Tigra

  * * * *

  She found Samson in their apartment, sitting and staring vacantly into space.

  "You all right?” she asked. “How are your hands?"

  "Paws, Jeena, I have paws, remember?” he said, flexing them. “They're fine."

  "Okay, okay, paws, then, Mister Grouchy. But you still don't look right to me. Maybe you should let one of the Pyros doctors take a look at you."

  "It's not necessary, I'm fine. Besides, everywhere I've gone people come up and stare at me."

  "Have they been bothering you?"

  "No, nothing like that. They've all been very kind, just curious and, to be honest, a little awe-struck, I think."

  "Can't blame them for that,” she said. She sat near him on one of the low seats. “So, what have you been thinking about?"

  "Me. Well, tigras in general, really. Do you realize I know next to nothing about my race?"

  "So, maybe this would be a good time to study up. Mordachi said the scientists in Pyros have been studying tigras for years. They have a wealth of data I'm sure they'd be more than happy to share with you. He's invited us to stay for as long as we like."

  "I'd like that, but what about the Babylonians? Are they going to help them?"

  "Yes, but they won't be leaving for several weeks yet. David tells me that most of the population doesn't actually live in the mountain, but in surrounding farming communities. It will take some time to gather their forces and arm them."

  Samson sighed. “There has to be an answer. There has to be a reason why they came to be the way they are, and why I'm not."

  "Yep, I'd say that's probably right. So, what do you say we start tomorrow looking for an answer?"

  * * * *

  Mordachi was pleased to grant Samson access to all the information on the tigras they had accumulated over the years. Jeena aided him at first, but was often called away to help David with the formation of a battle plan.

  Although he had studied war and was the commander of the Pyros forces, in truth, neither he nor anyone on Ararat had any real experience in warfare. Jeena was tapped for her extensive knowledge of battle tactics and assisted in the training of the troops, and soon Samson was alone in his studies.

  He pored over all the data the Pyros scientists had collected and spent long hours in discussion with Jason and the other archeologists; but like them, he could find nothing to explain the tigras’ downfall. He even went on safari to observe tigras in the wild but discovered little. They were too wary, and their senses too keen, for the men to get close.

  After three weeks he knew what he had to do, and wondered how Jeena would take his decision.

  * * * *

  "What are you reading?” she asked. They had just finished eating and were relaxing in the sitting room.

  "It's a partial translation from the tigra histories."

  "Have you learned anything?"

  "Yes, but nothing helpful. I will say this about my ancestors—they weren't a peaceful race. Everything I've read indicates they were warlike and bloodthirsty. It's a wonder they didn't kill themselves off long before their civilization declined."

  "Anything on the reason for their present state?” Jeena asked.

  "No. At least, nothing in what they've translated. There are tens of thousands of pages that have yet to be deciphered, but it will take years to interpret them all. I'm never going to find out what happened to them here in Pyros."

  "I'm sorry, Samson, I really am. But where does that leave you?"

  "I've been thinking about that. I don't see any other choice but to go out there. I need to study them myself and hopefully find something the Pyros scientists have missed."

  He read the doubt in her expression.

  "All right, so I'm not a scientist. Then again, they've never had anything else to compare to the wild tigras. I have me. Maybe I can discover what makes us different."

  "It's the longest of long shots, but if that's what you want I'm ready whenever you are."

  He smiled. “You'd do that, wouldn't you? You'd follow me into the wastes, guarding me and covering my back for as I long as I needed. Why?"

  * * * *

  She stared silently back. Please don't ask me that. I don't know the answer myself. Or maybe I do, but I'm too much of a coward to face it.

  Samson chuckled softly. “Well, go ahead and be inscrutable if you want. Anyway, thanks for the offer, but the fact is you can't come with me. No one can. I have to go alone."

  "Samson, don't be ridiculous. You can't go alone. How will you survive? And what do you think will happen if something goes wrong? You're no match for one of them."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I don't have a choice—I have to go alone. I've tried getting close with the scientists, but they won't let a human get anywhere near them. The only way I'm going to be able to do this is alone. You've protected me all my life and I love you for it, but it's time for this cub to grow up. Besides, I'll only be gone a couple of weeks at first. I promise I'll come back before the army moves out.” He rubbed the back of his paw against her face. “Please don't fight me on this. I've made up my mind."

  She wasn't about to give up that easily and argued against his going well into the night, but in the end she could not dissuade him from leaving. When the arguments were over he fell into an easy slumber, but she was restless. The one argument she had not used was her own irrational fear—that if they ever split up, she would never see him again.

  It was long into the night before she finally fell asleep, and when she did it was a sleep filled with dreams of war, of tall battlements and a dark enemy, of thunder and flood and death on a massive scale. And through all the death and destruction the only emotion she could feel was a sense of utter loss.

  Chapter 18

  Si vis pacem, para bellum.

  (If you want peace, prepare for war.)

  Ancient Earth saying

  Jeena stood under the rock overhang in the early dawn, Samson by her side.

  "David says the army will move out in two weeks. I want your word you'll be back by then,” she said, her breath visible in the cold morning air.

