Five Immortal Hearts

by Savannah Rose

  “The dragons will war!” Inanna shouted from the scarred night above.

  I screamed.

  I felt them dying. I felt them clinging to me, all of them, millions of little hands, and wide begging eyes rolling in pain, washing away in flame.

  Her finger left my forehead, and I fell to the floor of the limo gasping and sobbing, my body wracked, and convulsing in terror and grief.

  “Now, ask me what I think of your heart,” she said, picking up a bottle from the side bar, and reading at the label. “Rum’s always a good choice.”

  I tried to rise but my body ignored my will, until she upended the bottle, and poured it on me.

  “Fuck!” I yelled.

  “Yes, fuck. That’s the issue, isn’t it? What to fuck, who to fuck, what fucking means, what it means to you, what it means to them, what it might mean… blah blah blah. You’ve read Gilgamesh. You’re an educated woman. Wake up! Of course, you fuck them. You civilize them. You tame them. You are their woman, the only power they will ever hold sacred. They chose this method of war long ago. They did it in the spirit that men used to decide wars through single combat. Two heroes fought, instead of two armies. One death, instead of thousands of deaths, and the spread of disease, crippled men, thousands of orphans, famine and the robbers and pirates who would swoop in soon after. Slavery, and the spread of despair avoided because one hero fought another. And what do you choose? Armageddon because of your heart? What a beautiful ethic you have. I hope it will comfort you, when you stand on scorched earth and the crumbling of infant bones.”

  The limo came to a stop and the door opened. “Now, get out.”

  “What…?” I gasped.

  “Get out. The meter is running. We’re done. Good-bye.”

  Then I was lying on the sidewalk in front of a hotel, and the limo was entering the traffic stream.

  I was wrong. I had no idea what Powers I was dealing with. None at all. Not the slightest notion. And now I was reduced to maniacal sobbing by my arrogance.

  My only saving grace was that my mind was mortal. It could not sustain that level of awareness, and soon the whole experience was a vague dream, and then it was difficult to remember a face, and then I could not conjure any element of the vision she subjected me to. It all just faded.

  If it had remained in the stark clarity she cast it with, I would have gone mad. I have no doubt of this. Feeling thousands – millions of children burn as they clutched at me to save them — how long could anyone sustain that, and not crack? Minutes? For me, I knew I wouldn’t have lasted half an hour. I don’t have any particular fondness for children, but I was human.

  Kane wasn’t just right, he was fucking right.

  He also sent the strawberry.

  I sighed, got up off the sidewalk, and dusted myself off. “Fine, I fucked up. And I was fucked in the head. Not the first time.”

  Two items were spinning in my brain, and now I allowed myself to look at them. One was the Epic of Gilgamesh. The second was the word, ‘dragons’. I also decided it was time to find out more about this woman, Inanna.

  Looking up at the hotel, it appeared to be a nice one, and probably not random. She seemed more the Fate kind of gal, rather than the Random kind.

  Since I didn’t care about price, I went in, got a good room with a bath tub and checked in. After a bath I had the porter come up, and did some quick shopping through him, then had two women come up and described some shoes and outfits, and sent them off with money.

  I called down to the desk and had them send up a new laptop, after ensuring they had the specs I needed. Once all that was acquired, and the last of my minions dismissed, I spent four hours in an open robe, nude tanning on the deck, researching my three topics of interest.

  Inanna was an ass-kicking bitch. Funny as hell too. Goddess of sex and war.

  Yippy ki ya, mother-fuckers.

  Her father appeared to be the god of gods, but Inanna clearly ran the show. She told heaven what they were going to do, and no one talked back. Except one, and he didn’t as much talk back as guide, and teach. His name was Enki. A wizard, I supposed. Powerful, and knowledgeable, but not quite a god in the regular sense. Also, someone not to fuck with, and no one did, including Inanna. They seemed to view each other as equals. Peers. Though Enki held the position of elder. This didn’t keep Inanna from taking all his shit, but did help Enki with getting some of it back. That story was hilarious.

  Inanna was linked strongly with the dragon Kur. Kur appeared to be the first dragon of written history – which doesn’t mean it was the first, only that we don’t have any records of an earlier dragon. Kur lived in the nothingness, the void, the abyss of death which was also the gate for rebirth; a spiritual realm. Cylinder seals showing a goddess believed to be Inanna portrayed her standing on a dragon, for she is addressed in hymns as the dragon. It may be she who is prayed to as "my dragon who walks by side". Inanna's dragon aspect marks her underworld divinity.

  The dragon is a powerful mythic symbol that represents feminine principles. Often associated with mountains (breasts) and caves (vagina or womb), Sumer's dragons are said to dwell in the great abyss of depth and nothingness, the nether world. In that the word for the great dragon of the abyss in Sumerian myths is the same as the word for the underworld itself (kur), some of their attributes may be conflated and thereby become synonymous. "The serpent and the dragon reveal her [Inanna's] connection with the underworld aspect of the Neolithic goddess and with Nammu, the serpent goddess of the abyss" (Baring & Cashford 195).

