Tigra

  He sighed in relief. “Ma'am, you have no idea. You're the head of government here, right?'

  "That is correct."

  "Then I might as well tell you this now, since you're the one who's going to have to do something with her."

  "Go on."

  He opened the case and removed a sheet of paper.

  "This is a detailed chemical analysis of her blood."

  She smiled. “I'm afraid I would not know how to interpret it."

  "Then let me explain. All known life, from the simplest viruses to man himself, is composed of various combinations of the same twenty amino acids—no more. It is a statement of scientific fact that holds true throughout the galaxy."

  "I believe you."

  He shook the paper in his hand. “General Jeena Garza carries the genetic coding for twenty-five separate amino acids."

  The old woman frowned. “How is that possible?'

  "It isn't. I mean, it isn't possible in nature."

  "Young man, what exactly are you saying?"

  He replaced the paper in the case and removed another. “I ran a chromosome scan on her. There's no easy way to say this. Her entire genetic code has been engineered. She's a horror."

  The regent stepped back, her eyes widening.

  "No! That is impossible!"

  "Regent, I wish I was wrong."

  "No. You are mistaken. You must be. She is a grown woman. If she was ... There would have been another plague. She would not have been allowed to live to adulthood."

  "I don't have an answer for that. Maybe she did cause a second plague in the Union and we never heard of it. Maybe she escaped somehow and that's how she ended up here."

  "But who could have done such a thing? Why would they even try?"

  "I don't know. But I've repeated the studies a dozen times and the results are the same. Apparently, whoever they were, they weren't happy repeating the work of Obsidia, they wanted to do them one better. These genes haven't just been tampered with, they're entirely artificial."

  * * * *

  Elaina sat down, her mind reeling. So, this is the darkness I could not see; this is the evil she carries within. Madmen! Weren't eight billion dead the first time enough? What possibly could have driven them to try it again? And who? With all the precautions in place throughout the galaxy, who could have done this?

  The young doctor continued. “Twenty-three paired chromosomes, thirty thousand separate genes, three billion base pairs—all built from scratch. In effect, they've created an oxymoron—an alien human being. But don't ask me why."

  "How is she different?” she asked numbly.

  He shrugged. “There's no way of telling. Physically, she's no different from any other woman—a routine exam wouldn't show anything unusual. Although, if her recent recovery is any indication, then one thing is certain—she's very hard to kill."

  "Who knows of this?"

  "No one yet. I was just about to take my results and the tissue samples to the chief of staff. At the very least, she'll have to be totally quarantined, though who knows what damage she may have already done. We could all be infected by some virus and not even know it.” His fear was evident.

  "Yes,” she agreed, “at the very least.” As with the horrors of old, you are blameless, yet that innocence will not save you. What would they do, even those who love you? Could they overcome the fear and loathing that even now stirs within me? Would they cast you out—or worse?

  Elaina stood, sighing deeply. “You were right to tell me of this. We must act swiftly. You have all the samples here?"

  He nodded. “Yes, they're all in this case, along with the test results."

  "Very good. Bring it. I will personally escort you to the temple hall, where you may present your finding to the medical staff and the commanders.'

  "Uh ... yes, ma'am."

  He turned to lift the case and Elaina's hand shot out with practiced skill, grasping his neck at the first vertebrae. He turned in surprise and found that her foot had somehow become entangled in his. There was only the faintest expression of disbelief as he fell, his own bodyweight snapping his neck as she held him in her grip.

  I am sorry, for you were only doing what you thought right. May your God embrace you.

  Opening the case, she began the methodic destruction of all the samples. She would send shimhatu to dispose of the body.

  Created by the insanity of man or the hand of the Goddess, you are the deliverer. You must bring forth the new age. I will allow nothing to prevent that from happening. Nothing.

  * * * *

  The next days were spent reviewing the troops and examining the damage to the city walls. The gates had taken a beating—they were bent and twisted, the center one worse than the others. Ghannon had ordered them strengthened with oak beams, but Jeena felt the changes would make the gate unusable, and modified the structure in order to make them serviceable to her own troops.

  The force of the rushing water had created a wide crack in the wall that ran along the entire length of the north face. Even if it withstood another attack, it was now unstable and would have to be replaced.

  They all agreed their best hope was to engage the enemy before the Rosh-dan could reach the weakened gates and wall; any retreat behind them would be left as a last resort. Jeena proposed a closed, three-line defense—archers, cavalry and infantry, all aligned west of the center gate, again in an effort to force the Rosh-dan to fight in the mire of the lower ground.

  David would once again lead his Pyros cavalry—his leadership and sacrifice in the first battle had created such love and loyalty among the men and women of his command she felt certain they would follow him to the gates of hell itself. She elected to stand with Ghannon and Selanja and lead the Babylonian army. They all made it clear they felt she was still too weak to fight and tried to persuade her to remain in the rear, but she had stood firm.

  "What would you have me do, sit on the wall and cheer? And if the battle is lost, then what? Do any of you really want to consider what Jacob would do to me if he captured me alive? I know I don't. No, if we win this final battle then I want to be a part of it. If we lose—well, better I die fighting with the people I love than at the hands of a madman."

