Timewyrm: Genesis Part 4

"There's something very unwholesome going on somewhere in the Earth's past. And if we don't stop it, then there might not be an Earth as you know it. It'll just be dust blowing in the cosmic winds."

As he fiddled with the controls, Ace tried to take it in. "But - I'm from the Earth, Professor," she objected. "If it's destroyed in the past . . . " "You may very well cease to exist," he agreed, concentrating on the settings. "Or your Earth will be confined to a sliver of the Universe, cut off from the rest. So we'll have a sort of barometer to see if what we're doing will work. If you vanish, we've made a mistake."

"Somehow that's not very comforting, Professor."

He glared at her again. "Must you address me like that, Ace? I knew I should have edited that out of your memory while I had the chance." He sighed. "Ace, there are times when there is no comfort in time travel. This may be one of them. We seem to be heading for a crisis of unimaginable proportions here something that could unravel the fabric of the Universe."

"But . . . but how could something change the past?" Ace persisted. "I mean, it's already happened, hasn't it? Didn't you once tell me that we can't change the way history's written?" "You can't change your past," he agreed, mulling over his settings. "But a Time Lord could. As far as I'm concerned it hasn't happened yet, and Time Lords have much more power to call on than any human being. And so do some other races. Any being powerful enough to alter the course of human history is a force to be reckoned with indeed."

"You're giving me the shivers," Ace complained in a quiet voice.

"I'm giving myself the shivers," he replied. As he watched, all of his settings began to change. Ace stared at the controls. "The TARDIS is taking over the flight plan herself," he informed her. "She knows what she's doing." He patted the console, and smiled thinly. "Let's only hope that we know what we're doing when we arrive."

Ace couldn't make much sense of the readings beyond the basic code for the Earth. "Any idea where we're going to turn up?" "Oh, yes: Mesopotamia, 2700 BC."

He looked thoughtful. "A crucial point in human history, Ace. The first walled cities were being built. Irrigation was transforming your people from nomadic gatherers and hunters into city-dwellers. Writing had just been invented, and the system of a warrior aristocracy. An exciting period of time, and a very vulnerable one. If this experiment had failed, the human race might have remained in a state of primitive savagery for thousands more years."

"Is that what we've got to prevent?" Ace asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "I doubt it. I have a feeling it's something much worse than that . . .

Ace stared at the time rotor as it rose and fell. "Great . . ." she muttered, without much conviction.

"I told you I had a bad feeling about this," Enkidu complained. Grabbing one of the attackers by the throat, he used the hapless man as a living shield to fend off the sword-blows aimed at him.

"Oh, shut up," was the best Gilgamesh could manage. He ducked the first blows aimed at him, and then succeeded in getting his hands on his axe.

There wasn't room for much of a swing, but he managed well enough to spill the guts of the next man that came at him. Screaming and clutching at his stomach, the soldier fell backwards into the path of his companions.

With this brief respite Enkidu managed to grasp his war club. He swung out at the nearest attacker. A solid thunk stove in the man's brains, and he collapsed soundlessly to the ground.

Enkidu glanced around. Three of the men from his patrol were already dead, their blood irrigating the earth. The fourth and fifth men were injured.

Only he and Gilgamesh remained unscathed as yet, and there were at least twenty Kis.h.i.tes about them. In the open, that would be good odds, but here there wasn't room to swing a solid blow.

The captain of the attackers gestured with his sword. "At them!" he yelled.

"Gilgamesh is to be taken alive, remember, but the ape can be laughtered."

"Ape?" Enkidu yelled, furious. "Come here and repeat that!" He made his club whistle above his head.

"You're too touchy," Gilgamesh laughed. he was puzzled by the order to take him alive, but he had no intention of being taken at all. The problem was that the advantages were all with their attackers. This time, he couldn't see a way out.

"Lugulbanda," he grunted in prayer to his personal G.o.d, "This would be a pretty good time to get off your backside and do something for a change."

There was a moment of eerie silence. Swords were stilled in mid-air, spears halted in mid-thrust. Then, growing like a roll of thunder, an earsplitting roaring sound filled the air. It sounded almost like an elephant hunt - the sound the dying behemoth made when it was being slaughtered.