  That was interesting to me, but where were the five brothers in all of that? Also, this appeared to talk about an actual dragon, not brothers who were princes. I couldn’t find anything about them at all, not in connection with her. There was mention of a husband – who she condemned to hell for half the year, every year…

  Inanna was right, in that I had read the Epic of Gilgamesh, but that was in High School, a long time ago. Gilgamesh was an asshole. He was the strongest warrior, offspring of the gods, but living in the mortal world as a demi-god with no peer or equal. He became bored with no challenge and no friend. So, he terrorized people. He took their daughters and wives as he wished. Beat men when they objected.

  To solve this, the gods created Enkidu. But he was wild. Born from the mountains he was little more than animal in human form. To civilize Enkidu, Shamhat, the priestess of the Uruk-Haven temple was called in.

  Shamhat unclutched her bosom, exposed her sex, and he [Enkidu] took in her voluptuousness. She was not restrained, but took his energy. She spread out her robe and he lay upon her, she performed for the primitive the act of womankind.

  His lust groaned over her; for six days and seven nights Enkidu stayed aroused, and had intercourse with her until he was sated with her charms. But when he turned his attention to his animals, the gazelles saw Enkidu and darted off, the wild animals distanced themselves from his body.

  Enkidu ... his utterly depleted(?) body, his knees that wanted to go off with his animals went rigid; Enkidu was diminished, his running was not as before. But then he drew himself up, for his understanding had broadened.

  Turning around, he sat down at Shamhat's feet, gazing into her face, his ears attentive as she spoke.

  Shamhat said to Enkidu: "You are beautiful," Enkidu, you are become like a god. Why do you gallop around the wilderness with the wild beasts?

  Come, let me bring you into Uruk-Haven, to the Holy Temple, the residence of Anu and Ishtar…

  ~ Epic of Gilgamesh: Tablet One

  Wasn’t one of the names Inanna used for herself, Ishtar?

  Sitting back from the desk, with these thoughts tumbling in my mind, an idea formed, which felt like it fit the situation, and the need. Inanna was right. Not so much that I was being childish, but rather thinking as a mortal, human, and of the present age. In Inanna’s time, in Sumer, this situation was much different, and it was easy to see how she would feel her point of view was more mature. Seen further up the history
lines, into the middle ages and beyond, viewing this as seen by royal families, changed it as well. This was a matter of state and power. Marriages were political tools, not for love. In many areas of the world where royal families were concerned, this was still true to form. Marriages created allies and peace between countries.

  Clearly Kane understood the situation. He understood it before I was ever born.

  Also, didn’t I have a responsibility here to the world as well? Certainly I didn’t ask for this responsibility, but who gets to ask in these situations? My decision should not be based on who I loved the most or who bedded me best. It should be based on who I believed was best for the world. To make such a choice I must know each as best as I was able.

  A man often showed who he was in bed more than any other situation. Not just in sex, but also in sleep, when the face no longer conformed to the demeanor chosen for facing the world. When he was relaxed in deep sleep, his true face could be seen.

  Just after midnight, and a late diner, I decided on my course of action from this point forward.

  Blank Slate

  Slate’s appearance was striking. I felt pleased by this response to seeing him at my door. It meant that my decision last night meant something to me, and would therefore mean something to them as well.

  “Do you have my ring?” I asked. It was unfair. He knew nothing about my decision, or how I intended to act from this point forward, but the look of confusion on his normally confident countenance had a cute appeal.

  “Ring?” he asked.

  I held up my nude left hand. “I’m to be your bride or to act as such in order to make an informed decision, correct?” I asked, and wiggled my ringless finger.

  “I… well, that is, yes…? But…” he tried, looking cuter by the second. Any moment he would reach puppy level.

  “No, then? Well, come back when you have one,” I said, adding playful carelessness to my voice, and shut the door.

  I thought I heard a curse from the other side. It could have been the wind.

  I laughed. No it couldn’t.

  Slate must have taken the request to heart. It was close to noon before he knocked on my door again. I was beginning to think I misread him. He changed clothes as well. Gone was the white suit and he now wore a beige, well-tailored, but casual cut outfit, made of light cotton canvas, and silk. No tie either, which was a first as well. He stood on the threshold, proffering the ring in an open box made of onyx on his open palm. The ring was brilliant gold with a stone that bent light to its will.

  I purred a pleasing note in my throat, and took the ring, placing it on my finger, then stepped forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply — which he was also unprepared for, but managed an agreeable recovery.

  “Thank you lover,” I whispered in his ear. Then stepping back while taking his hand, I asked, “Would you like to come in? Or have I made us late for something? I see you’ve taken the time to change clothes.”

  “We are due somewhere, but there is time to change if you wish to, though what you are wearing is more than acceptable,” he answered.

  “Aren’t you the sweet talker,” I smiled. “Where are we expected?”

  “The President’s home, or rather, the one he has in Mexico City.”

  “Hmm,” I murmured, looking down at my outfit. “And who am I to be? Your assistant? Your girlfriend? Wife to be? Whore?”

  “Assistant, personal assistant,” he said, without a hint of pause.

