Tigra

by R. J. Leahy

  "Wait! Why are you going to Uruk?” he asked, following Samson through the gate.

  As he stepped out into the midday sun, he shrieked. Behind Samson in the fields before the city, stood row after row of tigras, thousands upon thousands, and behind them thousands more, an expanse of gold that extended all the way to the hills beyond.

  "Yes, Mordachi,” Samson said, “the ancient race has awoken. To what end we will come I do not know, but we will sleep no more."

  Turning, he sped the army of tigras off to the south, leaving Mordachi to stare in open-mouthed wonder.

  * * * *

  It was late the next morning when Jeena finally made it back to the palace. She found David in his room, moving slowly and trying to work out the knocks he had taken in the game.

  "So, there you are,” he said. “I wondered where you had gotten off to so early, or did you even make it home from the party? You were hitting the bottle pretty hard.” He stopped and gaped at her. “Good heavens, what's happened to you?"

  "What?” she asked, startled.

  "Your face."

  She put her hand to her face. “What's the matter? What's wrong with my face?"

  "You're smiling."

  "Very funny."

  "I'm serious. I haven't seen you smile like that in a long time. It's good to see. Can I ask what caused it?"

  "I'm not sure, really—this place, these people. I think maybe I'm starting to heal.” Her smile faded. “I loved him, David."

  "Yes, I know,” he replied, and he did not have to ask of whom they spoke.

  "Did you? I didn't, or at least I wouldn't admit it. I told myself it was just compassion and friendship I felt, but the truth is I was ashamed. I was ashamed for loving him, for wanting him. Like everyone else, I was too damn shallow to see past the fur."

  "Don't be so hard on yourself. Interspecies love is a taboo as old as mankind. You've had to fight emotions everything in your experience told you were wrong. At least you're finally working through your grief."

  "I still have a long way to go, but if there is any place I can become whole again, then I think Uruk is it. I've decided that if we win this war I won't be going back to the Corps. I'm staying here."

  A young shimhatu knocked and entered.

  "I am sorry to disturb you, but Commander Selanja has asked that you both meet her immediately on the parapets above the city gates."

  They found Selanja with Sargon and Halamesh looking out over the Bacchian Fields. Selanja handed Jeena the binoculars.

  "Look to the horizon."

  In the distance, she could see an enormous cloud of dust and smoke moving toward them.

  "They're close. They should reach the fields by nightfall.” She passed the binoculars to David.

  "I have sent Ghannon to inform the regent and order the military on full alert,” Selanja said. “All not on duty are to remain in their barracks."

  "Are the preparations ready?"

  "Yes. I have seen to the clearing and to the work at the lake,” Halamesh answered. “The barricades are in place. All is prepared."

  "Good. I want to be able to move at a moment's notice. Sargon, I want your rifle division ready to depart immediately. David, get your cavalry together but don't mount up just yet. Prepare to move to the clearing on my orders. Selanja, see to your commanders. Make sure that the main army is properly outfitted and armed."

  They departed to their tasks, all but Sargon.

  "You left early this morning, licente. Selanja and I worried that perhaps you had regretted your decision to join us."

  "No, not at all,” she said, smiling. “I just felt too good to sleep. I wanted to walk in the morning air and enjoy the day. I regret nothing about last night."

  "Then I am glad. I will see to my duties."

  "Wait. Licente—you called me that last night. What does it mean?"

  Sargon grinned. “It means ‘tigress’ in the old language. It seemed ... fitting somehow."

  Jeena felt herself blushing. “I see. Well, we both have work to do."

  "Yes, General,” he replied, saluting.

  Jeena stood alone on the parapet, gazing through the binoculars. So, I've finally found a place to call home, and yet I still can't escape war. Am I still soldier enough to fight? And even if I am, and manage to survive this, then what will I do?

  She watched as the slowly approaching horde drew ever nearer the city. It was no use worrying about tomorrow now. Whatever future she had, it lay beyond that.

