Tigra

  Jeena ran to his side, putting her arm around his waist to brace him.

  "Can you walk?” she asked.

  They scanned the chaos before them. The battle was going badly. The Rosh-dan were just too numerous. As many as they cut down, more came in from behind. The enemy had set wagons filled with pitch on fire, and were rolling them through the Babylonian line with soldiers following. Many of the wagons had fallen over, and fires blazed all around. The air was thick with oily smoke.

  "Walk to where?” David asked.

  She met his gaze in mutual understanding. “Good point. I suppose this is as good a place as any to make our stand."

  He nodded. “That sounds good to me.” He extended his hand to her. “Awful glad to have met you, Jeena Garza."

  Jeena gripped his hand in her own.

  "The feeling is mutual, David Proverst."

  A unit of Rosh-dan rushed towards them.

  "Till the end then."

  "Till the end."

  Chapter 26

  At the genetic level, a species is nothing more than the accumulation of possibilities. As with any statistical causality, some possibilities occur more frequently than others; some are advantageous, others injurious. If all the best possibilities in the human genome were to be expressed in a single individual, he would be as far in advance of us as we ourselves are from our Neanderthal cousins.

  From a lecture given at the 20th annual Interplanetary Genetic Symposium

  Selanja saw the Pyros soldier fall to the blow, his head bowed forward. The Rosh-dan was about to deliver the fatal stroke when she swung, cutting through his abdomen and driving him screaming to the ground. A slash from her blade, and he was silent.

  She lifted the fallen man up—it was Bernd. An ugly gash ran across his brow.

  "Are you all right?” she asked.

  "Hey, beautiful, good to see you again,” he said, leering at her in spite of the wound.

  "Yes, you are all right,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  Suddenly, from behind the enemy lines, came shrill screams, growing louder and repeating throughout the Rosh-dan. Selanja gripped her sword.

  "What is happening?"

  Bernd stood and looked back out over the battlefield, trying to peer through the smoke and mists. Deep within the main body of the Rosh-dan army something was moving, slicing through the enemy and scattering them.

  "They're being attacked,” he said, his voice filled with wonder, “from behind."

  "Attacked? By whom?"

  "I can't see,” he said, still trying to make sense of the chaotic scene. “It looks like ... No, it can't be! Look out!"

  A large golden form flew between them, leaping onto a Rosh-dan soldier who had been set to strike at their backs. Five razor-sharp claws swept through the man's neck, and he fell lifeless to the ground.

  "Tigras!” Selanja shouted.

  Now they could see them all around, thousands of animals, racing wildly in all directions but attacking only the Rosh-dan. They were a yellow cyclone of death, hurling at the enemy, little more than a blur. They could only make out slashing claws and dripping fangs, and men dropping like unstrung puppets.

  Unable to fight against this new and inhuman enemy, the Rosh-dan began to scatter, then to retreat. As the tigras continued their merciless attack, the retreat became a rout.

  * * * *

  Jeena swung her sword again, cutting through the man's chest. Two more came up behind him. There was no end to them, and both she and David were tiring, bleeding from wounds great and small.

  It will soon be over, thought David. He hoped Sarah could make it to one of the southern cities. Jeena was right—the Babylonians would never surrender. Jacob would have to fight for every inch of the Confederacy, and eventually, they would defeat him.

  The thought made him smile. He wished he could live to see that day.

  He parried the blow from his man, catching sight of a yellow blur as he did. It moved too fast for him to make out clearly, but suddenly the Rosh-dan went down screaming. Then he saw why—a golden tigra had its fangs buried in the man's neck.

  The man fighting Jeena saw it, too. With a cry, he dropped his sword and ran a few paces, only to be dragged down from behind by a second animal.

  "My God!” David cried. There was a maelstrom of animals around them now, a slashing, swarming sea of yellow death. “Jeena, do you see it? Do you see it?"

