Tigra

  She kissed him gently. “You realize you really are Shahaiya now, don't you? Lord of the Tigras."

  "Lord of a dying race, perhaps,” Samson replied. “They're still doomed, Jeena. Unless I can find a way to restore their sentience, they are still doomed to life as dumb beasts, stumbling blindly toward extinction on their own planet."

  * * * *

  When all had been made ready, the trial of the Rosh-dan council began. The commanders assembled in the main hall of the Temple of Anil. Ghannon and Bernd, who had made himself Selanja's unofficial aide-de-camp, brought in the prisoners and had them kneel before the tribunal. This consisted of Selanja for Uruk, as well as a representative from each city in the Confederacy. At the the end of the table sat Samson. It had been decided that Jeena, acting for the Union, would sit as adjudicator.

  She stood and spoke to the prisoners, all of whom save Jacob trembled in fear.

  "Before you sit the representatives of the Babylonian Confederacy, against whom you have waged an unjust war. It is they who shall determine your fate. It is just that they do this, for as an aggrieved people, they have both the right and the duty to judge their oppressors.” She took a document from the table and read it. “These are the crimes of which you have been found guilty: of instigating an illegal and wrongful war in violation of your Union charter; of ordering the torture and murder of innocent people, guiltless of any crime; of direct interference with CIAO and the falsification of the Five-Year Survey. For all of these crimes the sentence on any world would be death."

  The elders bowed their heads, some prostrating themselves on the floor. Only Jacob remained steady, staring defiantly at her, hatred still burning in his eyes.

  Selanja stood.

  "But it is not the way of the Confederacy to take life. Life—any life—is precious to us, and we will not violate our beliefs, even to avenge our dead. However, the power you have shown over your own people is too great to be allowed to continue. It was through your lies and propaganda that you were able to create an atmosphere of hatred between our nations, and we will not risk your return.

  "Therefore, the sentence of this tribunal against the Elder Council of the Rosh-dan is imprisonment in the city of Umar, far to the south, there to live out the remainder of your lives."

  Many of the elders saw the mercy in this sentence and thanked them profusely, their faces still pressed to the floor. Only Jacob still wore a sneer of distain on his lips.

  Jeena moved to stand before him.

  "In addition, you, Jacob, K'laq of the Rosh-dan, are held responsible for ordering the continued genocide of an innocent species, the native sentient race of Ararat—the tigras. For such a brutal and heartless crime no adequate punishment exists, but luckily your fate does not fall to me. You committed this atrocity against another race, and it is to them that you will answer."

  Samson stood erect and walked slowly from the table, his steps measured, his eyes locked with Jacob's, until he stood only an arm's length from the kneeling man. Neither spoke as they beheld each other for the first time since the altar of New Jerusalem.

  "So, it is thee who will sentence me, eh, beast?” Jacob finally spat.

  Samson nodded once.

  "And am I then to tremble before thee? Bah! I think not. Kill me if it be thy desire—I expect nothing less from an animal such as thee. But it changes nothing. Thy miserable race is doomed. My only regret is that my blade was not quicker at the altar. Do it, then, and be done! I did not hesitate to kill thy people, and I would kill thee now—thee and that whore who made thee what thou art."

  Samson roared, the sound shaking the temple walls. His fangs snapped down, and his arm swept back. Five claws, sharper than razors, gleamed icy-white from his fingertips.

  Jacob grinned, stretching out his neck to meet the blow.

  Samson let his arm fall to his side. His fangs slowly retracted.

  "No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, Jacob, I will not kill you like this, unarmed and defenseless. I will not become like you and give in to my hate. I have grown beyond you. I give you back your life, and I give your fate back to the Babylonian people. Let them keep you in their prison, and may you live long and miserably in your confinement."

  Turning his back, he went to Jeena and embraced her.