  She went to the armory and donned the protective body armor of the Pyros military, the sign of the mountain prominently displayed on the chest guard. She looked closely at the black helmet but instead chose the highly stylized headdress of the Babylonian high command, with its flared nosepiece and long cheekguards. If it was slightly less utilitarian than the other, so be it—she was general of both armies and wanted her troops to recognize that fact.

  Clasping a sword to her side, she picked up the MAAD and rode out to the barricades.

  She found Sargon and Ghannon together, inspecting the rows of crossed pikes that ran the length of the Bacchian Fields.

  "Is everything ready?” she asked, dismounting.

  "Yes,” Ghannon replied. “I am leaving now to position the ammo runners and messengers. If you will excuse me."

  Jeena walked with Sargon along the barricade, speaking encouragement to the men as they went. The cloud of dust loomed dark and foreboding in the distance.

  "Do you know, General, that I have never seen an Afridi? All I know of them I have gleaned from stories and from Ghannon, and his opinion is understandably biased. You have been among them. What sort of men are they?” Sargon asked.

  "Determined,” she said. “Convinced of the righteousness of their cause and certain that the way to their god lies through your destruction."

  "Why does their god wish to destroy us? He would be welcome here, and treated with all the honor of the other gods."

  "I'm sure he would, but the Rosh-dan will never allow it. To them, the belief in other gods is a great evil, one that must be abolished.” She stopped and gazed through the pikes. “They don't just want Uruk, Sargon, or even the Confederacy, they want the entire planet, all of Ararat under their rule and under that of their God—and that's just for starters."

  "I do not understand this. To kill in the name of a god is a great evil,” he replied, “and to wish to enslave an entire world is madness. It is a city of madmen we fight."

  "No, not all are mad or evil. I believe most are kind and decent. One, especially, took great risk to help me, and I still worry about what happened to him. Those people just want to live in peace, but that will never happen as long as the Rosh-dan rule."

  Sargon looked back across the field. “I would not have my city ruled by such people, tappu."

  "Neither would I."

  A messenger came up to them, shouting and pointing west. “General, the enemy has halted. A rider is approaching."

  Through the binoculars, Jeena saw that the juggernaut had stopped; the large cloud of dust was settling about a mile from the barricade. She could see men and kytars spread across the width of the plain and stretching all the way back to the low hills, where a city of tents and machinery was being erected. Between the barricades and the Rosh-dan, a single rider approached, a white flag in his hand.

  "Looks like they want to parley,” she said. “Will you join me for a ride, Sargon?"

  They met the emissary of the Rosh-dan in the center of the field. Jeena recognized him at once—it was Serug. Her own face was hidden under the elaborate faceplate of the Babylonian helmet.

  "The Holy Cities of the Afridi and the Elder Council of the Rosh-dan demand the immediate surrender of the Babylonian Confederacy and all of her people,” he demanded.

  "For what cause does the Rosh-dan make such an illegal request of a chartered colony?” Jeena asked.

  * * * *

  Serug peered quizzically at the speaker, her voice strangely fa
miliar but her face obscured by the gleaming helmet.

  "We do not request, we command. Our cause is just. Babylon is an evil and debased society, wholly and irretrievably. Thy people defy the one true God and flaunt His laws. We have endured this moral outrage at our doors long enough. Thou wilt cede to our demands or fall utterly to the Army of God!"

  "And what are your demands?” Jeena asked.

  Serug smiled. It was as the k'laq had said—once the idolaters saw the power and might of the Rosh-dan they would quickly sue for peace. They were truly a corrupt people, completely devoid of honor.

  "Thy army will surrender immediately and lay down all weapons. The leaders of the Confederacy will sign a Condition of Manifest Destiny, renouncing their Union Charter and turning all property, lands and right of rule over to the Council of the Rosh-dan."

  "And what of our people, and our way of life?"

