True Believers

by Maria Zannini

  “We must be going at this the wrong way. How can we miss our target so many times?”

  “Is it possible the gods don't want to be found?” Senit sat in the chair across from Jessit, throwing his feet up on the low table in front of him.

  “Perhaps we should have the priests bless our journey before we embark on the next signal. Perhaps we need a sacrifice.”

  “Don't look at me,” Senit said with a smirk. “I'm a heathen, remember?”

  “I should have gone this morning. Maybe the gods know you're a heathen, and they're punishing us.”

  “Taelen, how in all that's holy did you grow up to be a soldier? You talk like a priest. Besides, you're still recuperating.”

  “Don't mock my faith, Senit.”

  “Then stop talking like those ball-less wonders. I think the only thing that separates you from the priests is that you still have your testicles.”

  Jessit cringed at that remark. “You can go.”

  Senit headed for the door, hesitating before opening it. “I'm sorry, Taelen. That was out of line. I didn't mean what I said.”

  “It's all right. I'm used to your sinfulness. Maybe I keep you around to make me look more pious.”

  Senit grinned at him. “Glad to know I'm doing such a fine job.” He patted Jessit on the shoulder gently, still mindful of his injuries. “Good night, Taelen. Maybe we'll have better luck tomorrow.”

  Jessit locked the door behind Senit and marched back to the bar, the decanter of brandy whispering temptation. He tugged at his tunic, reassuring himself he still had his gonads…and his cowardice.

  Priests did not join the brotherhood of free will. They were tested, inducted when they had passed the most stringent trials. The most critical of which was the Call of Anu. Only those who could bear witness to the gods' glory were allowed into the sacred convention of the Holies. As a final act of sacrifice, as it had been since the beginning, a man had to forfeit his testicles in reverence to the gods.

  Jessit pulled the thick glass stopper off the decanter, inhaling its urgent draw. He'd been tested like all the others. Unlike most postulates, he had witnessed the glory in vivid detail. But when the examiners had applied the rigors, he lied. No matter how barbed the lash, he lied. His faith was not strong enough to sacrifice his manhood. He clinked the rim of the decanter across a thick wide glass. The liquid sloshed to the very edge of its lip—and then stopped.

  Jessit stared at it. A hard lump formed in his throat. His hands felt like lead, and it took all his strength to put the bottle down. His shame, his cowardice haunted him still.

  He had lied.

  ***

  Jessit had begun d'rema, the final rite of purification, and he insisted on going to the planet surface to complete the sacrament alone. His physician, El'asai, complained bitterly, but Jessit assured him he was strong enough to withstand the menze.

  Senit also objected. He'd been harder to convince and Jessit finally had to concede to some restrictions. He'd perform d'rema at the cave where they found the glyphs. Senit promised to observe his privacy, but Jessit had to promise to call for a transport when he was through.

  The cave had been prepared for him before his arrival and he would be alone as he ordered. Jessit walked out of the shuttle and gave the signal for the pilot to depart.

  Jessit took a deep breath before entering the cave. Even from this distance he could smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of the menze, the incense that opened the mind and allowed the faithful to see their gods—if the gods so deigned.

  The cave glowed in candlelight and warm woodsy incense scented the air. Deep bowls of water raised the humidity in the grotto, and Jessit breathed in comfort. This part of Earth was too dry for an Alturian. The extra humidity was a blessing.

  He cast a furtive glance to the smooth sandstone wall, where the carved image of Anu's son stared down at him. The cave lay barren of all but what his aides left for him, yet he felt a strange presence. Not a single presence, but many. They surrounded him in this place. A cold ache filled his belly, as if he had trod on sacred ground. Maybe this was a bad idea.

  Jessit mumbled prayers for clemency under his breath and disrobed until he was nearly nude, his pelvis wrapped in little more than a thin, white loincloth.

  The throb in his midsection mellowed. Perhaps the ancient souls that remained here had forgiven his trespass.

