by R. J. Leahy
He clapped his hands twice, and Serug and his men reappeared, Serug now carrying Jeena's bag.
"Serug, have thy men take her to the prison."
They untied her and dragged her away as she fought.
"Jacob! Jacob, let him go! Don't you touch him, you son of a bitch!” she shouted as they took her from the hall.
* * * *
"I searched her bags as thy hand signal commanded, K'laq, and discovered this,” said Serug.
Jacob looked at the object closely. It was some sort of rifle, that was obvious, but of a kind he had never seen. It was heavy, yet well balanced, with a strange tube underneath the barrel. He turned it over in his hands several times.
"A weapon of their science, no doubt,” he said scornfully. “We have no use for such toys. Remove it to the armory."
"Yes, K'laq.” Serug suddenly gripped his sword as he beheld the tigra.
"Peace, Serug. The beast is bound well. It is to be our final sacrifice tonight at the ceremony. I wish it to be a surprise for the people. Have it brought to the Nolstradium at the proper time."
He watched Serug leave the hall before turning his attention to the tigra. The beast was fully awake now and lay trembling on the cold marble floor.
Jacob went to him, studying him dispassionately.
"Well, now, demon, it is just the two of us. Shall I keep thee gagged, or test my soul against thy serpent's tongue?” With a cackling laugh, he pulled the blade from beneath his robes and, with a flick, cut the gag from the creature's mouth.
* * * *
"Nizerah, we have a new guest for thee,” one of the guards shouted into the jail.
They had bound Jeena once they left the hall, and now he pushed her off the kytar. She fell to the ground with a thud. A squat bearded man answered the call and came out from the prison into the street. He bent down to take a closer look at her. He was dirty and had a foul odor. An ugly scar started at his brow and descended diagonally across his face. At the point where the scar and his left eye met there was a useless white orb.
He examined her with his working eye. “An outsider, yes?"
"Yes,” answered the guard. “Arrest ordered by the k'laq himself."
"Ahh, an important prisoner. Thou binds her strongly for one so small,” he said, grinning.
The guard stiffened at the implied insult.
"Do not let her size fool thee. She fights like ten cats,” he said, wiping a trail of blood from his face.
"Yes? Well, perhaps a few days without food and water will soften her purr, eh?"
* * * *
Samson choked and coughed as the gag fell away.
"Better, demon?” the man named Jacob asked.
"I'm ... I'm not a demon,” he said hoarsely. If he could just remain calm perhaps he could reason with this man. After all, humans were intelligent and reasonable. But never in his life had he felt so afraid.
"Yes, I know,” replied Jacob, smiling.
"You know? But you told Jeena I was the Beast. I don't understand. If you know I'm not your enemy..."
"I said thou art no demon, but thou art surely mine enemy. Thou art more dangerous to me than any ten demons. Now, answer me well, for I will know if thou art false. Are there any more like unto thee? Can any other of thy race speak? Answer!"
Samson paused. How many nights had he lain awake asking that same question? He had only seen one other living tigra, and that had been at the cliffs years ago. And yet, if he was here, wasn't it possible there were others?
No, there would have been some sign by now, some evidence of intelligence in all these years. I'm a freak, that's all.
"I don't think so,” he said.
Jacob seemed visibly relieved by the answer. “That is good, very good. Well, then, it seems we have run out of conversation.” He reached for the gag.
"Wait, please. You don't need to do this. I'm no threat to you or to anyone. I would never hurt your people. I admire man. Jeena and I—"
"Jeena? Ah, yes, the captain. Thou hast some sort of feelings for her, and she thee, strange as that seems to me. And how wouldst thou describe that?"
"Our relationship? Well, I guess we're friends,” he replied uncertainly.
Jacob laughed. “Friends? Friendship implies a bond of equals. Though she is little better than an animal herself, blind to the will of God, she is still human. Dost thou truly consider thyself her equal?"
"Yes. No. I mean ... I don't know. It's just..."