  She stood swaying, gripping her bloody sword. She had seen it, and looked in puzzlement at the action around her. Suddenly, she threw her sword to the ground and whirled about, desperately searching.

  "Where do you think they came from? Jeena..."

  * * * *

  But she did not hear him. Her arms limp at her side, her legs trembling, she began to walk toward a near hill. Her stride became faster until it was a trot, and then she was running, racing, blind through her tears, toward the top of the hill.

  Through the mists of smoke and fire he had come over the crest of that hill, like a king from some ancient time. He stood, proud and erect, fire blazing in his gold-speckled eyes. Jeena reached the hill and flung herself on him, clinging to him and weeping like a child.

  A moment later, David limped up behind her.

  "I don't believe it."

  "Hello, David."

  "Samson? But we thought you were dead."

  "I know, Mordachi told me. I'm afraid it was a case of mistaken identity—but just barely."

  Jeena stuttered through her tears, still holding onto him, unwilling to let go.

  "I th-thought I had lost you. All this time..all this..."

  "I'm sorry, Jeena. I came as soon as I could, but as you can see, I've been busy."

  David looked out over the army of tigras still fighting.

  "That seems an understatement."

  Jeena pulled her face from his neck and held his head in her hands; slowly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. David grinned.

  "What was that?” Samson gasped when she finally broke the embrace.

  "A kiss ... sort of."

  "I know that, I just mean ... why?"

  "Because I love you, Samson. I love you so very much."

  His mouth drew back in a wide smile. “You do? Really? But I'm not human."

  Her laughter now mingled with her tears. “So what do you want me to do, grow a tail? Because if that's what it takes then I'll have one implanted. I don't care if you're human. I don't care if you have fur and paws. I don't care about any of that. Just please tell me that you love me, too."

  With a roar, he stood and lifted her in his arms, holding her and spinning her around.

  "Love you? I have loved you all of my life!” He lowered her to the ground and pressed his lips to hers, his eyes gleaming. “Is that how it's done?"

  "We'll work on it,” she said with a laugh.

  "Ahem ... I hate to break this up, but I think the Rosh-dan would like to go home now.” David nodded to the fighting below.

  The battlefield had become a slaughterhouse. Forty thousand tigras, with a speed and agility unmatched by any human, had fallen upon the desperate soldiers of the Rosh-dan with pitiless fury. Razor-sharp claws and projecting fangs tore into soft flesh, rending it in an instant before moving on to the next victim. Jeena watched as retreating men threw themselves to the ground in an act of complete surrender, only to be leapt upon by these terrible angels of death.

  "Samson, please, it's over. Can't you stop this?” she begged.

  "I'll try, but it's easier to start a thing than to stop it."

  He sat down and held his head back, closing his eyes and humming softly. They watched as he visibly relaxed, his breathing becoming deep and regular. David and Jeena stared in puzzlement as he sank into a trance.

  At first they could see no effect, but slowly the attack of the tigras began to grind to a halt. One charging animal sprang upon a screaming, fleeing soldier, dragging him to the ground, only to then walk away, leaving the hysterical man in
the mud, unnerved but unharmed. Throughout the Bacchian Fields the tigras, apparently satisfied with their revenge on those who had sought to annihilate them, halted the massacre and began to move slowly to the north, toward the Rosh-dan camp.

  Samson opened his eyes and shook himself, as though awakening from a dream.

  "Telepathy?” David asked in wonder.

  "Yes, though not in the way humans tend to think of it. I know, David. I know what happened to my people. I know why they lost their ability to speak and, over the centuries, their reason."

  The tigras entered the area of the Rosh-dan camp and began encircling it.

  "What are they doing?” David asked.

  "They will not harm them, but neither will they allow them to leave,” Samson explained. “Not until they give up Jacob. For his role in the genocide against my people, he will answer to me."

  Ghannon ran up, followed closely by Selanja and Bernd. On seeing Samson, Ghannon drew his sword.

  "It's all right, Ghannon,” David said. “It will take some explaining, but this is an old friend."

