “If my dress is going to cause a ruckus, maybe I should just leave."

  "No, thou shall stay. Thou hast done no wrong. Fareed has made the offense—kindness to strangers is a holy command. But he is right—it is too long since we have had contact with the outside world. We have grown intolerant of other cultures. We are distrustful of them and scornful of their ways. The coming of the Union will be a blessing."

  "Daniel...” Jeena began then stopped. Stupid! Keep your mouth shut. You're here to gather information not dispense it. If they believe the Union is coming then let them. It may work in your favor. You know nothing about this man. Do not let your guard down.

  "Yes?” Daniel said.

  "I'm sorry. I was going to say that you at least seem comfortable with outsiders. Have you had contact with the Babylonian colony?"

  "Nay,” he replied, a look of fright on his face. “Travel to the east is forbidden to all but the Rosh-dan, and even they avoid their lands.” He lowered his voice. “It is said they practice human sacrifice and cannibalism. I have even heard it whispered that in days past they would often raid our cities, making off with our children. It is only by the continued vigilance of the Rosh-dan and our own stout walls that we have managed to keep them at bay."

  Jeena said nothing. Cannibalism, human sacrifice, baby-snatching—how many times had these same outrageous crimes been charged against strange and alien cultures? Jews, North American Indians, native Africans, Secundus Resurrectors—the list was endless. In every case they had b
een proven to be outright lies, slanders initiated by those who had a stake in the accuseds’ destruction. Maybe it says something about us, that we are always so willing to believe the stories. Even Daniel apparently believed them. The Afridi leaders were obviously propagating an atmosphere of fear and hatred toward the Babylonians. The question was why.

  Fareed stood and offered a short prayer before the meal was served. The food was simple but nourishing, and well prepared. There was roasted meat and green vegetables, as well as nuts and fresh fruit. Jeena tried to initiate polite conversation with several of the people at her table but was rebuffed. The men openly ignored her comments while the women averted their eyes. Apparently, conversation at mealtime was another proscription of Afridi law.

  When the meal ended they left the hall and remounted, and continued their journey north. They traveled less than an hour before Daniel halted.

  "I hope this will suffice,” he said, pointing to a small, single-story structure. “It is a spare apartment owned by the Maudrian."

  "It will be fine, Daniel, thank you.” She dismounted and slung her pack over her shoulder.

  "Good. I must leave thee now—curfew begins after evening prayer. Serug will be here in the morning to escort thee to the council. I do not know thy schedule, but hopefully I will see thee again before thou leaves."

  "I would like that. I have enjoyed your company."

  He smiled at the compliment.

  "Daniel, there was something I meant to ask you—if I'm not being too nosy. You and Serug bear a close resemblance. Are you...?"

  "Serug is my brother."

  She smiled. “I see. Well, goodnight, Daniel."

  He bowed his head then turned his kytar into the shadows of the street and disappeared.

  Jeena stepped into the small one-room apartment—the door had not been locked. It was sparsely furnished with a simple wooden table and two chairs. The table was bare save for an oily and blackened oil lamp. Finding some matches, she lit it, throwing harsh yellow light and sharp shadows across the walls.

  Like the meal hall, there were no bright colors or ornamentation anywhere in the room. Against the far wall was a side table on which sat an ewer of water and a small bowl. Next to this was a simple slat bed covered with a coarse mattress. On the bed was a book.

  Jeena rummaged through her pack and found a cigar. Lighting it, she sat on the bed and examined the book. It was bound in smooth but well-worn black leather and was embossed with a silver star and moon. The pages were yellow and curled with age, some of them falling out as she carefully turned the pages.

  It was a Judaslam Bible. She opened the book randomly to Psalms, and read the text:

  And God the Merciful will come among you

  And sit among you

  In the house of the righteous He will sit

  And over all He will rule.

  Therefore prepare the place of His coming

  Make the holy ground ready

  For in His right hand sits truth

  And in His left hand is the sword of justice

  Over every living thing He will rule

  The birds in the sky

  The fish in the sea

  He will judge them good or evil

  Therefore suffer not the blasphemous among you

  Nor the evil beast to live

  For it speaketh like a man

  To spread its lies upon the world

  She placed the book back on the bed and went to the one window in the small room to sit on the windowsill. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and listened to the lyrical sounds of the Maudrian prayer chants reverberating through the city. Tomorrow, she thought, should prove an interesting day.

  * * * *

  The bed was just as uncomfortable as it looked, and Jeena slept fitfully. She was already awake and tying up her moccasins when Serug arrived. She grabbed the duffel bag on the way out then reconsidered and left it in the apartment. Automatically, she searched for a lock.

  "Thy things will be perfectly safe,” Serug said, sounding defensive. “Theft is unknown to us."

  "Of course. I'm sorry. Old habit.” She leapt on her kytar and followed as he headed toward the center of the city. “Do you know what will be expected of me at this meeting?"

  Serug smiled. “The council simply wishes to make thy acquaintance. They may have some questions concerning this war thou speaks of, but not many. Have no fear, Captain, it is not to an inquisition I take thee."