  With a strangled cry, Jacob sprang, pushing aside a guard and grabbing his sword. He lunged at the embracing couple. Instinctively, Ghannon and Bernd drew their swords and swung, both blades meeting above Jacob's shoulders at the neck. The body fell headless to floor, the stolen sword clanging beside it.

  Jeena ordered the shocked and horrified elders, some of whom had soiled themselves, away to begin their long journey to Umar. Jacob's body was removed, to be buried in an unmarked grave—none wished to make his final resting place a rallying point for the remaining Rosh-dan. To the surviving soldiers they offered amnesty and the opportunity to return home, provided they lay down their weapons and swear oaths never to take up arms again. The offer was readily accepted.

  With the dispersion of the Rosh-dan, Samson sent the tigras back to their lands in the north.

  "There is not enough game for them here, and it is too dangerous to have so many in close contact with man, though this was once their land, too."

  * * * *

  Now that the matter of the enemy was resolved and the repairs to the city well under way, Jeena and Samson had time for each other. They used it to catch up on the months they had been separated.

  She told Samson of the ride to Uruk and of the battle of the Bacchian Fields, describing the heroic deeds of all the commanders but saying little of her own activities. She spoke of all the people she had met and befriended in Uruk, and of the sorrow of losing Halamesh and Sargon. She did not shrink from relating the events of the night she had shared with Selanja and Sargon, and watched for his reaction, but he only smiled and said he was glad she had found happiness and healing. If tigras were prone to jealousy, she could see none in him.

  "You know, there was a time when I didn't want you to meet other humans,” he said. “I was so afraid of losing you. But now I see how much the time here has helped you. You are so much ... I don't know—lighter. You almost glow."

  She smiled. “I have a long way to go, but you're right, I'm happier than I've ever been. But what about you? Whatever happened to the frightened cub I once knew? You've grown, Samson. You've become a leader, strong and confident."

  He moved next to her on the couch and put his arm around her.

  "Oh, that cub is still here in some ways, but he's no longer afraid and ashamed. I've spent most of my life ashamed of what I was, and afraid I might never become more.

  "I'm not ashamed anymore, Jeena. I'm a tigra, one of the last of an old and noble race. A terrible thing happened to my people, but it doesn't take away from what they were, or what they might become again. And I'm no longer afraid. If I never become more than they were, then I will consider myself lucky—and proud."

  She nestled her head against his chest. She understood now what Selanja had felt for Sargon—Samson was her soul mate in a way no human could ever be. He was her ibru.

  * * * *

  The funeral for the regent was held in the sacred burial chamber of the Temple of Ishtar, the cleanup of which was now complete but the repairs just beginning. Several people spoke, including Aramis, her daughter and a shimhatu of high rank within the temple. She spoke of Elaina not as regent, but in her role as mother and teacher.

  Jeena was also asked to speak.

  "In the long life she lived, my time with her was only a moment, but it is one I will always cherish. She loved all of you, and made me see the beauty and splendor of your city and your culture. She made me a citizen of Uruk, and no greater gift could I have asked for."

  There was little weeping and many smiles, for Elaina had lived a long and happy life and had died the way she had lived—in defense of the city she loved.

  With the burial of the regent, the time for Jeena's trainin
g began.

  * * * *

  Jeena sat back on her heels, slowly opening her eyes and steadying herself with a few deep breaths. Across from her sat Aramis, also kneeling. She was much like her mother, with the same steel-gray eyes and dignified bearing.

  "That was hard,” Jeena said, stretching the muscles of her neck.

  "Yes, you went very deep that time. You have made much progress in only a week. Your mind is as agile as it is strong."

  They were kneeling on the bare ground of a cliff overlooking the southern outskirts of Uruk. A low rumble of thunder rolled lazily in the east; the rainy season would be here soon.