  “Then I believe this will do, let me grab my laptop case, and we’ll be off.” I left the door open as I went to gather a few things like a passport and bank cards. Always good to have such things. Once ready, I returned and took his arm. “Let’s not keep El Presidente waiting.”

  In the limo he handed my an ebook reader, a better one than I had left with Kane when I stormed out, and flew here with nothing but my passport, IDs and bank cards. On the screen was a book on Aztec mythology. I didn’t bother to ask, but dove into the book, speed reading through the volume, skipping superfluous passages, and committing several areas to memory. My reporter training and experience served me well at times like these. I finished the volume and was into the next, which was more of an anthropology thesis on Aztec society, before the limo slowed and pulled up to a large black iron gate. The wall here was red brick, and the guards openly armed, wearing military uniforms.

  The gate opened and our driver pulled into a long driveway which hooked back around to another gate for exiting. The house was enormous. I’d never done the sightseeing thing here in Mexico City, so this was my first look at the President’s home.

  The area of Los Pinos, in Mexico City, was the most affluent in the country, that I had seen anyway. People with less than twenty million a year income, didn’t live here. In US dollars that was a bit over one million. This home, I read, had a price of $86 million.

  Current news for the country at this level, included some rough times with the US, a new project launched for a bullet train, and a large deal with China. The influx of business from China promised some real changes in Mexico. What shape those changes might take remained inside a cloud of obscurity. With the level of corruption in the government, and the influential power of the Drug Cartels, it took a lot of squinting to see anything clearly in the political arena. A strong relationship with China could push this country on its heels or turn it on its head — throwing everything up in the air. Times were changing, however and I was genuinely interested in seeing how Slate would handle things.

  “What context should I put all of this in?” I asked Slate.

  “Space program,” he said, as the driver opened his door, and he stepped out of the car with a grace rare to my eyes.

  Space program? What the hell? I thought, and then remembered the word, dragons. OK, then, space program for the Aztecs it is, I corrected myself, then slid over and tried to be graceful too.

  The President waited on the steps of the house, but stepped down to greet Slate, instead of waiting for Slate to step up to him. My borrowed knowledge from Kane told me this was done with purpose, to demonstrate equality between them. The only reason the President would make this gesture was if Slate was perceived as the greater between them. For the visiting president of Brazil or Germany or the US, he would have remained on the stairs. For someone obviously below him in power, he would have stood up on the porch or likely not outside to greet them at all, awaiting them in his office.

  Looking at my new ring, I felt another intuition, stronger than Kane’s, agree with this assessment. Did I somehow take on the aspect of Slate’s bond mage as well?

  How? A question I felt was important at this point, and needed an answer, soon; before I did something by accident, or with the wrong perspective in mind.

  Slate turned, introducing me, and keeping el Presidente on the ground level to meet me as well. This was not expected, but the President didn’t miss a beat, and took my hand as a gentleman takes the offered hand of a woman. It was Mexico, and such slights were too common to comment on or take seriously. I bent my knee slightly, and then followed them inside. This was Slate’s show, and like the Cartel, I had a news story here, if I kept my ears open, and my feelings to myself.

  It crossed my mind that Inanna would have no trouble with these perceived slights on her status as woman. She would see them as advantages, and weapons, just as she would see sex. She might even have insisted on them, pointing them out with disdain if they were not proffered or etiquette not followed. With that thought, I made the decision to follow in like mind.

  From head to toe and front to back, I would insist on being treated as a woman, as well as the most important person in the room. With a grin I followed the men inside, picturing them in my head as leading the way for me, as servants should.

  In his office, the President led Slate to a small grouping of short couches, around a coffee table and sat across from him. There was a stuffed chair between them at the head of the table, but this would have been f
or someone of lower rank. I chose instead to scan the titles on the bookshelf for the moment. Men had a habit of filling these shelve with titles, rather than books as a woman would. The titles were able to be read from a distance, and hence offering the personality the owner wished to portray.

  The men didn’t wait for me to be seated, and that was hoped for, as I wished to listen without having to give comment, either through question or facial expression. I noted this advantage came only through my status as a woman, and felt interested in what other advantages I would find in this new persona I chose to wear.

  As a professional woman, in the market I worked in, I had to be on guard at all times against slight, or insinuation. It felt like that, anyway. My equality only existed as long as I defended it against all challenges. Inanna would laugh at my efforts — at first at least.

  Perhaps she would alter her stance if placed in my position, with my limitations. True or not, what I had was a rare opportunity to test assumptions I have made over the course of my professional life, and to experience the world from a different view. Make no mistake, I am a professional woman, and would never allow my equality or ability to be challenged based on my sex. However, this was a rare, and perhaps singular opportunity, which I chose to explore.

  ***

  Slate Silver, held court in the President’s office. Clearly the one in charge, he sat relaxed in the short sofa, listening to the President’s idle chit chat for several minutes. Most of this consisted of the President’s view of the latest gossip and scandal reports. All of them he reported as false with only the most flattering reports being true, and written by enlightened citizens.

  “And to my question?” Slate asked, when a moment opened in their conversation.

  “What is Mexico going to begin, to bring us up on the world stage as a first world country?” El Presidente asked. “Of course, this admits that we are not already there.”