Rising and falling, the noise seemed to be coming from the air itself, because there was certainly nothing visible.

Enkidu seized his opportunity. With a fierce roar of his own, he jumped into battle with the closest of their foes. Gilgamesh was right behind him. The noise that had shocked everyone stopped, and then there was a tall, blue box standing in the circle of trees. On its top, a small fire burned without consuming anything.

Enkidu laughed in pleasure as his club shattered another skull. Flinging the dead man from him, he paused long enough to see a young woman walk out of the box. He blinked and shook his head. From the expression on her face, she had not been expecting to step into the middle of a battle.

There was no time for further gawping. Another soldier thrust at him, but Enkidu twisted aside. The sword pa.s.sed by his left arm, narrowly missing him. Enkidu smashed down on the arm that held the sword, and heard the pleasing sound of shattering bone. The attacker screamed, and dropped his sword. Enkidu smashed the man's face and kicked the body backwards.

Gilgamesh was likewise in the midst of his battle frenzy. His war-axe whirled, clearing men from about him rapidly - they either moved back or died.

The captain of the Kis.h.i.te soldiers didn't like the way the tide had turned.

He nodded to two of his archers. "Kill the ape, but only wound Gilgamesh,"

he ordered. The men dropped to their knees, and aimed past their companions.

Ace wasn't sure which side she should be supporting, but she couldn't simply wait for one or other side to win. Apart from the fact that there was no telling how they'd react to her, it simply wasn't in her nature to back out of a fight. Feeling in the backpack she'd slung over her shoulder on leaving the TARDIS, she grabbed a can of her invaluable nitro-nine. She primed it, tossed it into the air, and threw herself to the ground.

For the fighters it was as if a new sun had suddenly appeared in the sky.

With a terrible roar of sound, flames lit the entire oasis. The archers, taking careful aim, were blinded by the sudden light and then knocked flying by the blast. The men standing were thrown aside like leaves in. a gale and slammed into trees. Gilgamesh and Enkidu, too, felt the explosion above them, as if mighty hands were pressing them down to the ground.

With their ears ringing and their eyes seeing flashing lights, the two warriors of Uruk gathered their wits and weapons, but the attack was broken. The remaining soldiers were picking themselves up and fleeing back to Kish. It was bad enough fighting the king of Uruk, but this new event had shattered their hearing and their confidence alike. With satisfaction, Gilgamesh noted that less than half of the attackers were crawling home, and none of them uninjured. Staggering back to his feet, he looked around the corpse-strewn pond. Of his patrol, only he and Enkidu remained alive. Both had nicks and scratches, but no real wounds.

His eyes lit on the strange girl, who stood staring back defiantly at him. So this was the answer to his irreverent prayer! Well, if Lugulbanda was going to answer this promptly in the future, maybe it was time he got a little more of that old religious feeling back! He looked over the girl with a professional eye.

A bit on the skinny side, and very pale, but otherwise a healthy looking wench. But - was she a human being or a G.o.d? "Who are you?" he asked her, with respect, just in case.

"Ace." Ace in her turn stared at the half-naked man facing her. His chest was heaving, his muscles dripping sweat. His hairy face wasn't unhandsome, but she wasn't certain she like the look of that calculated gleam in his eye.

"Aya?" he repeated. The G.o.ddess of the dawn herself? Well, that would explain the bright light and the noise she had somehow created. True, the G.o.ds weren't much noted for walking amongst men, but he had, after all, seen Ishtar herself only a few weeks ago. There seemed to be a veritable plague of G.o.ds hereabouts! The door of the strange box opened again, and another figure came out. This was a man, obviously, but like none that he had ever seen before. He was dressed in strange clothes, and carried something in his hand that was certainly not a formidable club.

"And I'm the Doctor," this newcomer said brightly. "I do hope we've not dropped in at an inconvenient time?" Enkidu's wits had come back to him now, and he looked from the Doctor to Ace in stupefaction. "Where did you come from?" he asked.

