The Spaces Between Us

by Ethan Johnson

  Mother grunted. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Gracie bounded up the stairs. “Great, I’m starving.”

  Agnes walked in and closed the door quietly behind her.

  CHAPTER 60: ESCAPE FROM NINEVEH

  Marc was relieved that dinner went well with his surrogate family, or more to the point, his future brother-in-law. Tobias and Inanna were rather matter-of-fact about this development. Marc and Inanna were fated to be together forever. He had traveled across time and found her at the brink of death, brought her to her brother who resided in the present day somehow, who in turn restored her to full health with only his touch.

  Tobias and Inanna had lots of explaining to do, that is, if Marc insisted on it. He felt fortunate to be alive, and Inanna wasn’t going to take a breakup well. He decided it was best under the circumstances to follow the path of least resistance… and greatest harmony.

  He did seize the opportunity to learn more about his host. Speaking as Inanna’s interpreter, Tobias made mention about enjoying a family meal together as that was something they had been denied for a long time. Millennia, Marc reminded himself. So how had Tobias come to live in the present day?

  Tobias chewed on a pine nut thoughtfully, and stared off into the middle distance, as though he were watching a scene projected onto one of the living room walls. After a few minutes, he shook his head and asked Marc how he liked his leaves.

  “Oh, uh, the salad? It’s really good.”

  “I am still getting accustomed to… the food of your people.”

  “You’re doing fine.” Inanna scooped up a handful of field greens and ate them happily, until Marc encouraged her to eat her salad with a fork. Inanna frowned, but with a pointed look from Tobias, she deigned to try this unfamiliar method. Marc stabbed a pile of field greens, taking care not to be too aggressive but with enough force to provide an effective demonstration.

  Inanna beamed, and followed along. She stabbed her salad, over and over, then twisted her arm awkwardly to strip the fork of the impaled greens. Marc smiled and showed her how to twirl the fork to make for a graceful approach to one’s mouth. Inanna knit her brow, then tried it for herself. Tobias clapped appreciatively.

  After they finished eating and had left the table, Tobias gestured to Marc to lean toward him. Marc was unsure of the reason for this request but decided to comply. He bent his head forward. Tobias waved him closer and closer, then put his hand on Marc’s forehead. He spoke a word unlike anything he’d ever heard before, and the room went dark.

  The sun was setting over Dubai, however it became clear that the room he was now standing in was obscured by a thick black smoke, but it didn’t affect his breathing. The smoke gradually lessened, and eventually he observed a moderately sized sand-colored stone brick room. There were no glass windows. Instead, there were thin slits in the walls, allowing for observation but not escape.

  He saw a thin man wrapped in dirty rags, tending to an earthenware jug that stood about half his height. His hair was dirty and matted, his facial hair dark and scruffy, beard long and unkempt. The man closed his eyes, and his breathing slowed. After a moment or two, he struggled to lift the earthenware jug and poured water through a horizontal slit in the wall to Marc’s right. The man sat the jug back down and repeated the process.

  Tobias, Marc thought. He went to him, and tried to help lift the jug, to ease his burden. He couldn’t interfere with what he was seeing, any more than yelling at the television affects the program.

  Over and over, Tobias created water, and poured it through the slit in the wall. Marc went to one of the vertical slits and tried to see what the water was for. He gasped when he caught a glimpse of the magnificent and indescribable Hanging Gardens of Nineveh. He tried to follow where the water was going, and he saw the shimmering top of an aqueduct. A sickening realization crept over him: Tobias was attempting to water a world wonder with the equivalent of a paper cup.

  “Attempting” being the operating word. This was a cruel punishment of some sort, and Tobias was clearly being set up to fail. The progress he made with what little he had to work with was astonishing.

  Horns sounded through one of the other windows. Tobias set the jug down and stepped wearily over to the window to heed the summons. The king stood in the square below, flanked by two guards.

  “Tobias, how goes your labor?” Tobias did not respond. “I certainly hope for your sake, if not your dear sister Inanna, that you are keeping my garden well fed.” Tobias did not respond. “Ho, what’s this, an ingrate! I am offended! Cut his rations by half.”