  He knelt on a thick prayer rug and bowed before an effigy of Anu. Wispy tendrils of smoke curled from the gold-filigreed tabernacle sitting behind the icon. To Jessit's left sat a wide, shallow cauldron of warm, red oil. He opened the lid of the box to let more of the drugged smoke out. The menze had been lit before his arrival. It would smolder for hours now. He had a long night ahead of him.

  Jessit dipped a flattened ladle into the bowl of oil and brought it to his chest, dribbling it over his shoulders and across the three narrow bands of webbed skin tiling the lower half of his ribcage. He massaged it over his body until his skin glistened. The incense was already working its magic, and he felt a tinge of wooziness sway his body to the rhythm of his prayers.

  He hated using the incense. He hated using anything that dulled his senses, but it was part of the purification. And this time, he had to see the gods, had to speak to them. His eyes narrowed into thin slits until they acclimated to the smoky darkness of the cave.

  Jessit wet his lips and tried to remember what he'd had for breakfast this morning. The incense was stealing his memories, and he lapsed into conscious oblivion. He glanced down at the kettle of charring wood as it released its toxin of enlightenment.

  Once more, Jessit invoked the name of Anu and the Hundred. Once more he prayed for deliverance and blessing. Jessit had performed this ritual since he was a boy. He uttered the ancient words, his body brown and slick, swaying gently within the thick white smoke from the incense.

  Prudence warned him that the thickening smoke should worry him, but his body yielded to the intoxicating effects of the hallucinogen in the incense. He chanted his prayers, getting louder and louder. It almost didn't matter when he heard the smoke talk back to him. The dialect was stilted, but it spoke in the ancient language of priests.

  “How strong is your faith, believer?”

  The incense lulled him into submission. He listened to the disembodied voice croon to him, demanding his attention.

  “Command me, Lord Anu. I will obey.” Jessit's words were soft and slurred.

  “You are surrounded by unbelievers. They taint this world.”

  “Earth? It is the planet of the humans.” He tried to open his eyes wider, but all he could see was the smoke.

  “It is the planet of Anu's sons. The humans have committed sacrilege against us.” The voice grew loud and angry, echoing against the cave walls until the din became too great to bear.

  Jessit's knees trembled at the ire of this ghost. He wanted to let his body collapse, but fear of showing disrespect forced deeper resolve. “I am the instrument of Anu,” he replied in prayer.

  “You are my instrument, Taelen Jessit. See me for who I am.”

  Every candle in the cave flashed at once in a brilliant death, leaving only the shimmering form of a figure within the white smoke of the incense. Jessit's eyes flared wide when he recognized the figure in front of him. The palms of his hands hit the ground, followed by a solemn bow of obeisance. He didn't dare raise his face from the rug. “Command me, Lord Gilgamesh. I am your servant.”

  Jessit thought he heard a muffled laugh, but he dared not look up. Sweat pearled down his oiled body, and the room seemed to close in around him. His eyes mutated to fullest vision, though all he could see was the pattern of the rug beneath him. His mind raced to grasp the smallest drop of lucidity. Was he really seeing a son of Anu? Or was this a trick of the hallucinogen?

  The apparition spoke to him once more. “Can you see the humans from space?”

  Jessit looked up at him, uncertain of how to answer. Their visual scanners were precise enough to see anyth
ing on the planet surface except when the magnetic shield warped and thickened. He wet his lips, hoping he didn't say anything to upset his god. “Our sensors are most accurate, Lord.”

  A shockwave rushed through the cave, a sure sign of Gilgamesh's displeasure. He glided forward and stared into Jessit's eyes as if trying to evaluate his worth. At the moment, Jessit was feeling particularly insignificant.

  “We have detected a disturbance across the globe. Earth suffers from immense waves of magnetic interference. Are the humans responsible for this sacrilege? Or is this the work of your people?”

  Jessit prostrated himself once more, his head touching the nap of the carpet before answering. “It is not us, Divinity. The humans have developed a technology that distorts the magnetic field surrounding the planet.” He gulped, not wanting to ask the next question. “Why is it sacrilege, my Lord?”