Gilgamesh laughed. "Enkidu, you fool, these are G.o.ds! I prayed to Lugulbanda, and the old reprobate actually answered me for once. The pretty one is Aya, G.o.ddess of the dawn. And the weird one must be Shamash, the G.o.d of the sun. Though he hardly looks the part of a warrior G.o.d, to be honest."

"I'm not a warrior of any kind, really," the Doctor said, quickly. "I'm a student, a scholar, a man of learning."

"Ah!" Gilgamesh grinned at this. "Ea! G.o.d of wisdom. By the holies, Lugulbanda really answered my prayers, didn't he? You two are just what I need to complete my mission. Light and knowledge!" "What are you -" Ace began, but the Doctor nudged her in the ribs, and stepped forwards.

"Well," he said, cautiously, "If you were to tell us a little bit more about your mission, maybe we might be able to help you."

Enkidu had had enough of the talking, and he set about salvaging whatever was useful from the bodies lying around the oasis. Gilgamesh laughed, and clapped an arm in comradely fashion about the Doctor's shoulders. The Doctor tried not to wince in pain.

"My companion in arms Enkidu and I were just off into Kish to check out the state of things. We've heard some disturbing stories of strange happenings there of late."

"Strange happenings?" the Doctor echoed, with wide-eyed innocence.

"Really? Well, I happen to be a bit of an expert in the realm of strange happenings. Maybe Ace and I will pop into Kish with you for a little look, eh?" He lowered his voice in conspiratorial tones. "There wouldn't happen to be a temple in this city, would there?" "There are many temples, Ea,"

Gilgamesh replied. "Did you want to check on your servants there? I have to admit that I'm not certain where your temple would be."

"No . . . More on anything out of the ordinary."

Ace tugged on his sleeve. "What's this sudden interest in a temple, Professor?" "You remember that Katarina's image laid great stress on the word." He tapped his nose with the handle of his umbrella. "I have a sneaky suspicion that we'll find a few of the answers inside one of the temples in Kish."

6: SPYING TONIGHT.

Agga's palace was close to the temple of Zababa, patron G.o.d of the city of Kish. The palace was a large building, made mostly from stone and brick, and decorated by the omnipresent coloured clay cones. Some of the walls had been whitewashed, and paintings of G.o.ds and mortals mingled on this canvas. Statues lined the corridors and rooms, giving stone life to figures of men and beasts. Returning from another round of futile prayers to Zababa to unclench the fist of Ishtar from around the throats of the Kis.h.i.tes, Agga collapsed wearily onto his throne, ignoring the fawning ministrations of the n.o.bles and servants that surrounded him. One hand rested on the leopard-headed arm of his throne; the other supported his own tired head.

One voice cut through the babble of the attendants, and Agga opened his bloodshot eyes to see his daughter staring sympathetically up at him.

Ninani was fourteen, and a woman in the eyes of the laws. But Agga saw only the image of his long-dead favourite wife in Ninani's exquisite features.

In the normal course of events, Ninani would have been married off by now, but Agga had not been able to bear the thought of losing her to some other city. Now that Kish had been blessed with the arrival of Ishtar, Ninani was his one refuge from the nightmares about him. Hers was a gentle and kindly soul, and a fragile beauty that he had always done his best to protect - and always would.

Gesturing slightly, he allowed her to approach him. Her dark eyes burned into his own, and she shook her head in despair.

"You've been to her temple again, haven't you, father?" she asked.

"Is it so obvious?" he growled, simultaneously grateful and annoyed that she could read him so well.

"It always is." Ninani said, simply. She sat at his feet, and began gently to rub his left hand. "You're always so tense, so haunted." She shook her head. "I had always imagined that to be visited by one of the G.o.ds would be such a blessing. Yet - forgive me - there seems to have been little for us from Ishtar's visit but a curse!" Agga's eyes darted across the faces of the n.o.bles and servants. Was one of them in her service? Could she see and hear through them? Did she even now know what Ninani had said? There was no way to tell, no way to be certain he could protect his daughter. "You shouldn't say such things," he chided her. "Mortals must endure whatever the G.o.ds visit upon us."

