Tigra

  "I'm almost as worried about what happens if it's not,” he admitted. “You just promised these people a Pyros physician. How do you intend to get one to come here?"

  "I never promised one would live here, exactly,” she said. “All these people need is good medical care. I'm sure Mordachi can arrange for some kind of clinic to be based here. Think of all the illnesses these people suffer that modern medicine could cure. It would be an enormous boon for the tribe."

  "It would certainly take away a lot of the uncertainty from their lives. But what was all that about the doctor having to learn from Nanor?"

  "I don't want us to destroy their culture while healing their wounds,” she explained. “Whoever comes here has to be willing to respect their ways and work within them."

  "Assuming anyone comes at all. We haven't found any stones yet,” he reminded her.

  * * * *

  They walked stooped over in the area west of the village for several hours with little luck. Jeena found two very small stones; while they were valuable, they were not nearly enough for their needs.

  She straightened her aching back, and watched as Ewar combed the ground. Only Samson felt comfortable, on all fours scanning the dirt between his paws; but he had found nothing yet.

  "Okay, guys, let's take a break,” she said.

  She took a long drink from her canteen then splashed her face before leaning up against a large boulder. Ewar and Samson joined her, Samson sitting down looking dejected.

  "I guess p'toc are harder to find than I thought,” she said.

  "Yes, very hard to find, very rare,” Ewar replied.

  "Don't get discouraged. Nothing in life comes easy. We'll just have to look a little harder, that's all.” She bent to stroke Samson and spilled some of her water on the boulder. It washed away the dirt, revealing a metallic sparkle beneath.

  Hey, what the...

  Pouring more water over the spot, she rubbed away the dirt. A silver vein gleamed back at her.

  "Ewar! Ewar!” She pointed at the spot.

  He looked closely at the shiny rock and shrugged.

  "But ... but it's p'toc!” she exclaimed.

  "No, not p'toc.” He lifted the stones of her necklace. “P'toc very smooth, very pretty, see?” he asked, as though explaining to a small child. “This rock ugly. We look more.” He resumed his search of the near ground.

  Jeena slapped her forehead. Idiot! P'toc isn't the Intawa name for carborillium, only for small weathered stones of the metal. They probably form from pieces that break off larger boulders like this one, and become slowly smoothed by wind and rain. No wonder they're so rare!

  Samson was up beside her now, dancing and laughing around the huge rock.

  Ewar shook his head. It was hard to understand a god. Harder still to understand a semata.

  Chapter 31

  And the angel said to me, “Why do you wonder? I will tell you the mystery of the woman and of the beast that carries her."

  Revelation 17:2-4

  Arian Christian Bible

  Jeena and Samson stood behind Mordachi as he worked the sensors on the desk-sized monitor before him. The holo screen projected a slowly rotating image of Ararat. Suddenly, a small blinking light appeared above the planet, far in its northern hemisphere. A few minutes later, a second light materialized.

  "Well, it's begun,” Mordachi said. “They're distributing the generators."

  Two months earlier, Paul had contacted the smugglers and started the negotiations. At first they balked about the size of the order and what he offered to pay them, but it soon became clear to them that, somehow, the man had learned the true value of carborillium. Paul made it clear that, for their previous dishonesty, he was ready to contact other smuggling operations if they were unwilling to tackle the project.

  The deal was sealed when he presented them with a lump of metal weighing almost half a kilo—advance payment for the first thirty generators, with subsequent payments to be made on delivery. After that they practically fell over themselves agreeing to the conditions.

  The industriousness of the black market never ceased to amaze Jeena. Here they were in the midst of a raging civil war, yet these smugglers were “finding” enough high-tech field generators to fill an order that would raise suspicion anywhere in the galaxy—they fell off a space freighter, one smuggler offered in way of explanation. It was true that for the right price anything could be had.