  Jeena motioned Selanja closer. “You asked me once if I had lost someone I loved, and I told you no. I lied. I had lost him, but now I've found him once again."

  Selanja wrinkled her brow in confusion. “I do not understand, tappu."

  "I think she means me,” Samson said. He held out his paw to the astonished woman. “My name is Samson."

  Selanja froze. Then slowly, like a child who, on returning home from school, discovers that her stuffed animal has come to life, she began to grin, then to giggle uncontrollably. She grasped his paw warily but warmly, still in disbelief.

  "And this is Ghannon,” Jeena said to Samson. “A brave soldier of Uruk and a great friend."

  Ghannon stood rigid, his hand still on his sword.

  "Great God Anil,” he whispered. “You are truly Ishtar returned."

  Bernd had turned ashen at the sound of Samson's voice.

  "I heard rumors in Pyros, but I didn't believe...” He teetered and fell forward, landing with a thud.

  "Is he hurt?” asked Samson, alarmed.

  Selanja went to him and turned him over. His eyes rolled in his head.

  "He is all right. Too much stimulation does this to him,” she said, grinning.

  She revived him, and they made their way back to the city.

  The Babylonians, who had been overjoyed though shocked and puzzled at the unlooked-for aid of the tigras, now stared in wide-mouthed wonder at Samson and Jeena as they strode side-by-side into the city. Many dropped to their knees at the passing of the pair, a reaction that had them both scratching their heads.

  A palace messenger met them at the crumbled walls.

  "General, the regent lies dying. She has asked for you. Please hurry."

  The messenger led them to the ruins of the Temple of Ishtar. The towers had fallen, and its once graceful dome lay in a heap of broken stone. Small fires still burned its ruined shell.

  The regent lay on a cot at the foot of the broken steps, her head bandaged and her eyes dim. Jeena knelt before her, taking her hand.

  "Please, Regent, allow them to take you to the hospital."

  "No, my child, it is too late for that. My time is ended, but I go in peace. Uruk is safe, is it not?"

  "Yes. It is just as you foresaw. There has been much damage, but we have won. The war is over."

  "Then all is well.” She gripped Jeena's hand tightly. “We are not responsible for how we enter this universe, only for our actions within it. Always remember that, child."

  "I will,” Jeena replied, puzzled.

  The old woman spied Samson, her mouth gaping in wonder.

  Jeena tried to explain. “It's all right, he won't harm you. His name is..."

  "Samson."

  "Yes, but how..."

  "Bring him to me. Quickly!"

  Jeena led Samson to the regent, introducing him. Elaina reached out, and Samson allowed her to gently touch his face.

  "Do you love him, Jeena?” the old woman asked.

  Jeena did not hesitate. “Yes, I do."

  "Then all shall come to pass.” She coughed weakly then crooked her finger to Samson. “Come closer."

  He leaned near, until his ear brushed her lips. When at last he pulled away, her eyes were fixed and her breathing had stopped.

  The commanders bowed their heads. The shimhatu in attendance wept openly and covered her body, then carried her away in reverence.

  "What was it she said to you?” Jeena asked.

  Samson looked puzzled. “I'm not sure. It didn't make a lot of sense. Let me think on it a while before I say anything."

  Chapter 27

  By this sign shall you know the Deliverer: she comes not alone. The Beast walks with her, arm in her arm, heart in her heart.

  From the Tel-Marbuk

  Holy book of the Babylonians

  Ghannon led a force of Uruk military in full battle gear to the beleaguered camp of the Rosh-dan, demanding their immediate surrender. Esau had fled with a company of his men after witnessing the onslaught of the tigras, but Jacob and the Elder Council had not understood the danger until too late, and were now trapped.

  With the army decimated and surrounded by a hostile and alien menace, the angry and rebellious survivors were quick to accept the terms and, after a brief internal skirmish, swiftly handed over their leaders. Jacob and the elders were taken to the city and imprisoned to await trial and sentencing.

