Timewyrm: Genesis Part 15

He was dressed in what at one time had clearly been some sort of uniform.

It was hard to tell exactly how it had looked, as it was torn, patched and dirty now, but the basic pale brown was still discernible in spots. His boots were in much better shape, and a pair of gloves lay within the boat. A belt finished off his clothing, and strapped to it was a small pistol of some kind that he made no move towards.

"Who are you?" Gilgamesh asked. "And why don't you prostrate yourself before me?" Regarding the king with some amus.e.m.e.nt, the scarecrow replied: "The name's Urshanabi, strangers. And as for the prostrating part -"

He shrugged. "I've not had much call for that sort of skill. You're the first visitors we've had in all the weeks we've been here. Now, suppose you tell me who you are?"

Annoyed, Gilgamesh stepped forward. Ace could see he was ready to make a grab for his axe. "I am Gilgamesh, king of men," he informed Urshanabi, coldly. "My companions are Aya and the musician Avram."

"Really?" The man didn't seem impressed. "Travelling far?"

"We're here," Ace broke in quickly. "to see Utnapishtim." She glanced uneasily at Gilgamesh, whose face made it plain that he was running out of patience.

"Are you indeed?" Urshanabi scratched his chin, and thought for a moment.

"You must have been allowed through by the Guardians."

"Of course we were," Gilgamesh pointed out, barely restraining his temper.

"You yourself said you don't get many strangers. How else could we be here?"

"You have a point," the man agreed, infuriatingly calm. "But only so far. The Guardians are fine soldiers, but they're a bit limited in their logic functions.

Suppose you tell me why you want to see Utnapishtim?"

"Suppose," Gilgamesh thundered, dangerously, "you just let us past, and mind your own business?"

"This is my business," Urshanabi explained. "I decide who gets to the island." He pointed across the lake.

Ace saw that even from this close, the waters looked almost black. Too little light penetrated the cone to illuminate it. The effect was one of wild desolation. She shivered. Urshanabi saw it and laughed gently.

"Yes, it's a depressing place. We call it the lake of souls. Sort of chills them within you."

"Speaking of souls," Gilgamesh interrupted him, ominously, "if you wish yours to stay within your body, then I suggest you take us to Utnapishtim right now."

The man raised an eyebrow and regarded him with an amused expression.

"We do this at my pace," he answered. "I make the decisions here. Not some muscle-bound moron with an axe."

This was too much for the king. "By the backside of Lugulbanda," he roared, "I will take no more of these orders from others!" He grabbed for Urshanabi, who tried to back away, but not quickly enough. Gilgamesh's huge fist closed on his tunic front, and the king hauled him off his feet.

"Stop it!" Ace yelled, jumping to grasp the fist Gilgamesh had poised to strike with. She might as well have tried to stop a tree falling. Shrugging her off the king returned to his consideration of pounding some respect into his captive.

But Urshanabi had lost his veneer of calm; he drew his weapon and trained it on Gilgamesh. For a second Ace was tempted to let him use it but, mindful of the Doctor's instructions, she reluctantly realized that she couldn't take the chance that it was just intended to stun. She smacked the gun down, and Gilgamesh's fist collided with the unfortunate Urshanabi's face.

Ace was amazed that the poor man's head didn't simply cave in. The blow looked and sounded as if it had broken his nose, and blood flowed out and down his dirty uniform. Gilgamesh tossed him aside, his temper still flaming. Drawing his battle axe he attacked the only other target within range - the boat.

With a cry of despair Ace tried to stop him. Again he brushed her aside, and hacked at the oars until they were matchwood. Still berserk, he launched himself at the little craft's single mast. The tall mast cracked like a tree in a storm and collapsed, half in and half out of the boat. Panting a little at his efforts, but still not satiated, Gilgamesh looked about for another target.

Ace had had quite enough of his petulant behaviour. She scooped up Urshanabi's fallen gun. It seemed pretty simple to operate, so she fired it at the king's feet. With a hiss, the sand fused into globs of writhing gla.s.s.

Obviously it had not been set on stun. Had she not knocked it away, it might have killed Gilgamesh. Still, the king couldn't be certain she wouldn't use it on him.

"Enough!" she ordered. "Calm down!"