  On the third day of her recovery, Jeena was called to the regent's apartment. She found the old woman sitting alone on the balcony. She noticed that her hand was still bandaged.

  "It is a slight wound,” the older woman explained, “but for some reason it will not heal. But let us turn to more important matters.” She sighed. “I wish we had more time together, Jeena. There is so much you must learn, and so many questions I still have concerning you.

  "But our time together draws short, and I can do little to help you, I'm afraid, except perhaps to set you on the right path, for I have seen my death, and it is near."

  She halted Jeena's protests.

  "It shall be as I have seen. Do not trouble yourself. I have lived a long and happy life and have no regrets, save one—that I will not see the fruition of your destiny."

  "And what is my destiny?"

  "That lies beyond my sight. But there is a power in you, Jeena, such as I have never felt in all my life. You are unaware of it, for you have walled it off, buried it deep within your subconscious. But though sealed away, this power is not idle; it grows even as we speak. It will continue to gain in strength until finally a day will come when you can no longer contain it. On that day it may consume you, unless you first learn to control it."

  Jeena shook her head. “I don't understand."

  "You will. I cannot help you in this, but I may be able to help you help yourself. Am I right in assuming you wish to stay here in Uruk should we win this war?"

  "Yes.” But how does she know that? I've only just decided myself.

  "Then it shall be. This morning I signed the necessary papers granting you citizenship."

  "Regent ... I don't know how to repay you. Thank you."

  "I ask only a small favor in r
eturn. If we should pass through this dark time to days of happiness and light, promise me you will enter into the training of the Temple of Ishtar. In its teachings and disciplines, you will find the strength necessary to control the power inside you."

  "How can I agree to that? I am not a believer."

  "I do not ask for your faith. I ask only that you take the training of the shimhatu. Perhaps you think of them only as courtesans, and for those of the first rank you would not be so wrong. But do not take lightly the skills and strength of those of the upper ranks. From mother to daughter, we have kept alive knowledge lost to the rest of mankind through the ages. Take the training, Jeena—the rest will come in time."

  She sighed. Training as what—a palace prostitute? Can she be serious? But this is no joke to her, and she obviously means well for me. And yet I don't know what she thinks I can learn or what she believes my destiny is. But I do want to stay in Uruk, and taking the training would give me time to consider my next step. I suppose it wouldn't hurt anything. Then why do I feel like such a fraud?

  "Very well, Regent, since it means so much to you. I give you my word. If we defeat the Rosh-dan then I will take the training of the temple, but I don't promise to become a shimhatu, and I can't guarantee anything will come of it."

  Elaina smiled. “Thank you. You have lifted a great worry from an old woman's heart. And as to what will come of it, who can tell? Still, in the training of the sisterhood you may find the strength to face the destiny that awaits you."

  * * * *

  Following her meeting with the regent, Jeena was called to the wall above the center gate. Selanja was there, watching as a lone rider below them came to a halt. A white flag hung limp in his left hand.

  "I am sent by Jacob, K'laq of the Rosh-dan and Commander of the Army of God. The city of Uruk and all of Babylon stands in the face of utter destruction. If thou would not see all thy people slain, then lay down thy weapons and surrender at once. I am to await thy answer."

  He yawned and looked away, as if bored with all this formality.

  Jeena peered closely at the rider. Her vision was still cloudy, but she recognized the sneer and haughty manner immediately.

  "Rhiannan, hurry. Under the cover of the wall, lend me your bow,” she whispered to the archer at her side.

  "Jeena, you cannot,” Selanja protested. “He is a messenger, and under protection of the white flag."

  The weapon in hand, Jeena notched the arrow swiftly and drew it back. The arrow flew, grazing the kytar's flank and causing it to rear, sending the rider flailing to the ground. The mount galloped away to the west as the rider stood, hobbling slightly and staring in fright at the women above him.

  "Now that I have your attention, Esau,” Jeena shouted, “you can have my answer. There will be no surrender—now or ever. To the last man and woman will the people of Babylon fight, not only in Uruk but in every city of the Confederacy. There can be no victory for you here, only more death for your men and more suffering for those waiting in New Jerusalem. Tell that to Jacob. Tell that to the madman who leads you. Now, go, and get out of bowshot as quickly as you can!"

  Esau turned and began jogging back to his camp, a noticeable limp in his stride.

  Selanja stared at her with disapproval.

  "Oh, it's all right. He and I go way back,” Jeena said. “Besides, now we have a little time."

  David and Ghannon were informed, but Jeena told them to remain in the empty warehouses that had been converted into temporary barracks. Unlike the regular wooden barracks, these buildings were made of stone and offered better protection against the anticipated fires. The two women would remain on the wall to monitor the Rosh-dan's movements. They had two working communicators left, and David and Jeena wore them. The fire-spotters and water brigades were out and ready.

  "If they start a ground attack we'll call you out,” Jeena said to David through the communicators, “but if the aerial bombings begin I want you and your men inside. Selanja and I will make for the war room."

  Selanja stood on a parapet, looking through the binoculars. “There's a lot of movement going on in the Rosh-dan camp, but I can't see much through the dust. Looks like they may be moving some of the large machines."

