by Jon Saboe
Peleg stood before her, breathless, realizing he had never fully appreciated her incredible height—or beauty. He looked up into her face, which was smiling sweetly at him—yet somehow that terrified him even more.
She lifted her hands and removed her crown, setting it on the arm of the chair behind her. She then reached for her forehead and removed the veil which was fastened to a small headband, revealing her ivory-white face—now etched with soft bluish highlights cast from the fish-oil lamps. Peleg suddenly realized that her veil had been covering much more than her amber face. Exposed, now, was her throat, her graceful yet powerful collarbones, and the beginnings of an incredible figure—which Peleg would normally have never considered—but was now just inches away from him at eye-level; hammering him with unexpected waves of libidinous vertigo. His thoughts flickered desperately to Talah-Barsuu and his other wives, just a few blocks from here.
He staggered back slightly, embarrassed and confused, but Inanna just laughed again and return to her chair, sitting so that the standing Peleg could look directly into her eyes.
Peleg searched furiously for something to say. He had mentally rehearsed many potential opening statements, but now that he was confronted with the new High Minister—in this city that was totally changed—he was speechless.
He was startled by a second voice—coming from the chair on his right.
“This navigator can offer us nothing.”
The voice was strangely similar to Inanna’s, yet was obviously very young, most likely belonging to a small boy. Yet the words and syntax belonged to a much more mature speaker.
Peleg spun towards the chair just in time to see a shifting mass of blackness separate from the chair’s outline. A small face appeared in mid-air as a large hood was partially pulled back, revealing a small boy wearing a large black robe and seated high upon thick cushions—lifting him so that his head was at the same level as Inanna’s.
The dim lighting made it difficult to be certain, but the boy appeared to have dark, golden colored skin, and the beginnings of a pronounced, Mentor-like brow. However, it was the child’s eyes that alarmed Peleg the most. They bored into him with a fervor and intensity far older than the face they inhabited, and there was something about the countenance that reminded Peleg of someone else—but he could not remember whom.
Without taking his eyes off of Peleg, the boy tipped his head towards Inanna and spoke to her.
“You must discard this one. He is only now beginning to realize what has transpired, and we must take precautions.”
The only thing more chilling than the words, was the fact they were spoken by a boy’s pre-pubescent voice. But Inanna simply laughed again.
“My dear Peleg,” she said, looking at Peleg with a strange mixture of maternal love and pity.
“I would like to introduce you to Tammuz: My son—and former husband.”
Chapter 38
Reunion
“The impetus for restoring the Human Spirit is based upon Super-Natural Selection.”
T he guards ushered Shem and Bernifal unceremoniously through the hallways and down the stairs. But instead of taking them straight to the city gates, they were placed in a holding cell, just inside the Citadel’s main entrance.
Bernifal had not been allowed to collect his suit, but he had not really tried hard to retrieve it. He was sitting, playing softly on his flute, and passing the time with Shem, who was staring through a small square opening, watching people enter and leave the great ziggurat.
Shem did not know why they were being held, but he knew there must be a reason. The Creator had not brought Peleg to him, only to take him away again. And he was certain they would be reunited again soon.
A small stone door slid sideways, and a guard entered with a flagon of water and a small loaf of rye bread. He placed them on the shallow table in the corner and left, ignoring Shem’s ‘Thank you’.
There appeared to be some sort of dispute surrounding the current guard change, and Shem decided that was why they were still here. Presumably, when it was decided which guards would escort them from the city, they would finally leave.
Shem returned to his meditating; asking that the Creator protect Peleg—whatever he might be going through.
Tammuz!
Peleg recalled the name from the previous night’s concert. It took him an extra moment for the full impact of Inanna’s words to register.
Former husband?
Peleg had met her husband, Salah, briefly when he and Serug had visited Inanna a few months before their departure. Mentor Salah had claimed contact with the inhabitants of Nibiru after a long session of eresh-inspired meditation.
Peleg turned quickly to look at Inanna, and then spun back and stared into the boy’s face.
He could now see the resemblance to Salah in the boy’s face and realized that her husband was the person he had been reminded of. But the similarities ended there. This child had a determined, almost arrogant look, which radiated condescension. Nothing like the modest, sometimes-awkward Salah who, although controversial, had always been very pleasant—and very patient with those who did not fully understand or appreciate his unusual ideas.
Laughter from Inanna turned him back towards her, where she was obviously enjoying both his discomfort and confusion. A flush of anger made him decide to recall one of his prepared opening statements and try to wrest some control over this encounter from her. Suspending all of his questions for the moment, he began, his voice trembling slightly.
“When we last spoke, prior to the departure of the Great Discovery, you commissioned me to seek out other cultures and languages, and also to find any evidence or signs of the lost race of Semyaz.”
Inanna’s laughter had ceased, but she was now staring at Peleg with a slight scowl, much like someone would regard a stray pet. Peleg’s chest constricted, but he swallowed hard and forged ahead.