  "You have it. Besides, this is just an initial contact. I may stay out longer as I get more comfortable with them and they with me, but for now all I want to do is establish some kind of connection."

  "You keep saying that, but just what kind of connection do you think you can make with these animals?"

  "I'm not sure. I have an idea, but I'd rather not say anything just yet."

  She gazed at him with a face drawn and somber. “You're an idiot."

  Laughing, Samson stood and wrapped his large forelegs around her.

  "Your pep talks kill me.” He drew her close, his muzzle brushing her ear. “I will be back, I promise.” Dropping down on all fours, he headed north across the frozen ground.

  Jeena sat on a rock and watched in silence until he disappeared from view. A cough from behind startled her.

  Kathryn Humboldt stood outside the gateway. “I'm sorry, Captain Garza, I didn't mean to disturb you."

  "It's all right."

  "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was looking for you. I wanted to explain my resistance to the war. Please understand that I am only looking out for the safety of my people."

  "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Kathryn, I'm just a visitor here,” Jeena replied wearily. She had been deep in thought and had no wish for company.

  But Kathryn showed no sign of leaving. “Well, you have been a most welcome visitor. I never thought I would see someone from the Union back on Ararat in my lifetime. And what you have accomplished with that animal—amazing."

  "Animal? Please don't call him that. His name is Samson, Miss Humboldt, Samson—it's really a very simple name."

  "Samson, of course. I must say, you certainly have an interesting ... relationship with him."

  It was obvious the woman had more to say.

  Jeena stood, frowning. “Go on."

  "W
ell, I only mean that one could get the wrong idea, seeing you two together. Understand that I would never indulge in gossip, but you should know there are people whispering all sorts of things."

  "Really? I would love to hear them."

  She shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no, I couldn't, but they involve the animal. Of course, I don't believe a word of it, but it might be wise to take greater care with your reputation."

  Jeena laughed.

  "My reputation? Hell, Kathryn, I've been called a bitch, a murderer, a heretic and a whore—and they're all true. Any name you people could give me would be a compliment.” She became grave. “And I've warned you once about calling him an animal. I won't warn you again."

  "There is no need to take offense. I'm only trying to help you,” Kathryn said indignantly. “And tigras are animals, whatever you may think. Good heavens, the way you defend him, you'd think the rumors were true."

  Jeena shook her head sadly then struck the woman without warning, sending her sprawling onto the hard snow.

  Kathryn sat up slowly, her hand holding her rapidly swollen jaw, an expression of shock on her face.

  "You have it backward, Kathryn. You see, I'm the animal. It's Samson who is civilized. Oh, and by the way, call him that again and you'll be the one walking on all fours."

  She tightened her collar around her neck and strolled back into the mountain, for some reason feeling slightly better than she had just a moment before.

  * * * *

  Samson was walking at a comfortable pace when he heard hoofbeats behind him. He turned to see a rider coming from Pyros and stopped to wait for him.

  It was David, and he dismounted as he reached him. He carried something in his hand.

  "Hello, Samson, I was hoping to catch you before you left."

  "Is something wrong?"

  "No, nothing like that,” David said, shuffling his feet. “Look, you and I got off on the wrong foot, I think. I wasn't very friendly to either you or Captain Garza at our first meeting, and I haven't extended as much courtesy to you as I should have. It took me a while longer for the shock to wear off, I suppose. Anyway, I wanted to apologize."

  "You don't have to, David. I think I understand. And I heard about your defense of my people in Parliament. Thank you for that."

  "I meant every word,” he said, and held out the object in his hand.

  "What is it?"

  "It's a kind of vest, specially made for a tigra. Captain Garza gave me the idea when she told me about your leaving. I had one of our tailors make it up. I filled the pockets with maps of the locations of all the tigra populations we've been able to identify over the years. I thought it might come in handy."

  Samson took the black leather garment. “David, thank you. I don't know what to say."

  "You've already said it. Here, stand up, let me see if it fits."

  Samson stood and allowed David to snap the vest over his chest and upper arms. It was thin and small enough not to interfere with his movement, either on two legs or four, and it had many pockets stuffed with maps.

  "There,” said David. “You'll be the best-dressed tigra in the wastes."

  Samson offered his paw, and David took it.

  "Jeena says you'll be back before I lead the troops south. I hope to see you then."

  "You will. And thank you again, David. For your friendship as well as the gift."

  * * * *

  David nodded awkwardly and leapt on his kytar, looking back only once to see the black-and-gold tigra quickly evaporate into the mists. He returned to his military headquarters to find Jeena poring over old maps with his officers.

  "I'm worried about the delay in getting your men off,” she said. “My destruction of the Rosh-dan arsenal must have set them back, but that was over a month ago. I imagine Jacob has been driving them night and day to rebuild."

  "I know, but to depart any sooner would mean leaving men behind, and we are already greatly outnumbered."

  "True. I suppose you have no choice, then. What do you know of the Babylonian military? How well trained are they?"