  "Thy people have been corrupted by their leaders. Those who recant their pagan beliefs and accept the one true God will be sent for re-education and in time allowed to live as members of our community. Those who do not will be dealt with more severely. These are our conditions for peace."

  Sargon stirred in his saddle but remained silent.

  "Your demands are unjust, but it is not my place to accept or refuse them,” the woman replied. “The Regent of Uruk leads the Confederacy, and it is her decision. We will take this to her for her consideration."

  "Do as thou wilt,” he replied tersely. “We will wait only until dawn. Thou hast until then.” He turned his mount around.

  "Wait. It might help to convince the regent if you could grant a small favor, a token of good faith."

  "What token is this?” he asked, suspiciously.

  "It is nothing. We have lost a scout, a young woman we believe you may be holding. If you would return her to us, it would go far in showing the regent the magnanimous nature of your superiors. Consider it an act of mercy."

  "Yes, I know of this woman,” he answered grimly. “Scout, thou says? Thou means spy. All spies face interrogation by the inquisitors of the Rosh-dan, and her questioning is not yet over. Thou wishes for her return? Accept the conditions of surrender and it may be. Thou hast until first light."

  * * * *

  They rode back to the barricades, Jeena leaving Sargon to see to the final preparation while she went to the city to meet with the regent. She noticed that the older woman's right hand was bandaged.

  "It is a trifle. Do not concern yourself,” she said. “What news have you?"

  Jeena repeated Serug's demands.

  "He asks us to give up our entire civilization and all that we believe? Nothing else?"

  "If we fight he may take all that anyway, as well as the lives of the people,” Jeena reminded her.

  "True. It seems we can either live as slaves or die as martyrs. Not much of a choice, is it?"

  "No, it isn't."

  "No. Well, we cannot give in to his demands, so all that is left to us is war."

  "Yes, Regent. I will convey your answer to him."

  "Good.” She seemed hesitant, gently rubbing the bandages on her hand.

  "Was there anything else?"

  "I hoped we might speak a while."

  "I'd be happy to, but with the enemy at our doorstep, I'm not sure this is the time."

  "You are right, of course, but such is the precarious nature of our future that such a time might never occur."

  "Very well. What did you want to talk about?"

  A smile crept over the woman's face. “The nature of the universe, but as we are pressed for time, I'll focus on one subject—your birth. You were raised in an orphanage, I know, but do you have any information about your mother?"

  Jeena was taken aback by the directness of the question. “No, not really. She never gave her name. ‘Garza’ was the surname of one of the sisters."

  "So, nothing about where you were born? Your father? Any knowledge of siblings?"

  "No. I'm sorry, Regent, but why are you asking? What difference does it make?"

  "None, I'm sure, but you humored me once, humor me one more time. Relate to me anything you were told about your mother and your birth, even if it seems inconsequential.” She motioned toward the chair.

  Jeena sighed as she sat. “They never told me much, and after a while, you learn to just stop asking. It was a Saturday—visiting day for couples looking to adopt. The nuns said it was more hectic then usual. There had been a fire nearby the night before, and police and emergency crews were blocking the street."

  "Go on."

  "I know I was only a few days old when she showed up at the orphanage. No one knew how she got in—for the children's protection security is very tight."

  "Did your mother mention anything to them about your birth, or why she was giving you to them?"

  "No. She didn't say much, apparently, except that she couldn't keep me and had to leave very soon. As for my birth, the only thing they ever mentioned was that I had no marks of birth trauma, so they thought I may have been a c-section."

  "And your mother—did they tell you anything concerning her?"

  "Just that she was exhausted and dirty, as though she had traveled a long distance on foot. They said she had a slight accent, and thought she might have been born off-world. They took her to the kitchen in the basement and fed her, and offered to let her stay a while, but she refused. Sister Caroline, the one who accepted me from her, said she turned to refill my mother's plate and she was gone. No one ever saw her again. That's it. That's all I know."

  "And she has never tried to contact you?"

  "No. Regent, really..."

  "All right. I'm done prying. Please return to your duties, and thank you again for indulging me."