"Confused beast. Can it be that she has never explained what thou art to her? Then I shall. Here is the truth of it—thou art her pet and nothing more, just an animal she discovered in the wilderness and to whom she taught some simple tricks to help pass the time. Canst thou truly believe she has some deep feelings for thee, thou who art no more than a beast? Do not delude thyself. Doubtless she will feel some small grief at thy passing—we humans have a soft spot for our pets, after all—but she will soon enough find a replacement. A turtle, perhaps."
Samson glared at him, his retractable fangs descending involuntarily into view.
"Ah, now the true nature of the beast is revealed,” Jacob mocked.
Samson cursed himself as he tried to will the teeth back to their resting position. They were a constant reminder of who and what he was and he hated them, but they were an autonomic response to his anger.
"I've done nothing to you. Why do you hate me so much?” he asked. The fangs slurred his speech slightly, further humiliating him.
"Because thou art an abomination. Man alone was made in God's image. Thy very existence makes mockery of that. But even were it not so, still would I desire your destruction and that of all your kind. Thou wilt not take this world from us, not thee nor thy entire race, low and bestial."
"Take the planet from you? Jacob, my species are just animals. How could we take it from you?"
Jacob did not answer, only moved quickly and pulled the leather gag into Samson's mouth before he could react, wrapping it even more tightly than before. Satisfied the tigra could not speak, he sat back in his chair and shook his head in mock sympathy.
"Poor stupid animal, ignorant even of thine own nature. Alas, that thou shall die with no answers to thy questions. And rest assured that this very night will thee die—and soon, the last of thy damned race."
Chapter 12
Trust no one, not even your fellow prisoners. The enemy will have spies and traitors among them. Be guarded with all offers of help. Above all, remember your training and trust your instincts.
excerpt from SAG Survival Manual
Jeena tested her chains. They ran from the manacles around her wrists to a large iron ring imbedded in a heavy stone in the center of the round cell. It allowed her to approach the door, but not quite reach it.
There were several narrow windows cut high in the wall, and a few slivers of light dimly illuminated the area around her. She saw a second chain linked to the iron ring and followed it across the cell, almost stumbling over a man lying deep in the shadows. Pale and emaciated, he wore a tunic of what once must have been fine, glimmering cloth, but which was now soiled and tattered. On his face and arms were deep scars and blisters that had been left untreated and which were now festering.
She squatted near him and pressed her fingers gently to his neck in search of a pulse. He opened his eyes slowly.
"I am still alive,” he said. His voice was weak, and there was a rattle to his breathing she had heard many times before. It was the sound of one near death. “I am Touloc, of the city of Uruk."
"I'm Jeena Garza."
His gaze fell on her flight suit. “You are an outsider?"
"Yes. I'm from the Union."
His eyes widened. “The Union is here? Ishtar be blessed."
Jeena shook her head. “No, Touloc, I'm sorry. I'm here alone, marooned on Ararat. The Union has not returned.” She watched as hope faded from his eyes. “Who are you? Why have they done this to you?"
He took several labored breaths befo
re attempting an answer.
"I am a messenger from the leaders of the Babylonian Confederacy. I was sent to seek help from Mordachi of the city of Pyros. The Rosh-dan intend war upon us, there can be no doubt now. I have seen their army, long hidden in their western lands. We cannot stand against such might. Almost a half-million they number.” He coughed, spraying blood. “I have failed."
"Where is this Mordachi?"
He stared up at her with a look that was both pleading yet suspicious.
"Touloc, I am not in league with the Rosh-dan. I don't know if I can escape from here, but I'm going to try."
His eyes are clouding. It's almost over.
"Pyros lies hidden deep in the Azulz. Find Mordachi ... please..."
He wheezed and was gone.
Jeena closed his eyelids gently. A half-a-million-man army, on a zed-tech world. Jacob obviously means not just to defeat the Babylonians but to wipe out all trace of their existence.