Gilgamesh looked at her blackly, but he wasn't stupid enough to walk into the path of whatever it was that she now held. Muttering under his breath, he subsided somewhat. Ace ignored him, and turned her attention to the fallen Urshanabi.

Avram had wetted a piece of his own tunic and was using it to wash the fresh blood from the stunned man. Ace was amazed to see that Urshanabi was still conscious, despite the power behind the blow he had been given.

Kneeling beside the musician she grimaced at the scarecrow, who was clearly tougher than he looked.

"You'll have to forgive Gilgamesh," she apologized. "He's a bit impulsive at the best of times. And these aren't the best of times."

"I gathered as much," Urshanabi agreed weakly. His voice sounded nasal, which was hardly surprising. He pushed aside Avram's dabbing efforts and managed to struggle into a sitting position, from which he surveyed the damage.

"Sorry about that, too," Ace added, glumly. "He got a bit carried away."

"Which is more than you will be," Urshanabi managed, in a pained voice.

"What do you mean?"

He gestured at the boat. "That boat is the only way out to Utnapishtim's island. So even if I wanted to take you, I simply can't now that idiot's destroyed the mast and oars. We're stuck on the sh.o.r.e here."

With a sinking heart, Ace realized that he was telling the truth. "Can't we replace them?" she asked.

Urshanabi almost managed a small laugh at that. He gestured all around.

"And do you see any trees?" He was quite right: the volcanic landscape showed a few scrub-bushes, gra.s.ses and plants, but nothing of any size that would be workable as a mast or oars. The last tree she had seen that would suit such a purpose had been three days earlier... The thought of trekking back three days, and then trying to haul the wood here was too much even to consider.

So - now what? She stared over the black waters and wished heartily that she could sink Gilgamesh under the surface. Preferably with concrete blocks on both feet.

The Doctor realized that he was the only person standing, and that his companions were all prostrate on the floor in front of the King. Cheerfully, he struck out a hand. "How do you do?" he asked politely. "You must be King Agga. I've heard a lot about you. I understand you've got a problem that I can help you to sort out."

Ignoring him completely, the king moved forward slowly. The tip of the mace of office he carried rested briefly on Ninani's shoulder. "Rise," he told her, in a weary voice. As she hastily complied, he shook his head.

"Daughter, what are you doing here?"

"Trying to help," she said, miserably.

Agga snorted. "And talking treason is supposed to help?"

"We were not talking treason!" she flared. "We were talking about destroying the hold that Ishtar has over you."

Agga gestured with his mace at Enkidu. "And I suppose this isn't the apeman that moves at Gilgamesh's behest?" Ninani glanced uncertainly down at the Neanderthal. "Well, yes - but he says he wants to help us."

"I'm sure he does," Agga agreed smoothly. "He wants to help Gilgamesh to my throne. We all know that the king of Uruk views us as his rival. Or as a prize to be plucked." He stared down at En-Gula. "And who is that?"

"She is a priestess from the temple of Ishtar, lord," Ninani replied meekly.

Nodding, the King spun about to face the Doctor, who politely raised his hat and smiled. "I see. And you wouldn't happen to be the supposedly unconscious man that Ishtar was interested in, shortly before her temple was damaged?"

"Ah, yes. . ."the Doctor answered. "Well, I can explain that. You see - "

Agga gestured for silence with his mace. "There's really no need to explain anything to me. I'm not interested. But I will explain something to you." His eyes burned darkly into the Doctor's. "For what you and your companions did to her temple, Ishtar almost destroyed my city. I will not risk that happening again. She tells me that she has a box that can lay waste to the all the lands of men. I believe her when she says this, and will not risk raising her fury by even listening to fools that plot against her."

"If you do not fight her, she will consume you," the Doctor a.s.sured him.

"No," Agga replied. "If we try to fight her, she will destroy us all. I cannot take that chance."

"You're making a big mistake if you give in to her blackmail."

Uninterested, Agga turned to his guards. "Take the ape-man and his companions to the cells," he ordered. "I will stay and speak with the princess alone." He watched impa.s.sively as they obeyed him. The Doctor gave him one final glance of pity and scorn before being led away. Then the door was closed. With a heavy heart, Agga turned back to his daughter.