  * * * *

  After Jeena left, Elaina stood and slowly paced the room, her head bowed in thought. A solitary figure stepped out from behind a hidden panel.

  "You heard?” the old woman asked.

  "Yes,” Aramis replied.

  "You are a shimhatu of the sixth rank,” the old woman said. “Use your training. What did you learn from her words?"

  Aramis thought a moment before answering. “The mother was running from someone or something, that much is obvious. Yet I do not believe the unknown agents were after her—she seemed more afraid of the child being caught than herself. She chose the orphanage deliberately, so if she was trying to hide the infant, it is unlikely she had any connection to the Arian Christian religion that could be traced."

  "Very good. Yet there is more. Consider: a woman has a child by surgery, yet almost immediately after the birth leaves on foot, carrying the infant. There is some strength there. After arriving in a strange city, she locates an orphanage in an area crawling with police, yet is able to slip past security and enter and leave silently and unseen. These are singular skills, are they not?"

  Aramis frowned. “Military?"

  "Just so. It seems the mother may have been a soldier like her daughter."

  "Is that important?"

  "Everything concerning her birth is important, if we are to lift the mists that surround her. But already intriguing possibilities arise.” She lifted her hand against more questions. “No, daughter, not yet. Truly, I have more questions than answers still."

  Aramis bowed. “As you wish. I must attend to my duties.” At the door she turned. “It's a shame we know nothing about the father."

  "Let us hope she has one,” Elaina muttered when her daughter was gone.

  * * * *

  The commanders met in the war room to discuss the Rosh-dan's demands and the regent's response. David had not yet dressed out in the Pyros body armor, but the Babylonian officers presented in full battle gear. They wore steel breastplates embossed in brass with a roaring tigra, and thick leather kilts made of overlapping straps. Heavy sandals laced up their legs, and each officer was armed with a long broadsword.

  Jeena repeated what Serug had demanded, watching as David's face first registered hope
at the news that Sarah still lived then collapsed when told of Jeena's failure to obtain her release.

  "Is there nothing more we can do, Jeena? Couldn't we attempt a raid?"

  "No, David. We don't have the manpower to try it, even if we knew she was still alive. I'm sorry. I tried."

  It was decided that he and Selanja would go with Jeena in the morning to deliver the regent's answer. The meeting was adjourned, but David was still unwilling to let the subject of Sarah die.

  "Let me go after her. I will take just a few men."

  "No. I wish I could do more, but I can't risk it."

  "But, Jeena..."

  "Come, David,” said Ghannon, putting a hand on David's shoulder. “There is nothing more she can do."

  * * * *

  Jeena paced her room alone. She could still hear David's pleading voice, still see the crushed looked on his face as she condemned Sarah to the torture of the Rosh-dan inquisitors. There was obviously more to his relationship with her than he had let on.

  If only I weren't in command. A small raid might work, if they were quick and silent enough. If only...

  But no. She was in command. She was commander-in-chief of an army facing enormously superior numbers. She could not risk more lives for one soldier who might already be dead. Her decision had been the right one. Yet that fact brought her no peace.

  Dawn was still hours away when she mounted up and rode to the barricades. Halamesh greeted her. He seemed anxious and preoccupied.

  "You are early. The sun will not rise for many hours yet,” he said.

  "I can't sleep. And you should be at the lake. I don't want to take any chances the Rosh-dan may not wait till dawn."

  "My men are in position. I will join them shortly.” He looked around nervously. “Come, there is coffee farther along the barricade. I will walk you to it."

  "I don't need coffee, I'm tense enough. Where is Ghannon? He should be posted here."

  "He is around, I am sure. Perhaps we can find him. I will walk with you."

  "No, its all right. I—"

  The noise of distant gunfire suddenly erupted from the direction of the Rosh-dan encampment.

  "What the...? Halamesh, what the hell is going on here?"

  He shrugged, but his face belied the attempt at innocence.