  Jeena smiled back. Well, that's reassuring, at least.

  They soon came upon a long, towering structure near the very center of the city. Its walls were made of an alabaster-white stone and its roof of dark wood, sloped like the bow of a ship. Two gleaming iron doors stood atop a dozen marble steps.

  This will be the Rosh-dan headquarters, Jeena guessed. It's a building meant to impress. And it does.

  They dismounted, and Serug led her up the steps. As they approached, the iron doors opened. Of course—we're expected.

  The doorway opened to a single large hall, the interior lined in smooth marble. Narrow, slit-like windows of stained glass were set high in the walls. Along the length of the hall stone columns, beautifully carved, ran on either side of a central aisle. Set between the outer walls and the columns were rows of wooden pews. Thin shafts of colored light filtered in from the windows and fell across the floor in a rainbow of subtle hues. It all reminded Jeena of an ancient medieval cathedral.

  At the end of the aisle was a long table of ebony wood, and behind it sat five grey-haired men—the Council of the Rosh-dan. A single chair had been placed before the table.

  Serug escorted Jeena down the aisle. As they neared the table, the man in the centermost seat rose. Like the others, he was old, his long grey beard neatly combed against the black of his robes. On his head sat a square black hat, and around his neck a silver star and crescent moon hung from a thin silver chain.

  But Jeena could only stare at his face. It was the same hard, leathery face she had seen through the binoculars at the cliffs.

  Serug halted before the table and crossed his right arm over his chest in salute.

  "K'laq, members of the council, may I present Captain Jeena Garza of the Union of Democratic Planets."

  The familiar man rose. “I thank thee, Serug. Captain Garza, allow me to introduce myself. I am Jacob, K'laq of the Rosh-dan and leader of the Afridi of Ararat. Before thee sits the elder council of the Rosh-dan: Harun, Jabril, Zachariah and Ezekiel."

  As he spoke each name, the man rose and bowed.

  "It is with great pleasure that we welcome thee to our fair city."

  Jeena tried to smile. “Thank you, K'laq, councilmen, and greetings from the UDP."

  If possible, Jacob was even less lifelike in person than he had been in the binoculars. There was a grey tone to his skin, almost matching the color of his beard. Deep, chiseled lines were carved along the length of his face, and even this close she could not make out his eyes. They were lost within the dark caverns sunk deep into his skull and shadowed by projecting brows.

  "Please be seated, Captain. As thou might imagine, we are anxious to learn all thou can tell us. A hundred years is a long time to be separated from the rest of mankind."

  "Of course. I will be pleased to tell you all that I can,” she said, sitting in the proffered chair.

  Serug bowed once more to Jacob and the council and slipped quietly away into the shadows of the hall.

  "I am told thee has not come to Ararat as an official emissary of the Union.” Jacob said.

  "Not officially, no. As your men may have informed you, my presence here is an accident of war."

  The one introduced as Zachariah nodded.

  "Yes, the war. I heard rumor of the Galactic Civil War in my youth. I had no idea it continued."

  "I'm afraid so. It has been raging for almost a century."

  Jacob raised his brows. “Quite a long time for continuous hostilities."

  "Yes, it is,” she agree
d. “As you may be aware, historically, civil wars are often the longest and bloodiest. This one has proven no exception."

  "These worlds which form your enemy, the Coalition, were they not once part of the Union?” asked Harun.

  "Yes. The war began with the secession of four planets. They launched attacks on other worlds, steadily gaining territory, and now number twenty-two worlds."

  Jacob leaned forward, studying her intently.

  "I see. And has the Union been battling all these years to win them back? To force them back into the fold, as it were?"

  Jeena shook her head. “No, sir. While the initial break with the Union was an obvious act of sedition, we were willing to work with them toward a compromise. The problems began when they started making territorial claims on other Union planets."

  "And these conquered worlds have been unable to free themselves?"

  "No. The Coalition Empire holds the populous in a tight grip."

  "Empire?” asked Harun.

  "The Coalition government is fashioned as a lineal monarchy. Power is centralized in an emperor and channeled to the planets through various royal houses. It's an antiquated system, I know, but very efficient in maintaining tight control."

  "So it seems, as the Union has been unable to defeat them,” said Jacob.

  "Don't be misled by their archaic style of government, K'laq. The Coalition is a highly advanced technological society. While we have superiority in numbers, the Union has fought hard just to keep up with their scientific prowess. Lately, we have even obtained evidence that they are experimenting with the fusion of man and machine, in an effort to create a superior soldier."

  Jacob sneered. “Man was created in the image of God. To tamper with that is to commit blasphemy. Did the lesson of the Obsidian Plague teach them nothing?"

  "Apparently not. And I doubt they are troubled much by blasphemy. The Coalition practices an atheistic culture."

  "Thou means they are godless,” said Jabril.

  "Yes. From the information we have, it is clear that religion is brutally suppressed on all of their worlds. Apparently, they see it as a challenge to their authority."