"Ninani," he sighed. "I love you as I loved your mother. I realize that what you did, you did out of concern for me. But -" and steel crept into his voice, "- do not ever even think of helping me in such a way again. I make my own decisions, and you will obey them utterly. Otherwise, beloved daughter or not, you will be punished. Do I make myself quite clear?" Her face burning with embarra.s.sment and suppressed anger, Ninani nodded tightly. He was treating her like a stupid child! "Good." The fury in her eyes was not lost on him. "I understand how you feel, daughter. You only did what you felt was right. But if you were the ruler of Kish and not I, you would soon discover that there are many, many things to consider when you make decisions. A wise king cloaks his thoughts and keeps his counsel close. Your idea of attacking Ishtar might have seemed clever, but it is insanely dangerous.

She has powers that we do not understand, and her anger, if it is kindled against us, could destroy us all."

Ninani could keep her own anger bottled no longer. "So we sit here, doing nothing, and allowing her to act as she wills?" she cried. "Why do you think that her plans will not kill us all anyway? Surely it is better to die fighting for our freedom than to die like slaves?"

"It is never better to die for any reason," her father reprimanded her. "While we are alive, we can hope."

"Hope?" Emboldened by his soft words and inflamed on her own pa.s.sion, Ninani charged on. "How can we hope when out of fear for her you imprison those that might aid us?"

Agga glared at her, his emotions churning. Finally, tightly, he told her: "Mind what you say, daughter. Any further outbursts from you and -princess though you may be - you will be placed in the stocks alongside your friends. And whipped till that tongue of yours stops it's prattling. Now be silent, and do as I tell you!" Turning, he stormed out of her room. The waiting guards closed the door behind him.

Ninani realized that her hands were so tightly clenched that her nails were drawing blood from her palms. Forcing her fury down, she slowly unclenched her fists. She stared at her b.l.o.o.d.y palms, not seeing them at all.

If her father thought he had beaten her spirit, he was wrong. And he was wrong to think that appeasing Ishtar was the best course to take. The G.o.ddess had to be fought, whatever the cost. Taking a deep breath, Ninani tried to calm down. She had to plan. Of all the conspirators, she was the only one left free. It was all up to her now. She knew that her father would truly punish her if he felt that he had to, but she had to take that chance.

More and more certainly, she knew that Ishtar was evil and threatened to destroy everything. How could her father even think of trying to placate her? Moving to the door, she listened carefully. As she had rather expected, she heard the sounds of someone fidgeting outside. Her father had made her a prisoner in her own room.

But that would not stop her. She had only to find a way out.

Urshanabi was getting over the punch that had floored him, and he started to toss the wooden fragments from Gilgamesh's destruction into a small pile. Ace watched his tidying up with no interest, frustrated at having come so far only to be stuck because of the temper tantrum Gilgamesh had thrown.

Avram was talking in a low voice with the ferryman, obviously gleaning background details for another of his songs from the man. Gilgamesh sat on a rock, lost in his own thoughts. Ace enjoyed the thought of pushing him into the water and dropping rocks onto his head.

She watched Urshanabi enlist Avram's help to get what was left of the shattered mast out of the boat. One long fragment almost brought something to her mind, but she couldn't think what. She concentrated furiously, and then it came.

Grinning, she dashed down to the two men. "Oi," she called, excitedly.

"How deep is this here lake?" Urshanabi shrugged. "Not deep. A little more than the height of a man, I'd say. It's not had time to get very deep. But don't think about swimming out to the island."

That wasn't what was in her mind, but she was puzzled and asked: "Why not?" As an answer, he tossed a stick into the waters. The blackness bubbled all about it for a moment, then subsided. He saw her look of shock, and smiled grimly. "Utnapishtim stocked the waters with a species of killer fish," he explained. "To stop unwelcome visitors."

Ace shivered. "With those robots at the gate, and his pet barracudas here, he must really like his privacy."

Urshanabi gave her an odd look. "We're just defending ourselves," he told her.

Against what? Ace wondered. Aloud, she said: "Well, we needn't swim across. Why don't we make a punt?"

"A punt?"

"Yeah." Grinning, Ace explained. "They're dead popular a few thousand years in the future. You push the boat along with a long pole. About the length of what's left of the mast, in fact. And if the water's only eight feet deep, it should be a doddle."