"Endure?" Ninani echoed. "Father, you're suffering, not enduring. And our people are suffering. I used to enjoy visiting the temple of Ishtar - it was always happy and -" her lips twitched slightly as she remembered the sacred priestesses and their noisy duties "- educational. But now there's more merriment in a field of unburied corpses than in the temple of Ishtar. "

"Do not say such things," Agga insisted. "It is not wise to talk about the G.o.ddess so." He wished that he could tell her the truth, but she was too sensitive. It would hurt her to be so blunt. No, better that she have the protection of ignorance. Better to pretend.

Ninani held her beautiful head high, arrogantly. "I am not afraid of Ishtar,"

she snapped.

"That is because you are still young and foolish," Agga told her. "If you were wise, you would be very afraid of her. She can kill. Or..." He shook his head, not wanting to think about it. "There are worse things than death. The G.o.ds know them all. Stay away from Ishtar's temple. And do not criticize the G.o.ds."

"You speak as if you expect to be betrayed to her," Ninani said, perceptively. She gestured about the court. "None of these citizens or servants would willingly betray you, father."

"I know, my daughter," he replied. "But the G.o.ds have ways to possess a man or woman, and to make them spies whether they will it or not. Ishtar can cloud their minds, and shackle their spirits. If she wants to know what we do or say, then she will discover it. The nurse at whose b.r.e.a.s.t.s you suckled may be Ishtar's spy if Ishtar wishes it. Any one of my wives might be my a.s.sa.s.sin if Ishtar tells them to slay. The G.o.ds know best. While Ishtar is with us, we have security and peace." He stroked her hair thinking: I know peace only when you are with me.

Ninani refused to be put off, and glared angrily at him. "Peace? You call this peace? Let us face her down!" she exclaimed. "It is not right that you, above all people, should live in this fear. I shall take a spear and slay her - or die trying!" "You will not!" he thundered, rising to his feet, furious at last.

One look at his face cowed Ninani completely. She had obviously gone too far. Throwing herself to the stone floor, she kissed his feet. She had rarely seen her father so furious, and never at anything she had said or done. The throne room was expectantly silent.

"Forgive me," she whispered.

"Of course I forgive you," he said coldly, reaching down with his staff of office. Relieved, she climbed to her feet again. Princess she may be, and daughter of his loins - but if he had not publicly forgiven her, she would have been stoned to death for angering him. "But," he added, pointing his staff at her, "you are not to go to the temple of Ishtar, for any reason. Do you understand me?" He hated to force this upon her, but it was for her own protection.

"Yes, father," she agreed, meekly. "And if she should send for me?" If she should send for you, he thought, then 1 shall forget my worries and tear the temple down about her ears. "Did you not hear me?" he said. "You are not to go anywhere near her temple or her servants there. That is all I shall say on the subject." He sighed, and signalled for his chief steward. "Now, I am tired and hungry, and will eat. Leave me, daughter."

Ninani bowed, and walked backwards out from the throne room. Even for the king's daughter, to turn her back on his divine presence would be to invite death.

In the corridor Ninani paused thoughtfully. Her maid, Puabi, hurried over.

She was a good maid, but something of a gossip. That was what Ninani valued most about her. Ninani had to remain in the palace for days on end, and Puabi was her eyes and ears for everything taking place outside the palace compounds. A plump, middle-aged woman of peasant stock, Puabi made it her business to know everything that was happening within earshot of the city.

"Puabi," she asked, carefully, "do you know any of the sacred harlots?"

"Ishtar's harpies?" her maid replied, opening her eyes in surprise. "One or two, though not too well." She was trying to work out why her mistress should ask.

The only logical answer came to her, and she grinned. "What, has your father agreed to marry you off at last, and you need some advice on how to please a man?" She nudged Ninani in the ribs. "That I can tell you, believe you me. Keep your mouth shut and your legs......" Ninani glared at the maid. "I find it hard to believe that you ever keep your mouth shut," she retorted, drily. "But that's not what interests me. I simply want to talk with one of the younger girls there. One who can be trusted to keep her mouth shut when she returns to her place."

