Tablet of Destinies (14 page)

The Falcon looked to Nergal to receive permission, but the Nefilim leader shook his head.

Son-of-a-bitch,
thought Brian. He had other weapons on his person, but to use them would be considered cheating.

The crowd were booing profusely, and to protest Nergal's decision they began to stomp their feet.

Brian looked up to see the master of ceremonies give a slight nod to someone in the crowd, whereupon a second spear came hurtling forth and into his awaiting grasp.

The crowd's great cry of approval empowered Brian and he actually found he was rather enjoying this challenge. The mutant beneath him had settled, as if awaiting its inevitable demise, but Brian still crawled carefully up the spine. As he neared the dripping fangs beyond which the beast's helmet lay, Brian got a firm grip on its neck with his legs. The creature's fangs, although ominous, could not strike him at this angle. Its only hope now would be to catch him unawares and throw him to the ground, where it could administer the fatal injection.

He is magnificent,
Aya observed as Brian carefully reached around the beast's fangs to release the catch to its helmet.

It's not over yet.
Nergal was quietly seething that his order to leave the warrior weaponless had been ignored. Lamamu's brother was more dangerous than he'd imagined, and the quicker he died the better.

Inserted in the mutant's brain was a disciplining device which inflicted it with grievous pain when its owners needed to restrain it. Nergal fancied that the curse of the beast might well turn out to be its saving grace.

Aya noted her father's finger poised on the button that triggered the beast's pain sensor.
I'll bet you ten of my best Falcons that he still wins,
Aya goaded him.

You're on.
Nergal pressed the button.

The beast beneath Brian began thrashing about violently and he lost his balance, sliding to one side of the mutant's head. He gripped the base of one of its large fangs to prevent his fall, and managed to right himself once more. Some dripping venom was cast onto Brian's hand during the attempt and it burnt his skin badly upon contact. ‘Ya … ouch!' Brian tucked the wounded hand under his good arm and clung on with his legs for dear life.

Finally, the beast collapsed on the ground exhausted and its unfastened helmet came flying off. Spear held high and ready to strike at his target, Brian raised himself to view the creature's face. What he saw was the agonised features of a human male — distorted and deformed — but human nonetheless.

This is no mutant of nature's design, Brian realised. He turned his baleful gaze to Nergal and the crowd fell deathly silent. ‘This abomination is of your design,' he accused.

Not mine personally,
Nergal explained.
I just found gainful employment for the species.

Brian was disgusted by this blatant disregard for humanity and he intended to make that point plain, even if it cost him his life.
I will not kill one of my own kind for entertainment.
He jumped down from the Lahmuian's back and walked into the beast's attack range to look it in the eye. Brian cast aside the spear and
all his weapons. ‘I am sworn to protect all humans from exploitation,
especially
the like of this man.'

The audience had mixed reactions about being referred to as kinfolk to the mutant, but their comments were whispers, for all eyes were riveted to the Governor as he removed the thought-wave neutraliser from his wrist.

Nergal's finger was poised on the creature's pain sensor control, ready to finish the beast off if this scene became too sentimental.

No father, please,
Aya appealed.
This is interesting, don't you find … the mutant could strike at any second. Surely he doesn't mean to communicate with it?

Nergal smiled, hoping this was the Governor's intent.
Perhaps I'll win our wager after all?

Brian stared at the creature for some time, before he ventured to move near to it. You could have heard a pin drop in the stadium as he steadily inched his way forward and came to rest both his hands on each side of the mutant's face.

A great sigh was heard from the masses, who were all moved to tears by the compassion and courage they were witnessing.

We really should put a stop to this,
Nergal suggested.
Heaven knows what information the creature has stored in its disturbed little brain.

Aya, frustrated by not understanding the crowd's emotions, nodded to agree.
This is the most boring conclusion to a spectacle that I have ever witnessed.

Brian was totally absorbed in receiving the mutant's horrendous memories, when he suddenly perceived a
sharp wave of pain that threw him clear of the beast. Its head exploded, splattering him with the remains. ‘No!' He raised himself to confront Nergal, who he suspected was responsible for inflicting the mutant's death.

‘It was not a killer by nature,' he announced, tears of conviction springing to his eyes. ‘You have made it thus!' He pointed a finger at Nergal, although he referred to all the Nefilim.

Ah, before you say anything you might regret,
Nergal said,
might I remind you that, as I was forced to put this pathetic creature out of its misery, you have lost your wager and thus your seat in the Senate is still in question.

Rebellion at this moment could place everything Brian cherished in jeopardy — his home planet and all his kindred. But there would never be such a perfect opportunity to win the confidence of the other human tribes. They didn't want to see a human representative in the Pantheon working in cooperation with the Nefilim.

What they needed was a leader who was not afraid to oppose the Pantheon's way — someone they could believe would lead an uprising against them.

All eyes rested on Brian, to see if he'd be manipulated into adhering to the Nergal's advice.

Don't you submit, Brian.
Rhun lay motionless staring at the ceiling, wishing he could cry out his thoughts.

Brian looked around at all his potential allies, their faces agonised as they awaited his response, then to Nergal, who appeared confident of getting his way. ‘My dear Lord Nergal … you can take your seat in the Pantheon and stick it where it pleases you most.
Humankind does not need Pantheon aid or permission to free its repressed masses. We shall see to it on our own.'

The triumphant roar which greeted Brian's words threatened to raise the roof from its foundations.

Nergal stood, enraged, intending to demonstrate his psychokinetic abilities on the rogue Governor.

Brian walked over to retrieve Rhun, who had managed to will himself free of the effects of his injury. The Governor helped his Vice-Governor to stand up, and then held his nephew's hand high in victory.

Suddenly, the cheering masses hushed and began to cower in fear — the Lord Nergal, his spouse, Ereshkigal, Nubu, Tashmet and Aya had all taken to the air.