“One of my current traveling companions (whom you just released) actually lived during the times before the Great Calamity. I assume it was you who released him, but I had hoped he could provide you with much information, as well as become a great resource for you and your research.”
Inanna had now closed her eyes and was shaking her head slightly as if she were preparing for a new round of laughter. Peleg took a deep breath through his suddenly dry throat and continued, his voice shaking even more.
“I have heard that other ships from the Great Discovery did return, but that their crews and logs were sequestered away and never heard from again. I believe that I have collected a great deal of information which will assist you in your …”
Inanna’s laughter had been building throughout his last sentence and was now so loud that he was forced to stop. It continued for several more seconds until she opened her eyes, wiped away tears with her fingertips (carefully, Peleg noticed, since they were adorned with long, elaborately decorated fingernails), and finally addressed Peleg.
“My dear Peleg,” she began, her deep voice strained as she recomposed herself. “I am sure you had many fine adventures, and that you have much to share with us. However, I can assure you that you have absolutely nothing to offer of real value, since we have already discovered the answers to any concerns which I may have given you at your departure.”
Peleg blinked, stunned as if he had been slapped. His face remained expressionless as he tried to determine if he had heard her correctly, but there was no mistaking her words. He exhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath, and then swallowed hard. Before he had any chance to create a response, she continued.
“You may have noticed, Peleg, that our city has changed somewhat since you were last here.”
Peleg nodded slowly, thinking that was the biggest understatement he had heard in his entire life.
“You must understand,” she continued, “that there were great transformations occurring long before Reu-Nathor’s Great Discovery. Transformations that you were blind to while ensconced within the sterile walls of t
he Citadel, which disallowed any inquiries or research into avenues of history, spirituality, or alternate realms of consciousness—where true enlightenment can occur.”
She bent forward to focus directly into Peleg’s eyes.
“The Knowledge of the old order is no longer of interest to us. Static, mundane ‘facts’ concerning the outside world can never improve the inner person, or provide the revelations which we, as a society, truly need to attain our full potential as a species. We focus, instead, on Emergent Knowledge—the Knowledge which we reveal to ourselves through meditation; and which the Cosmos itself reveals to us through its emissaries.”
A cold shudder went through him when she said the word “emissaries”
“Emissaries?” He asked before he could catch himself.
She smiled warmly.
“The Anunnaki, of course,” she answered. “They are the true source of revealed knowledge. My husband initially met them just prior to your departure. The minds of the departed Semyaz race. We use the term to refer to their current non-corporeal state.”
Peleg scowled in confusion.
“But I thought those carvings of animals and natural forces were Anunnaki,” he said carefully.
She laughed with a giggle reminiscent of a young girl.
“Those silly trinkets?” Her smile turned into a look of pathetic bemusement. “The merchants will turn anything into a commodity—and of course, we don’t want to discourage their practice. As people turn their minds towards such diversions, the Anunnaki are able to commune and interact more freely. As people’s minds are lifted to the thoughts of the Anunnaki, our society—and the unified cultures of the plains—will attain an enlightenment that was heretofore unattainable.”
Her smile returned.
“Emergent Knowledge. The wisdom that can only come from communing with knowledge far beyond the empirical and the verifiable.”
Peleg closed his eyes momentarily to try and absorb her words, but it seemed that all she was really saying was that subjectivity, which had previously been abhorred, was now exalted; and its multiple avenues of possibilities revered. He could see how this might offer great intellectual stimulation, but it certainly could never create true, reliable progress.
“Come closer.”
Inanna reached out her hand, and Peleg moved forward so that his clothing (which desperately needed to be washed) was actually touching her chair. His pulse began to race; pounding so loudly that he was certain it was audible. He was angry at his inability to control it. She wrapped her long fingers (with their nails) around his left wrist and looked straight into his face.
“You have spent your entire life believing that Reu-Nathor’s Citadel had the answers; that Objective and Deductive Knowledge were the only keys needed to unlock the mysteries of the universe; all the while ignoring the highest and most illuminating form of inquiry: Intuition. It requires training, but with sufficient investment,” she paused, looking into his eyes, “perhaps even you could be a great addition to our studies, here.”
She stopped abruptly, and Peleg realized she was waiting for a response. He felt overwhelmed by her powerful personality which threatened to bury him, leaving him with no views of his own. He stood there, motionless, while he tried to collect his thoughts. Evidently, he waited too long, for she suddenly released his wrist, pushing him back slightly.
“Perhaps you should learn what transpired during your absence,” she said, her face suddenly relaxing into a slight smile. “Approximately five years after your departure, Reu-Nathor was removed from his position via a no-confidence vote. Around that same time, my husband, Mentor Salah, acquired a strong, new self-assurance which resonated with our subjects, and he found himself among those selected to be possible replacements. He developed great wisdom, with new abilities and resources, and soon, after months of intense political and personal efforts, …”
She paused and looked at her little Tammuz, who finished her sentence for her.
“… I became the new Ul-Minister of Knowledge.”