  Of the half-million men who had marched on Uruk, fewer than fifty thousand remained alive to return to New Jerusalem to tell the tale.

  It was agreed that, with the regent gone, Selanja would temporarily assume control of the city, until such time as proper elections could be held. She immediately ordered repairs begun on the city walls as well as the temples and other public buildings destroyed in the war. Once news of the victory spread, masons and carpenters from all over Babylon poured into the city to offer their services.

  David became distraught on discovering that the building housing Sarah and the other convalescing wounded had been destroyed, but breathed a sigh of relief when he learned all had been evacuated prior to the building's collapse. He and Sarah were now staying in a small vacant home near the hospital. Each day they would visit and speak with the injured, aiding them in any way they could.

  Jeena and Samson were given temporary apartments in the Temple of Anil.

  A week had passed since the death of the Regent, and they had not left their apartment in that time. Selanja had given strict instructions that they not be disturbed.

  * * * *

  They lay on the floor, Jeena wrapped in a blanket. Samson held her close with his arm around her, her face nestled in the fur of his chest. The sun was just rising, the warm rays streaming through the window onto the carpet where they lay.

  "Are you all right?” he whispered.

  She stirred, but did not answer.

  "Jeena?” He felt her tremble in his arms. “What's wrong? Are you crying? I'm sorry if I did something wrong. This is all very new to me. Jeena, please say something. I need to know what you're feeling."

  She lifted her head from his chest. Her eyes were gleaming, and her lips were set tight in a wide smile. She seemed to be battling a wave of laughter that was threatening to burst from her. The effort proved too much, and the dam broke.

  "Oh, I see. You're laughing, not crying,” he said, relieved but confused. “Well, that's good. I mean, laughing is better than crying, isn't it?"

  Jeena's efforts to still her mirth only made it worse.

  "Actually, now that I think about it, I don't think you're supposed to be laughing, either."

  She threw her hand over her mouth as the intensity of the laughter increased.

  "Um ... Yeah. Listen, maybe I should point out that I'm feeling extremely vulnerable and unsure of myself right now, and your laughing isn't helping. In fact, I'm real close to crawling into a fetal position. Could you at least stop laug
hing long enough to tell me if you're all right?"

  Jeena finally got the fit of laughter under control enough to speak.

  "No, I'm not all right. I am so much better than all right, and I'm laughing because I was just as nervous and unsure as you were."

  "And now?” he asked gently.

  She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest.

  "And now I am more sure than ever that here is where I belong, by your side."

  They slept until late in the morning, then awoke to lie in the warmth of the sun and spoke of the events of the last few months.

  "You said you would tell me what happened to you when we had time to be together,” Jeena said. “Well, it looks like we have some time, so start talking."

  Samson told her of the first time he had felt the mind-link, when they were lost in the snows of the Azulz.

  "I felt it again when I tried to get the tigra to leave the Intawa's hunting grounds, but I couldn't seem to get a grip on what it was."

  "Why didn't you say anything about this before?"

  "Say what—that I thought my species was telepathic? I've read about the studies your people have performed over the years. Telepathy claims have a very sordid history in human science. You'd have laughed in my face."

  Jeena smiled. “Yes, I suppose I would have."

  He explained about the dead tigra she and David had found, and of his error in trying to contact the animal through conscious thought. He told of the days of trial and error until he had finally gained the ability to reach into the mind-link at will.

  "What is it like?” she asked.

  "Chaotic. It's a whirlwind of noise out there. If I relax, I can pick up the minds of every animal around but all at once, jumbled and incoherent. Only recently have I become adept enough to isolate an individual, though it isn't very informative, mostly just feral images—hunting and eating and mating, with no real thoughts other than those of want and need."

  "This is incredible. What you've done is nothing short of remarkable."

  "No, it's nothing. I can communicate, and they can understand me, after a fashion, but they cannot yet reason. I can control them, but I can't give them understanding. I can't return sentience to them."