  A guard nodded. “As you say, my lord.”

  Tobias’s stomach rumbled at the news, but he otherwise did not reply. The king raised his hand, as if to signal someone that neither Marc nor Tobias could see from their abbreviated vantage point. A dark-haired woman was brought forth, her hands tied behind her back. She swore and spat, looking up defiantly. She showed signs of having been beaten very recently.

  Inanna. Marc felt ill.

  “I am a good king. I am a merciful king. But there is a price to be paid for my displeasure.” The woman was forced down to her knees. The largest of the guards stood before her and drew his sword. “This concubine has been nothing but trouble. I am a simple man, with simple pleasures. This one could not please me. This one will be released from my service.” The woman shrieked and pleaded for her life. In an instant, the sword was brought down, and the woman was without a head.

  “No!” Tobias dropped to his knees and wept.

  The king motioned for the remains of his failed concubine to be hauled away. The ground was streaked with blood as the guards pulled the carnage away in the direction in which they had come. “I am confident that you will not displease me with an ill-fed garden.”

  Tobias crumpled to the floor. The king made a summoning gesture. Another dark-haired woman was brought forth and forced to her knees. She swore and spat more forcefully than the last one.

  “Inanna?” Marc gasped. He could tell the difference now. Inanna’s form was much more familiar to him, and he was ashamed that he mistook the other woman for her, especially since he saved her life. Tobias looked up, apparently fooled by the similarity as well.

  “This concubine has been much more pleasing to me. She is quickly becoming my favorite.”

  Tobias cried out. “Inanna, no!”

  “Turn his silly garden to ashes. I will die proudly. We will die together. Our deaths will be more glorious than the king’s life, and every king of Nineveh thereafter.”

  The king struck her across the face. He looked up at Tobias angrily. “She will be punished for this insolence. See to it that I reserve my wrath for only her.”

  He waved to his guards, who dragged Inanna away. The king followed them with a wave to Tobias. “Return to your labors, Tobias. Do not fail me.”

  Tobias got up from his cell floor. He seethed as he returned to his jug, and he dumped water at intervals, all the while burning with the desire for vengeance. He balled his fists at his sides, squeezed his eyes shut, and in an instant a mound of dirt appeared in his cell. He stepped away from the jug and scooped up a handful of the dirt. He spoke some words over it, and it transformed into a torn hunk of bread. He chewed on the bread ravenously, speaking words of thanks to the heavens. He scooped up a smaller handful of dirt and spoke different words. The dirt became clear water, which he drank.

  A look of comprehension spread across Tobias’s face. He clawed and shaped the dirt with his bare hands, speaking different words as he went along. The dirt became clay, and he began to fashion it into bricks, which then solidified as if kiln-fired. He began to make a pile on the floor near the jug.

  When the dirt was nearly exhausted, he created another mound to work with, except this time it morphed into clay much quicker. Soon there were more bricks, and a growing pile. After repeating the process once more, he set the jug aside and stacked the bricks to serve as a cradle for the jug so it could be kept at the correct angle to p
our water hands-free.

  He smiled at this, then closed his eyes once more. His breathing slowed way down, and after a few moments of quiet, he began to chant something over and over—something unlike anything else he had uttered previously. Water began to trickle from the jug, in an ever-increasing stream.

  Marc watched as time sped up. Day and night became a blur, and Tobias ate food and drank water of his own making. This seemed to go on for at least a month, without any guard showing the slightest bit of interest. The king made no more shows of force, at least during the scene that Marc was observing.

  Time slowed to normal and the walls of the cell began to shudder. Tobias looked up from some fruit and glanced around fearfully. Sand and brick fell from the ceiling in wisps. Cracks formed up one of the walls, and across the ceiling. The water continued to pour unabated. Marc saw one of the other buildings through a vertical window slit begin to collapse. City dwellers ran around in a panic, crying out to the gods for mercy. A woman pressed her baby close to her breast only to be flattened by a stone brick wall that fell outward from another building. Tobias ran to the door and pushed, but it would not give way. He beat on the door with his fists and cried out for help but there was no reply. He had been left for dead.