  The monitor they were using to verify the generator placements was also provided by the smugglers, and was Paul's idea. Having dealt with these people, he wanted some way to supervise their work. Aware of their own reputation, the smugglers agreed.

  After the fifth light appeared, Mordachi stepped aside.

  "All right, Paul, it's all yours. Keep an eye on them and run the diagnostic tests as soon as the last one is in place. Oh—and good work."

  Feeling somewhat vindicated for his previous fleecing, Paul grinned as he took control of the viewer.

  "With a little luck we should have the last of the generators in place in five years,” Mordachi told Samson.

  "Thank you, Mordachi. None of this would have been possible without you."

  "I'm just glad we were able to help.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder, though, what we will unleash five years from now."

  "I can't say for sure,” Samson admitted. “They've been asleep for five thousand years. When the time comes, I'll be here to guide them back to wakefulness, and then we shall see."

  "We went by the Intawa clinic last week,” Jeena said. “It's wonderful. They've vaccinated the children and have set up health screenings. I even saw Nanor instructing one young doctor in the properties of certain roots. How did you ever talk them into becoming students to a shaman?"

  "Oh, it wasn't that hard, really. I merely pointed out that there were undoubtedly plant extracts unique only to Ararat, and that they had a living expert on their use right next door. Throw in new knowledge and a chance to discover a cure for some disease to a group of doctors, and stand back. As if that weren't enough, there was also the added incentive of all the new equipment the extra carborillium was bringing in."

  "So, it works out for everyone,” Samson said. “That's good."

  "Maybe not for everyone. I just received a report today of riots in New Jerusalem. I'm afraid those people are in for some tough times ahead."

  "Couldn't happen to a more deserving group,” Samson growled.

  "They weren't all bad,” Jeena said. “Most were just misled. I wonder sometimes what happened to Daniel, the young priest who aided me. I hope he's all right and things work out for him and his people."

  "I suppose you're right,” he agreed. “My revenge was aimed at the Rosh-dan. I'm satisfied with their destruction."

  "So, I guess you two will be leaving soon?” Mordachi asked.

  "Yes, Selanja needs to get back and turn over the government to the new regent, though I'll be shocked if she isn't elected,” Jeena answered.

  "And don't forget, you still have a lot of training to complete,” Samson reminded her.

  "Well, we will miss you both greatly. Jeena, you should know that I am introducing a bill in Parliament to make you commander-in-chief of the Pyros military—in absentia, of course. I believe Parliament will vote to disband the military, or at least reduce it to a skeleton force, and I would just feel better knowing there was someone to whip us into shape if the need ever arises."

  "Mordachi, I would be honored, but I don't ever intend to lead soldiers into battle again."

  * * * *

  Jeena was helping Selanja and Bernd in the stables, preparing the kytars for the long ride back to Uruk. Samson had gone to visit the tigras three days earlier and was expected back today. The people of Pyros had been wonderful and gracious hosts, but all were anxious to return to their homes. Bernd had decided to go back to Uruk as well, and David had given him his blessing.

  "Has Samson decided what he's going to do once we get b
ack?” he asked.

  "He's bringing along copies of all the translations of the tigra texts Mordachi and his people have found. He wants to learn the language and perhaps teach it to the others when they awaken,” Jeena told him.

  "Does he really think he can snap the tigras out of this mind-link?"

  "That's the plan, but we won't know anything until the generators are activated."

  Selanja was placing a bridle on a kytar when it suddenly began to stomp and whinny. Many of the other animals were acting likewise. They were trying to calm the steeds when Samson walked in.

  "Hey, fur ball, nice to see you again,” Jeena said, grinning. “You must have gotten a lot of wild tigra scent on you. You usually don't spook the kytars like that."

  "Hello, Selanja, Bernd. Ah, Jeena, could I have a word with you outside?"

  She followed him out of the stables and into the morning sun.

  "So, what's the big secret? Omigod!"

  Before her lay nine tigras, lazing in the grass.