Rubbing his chin, Urshanabi considered the idea. "It might work," he finally agreed. "But it'll take some heavy work to push us over to the island."

Ace grinned maliciously at Gilgamesh. "Well, I know someone who's very strong, and has lots of excess energy to work off. . . "

Though he did not feel at all confident about Ace's plan, Gilgamesh could raise no real objections when she explained it to him. For all of his faults, he was not a stupid man. He realized that he had, after all, almost wrecked the expedition, and he had been cursing himself silently for his impulsive actions. Here, now, was a chance to redeem himself. He had to agree to try it, at least. Carefully, with Urshanabi sitting in the prow, and with Ace and Avram behind him, Gilgamesh climbed into the stern, and used the mast fragment to push off from the sh.o.r.e.

There was a bubbling motion about the boat that had little to do with the water and considerably to do with the hungry fish investigating the intruder.

But the pole was inedible and they eventually swam away out of boredom.

Though not used to punting, Gilgamesh caught on quickly. Muscles rippling, he raised the wood, then sank it until it touched bottom. Pushing hard, he raised and swung and lowered . . . The boat skimmed out across the black waters of the lake of souls, towards whatever might await them on the heart of the island.

Ace couldn't help wondering what sort of a reception might greet them. So far, all the signs that Utnapishtim had given seemed to be of the survivors will be prosecuted variety. Why was he so paranoid about visitors? And could they really expect him to aid them in their fight against Ishtar?

The Doctor waggled his feet experimentally, and then looked around. "I've been in worse dungeons," he told his companions cheerfully. "And these stocks aren't really all that tight."

In the gloom, he could just about make out Enkidu's grimace. "Fine," the warrior answered. "That's the good news. The bad news is that they're probably going to leave us in here forever."

"Defeatist," the Doctor replied.

"Oh?" Enkidu laughed bitterly. "And can your magic powers get us out of here?" Regarding with an offended expression the crude wooden device that imprisoned his feet, the Doctor had to be honest. "No. They're a bit too simple for me. Electronic locks, or even a good, old-fashioned padlock - those I could be out of in an instant. But they've not been invented yet."

Each set of stocks was simply two blocks of shaped wood that held their feet together. The pieces were joined by the simple but effective means of driving large wooden wedges through holes in both halves of the stocks.

The only way out would be to hammer the wedges loose from below the stocks.

From a separate set of stocks facing the Doctor and Enkidu, En-Gula made a sobbing noise. The Doctor wished he had a hankie he could pa.s.s her.

"There, there," he said, hoping he sounded comforting. "It's probably not as bad as all that." Privately, he was rather worried. For all her air of confidence in the past En-Gula was actually little more than a girl who had been forced into adulthood by her profession. Inside she was still a child and needed rea.s.surance. He'd never been all that good in such situations.

He wished that Agga had at least given her a cell of her own. Then he could have ignored her problems and concentrated on his own for a while.

Rummaging about in his pocket, he found a tattered paper bag. Holding it out, he offered: "Liquorice allsort?" En-Gula ignored him and sobbed quietly. How far she had fallen! A few weeks ago, she had been a cheerful acolyte in the temple of Ishtar, enjoying her work, and desired by men. Now here she was, imprisoned in the cells under the palace, with a hairy half-human creature and a strange madman. The whims of the G.o.ds were too much for her. Her dreams had crashed about her and nightmares were gnawing at her spirit.

Meanwhile Enkidu was not idle. Carefully, he tested the strengths of the individual joints on the stocks. His hairy skin covered powerful muscles, but they would not be of much help here. He simply could not apply his trength usefully, trapped like this. Still, he considered, he had been in worse spots before.

He was a warrior, and was quite prepared for whatever came to pa.s.s. If he had to endure hours, or even days, in these stocks, then he might as well put the time to good use. He was just about to try to settle down for a nap when he heard the Doctor muttering to himself. - "Come on, come on," the Doctor snapped, annoyed. "There must be a way out of this thing. There's too much to do to be idling my time away here."

Enkidu laughed. "You are talking to yourself, my friend."

"That's because I like intelligent conversations," retorted the Doctor tartly.

"I can't waste all day like this."