  Tobias tried a different strategy. The crack in the wall had gotten larger. He ran his hands over it and spoke some sort of incantation. The brick dissolved into sand. He sat down on the newly created ledge and the brick wall underneath him became sand from the top down. Tobias rode the shifting sands to the ground and walked away unharmed. He looked around frantically to get his bearings. Marc floated to the ground behind Tobias.

  “Tobias!”

  He heard Inanna’s voice and ran toward it. He found her in the concubine’s quarters, reaching through a slit in the wall. He grabbed her hand and wept tears of joy. “Inanna, I am here. We shall escape this wretched city and raze it to the ground!”

  Inanna gave him an odd smile. “You will not.”

  Tobias gave Inanna a puzzled look. “Yes, yes, we shall escape together. We will raise a mighty army, and Nineveh shall know the wrath of Tobias.”

  Inanna shook her head. “Save yourself, brother.”

  Tobias ran his fingers over the slit in the wall, dissolving the brick into sand. “See, here, Inanna, I am coming to save you.”

  More walls collapsed behind Tobias, and the air was thick with the screams of the dying. Inanna backed away slowly from the transforming wall. Guards stepped forward and aimed their spears. Tobias shrieked something, and the entire wall was reduced to sand. The guards were knocked off balance, and their spears clattered on the floor. “Now, my vengeance has come! Death to those who enslave us!”

  Inanna shrieked and disappeared around the corner. Tobias and the guards heard a loud crack and in an instant, the ceiling collapsed down onto the guards. Tobias pulled his hands away in time. A split second slower, and they would have been sheared off. He looked at his hands in disbelief, then laid them down on the rubble. Solid brick became sand, and he raked his fingers around, looking for Inanna. He found only crushed bodies.

  The rumbling stopped. Tobias searched in vain for Inanna, but the room was too large and he couldn’t think of a way to sift through the wreckage effectively. He left the remains of the concubine’s quarters and headed for one of the massive city gates. He found one that had been damaged in the earthquake and left free of sentries. He stepped through the door, and looked out upon the Tigris River, and soon, freedom. He pressed his hand to the city wall and uttered a curse. “Mighty Nineveh shall be scourged from the land.”

  He ran to the river bank and found a fishing boat left unattended. He untied it from its mooring and crawled into the boat, then laid on the floor. The boat rocked and swayed and was soon carried adrift on the river currents. Tobias wept tears for his freedom, then grieved the loss of his sister.

  The smoke returned, blotting out the sun. Marc opened his eyes and saw Inanna. She stepped forward and pressed her forehead against his. He felt a burning intensity between his eyes. He squeezed them shut and listened to the voice in his head.

  Tobias sought vengeance, which has been denied to him. Now he seeks justice in the name of all who have none. He asks for your help. Will you help him in his time of need?

  Marc nodded. I will.

  Inanna kissed him tenderly.

  CHAPTER 61: INTO THE BREACH

  This, in a nutshell, represented what Sharon bitterly called the “woman tax”: she was driving late at night, alone, to a questionable neighborhood on her own time to investigate a cash-for-trash scheme that by all accounts made little economic sense, and was probably creating headaches for Streets and San that had yet to be fully realized. Her male counterpart was at home, probably drinking beer and watching bad television. She didn’t bother telling Gene her plans as he wasn’t exactly brimming with enthusiasm to help her out during daylight—and business—hours. Fine, she resolved to herself darkly, I’ll get to the bottom of this.

  She found a place to park close enough to the warehouse that she could run back to her car as need be, but far enough away so as not to attract much notice. She tried to blend in with some cars next to a tool and die shop.