Shrugging, Puabi thought for a moment. "One of my nieces works in the temple. Bright girl, name of En-Gula. She knows when to keep her peace."

Then she winked, and nudged Ninani broadly in the ribs. "And I hear she's just the girl to talk to about those other matters that you're not yet interested in. From all accounts, she's got a few effective methods of giving pleasure to a man "I would like to see her today," the princess said, pointedly.

Throwing up her hands in mock despair, Puabi marched off, muttering to herself: "I don't know what the world's coming to today. When I was in my prime, the men were lining up for..." Thankfully, a corner in the corridor cut off whatever else she was saying. Sighing, Ninani shook her head. A good maid in many ways, but a little too forward in others...

As she walked back to her own quarters in the palace, Ninani mused over the events of the past few weeks. Since the arrival of Ishtar and her enthronement in the temple, Kish had changed - for the worse. There was that mysterious work that was being done to the walls, for one thing. Ninani was not allowed to leave the palace compound at all now - for her own safety, her father had insisted - but Puabi had told her all about the ma.s.sive building project that seemed to involve strips of pure copper being laid over certain of the stones. Even her father had no idea why the G.o.ddess wanted this done.

Her father... He had changed the most. His old cheerful self had been changed into a grim, tired soul. His eyes held a haunted fear in them that sometimes, as earlier, erupted to the surface. Though he would never say it, she knew that he had grown to hate Ishtar. He was spending longer and longer hours in the temple of Kish's city-G.o.d, Zababa, praying that she would leave. These prayers, it would seem, were so far unanswered.

She knew how much these events must be preying upon him. Normally the kindest and wisest of men, he was now so harried and tired. He was too tired, or too frightened, to lift a finger against Ishtar. Well, whatever he said, she was the daughter of a king, and someone had to do something. She knew that he thought she was too tender to be capable of anything, but she would show him.

Though he had warned her off, Ninani couldn't simply stand aside and let his terrors gnaw away at his entrails. She would find a way to do something - anything - to help. Perhaps this acolyte of Ishtar's would be able to offer some advice.

The sacred prost.i.tutes of Ishtar were an old order of the priesthood.

Through the rituals that they performed, and the offerings that they gave and accepted in their bodies, the G.o.ddess was pleased to grant fertility and peace to the city. But of late, it seemed that fewer men went to the temple to partic.i.p.ate in the rites, and there were stories going about the palace that many of the men who went to the temple came back changed...

In her room, Ninani threw herself onto her small couch. Catching sight of herself in the polished bronze of her mirror, she sighed. She picked up the tortoisesh.e.l.l comb from her table and began to tidy her long, black hair. At least the rhythm of brushing kept her occupied for a while. She could forget, for a brief moment, the uncertainties and fears that she felt, and lose herself in the simple actions.

Her relationship with her father had always been her most precious joy.

She knew that few kings valued their daughters as anything more than p.a.w.ns to be married off to cement alliances. Yet her father had never treated her this way. On the contrary, he generally sought and listened to her opinions, and allowed her to cheer him out of bleak moods. He had always been gentle and loving with her - until the arrival of Ishtar. Now everything had changed. Ninani was grimly determined to restore their old relationship, even if it meant risking her life.

But would she be able to do anything? Could any mortal plot against a G.o.ddess - and live?

"What is that?" Wide-eyed and innocent, the Doctor followed Gilgamesh's disgusted gaze. "This?" He held up the offending object, a long, red cloak, and a.s.sorted items of clothing. "It's a disguise."

"A what?" "A disguise," the Doctor repeated. "They're all the rage this year.

You wear one to get into Kish without being spotted. The Kis.h.i.tes will think you are a merchant."

Curling his lip, Gilgamesh shook his head, firmly. "I will not hide myself behind the sc.r.a.ps and rags of a peasant tradesman. The king of Uruk will not play charades."

Ace cursed their luck. Why was the Doctor so frequently forced to work with idiots and buffoons? Even a simple matter such as a disguise was causing the hackles to rise in this king of Uruk. Patiently, the Doctor tried once again. "These guards were waiting for you here, Gilgamesh. They are expecting you in the city, obviously."