  Several minutes of silence followed, broken suddenly by a roaring sound above them.

  "Get down!” Jeena shouted.

  A fiery blast exploded in the plaza behind them, sending burning shards in all directions. The two women were up and running in an instant, making for the war room just below the eastern wall. They reached the door as a second projectile burst against the stairs.

  "David, it's begun,” Jeena said.

  "We're hearing it,” David replied through the communicator.

  "Selanja and I are in the war room. You and Ghannon keep your men inside. Let the fire brigades do their job."

  "You won't have to tell us twice,” he shouted over the roar of a large explosion.

  For the next hour a thundering inferno fell over the city, with the army able to do nothing but wait it out. The bells and horns of the fire brigades could be heard as the Babylonians fought desperately to save their burning city. When at last the explosions halted, they were replaced by the sounds of boulders crashing into the city walls.

  The two women stepped out into the plaza to see fires blazing all around them, and fire crews desperately dashing from one to the next. Jeena stopped one of the racing fire captains as behind her the city walls shuddered from the new attack. His face was dark with soot, and his clothes were soaked through.

  "Can your people control the fires?” she asked.

  "Yes, General, but much will be lost. The Temple of Ishtar is engulfed in flames."

  Behind her, she heard a loud groan. She turned to see one of the graceful towers of the temple sway then topple to the ground with a thunderous crash. The fire-captain excused himself and, together with a water brigade, ran to the threatened building.

  Another crash reverberated against the wall, then a second, and a third. Suddenly, the entire western half collapsed. Jeena and Selanja gazed out onto the Bacchian Fields.

  "David, Ghannon, the wall is gone,” she shouted into the communicator. “Get your men out now."

  The barrage ended as the soldiers of Babylon began pouring into the plaza. Jeena ordered the gates open, and they rushed through, rapidly setting up the defensive line she had arranged. Dust rose in the distance as the Rosh-dan began their advance.

  Jeena stood in the center of the archery line, only a hundred yards from the now-ruined walls. Fifty yards behind were David and what was left of his cavalry, the kytars stomping and snorting and ready for battle. At the ruined wall stood Ghannon and Selanja with the rest of the Babylonian army, the final defense of the city of Uruk.

  Looking back, Jeena could just see Selanja, her long blond hair flowing in the wind. She thought again of Sargon and Halamesh and Samson, and gripped her sword hilt until a trickle of blood ran from her still-raw palm.

  "Ready!” she shouted down the line.

  The archers notched their arrows in their bows.

  "Aim!"

  Seven thousand arms extended, bowstrings drawn. The charging, screaming enemy came within range.

  "Fire!"

  The arrows sang, and seven thousand Rosh-dan fell dead.

  The archers now fired at will, dropping men and kytars as they steadily retreated to the cavalry line. When the enemy had closed half the distance, Jeena gave the order for the charge. David and his troops flew by the archers and crashed into the advancing horde.

  She immediately ordered the archers to the wall and called Selanja and her men up. The two women watched as David's cavalry drove into the center of the Rosh-dan's line, dividing them in half.

  "Now!” Jeena shouted. “For Uruk! For Babylon! For freedom!"

  Swinging her sword, she ran headlong into the mass of the enemy, Selanja and Ghannon beside her.

  She avoided the thrust of the first soldier, driving her bl
ade deep into his chest. Selanja swept her unit to the east as Ghannon and Jeena fought side-by-side, cutting a path into the attacking enemy. Bodies fell at their feet.

  A Rosh-dan soldier armed with a pike thrust at Ghannon, missing. He fell back in agonized terror as a sword separated his spear arm from his body. Another wielding a two-handed axe swung at Jeena but misjudged, burying the blade into the back of a screaming comrade. He gaped in open-mouthed shock at his mistake before he, too, fell to the ground, headless.

  They continued their relentless assault, hacking and thrusting through to the main body of the Rosh-dan army. Such was the ferocity of their attack that many of the enemy went around them rather than face the grim death they were delivering.

  * * * *

  Jeena finished her man with a thrust to the heart and wiped the sweat from her brow. In the distance, she saw a Rosh-dan soldier drive a pike into David's kytar. The animal crashed to the ground with David pinned under him. With a cry, she ran to him. Her sword sang as she cut through the dense mass of attackers between them.

  When she reached David he was standing but lame, fighting off two of the enemy that had pounced on him. Leaping to his side, she drew off one of them, a swarthy, evil-looking man whose hair and beard were as black as soot. He was skilled with a sword, and they slashed and parried, moving around each other as the larger battle raged about them.

  Jeena saw an opening and dove inside his thrust but slipped on the wet ground, falling. Her adversary saw her error and swung his blade. Only her quick reflexes saved her life, but his blow cut a slash across her back. She leapt to her feet, and as she did, her steel breastplate fell away, the straps having been severed by the stroke.

  Gaping for an instant at her bare breasts, the Rosh-dan gasped. Jeena flicked her sword, and he gasped again, this time grabbing at his throat as bright blood spurted from between his fingers. He fell dead to the ground.

  "Bernd would've been proud!” David called out to her as he finished his man.