This is all very touching … but you must understand we can't possibly indulge your little fantasy any longer.

Rhun looked to Brian, whose face had the darkest expression Rhun had ever seen him wear, and it was aimed right at Nergal.
Goddess help us, he's not going to back down.
They were both psychically gifted, but not so experienced at wielding the craft as the Nefilim were — and at two against five the odds were not looking good for them.

Dumuzi floated down into the arena.
Sorry, bro, nothing personal,
he explained to Nergal as he joined Rhun and Brian.
But I gave my word to the Dragon to protect these clowns.

Then die with them.
Nergal and his kin began to focus their deadly intent.

I must also protest.
Micah, Nergal's son, and his spouse, Shala, floated down to join the side of the Chosen Ones.

Then Ningal and her husband, Narnar, floated down into the pit, giving the opposition greater numbers.
I also owe the Dragon a debt of gratitude …
Ningal stood with the Chosen warriors to oppose her brother, Nergal.
The Pantheon has voted, the Chosen Ones walk free.

Gibal has not voted,
Nergal called for his other brother's deciding vote.

Gibal hated taking sides in family feuds, especially when there might be serious repercussions, but he owed the Dragon for saving him from an eternity of torment.
The Chosen go free,
he announced, whereupon all in the arena gave a mighty cheer.

Micah, who was beside Brian, touched his shoulder to gain his attention.
This victory will be the first of many for you, Lahmu,
he enlightened and gave the Governor a wink of encouragement.

‘Lahmu' was the name the crowd chanted, and Brian had thought it was to venerate the passing of the Lahmuian mutant.

It means Deity of War,
Micah advised with a smile.
Your coming is well known to us, although I was beginning to think we'd never find you.

The Lord stunned Brian with the claim. ‘I don't understand. Why are you calling me that?'

There is an old prophecy about Lahmu, the promised one who would rule the galaxy in the Pantheon's wake.

‘Surely you've got the wrong guy. It sounds like Maelgwn Gwynedd's type of destiny, not mine.'

Micah shook his head.
We thought for a long time that the Dragon was the one. But it was you who tamed the
Lahmuian, Brian Alexander, and this was prophesied as the defining act of Lahmu.

This piece of information left Brian in a state of confusion, as he and Rhun were escorted out of the stadium by the rogue Nefilim.

 

Inanna awoke in a fresh bed, wearing fresh clothes, and her room was filled with flowers. All the window shields had been opened to allow natural light to permeate the chamber. A spectacular purple sandstorm was raging outside.

My babe!
Inanna rose and looked about her quickly. Her panic subsided when she found her child's body in an enclosed case with a transparent lid, through which she could still view it.

The whole scenario was like a beautiful healing dream, so touching it made her gasp. That anyone would care enough to arrange for her suffering to be eased in this way, without her prior order, was completely beyond her comprehension. She knew who she had to thank, and looking around for him she spied the Dragon seated in a quiet corner.
Why do you insist on stirring my blood with your acts of kindness, when I know you hold no lust for me?

‘That's what friends do, Inanna. They help you out when you need it most,' he explained.

But when have I ever been a friend to you … when it wasn't to benefit my own cause, that is?

‘You haven't. Ever,' he advised for the record, his mouth curving to a cheeky smile. ‘But today could be your lucky day.'

So, your kindness does have a motive after all,
Inanna said, but as she owed Maelgwn several favours and he was so gorgeous when he smiled, she resolved to please him.
It seems today is your lucky day, Dragon … ask of me what you will.

‘Do you know where I might find the personal belongings you took from my Delphinus incarnation, Durak?' He put the question to her straight away, and it seemed to startle the Goddess, for it was obviously not a topic she'd anticipated.

Dear Gods, Dragon, you're not asking much.
She felt panicky as she scanned her memory, fearing she would not be able to satisfy his request.

‘I don't expect you to produce what I am looking for.' Maelgwn rose to approach her. ‘Just a clue as to where I might start to look would be helpful.'

Inanna's eyes narrowed as if she were insulted.
Oh ye of little faith.
She realised she didn't need to recall where she'd put the archaeologist's case, for she knew its distinctive appearance. Inanna raised her eyebrows seductively before holding out her hands and manifesting Durak's dusty old case, which she handed to the Dragon.

‘Astonishing.' Maelgwn grinned, impressed, as he took possession of the case.

Do I get a kiss for my efforts?
The siren in Inanna began to get the better of her, as it was prone to do whenever she felt well disposed towards any male.

Maelgwn's expression lost its warmth. ‘No. Now you get to tell me about my son.' He took hold of the Nefilim woman's wrist and led her to a seat. Any other man would have died for his presumption, but for this
man she made an allowance. ‘Let's start with the lies you told Zabeel about me.'

Please don't be mad with me, Dragon. Would a true friend act thus?
She needed to see him smile at her again, for it warmed her frosty insides like no other stimuli she'd ever known.

‘Yes, a true friend would,' he told her firmly. ‘A true friend would tell you that you don't need the physical love of another to feel good about yourself. The reason you feel so amicable in this instance is not out of desire for me.'

You could have fooled me.
The Goddess gazed at him with her lovely blue eyes.

‘Your interest stems from knowing that you are doing something right and good by helping me, without thought for your own gain or loss.'

The Goddess looked rather astonished at this suggestion, but gave it some serious consideration.
But that would mean that
—

‘You are utilising your astral body of emotion,' Maelgwn granted. ‘And, my dear Inanna, giving to another for the sake of doing the right thing is the basis of unconditional love.'

Inanna was excited beyond reason to finally experience and understand the secret knowledge that only mortals, and those Nefilim long since ascended back to their soul-source, understood.
What I am feeling, this is love?