She leapt up. Of course, he does! That's how he intends to get away with it. Manifest Destiny—who would be left to challenge it? They would have to get rid of me, of course, and this Mordachi and his people ... and Samson.
Samson!
She tugged viciously at her chains. Her immediate problem was escape. She had to get out and stop Jacob from sacrificing Samson. And what if I'm already too late?
Her hands balled into fists, and her eyes began to sting. Then, Jacob, you will die. I'll kill you on your own altar. I swear it.
* * * *
The day was slipping into dusk, and the few rays of light that had earlier lit the cell were fading. She had worked steadily, using the edge of her shackles to chip away at the stone holding the iron ring. It was a painfully slow process, and time was precious; but if she could just work the ring loose...
There was coarse laughter from outside the cell, and she jumped up, dispersing the broken bits of stone and dust with her foot. She heard a loud crack followed by a heavy thud, and then the sound of keys being tried in the lock. The cell door flew open.
"Daniel!” she cried in surprise.
"Shhh!” He fumbled with the large ring of keys in his hand until he located the correct one and released her from her shackles. “I am committing a great crime, but I will not have thy death on my conscience. I have a kytar outside. Take it and fly with all speed from New Jerusalem.” He grasped her shoulders and looked sternly into her eyes. “Go not south. Thou art right, this is not thy war, yet war will come and I would have thee far from it."
"Thank you, Daniel,” she said, rubbing her wrists. “But what about you? You can't stay here now—Jacob will have your head. Come with me."
He smiled. “I am most flattered, but I cannot leave. This city is my home, Jeena, these people, my people. They are not evil, only misled. I would not wish to live elsewhere."
"Very well, then. I thank you for all you've done for me, but I need one last favor. Serug had a weapon of mine..."
He nodded. “When I heard they had arrested thee, I went to him to plead for thy release. He would not hear me, and ordered me gone, but I overheard somewhat of his conversation with his men. Much of it was of no concern to me and I paid little heed—a tigra, I gather, of some special worth is to be sacrificed tonight at the festival—but then I heard him speak thy name and my ears grew quicker. He spoke of a weapon that had been found in thy bags, and he ordered it to the armory."
"Thank you again, Daniel. And you were wrong in what you said before—you are a very brave man,” she said and kissed him.
He reddened to the ears. “Thou art most welcome. But, Jeena, I am not a traitor and these are my people. I would not have thee harm them."
"All I want is to leave, Daniel. I promise I'll try not to hurt anyone, but one way or another, I leave New Jerusalem tonight."
* * * *
Following Daniel's directions she made her way back to the wall where they had ridden yesterday. She continued along the road past the place where she had seen the barracks and the herd of kytars until she came to a large two-story brick building occupying almost the entire block.
She dismounted in an alley that ran alongside the building and peered around the corner. A door lamp illuminated the entrance. A lone soldier guarded the way, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. She retreated back into the alley and found a discarded piece of cloth among the trash bins. Ignoring the foul odor, she threw it over her head and shoulders. Hunched over and affecting a heavy limp, she stepped out onto the street.
The guard observed her closely but did not move from his post. As she passed him she stumbled, falling towards him. Reflexively, he held out his arms to catch her. Jeena threw her elbow, slamming it into his chest. As he slumped forward she caught him, twisting his neck expertly. There was a sharp crack, and he fell lifeless to the ground.
She untied the keys from his belt and opened the armory doors. Taking the lamp from its hook, she stepped inside.
The light revealed a cavernous room and an immense store of weapons. Swords and spears, bows and pikes were stacked throughout, row after row after row.
She searched each row, swinging the lamp at the stacks of weapons, until she stumbled on the MAAD lying in a pile of swords. Setting the lamp down, she reached for the weapon.
A blow struck her from behind, and she fell to the ground. She rolled onto her back as a heavy weight landed on her chest. In the flickering light of the lamp, she could just make out the face of her attacker.
Esau.