  "Calm down, calm down,” Samson soothed. “I have them under very good control."

  "But what are they doing here?"

  "That's kind of what I want to talk to you about. I'd like to bring them back to Uruk with me."

  She frowned. The animals looked peaceful enough, but...

  "Why, Samson? I thought nothing could be done until the field was neutralized."

  "To break the connection among all the tigras, yes. But I've learned enough to work with a small number, like these nine. I purposely chose only those who demonstrated a high degree of intelligence. If I can separate them from the larger group, I believe I can teach them."

  "Why?"

  He sighed. “Jeena, in five years I'm going to have more than forty thousand very confused tigras to deal with. I'll need help if I ever hope to help them."

  "And you really think you can do this?"

  "Yes. In five years I think I can have these nine at my level."

  Jeena frowned, not completely convinced. “These guys look peaceful enough, but I don't know."

  "Not guys—girls,” he corrected. “They're all females."

  She laughed. “Oh, I see. You sure you're not just setting up some kind of tigra harem for yourself?"

  Samson's ears fell flat to his head and his whiskers bristled.

  "Of course not! Females are just easier to control. Of all the ... do you really think I would—"

  "Oh, don't get your feathers in a ruffle, I'm only teasing. But why all the secrecy? Selanja is in the stable, why don't you just ask her?"

  "Well, she is the head of Uruk's government for now, and she might have some reservations about having nine wild tigras living in her city. But I was thinking, or rather hoping, that since you were her best friend...” He let the thought trail off, looking up at her with hopeful eyes.

  "I get it. You want me to butter her up for you."

  He nodded enthusiastically.

  "Oh, all right, I'll talk to her. But why do I feel like the madam of a tigra whorehouse?"

  Samson closed his eyes and shook his head in exasperation, muttering obscenities under his breath.

  As Jeena had expected, his fears were unfounded. Selanja was more than happy to do all she could for him and his people, and had no objection to his entourage.

  They set out two days later and were given a rousing sendoff by the people of Pyros. David hugged Jeena long in goodbye.

  "It will be quiet not having you around. Don't make it too long between visits."

  "I won't, I promise. The way between the cities is safe now, so I expect to see you in Uruk as well. Bring Sarah and give me a chance to corrupt that young wife of yours,” she said with a wink.

  He turned to Samson. “I suppose you and I will be seeing more of each other."

  "Yes, David, I'll be coming up frequently to check on the tigras and monitor the progress of the generator placements."

  Selanja started them off. Waving to the assembled crowd, they began their journey back to Uruk. It was a slow and easy trek, with frequent stops. One of these resulted in an impromptu game of z-ball. Jeena and Selanja rolled with laughter as Samson, ball-in-mouth, raced toward the goal line, dragging a prostrate but determined Bernd the entire way.

  During the evenings, Samson gathered the nine tigras by the fire to begin their education. As they drew farther from the mental noise of the north, his influence over them grew. The others watched in rapt fascination as he prodded them with his mind to mimic his facial motions, in preparation for the day they would learn to speak. It was a slow and laborious process, but Samson had patience; and soon they could all see improvement.

  It was late summer when they finally reached the Bacchian Fields. The horns of the city blew, and a crowd met them at the gates, led by Ghannon.

  He kissed Selanja.

  "It is good to see you again, tappu,” he said.

  "Thank you, Ghannon, it is good to be home."

  He was startled to see the wild tigras, but she explained their presence and the need to find housing for them. As part of their education, Samson wanted them to live indoors, in as civilized surroundings as possible.

  "The final decision must be the regent's,” he replied, “but I do not believe that will be a problem. Housing will be found."

  He led them to the new palace to meet the newly elected regent, the identity of whom he refused to reveal.

  "I will only tell you that she will be as surprised to meet you, as you will be to meet her,” he answered cryptically.