  The entire cave lit up like a firestorm, and a roar of thunder quaked the interior of the cave. The noise was so great it pounded against Jessit's ribcage like a hammer. Jessit pressed the palms of his hands against his ears, but it did nothing to soften the uproar.

  This god was angry.

  “Any fool can see its profanity! You will make it stop.”

  Jessit kept his head down, speaking only to the carpet. “We cannot, Divinity.”

  “You dare defy me?”

  Jessit shook his head in response, though he wasn't sure if it emanated more from the trembling in his bones. The walls came alive with the sound of mortal wailing.

  “We are the faithful, Holiness. But I have only one ship, and we have yet to find the source of the shield.” By this time he was sweating profusely. “But…” He hesitated, breathing hard. What he said next would commit them for good. “We have an armada a few days away. It serves Anu and his sons.”

  The thunder ceased in an instant.

  “Look at me, Taelen Jessit.”

  Jessit took a shallow breath, both his hearts pounding as if trying to escape from his chest. When his eyes looked up, the man he had seen over Rachel's body stood before him in robes of light. The god's brilliance was almost too much to bear, burning his eyes with radiance. Jessit wavered on his knees, his thoughts as clumsy as his sway.

  Gilgamesh smiled at him, a wicked leer that made Jessit's stomach twist. He was seeing double, and the incense made it hard to breathe.

  “I am the instrument of your will, Lord Gilgamesh. I am the faithful.” The words slurred more heavily and Jessit teetered on the brink of collapse.

  “Stop this abomination on the Earth. It is your quest, your bond to me. If you fail me in this mission, none of you will see home again.”

  Gilgamesh dissipated in a shower of light that sparkled all across the room and relit the candles.

  Then the room for Jessit snapped to black.

  ***

  It was Senit who found him the next morning. Jessit thought his head was going to implode, his nostrils still plugged by the drugged smoke. D'rema hangovers. He choked on the water Senit tried to feed him. “Enough.” He spat out some of the water. “I'm all right.”

  Senit helped him sit up. “I knew I should have stayed with you.” He shot a glance at the burnt candles eaten away to their nubs and the charred remains of the incense. “They make the hallucinogens too strong.”

  Jessit rubbed the back of his neck, his body still slick from the oil. His mouth tasted as if he'd swallowed old underwear, and he smacked his lips to try to ward off the tang. “Get me back on board ship. I need to contact the Emperor. Something happened last night.”

  “El'asai should see you first.”

  Jessit stumbled to his feet. “Don't argue with me. The gods are in danger!”

  Senit eyed him with suspicion. “That's exactly what the high priest said. He was performing the d'rema ceremony in the open desert. He claims Lord Gilgamesh came to him and ordered—”

  “He ordered the com-web destroyed,” Jessit said, finishing Senit's sentence. He rubbed his temples. This headache was going to last all day. “Help me up. I need to talk to the Emperor. The son of Anu has committed us to a test of faith. If we fail him…” Jessit stared into Senit's worried face. “Get my woman on board ship. I don't think she's safe down here anymore. I don't think any of us are.”

  Chapter 13

  Rachel was grinding her teeth down to the gums when Denman showed up in her room. In his hands were a folded bleach-white dress and a pair of tatty brown leather sandals piled on top. He handed them to her like an offering and when she refused to take them, he tossed them down on her bed.

  She glared at him, hurling the dress and sandals across the room in a final act of defiance. Where the hell was Gilgamesh? He needed to rein in this mule. “You're insane. I'm not bedding with any man.”

  “You'll bed with this one, or you and your family will never see daylight again.”

  Denman grabbed her by the hand and twisted it, forcing her to sit down at the edge of the bed. He sat down next to her, the additional weight on the mattress rolling her body toward him.

  “You are here at the discretion of a top-secret agency.” He kneaded each of her fingers as if trying to decide which one to break first. “I do hope you'll cooperate.”

  “You're asking me to be his whore.”