  They had encamped here three weeks ago with few provisions and no tent. Aramis explained that the secrets of the temple could only be mastered by those who had first obtained true inner knowledge, something that required total concentration and no distractions. With Aramis as her guide, Jeena was exploring her own psychological makeup. It had been easy enough at first—she had undergone multiple psychological tests during her training in the Corps, and thought she knew herself pretty well. She accepted that her difficulty in forming close personal ties was due to her abandonment as a child, and that the adrenaline rush she so craved in her younger years was simply a substitute for the emotions she would not allow herself to feel.

  Then, Aramis forced her to delve deeper, dredging up dark and brooding feelings she had not known she had—needs, dreams and desires that shocked her and caused her shame. Aramis patiently helped her through these feeling, explaining that they were present in everyone.

  "There is a dark room in each of our minds, Jeena, a place where we lock away those feelings and images too vile and horrible to acknowledge, even to ourselves. But they are a part of who you are, as much as any part of you. To deny them gives them power. You must confront even the darkest part of yourself, for only then can you understand it and the processes that gave it birth. With understanding comes mastery, and with mastery comes freedom."

  * * * *

  Aramis regarded the women before her. Hers had not been an idle compliment—Jeena had come impossibly far in only a few weeks, reaching places in her mind that few shimhatu had dared to face.

  Yet, she knew there was a deeper place, a sealed room in Jeena's mind that held ... something. What was it Mother saw? Whatever it was, its power was truly frightening. She could feel its radiating strength even from a distance. It was no wonder Jeena refused to look there.

  But that day would come; the future was moving along the path her mother had set. However, the new age did not begin with the war's end. The war was immaterial, nothing more than an event to bring the Deliverer and the Beast to Uruk. These were simply the labor pains. The true birth of the age of Ishtar had yet to occur, and before it did, Jeena must be made strong enough to control the power within her.

  Thunder rolled again. Today would be their last one here. It was time to return to Uruk and continue her training.

  "We shall leave for Uruk in the morning. Selanja has given us permission to use one of the training rooms in the Temple of Anil until our own temple repairs are complete. You have only taken the first small step. The real work of training has not yet begun."

  "Somehow, I knew you were going to say that. How long does the training take?” Jeena asked.

  Aramis sighed. “You still cling to old concepts. What is time but a yardstick by which to measure the journey? If you begin walking now, you will reach so far in a year, and farther still a year hence. How far will you have traveled in a lifetime? So it is with Ishtar. The discovery has only begun."

  "Well, you've certainly inherited your mother's gift of vagueness. And what, exactly, am I supposed to discover?"

  "That is simple. The knowledge of who you are."

  "I see. And what will I do once I've discovered that?"

  "Master it."

  Chapter 28

  "As you know I have performed the Nihn-Psi, that art which allows us to feel the essence of another, and have touched the inner being of she who is called Jeena Garza. Let no other attempt this again, for in her lies a power beyond all imagining, a burning fire that has almost consumed me, and even now I am not free of the pain. She is not aware of, nor is she ready to believe in, this power. But she must be made to accept it and learn to control it. You must teach her. Do not fail, for the fate of two species rest in her hands."

  Last written instructions of Elaina, Regent of Uruk, to her daughter Ararmis

  The rainy season began, but the citywide repairs continued unabated, with skilled craftsmen from all over the Confederacy lending their services. They knew Uruk had suffered the wounds of war for them all. Soon, scaffolding and protective tarps blanketed the city, and the sounds of repairs could be heard on almost every street.

  The basement levels of the Temple of Ishtar were found to be undamaged, much to the relief of the shimhatu, for it was here that the ancient texts and manuscripts of their religion were housed. These were removed and stored in temporary storage facilities in the Temple of Shamash.

  Samson had become an instant celebrity among the Babylonians. The story of his youth with Jeena in the desert, together with his last-minute deliverance of Uruk, combined to create a tale of mythic proportions. Enthusiastic crowds greeted him wherever he went. Some even suggested building a temple in his honor, an idea he politely but firmly quashed. As the rains drizzled on, however, the novelty began to wear off; and eventually, he was able to stroll the sodden streets reasonably unmolested.