  "Very well, I should think. I have never been to Uruk myself, but I know they have a standing army—they've had to with the Rosh-dan breathing down their necks—and that they are followers of Anil, the god of war in their culture. I understand their training is very intensive, but only in the use of swords and the like."

  "Do they know what's coming?"

  "Riders went out three days ago. They'll be told of Touloc's death and your activities in New Jerusalem. I can't imagine they'll glean much hope from it all."

  "No, neither can I. But maybe this will help their spirits.” She reached under the table and picked up her pack, removing the MAAD.

  "Quite a weapon, from what you've said,” David commented.

  "Yes, it is. It can't fight off half a million men by itself, but it can help.” She tossed it to him.

  "But this is yours."

  "I have no use for it, David. You do. It is my gift to you. Now come outside and let me show you what it's capable of."

  It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to set when they had finished. David was shaken by the power the weapon represented and was reluctant to touch it, even under Jeena's tutelage.

  In token of thanks for the gift as well as the extensive military knowledge she had imparted during her stay, he offered her dinner at one of the many cafes located throughout the mountain city. They went high into the mountain, to an area she had never seen before.

  * * * *

  Although Jeena soon became lost, David navigated the turning, twisting corridors that ran lattice-like throughout the mountain with familiarity.

  "We know from our studies that tigras have a phenomenal sense of spatial vision,” he told her. “Taken as a whole, the layout of Pyros is a work of artistic beauty that is difficult for the human mind to grasp."

  "You seem to do pretty well,” she observed.

  "Being a native helps, of course, but I doubt I perceive the subtleties in the same way they did."

  The cafe he led her to was in the uppermost level of the mountain, in what was the equivalent of a park. Here, shafts had been bored through the rock to allow natural sunlight into the interior. Trees and grass grew here, and they sat at a small table beneath a canopy of leaves.

  "It's absolutely remarkable,” Jeena said.

  "It took a generation of hard work to restore the miles of plumbing and irrigation systems, but well worth the effort, I think."

  They ordered their meal and ate while speaking of many things. David was genuinely interested in everything she had experienced, and she told him of the many battles she had witnessed—of the carnage and death, of whole planets under attack by legions of starfighters.

  "I wish you were going with me to Uruk. I could really use someone with your experience."

  "I'm sorry, David. I wouldn't be much use to you, anyway. I'm sick of war,” she said. “I'm sick of the death, and the noise, and the stench of it. I wish I could help you and your people, but there is no more war left in me."

  "I understand, and there's no reason to be sorry. I'm sure I'll feel the same when this is over."

  "You've never been in battle?"

  "No. Pyros has had a militia since its founding, but we've never had a large enough population to even consider confronting the Rosh-dan. We train, of course, but if ever attacked we'd mostly depend on the mountain for our defense."

  "It's a good defense. An army would have a hard time penetrating this place."

  "Yes, I suppose we could last a while, but not forever. Eventually, the food would run out or they'd find a way to block the incoming water and then it would be over."

  They finished their meal, and David explained there was someplace special he wanted to show her. They continued their conversation as they made their way up the central ramp.

  "You're all descendents of Afridi, but I haven't seen any temples,” Jeena observed.

  "There aren't any. I
t's hard to rediscover your faith once it's been lost. Don't get me wrong, many still have faith in a supreme being, but not in any organized manner. The disillusionment of the Rosh-dan stripped away what we thought we understood, and we're still grappling to find new answers. What about you? Do you practice a religion?"

  "No. I was raised by Arian Christians, but I've never had much use for religion. Most of those I've seen are either messianic and therefore inherently dangerous, or hollow disseminators of empty platitudes like brotherhood and love and the general goodness of man."

  David winced. “Ouch, that's a bit cynical, don't you think? Surely, you're not so jaded as to completely discount the possibility of some benign guiding force?"

  "Oh, I don't know. I suppose I'd like to think of the universe as something other than just a random series of essentially pointless events, but I'm not sure I have the capacity anymore."

  They ascended the rampway, passing openings on either side, halls leading out to the periphery like spokes of a wheel. Some passageways were straight, while others ascended or descended with no apparent order or regularity. These would then intersect with levels of other pathways and halls circling the mountain's interior. It created an almost innumerable number of intersections, yet there was no sense of randomness. Unlike the streets of New Jerusalem, the halls of Pyros appeared to have been laid out according to a single vision, alien though it was.

  They reached the uppermost level, and David swung open a pair of heavy wooden doors. They stepped onto a stone balcony jutting out from the mountainside. Below them was only darkness, while above a kaleidoscope of stars shone bright.

  "We call this platform the halel. It's my favorite spot in all of Pyros, and well worth the walk, I think,” David said.

  "It's beautiful,” Jeena admitted, rubbing her hands over her arms. The air was brisk, but not biting.

  "We're not sure what the tigras used it for. Was it just a viewing area for stargazing, or did it have some special significance for them, maybe even religious significance.” He shook his head. “It's so frustrating. Here they are walking among us and yet they can tell us nothing, not even the answer to the one riddle that has puzzled our people for decades: What happened to you?"