"Bitch!” he cursed, and struck her across the mouth. He thrust the edge of his knife against her throat. “Thou should have shown me greater kindness on our journey together. No doubt thou wishes to be my friend now, eh?” His eyes flirted over her body.
"Yes,” she said calmly
"Eh?"
"You're right. I do wish I had been kinder to you. Perhaps we can still be friends. I mean, I'm hardly in a position to stop you, am I?"
He pressed the knife more firmly, and eyed her suspiciously. With his free hand, he grasped the zipper of her flight suit and slowly pulled it down, exposing her breasts. He grinned. His hand wrapped around the flesh and squeezed. She moaned. Startled, he momentarily relaxed his blade hand.
Though Jeena had feigned resignation, she had actually been tense, waiting for this chance. Her hand shot out, and she grabbed his wrist as her left foot swung in a compact arc to come crashing against his face. He tumbled off her, and she leapt up, snapping the wrist in the same movement.
With an agonized howl, he dropped the blade. She snatched it up and loomed over him, fiery rage in her eyes.
* * * *
Jacob stood on the dais, the altar behind him still dripping with the blood of recent sacrifices. He gazed out over the throng of the faithful that packed the amphitheater and looked on from windows and roofs of the higher buildings, cheering and waving. There were religious banners and flags, and everywhere was the green-and-black of the Rosh-dan.
The sun was setting. The prayers had been read and the sacrifices performed. Soon, it would be time for the feast itself.
It had gone well, even though that fool Daniel had not shown to do his readings. Jacob would remember to speak to the Maudrian about him. It was a shame he was Serug's brother.
An explosion like a loud clap of thunder rolled out from the western edge of the city, accompanied by a great gust of blowing sand, forcing worshipers to cover their eyes.
"Nathaniel!” Jacob cried as the wind whipped around him, knocking his hat from his head.
A soldier ran up to him.
"Take a unit of the Rosh-dan and find the cause of that disturbance.” He raised his arms to the crowd, calming the murmurs of the confused masses. “Peace, peace,” he shouted. “Be not alarmed. We shall discover the source of the noise. For now let us not allow it to interfere with the festival."
The murmuring stilled.
"We have one last sacrifice to make, a gift I have saved for thee. It has been our duty and our privilege t
o prepare the way for the coming of the new order and the exaltation of Judaslam throughout the universe.
"It has not been an easy path. We have striven to make this place holy, to rid our world of the evil that infests it. We have not been idle.
"Long ago, our forefathers wisely decreed that the beast known as tigra should be driven from our world, and we have labored hard toward that end. Almost, our work is done. I have brought one of the few remaining creatures here, to be offered to God as a sign that our blessed Ararat will soon be cleansed of this plague."
He strode to the edge of the dais, his dark eyes bearing down on the awed crowd.
"Other evils there are, but their time, too, is at an end. For too long have we endured the blasphemies and wickedness of those who would turn from the Word. So, let us steel ourselves to our duties and, with this sacrifice, once again commit our lives to purifying our world for the greater glory of God!"
The crowd erupted in a frenzy of wild cheers. At his signal two guards appeared on the podium behind him, carrying the animal as before. They laid it on the altar and quickly slipped a rope around its neck, pulling its jaw back and exposing its throat. The beast trembled uncontrollably on the cold, slick altar, eyes white with fear. Jacob walked slowly toward it, knife raised high above his head.
"Jacob, please,” it rasped, “don't do this."
A tug on the rope, and its pleas were silenced. Jacob murmured a prayer and laid the blade on the exposed throat.
"Jacob!"
* * * *
The man on the podium wheeled, knife in his upraised hand. Jeena had come up from the rear of the Nolstradium, riding a kytar, Esau mounted before her. His hands were bound, and she had the barrel of the MAAD shoved under his chin.
"Let him go, Jacob! Now!” She jumped off the mount, dragging Esau down with her and forcing the kytar down onto its flanks. Keeping Esau before her, she moved carefully toward the dais, spinning and turning so the wall archers could not get a bead on her.