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The Ananaki Page 3

their morning meal. I burst into the galley and paused in the doorway. Every eye – save one – went instantly to me. Jaws dropped and conversation died as they caught sight of my countenance, but one lone figure hunched closer over his bowl and kept eating, desperately pretending to a normalcy that no longer existed. I was at Simha’s side in two strides and snatched him off the bench before he could speak. I dragged him, gabbling and protesting, from the room and threw him against the rail. “Get back to your meal!” I snarled as my crew rushed to follow me, and they uncertainly halted at the door. Nemadon, as bewildered as the rest but loyal to a fault, shooed them back to the tables and – reluctantly – closed the door upon them.

  “Are you mad?” I demanded once I was assured of our privacy. If my crew discovered what Simha had done, they would lynch him on the spot.

  He visibly decided that further protestations of innocence would be useless. “I only wanted to show you that those gods of yours are unworthy of your respect,” he whined.

  “What did you do? Exactly?”

  He cast his eyes from side to side, seeking an avenue of escape, but I was implacable and held him pinned against the rail. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the fins of fire sharks swimming nearby, and Simha could too. “I – I only went into the altar… Just to see what it was like.”

  “What did you touch?”

  “There was a small box – I picked it up, but I didn’t do anything.”

  I half-lifted him over the rail and he yelled in terror. “All right! All right! I – I – there were some areas that I pressed on the box. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  I dropped him back on the deck and loomed over him. “Because of your defiling their sacred space, the gods have refused to speak with me. I have no way of knowing if there are storms in our path or if the Ananaki will continue to shelter us with these calm waters and favorable winds. For all I know, they have even now called out their sea monsters against us. You may have doomed us all with your impiety!”

  He began to quake. A true landsman, he had never been comfortable on the ship once we left sight of the shore. “But – but – surely they wouldn’t…”

  “Oh no? Do you know how many vessels they doomed last year alone? So much for your certitude that they are undeserving of our devotion!” I caught him by the arm and dragged him to his feet.

  “What are you doing?” His face twisted in fear as he again caught sight of the sharks.

  “You are coming with me. Back to the Holy of Holies, where you will repair the Amulet of Summoning and apologize to the gods.”

  The blood drained from his face, leaving him a muddy gray. “But – but they will surely destroy me.”

  “Probably.” I kept dragging him along. I was too concerned about the rest of us to spare pity for this blasphemer.

  I forced him into the small room and thrust the Amulet at him. “What did you do?”

  His hands trembled as he reached for it. “There was a small square – here – that I pressed in, and I – I slid my finger along this ridge here, moving it.”

  “Move it back.” I was implacable, and shaking with fear he did so. Both of us more than half expected a lightning bolt to come through the roof at us any moment, but the skies remained cloudless and the seas smooth as glass.

  Finally, “That’s how it was. I think.”

  “You think?” I bit off further recriminations. The idiot had done his best to restore the Amulet. Now we would have to see if it worked. I had Simha kneel beside me, then went through the ritual.

  Nothing. After several moments, I glared at Simha, and he diffidently reached over and fiddled some more. Abruptly, the air around us was filled with the whispery rustling of the gods. Simha squeaked and tried to bury his head in the wooden deck.

  I swallowed hard. “Oh, great and noble Ananaki. Oh, wise and merciful gods. I, Kasker, call to you.”

  “Who the grik is on this frequency? Stan, is that you? Is this some kind of joke?”

  Simha raised his head and gazed at me in astonishment. I was too stupefied to answer, and the new voice went on.

  “Stan? If the colonel hears you playing on this frequency, she’ll stick you out the nearest airlock, you waste of cube. What are you playing at?”

  “I beg your pardon, my lord, but I am not this Stan of whom you speak. I am Kasker, a humble shipmaster from Jofra. I beg forgiveness for bothering you, divine one.”

  “What? Hey, listen, this is a controlled frequency, buddy. You should know better than to transmit on a military band. You’re in violation of at least three intersystem regulations.”

  “Please accept my humble apologies, my lord. I am but a mere mortal and know nothing of the gods’ affairs. The Amulet by which I contact you has been --- not working of late.”