  Denman's face was void of expression. “I'm not asking, Dr. Cruz.”

  The man left no room for negotiation.

  Denman got up and retrieved the dress and shoes, dumping them on her lap. “Get dressed, or I'll have someone do it for you.”

  Rachel looked down at the bundle on her lap, fingering the hem of the coarse pallid dress, her eyes half-closed. She wanted to tell him who she was, what she was, hoping it would make a difference to him. But it was irrelevant. A mule wouldn't understand the birthright he inherited. He was more likely to kill her now if he knew the truth. She had to get out of here, and right now the only way to do that was through that horrid little dress.

  “How long do I have to stay with him?”

  The palm of his hand slid up her cheek, making her feel unclean. “As long as he wants you, my dear. As long as you please him.”

  Denman left. She had a few scant hours of relative freedom before they delivered her to a shuttle where someone on Jessit's team would escort her the rest of the way. Rachel considered escape. But what would happen to Paul if they found him before she did?

  Damn Taelen Jessit. Why would he do this to her? When he promised to take her away from here, he said nothing about becoming his concubine.

  She thought she meant something to him. She thought…

  Oh, what difference did it make what she thought? She was wrong. He was using her. Maybe it was even payback for all the hell he went through in the desert.

  And now she needed him. Needed him to save Paul, and save herself from these madmen. If Gilgamesh was right, she'd need Jessit's help to destroy the com-web too.

  Rachel groaned. How did she ever become so dependent on one mortal? And did it have to be this one? It was humiliating!

  But when she looked around her cage she realized she'd rather be imprisoned by Jessit than Denman. Contemptible as Jessit was, at least he never threatened to kill her. Denman, on the other hand, seemed to be looking forward to the experience.

  Rachel slipped off her oversized smock shirt and the drawstring pants, kicking them out of the way. She picked up the white cotton sundress and pressed the overstarched fabric against her nude body.

  The dress was hideous, with an elasticized top and a skirt that flared out to her ankles. Long, thin spaghetti straps dated the dress as a reject straight out of the nineteen-eighties. And it was huge. The owner must have been a giant—a giant with no fashion sense.

  Rachel unzipped it, the long crooked zipper going all the way down to her butt. She put it on, swallowed by all that fabric. It was like wearing a tent.

  Her naked feet slapped on the hard tile floor and stopped before a full-length mirror. The view was worse than she expected. The dress
nearly reached her feet and had it not been for the stretchy top, it would have slipped off her body without any help at all. How was she expected to impress a man with this?

  Rachel straightened the seams on the dress, the limp straps falling helplessly. She brushed her hair back, staring at a woman she no longer recognized. The man had gills, and webbing, and eyes that shimmered like iridescent emeralds. Was sex between them even possible?

  Denman said it was, describing in all too vivid detail, complete with pictures of a naked Alturian. He went so far as coaching her on how to respond to Jessit's advances. She didn't want to ask where he got his information. It seemed Jessit had been offered others, lots of others. And now it was her turn in his bed.

  Part of her was hurt that she had meant nothing to him all along, but another part of her was angry. Both emotions were tempered with the sobering reality of her predicament. She had to please Jessit. It was the only way to keep this body alive until Gilgamesh arrived.

  Chapter 14

  Jessit repeated every detail of his vision to the high priest Kalya before he sent his report to the Emperor. He knew the royals couldn't care less about a menze-induced vision, but they couldn't disregard it without more scrutiny. Visions were rare, and lying about one carried severe punishment. If he had been anyone else, Jessit might have been suspect, but he had led a long and distinguished career. And Kalya himself corroborated the vision with one of his own. Anu's firstborn, Gilgamesh, had come to him, as well. The Imperial house had to respond this time.

  So they waited, with Kalya asking the same questions over and over again. Jessit suspected the old priest seethed with jealousy. It seemed inconceivable that a Son of Anu would show himself to anyone in the military. Jessit was known for his piety but not when it interfered with the business of war. It smacked against Kalya's delicate sensitivities.