  The temperature had dropped at least 10 degrees, but thankfully the air was still. She didn’t enjoy the cold, but the lack of wind made the conditions tolerable. She dressed for the weather this time, and more comfortably. She wore the darkest clothing she could find: A brown coat, black denim pants, a blue sweatshirt, and black winter boots with faux fur accents. She carried a stripped-down purse as well, which contained a digital camera, her phone, her car keys, and a can of pepper spray. She didn’t want any trouble, but she was a realist. She wrapped a knit scarf around her head, covering her ears, and got out of the car. She tried to shut the door as quietly as possible, but she found that quiet and a deserted industrial area didn’t exactly mix. Every noise seemed to be amplified by a factor of ten. She slipped on a pair of black gloves and crept toward the warehouse.

  When she got close to it, she found that all the bay doors were closed, and the steady procession of filled and empty shopping carts had stopped. At least they weren’t running a second or third shift doing collection, she thought. Which struck her as odd: there was less traffic at night, and as a result she assumed that a night shift would be ideal to move loads back and forth with minimal fuss. On the other hand, she considered as she blew a stream of vapor, the night hours weren’t exactly balmy. And they’d probably get noise complaints.

  She got close to one of the bay doors. It didn’t have any windows, but it wasn’t air tight either. She peeked through a crack and saw a man wearing all black pulling a pallet jack behind him, which in turn was hauling an overstuffed bin filled with garbage, bags and all. If they were sorting the trash looking for items of value, this pallet was heading for the designated area. So much for not running a second shift.

  She made her way toward the back of the building, testing the doors as she went along for any sort of breach points. All the bay doors were closed and locked. All standard entry doors were solid metal and locked, or only able to be opened from the inside.

  If there was one thing Sharon knew about warehouses, there would have to be a designated smoking area. It was risky, but worth looking for, especially if they had two-way access. The warehouse seemed pretty buttoned up, but that didn’t mean anyone hadn’t been careless or lazy. Sure enough, as she rounded the back of the building, she saw scattered cigarette butts dotting the snow. She slowed down and took her steps one at a time, pausing between each one to listen for the sound of anyone who might be near. Once she felt confident enough to continue, she took another step forward.

  She finally got close to the smoking area. From what she gathered, there couldn’t be more than three smokers in the building all told. The impressions in the snow suggested that they would come outside one at a time, smoke at least one cigarette, and then return to work. They either stood just beyond the do
or or leaned against one of the walls. It wouldn’t surprise her if at least one more simply propped the door open and blew smoke into the air, then flicked their spent cigarette into the snow before pulling the door shut.

  Sharon stood just off to the side of the door for what felt like hours. Her heart pounded as she thought about trying the doorknob. What if it was unlocked? What if she snuck in? Would there be cameras? Would somebody spot her? If she were discovered, what then?

  For all the good it was going to do her, she decided she would flash her ID badge. With any luck, a warehouse lackey wouldn’t know what they were looking at, and if she struck the right tone of voice and controlled the situation, she’d get a guided tour of the entire operation, or pull off a hasty retreat after sending the lackey on a fool’s errand.

  She sucked in her breath as the door creaked open just a sliver. A triangular ray of fluorescent light shot off in the opposite direction as puffs of smoke and breath vapor floated out into the night air from the breach.

  Sharon reached into her purse and felt around for the pepper spray. She held it in her gloved hand and pressed as close to the cold brick wall as she could. She closed her eyes and held her breath, bracing herself for possible confrontation. Before she could move, a white blur streaked toward a snow pile, and sizzled. The door clanked shut. The smoke break had ended without incident.

  Sharon exhaled and placed the pepper spray back in her purse. She crept forward again, eager to test the doorknob and plan her next move. Her plans were dashed when she felt someone grab her from behind. She sucked in her breath and tried not to scream. She wished she had heels on for this, as it would be more effective, but she had to work with what she had. She lifted her right leg and brought her boot down hard on her assailant’s foot. A male voice cried out “Jesus!” He let her go, and she dug around her purse to produce the can of pepper spray. She whirled around to go for her assailant’s eyes, when she recognized her would-be attacker: Gene hopped on one foot, muttering curses.