The boy looked intently at Peleg with the arrogant assurance of one daring to be contradicted. Peleg felt his sanity slipping away, as conflicting thoughts rebelled against each other. This five-year old was calmly claiming that he had been present seven years earlier, and wrested control of the Citadel from those who had directed it for decades.
He spun back to Inanna, partly in a panic, and partly hoping he was the victim of a cruel welcome-home prank. But she continued her narrative as if nothing had happened.
“Mentor Salah assumed the moniker of ‘Dumuzi’, in honor of the entity which was now training and teaching him. His great understanding and enlightenment created enormous excitement and popularity for him—not just in the Citadel—but also among the general public and throughout the entire region. But in a fit of jealous fury, he was murdered by the deposed Reu-Nathor during a public lecture. The enraged crowd avenged his assassination and attacked Reu-Nathor, summarily executing him on the spot.”
Peleg was shaken at the prospect of Reu-Nathor committing murder, but upon reflection, he knew that the former High Minister was very zealous in his views. He was forced to admit that such a man might be capable of almost anything if his beliefs and convictions were threatened.
Inanna turned to look at her son.
“Fortunately, I was already pregnant with little Tammuz, and during the agony of his birth a great mystery occurred. Great earthquakes shook the hills, and for a moment I left this plane and descended into the world of those who have passed on. There I discovered my departed husband, did battle with the powers which dwell there, and somehow was able to return with his essence and impart it to the child within my womb.”
She looked back to the unbelieving Peleg.
“Of course,” she said, “I have no actual memory of this. I was completely unaware of what had transpired until long after his birth. Many weeks passed until a small group of intuatives revealed it to me. I was unconvinced at first, but as Tammuz has grown,” she turned back to her son, “he has confirmed beyond any doubt that he is, indeed, a second incarnation of Dumuzi—or Mentor Salah, as you knew him.”
She returned her gaze to Peleg and leaned forward.
“Tammuz has given me intimate details of our earlier life, plus a complete account of my venture into the underworld. I told you many years ago that I welcomed your skepticism, but I can assure you that my former husband is indeed seated before you.”
Peleg was unable to form any thoughts as Inanna’s confident narrative presented him with too many impossibilities. He turned and looked at the boy’s face, and was terrified by the raw hate which was emanating from it. Tammuz’s little eyes looked as though a thousand years of rage and bitterness had been stored up—with the sole purpose of being unleashed upon Peleg. Suddenly, Tammuz twisted under his hood as he turned to address his mother.
“We must remove him as we did the others,” he said, resolutely. “He has nothing to offer us, and I would like to move on to other activities before our morning escapes us. Besides,” he said, sounding for the first time like a child, “I’m hungry.”
As much as these words disturbed Peleg, (since they seemed to describe the fate of other Great Discovery explorers), he found himself more concerned with why this little boy should despise him so vehemently. It occurred to him that he had experienced such hatred only once before—and that was on the morning when Bernifal had taken him from Haganah. The loathing and vile accusations from the Nephilim during his paralyzing “dream” had exactly the same feeling and intensity as the revulsion which Tammuz was expressing towards him.
But this was no dream.
“My dear Tammuz,” Inanna responded to her son with exaggerated patience. “Peleg was my friend, and I don’t see any reason to do anything rash—or permanent.”
Peleg’s mind was racing far faster than their conversation. If the Nephilim were real, as Shem had claimed, then they would know everything about the life of Mentor Salah.
And if Shem’s claim about the human spirit was real, they could indwell anyone, including this little boy, and deceive or convince Inanna of anything.
“He presents a danger which you do not understand,” Tammuz insisted impatiently to his mother.
Peleg was barely listening to their exchange. He was considering the probability that Shem had been right about everything else. Peleg was finally (and reluctantly) forced to admit that his old ways of thinking and viewing the world, as taught by the Citadel, were hopelessly inadequate for describing the real-life experience which he was now facing. And incredible as it seemed, it was Shem’s worldview which actually explained this unbelievable situation—as terrifying as it was.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Inanna retorted to her son. “Young Peleg is harmless enough. We can maintain a watch over him to make sure he doesn’t talk to the wrong people. I’m sure we can find many useful duties for him to fulfill.”
Peleg had already given up on the possibility that his life would return to the one he had left almost fourteen years ago. And he had experienced so many encounters with despair and defeat, that he almost didn’t care what happened to him now. He was more interested in trying to come to some conclusions about reality as he tried to integrate all of the conflicting experiences of his life.
“Peleg!”
Tammuz’s demanding five-year-old voice interrupted his thoughts, and Peleg turned to look at the young boy.
“You are most fortunate that my mother carries such kindness and mercy within her,” Tammuz said with a hint of irritation. “She is a most compelling mediator, and she is somehow convinced that you can be adapted to our needs.”
His look of bitter hatred returned.
“But be certain you understand that I would prefer to dispose of you. Your antiquated way of thinking severely undermines our goals.”
Inanna’s laughter interrupted him.