  With Jeena immersed in the training of the shimhatu, he decided to continue his own studies. All of the temples were honored to open their libraries to him, and he was soon spending most of his days with his nose buried in some book. These were not holo-books but genuine paper-and-print tomes. He loved the feel and smell of the ancient volumes, but did miss the accompanying pictures the other format provided.

  From the Temple of Ea he learned of the physical and mental development of the human child, and was pleased to find that it mirrored his own in many ways. In the Library of Shamash he studied the development of human law and logic, from Aristotle and Boole through to the latest works of Francis Saleen.

  At the Temple of Anil he enlisted the help of Ghannon in studying military strategy. For the next week, Ghannon scratched his head in amazement as Samson breezed through the books he provided. He seemed to take in whole pages at a time, and remembered everything he read.

  Samson arrived at the temple one day to find Ghannon before a table on which he had placed figures representing a primitive army. A small pile of identical pieces sat nearby.

  "What's this?” he asked.

  "A test. I have set my pieces in a battle formation. I wish to see how you would align your men in response."

  Samson studied the display for a few minutes then began placing the foot soldiers, chariots and archers rapidly in position. When he finished, he looked up expectantly.

  Ghannon frowned. “That is not the defense I would have expected from you."

  "Sorry, I may have gotten it wrong. I thought you had your men up to represent the Athenians in the Battle of Marathon, 490 B.C. in the old Earth reckoning.

  Ghannon looked up with a start. “Yes, that is correct. But yours is not the Persian response."

  "Um ... well, no. They lost that battle. I thought this might give them a better chance."

  Ghannon stared at him a moment longer before studying the arrangement again.

  "I see. Hmm ... interesting."

  Each day that week Samson arrived at the temple to find that Ghannon had prepared a new strategy problem for him to solve, representing battles from antiquity to the present. In each case, his solutions were unique, workable and very effective.

  On the last day, Ghannon reviewed Samson's latest alignment, shaking his head over his solution to the problem of boson field generators.

  "Your mind for strategy is remarkable. You seem to have the ability to see the entire battle as a whole. There is no more I can
teach you, though General Garza could no doubt expand your knowledge.” He looked wistfully at the tigra. “You know, you could earn the Sword of Anil in a short time if you so desired."

  Samson glanced at the golden sword dangling from the man's left nipple. He had no such appendage himself, but all the alternative sites he could think of were equally sensitive.

  "Ahh ... thank you, Ghannon, but I really only took this up as an intellectual exercise."

  * * * *

  In a separate room in the same temple, Jeena stood naked before three shimhatu of the sixth rank, Aramis among them.

  "Very good, Jeena,” said the eldest. “Let us try another. The third left intercostal muscle."

  Jeena closed her eyes, concentrating. A short moment later the three examiners could see the small muscle between the two ribs contract.

  For weeks she had been learning to control her body, using methods the followers of Ishtar had passed down for generations. Although she was nowhere near the skill level of the highest rank of shimhatu, she had progressed rapidly.

  She also now understood how the shimhatu had gained their reputation for sexual prowess. She was certain some of the techniques she was mastering could bring a man to his knees in pleasure. The thought made her smile.

  "I am happy to see you are enjoying your training,” Aramis said.

  She opened her eyes to see all three smiling back at her.

  "I'm sorry. I was just thinking—"

  "Yes, we know where your thoughts were,” Aramis replied. “Remember, we were once novices ourselves. And you are correct, our training does give one a certain power over the men of our species—a power that should never be abused."

  They all managed to retain an air of dignity for a few seconds before breaking out in riotous laughter.

  * * * *

  After three long months, the rainy season finally ended. Samson had worked his way through most of the temples and was now studying at the Temple of Ishtar. He had brought several books back to their apartment and was lying on the carpet reading them. Jeena lay next to him. Between her training and his studying, they had seen little of each other.