  “Gods? What the – Hey, Hsien, get me some triangulation on this signal. Where is it coming from?” There was a brief pause, while I was uncertain what to do, then the new god’s voice let out a low whistle. “From way the grik over there? Good grief. What the – Hey, Colonel! Over here!”

  “What’s the matter?” Another god joined the conversation, but I couldn’t tell whether this boded good or ill for us.

  “Ma’am, look at where this signal is coming from. Yeah, exactly. They shouldn’t have internal combustion let alone intersystem comm beacons.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Kasker of Jofra, noble goddess. Are – are you Ananaki as well? Did I so displease my lady Astarte that she has forsaken us? May we not make new obeisance so that she does not cause her face to frown upon us?”

  “What the – Stand by, er, Kasker.” There was a longer pause, with much whispering. I didn’t dare raise my head from the floor. This was entirely unprecedented in my experience. I had never spoken with an Ananaki other than Astarte and Ohtolam… If the priests knew of these other gods, they were keeping the knowledge a secret.

  Finally, the new gods returned. “Okay, Kasker, tell me about these Onnernoks of yours. How exactly do you talk to them?”

  I did my best to answer their questions, although their manners of speech were new and strange to me. They seemed very excited about the Amulet and even had me search for and describe some hidden markings to them. They quizzed me closely about my fealty to the Ananaki – how long my family and I had worshiped, whether we had been among the earliest converts when the Ananaki first manifested to us in my grandfather’s time, how the Ananaki’s ways differed from that of the old religions… Not knowing what answers were best, I had no choice but to tell the truth, and at the end the silence went on for so long that I nearly gave us up for lost. Clearly my fate was being decided – perhaps because of my sin in allowing a blasphemer to enter the Holy of Holies – and these new gods were my judges. I was about to plead with them to spare the life of my crew, if not my own, when the “Colonel” god spoke.

  “Kasker, you are a good servant to us, and you have answered my questions well.”

  A great weight seemed to lift off my shoulders. Perhaps I would yet see my children again.

  “I want you – what? I told you not to disturb me – Who? Oh, that’s all right then. Yes, pull them off their patrols and get them over there. Some lowlife is looting these poor primitives using the old god gambit with electrical feedback from jury-rigged transmitters to compel obedience. I want them off that planet and in my brig before this week is up. I don’t care how many schedules get reshuffled. Do you read me? – Okay, Kasker, where were we? Oh yeah. Right. Okay, well, you’re a good disciple and, uh, I promise that you and yours will lead full and happy lives. And, um, you’ll catch plenty of fish, and – what? Oh, yes – and I’ve decided to make you my messenger.”

  I choked. Me? A messenger of the gods? I was but a simple sailor!

  But the gods’ decisions are not to be questioned, and she continued to speak. “You are to continue your voyage, Kasker, but do not use the Amulet
ever again. For you must – uh – purify yourself to carry my message. Don’t fear; I will watch over you. And when you get to Jofray, I want you to tell your people that the Ananaki are – um – are very pleased with all of you. But we are – um – moving on. You and your people have learned all that we can teach. You should return to the ways of the ancestors. Live as you used to live – you need no longer pay tribute to us. You should start to think for yourselves. Worship as you see fit. And, um, you know,” for a moment her voice grew more hesitant, then once again grew in confidence, “live long and prosper. That’s all.” Her voice, and the whispery rustling cut off with a final, heart-stopping click.

  In the silence that followed, my thoughts whirled about like dry leaves in a wind. It was hard to know what to think. The Ananaki leaving? Me, their messenger? The old ways once again permitted? Simha was staring at me as if I were transformed.

  “You,” he breathed. “You are the herald for the gods.”

  I nodded, jerkily.

  “You. The divine envoy.” He dropped his head to the deck again, groveling before me.

  The sight embarrassed me and with that some normalcy returned. “Yes, yes. Get up already.” It seemed our atheist had been reborn. “Come.”

  I pulled him to his feet and out of the Holy of Holies. As we came out of the doorway, my entire crew was waiting in attitudes of fear and dread. I saw with a jolt