  The Temple of Ishtar had also been rebuilt, and as they passed they stopped to admire its splendor. It retained its original octagonal shape, but its walls were now of a shimmering red stone, the twin towers capped in ivory marble. The golden dome had been replaced and was now even larger and more glorious. The statue of Ishtar that had graced the foyer of the old temple had been destroyed in the fire, and a new one commissioned. It sat outside the temple in a small courtyard.

  Jeena halted abruptly, gaping up at the large figure. As before, the woman representing Ishtar lay on her side propped up on her left elbow, her right hand caressing her breast. But whereas the previous figure had had a generic feminine face, this one was a perfect likeness of her.

  It was not just the unexpected shock of seeing her own face on the carving that had struck her dumb, however. Lying behind the woman was a tigra, its paw draped seductively over her shoulder.

  "Ghannon...” she began, then realized she had no idea what to say.

  "It is as it was commanded by Elaina, General. There were instructions found after her death."

  Jeena walked around the huge statue in awe.

  "When did she find the time to draw this up?"

  "The plans were not recent, General. As near as I could tell they were made almost thirty years ago."

  Thirty years ago! I was just born. How did she know? Had she seen all this, even Samson and the destruction of the old temple? Will the training of the shimhatu give me the power of her vision?

  Ghannon led them past the temple to the palace. The entranceway was alive with shafts of multicolored light radiating through glass panels. A stairway led to the second floor offices and apartments. The door of one large office was engraved with the word REGENT. Ghannon swung the door open.

  It was a large, elegant room, finely appointed. On the far side, a highly polished desk sat in front of glass doors that opened onto a balcony. The room was empty.

  "Isn't the regent going to meet us here?” Jeena asked.

  Ghannon gave a hand signal, and the doors to a side room opened. A group of shimhatu, led by Aramis, entered the office. In her hands, Aramis carried the Scepter of Regency.

  They stood before Jeena and bowed as one, even Selanja and Ghannon. Aramis straightened and presented the scepter to her.

  Jeena felt the blood rush from her face. “I don't understand."

  "Don't you? It is a simple thing,” Aramis said. “You have been elected by the people of Uru
k to be their regent."

  "Elected? But ... but I never ran for office."

  "Run for office?” Ghannon huffed. “Who in their right mind would ever run for public office? No one runs for office here. They are thrown in kicking and screaming and are usually thankful to have the burden lifted."

  She looked wide-eyed at Selanja. “You knew this?"

  "Ghannon informed me when we embraced, but in truth, I expected it. There were murmurs among the people for many weeks before we left. You might have heard them yourself had you not been so involved in your studies."

  Jeena looked around at the assembly with the expression of a trapped animal. Her gaze fell on Samson.

  "Don't look at me, this is the first I've heard of it,” he said, “but I like the idea. Let's face it, you're never going back to the Corps. You'll make a fine regent—and besides, you need the work."

  "No one can be forced to serve, Jeena,” Selanja said, “in spite of Ghannon's words. You may refuse if you wish. I should tell you, though, that this election was the closest we have ever had to a unanimous vote. Still, the decision is yours."

  Jeena gazed again at the golden scepter in her arms, and when she raised her eyes, they were moist.

  "I do accept, gratefully."

  Aramis and Selanja came to stand beside her.

  "You do not have to choose now, but it is customary to select a ceremonial name when elected. You may wish to consider what you would like to be called during your reign."

  Jeena thought for only a moment.

  "Licente,” she said, her eyes capturing Selanja's.

  Aramis smiled. “That is fitting. Then you shall be known as the Licente, Regent of Uruk."

  Ghannon opened the balcony doors and led her out. Below were gathered the people of Uruk in the newly expanded palace gardens. A roar went up when they spied her holding the scepter cradled in her arms. Jeena could do little more than smile and wave through misty eyes as the cheers continued.

  Samson asked Selanja, “What does licente mean?"

  "In the ancient language, it means ‘tigress.’”

  He stared in wonder at Jeena waving to the crowd, Elaina's last words echoing in his ears.