Relics

by K. T. Tomb

  Dammit! The woman was maddening.

  “Are you okay, Alexey?” she asked. “You seem agitated.” There was amusement in her voice.

  “Do I? Perhaps I am merely eager for some answers.”

  “Patience achieves more than force and rage,” she said simply.

  “Not in my experience,” he said, turning back to her. He reached out and grabbed her forearm tightly, then noticeably loosened his grip. “Some of us don’t have the benefit of being immortal. For most of us, our time actually runs out here on Earth. I’m hoping to change that, at least for me.”

  She didn’t move her hand. He could feel the muscle just beneath her skin, skin which seemed paper-thin. She was looking at him with those dead eyes. “May I ask how you’ve arrived at your conclusions?”

  So, Alexey told her everything, from the moment that Rama was discovered, to their tests in his lab, to Rama babbling incoherently in twenty different languages. Everything.

  When he was finished, she said simply, “Walk with me, Alexey.”

  Chapter Two

  They walked together along the streets of Azri, passing shops that were already closed for the night. Broken concrete sidewalks were mixed with pebble-stoned walkways and dirt paths.

  Most streets had some form of lighting, but mostly, they were guided by a nearly full moon. Alexey had settled on some hummus, fuul, and some not-so-freshly baked bread that he had purchased from a local street merchant just before he closed for the evening. It was edible and it had taken the crankiness off his nerves, which had earlier been humming like a live wire. Now that Alexey had been with the woman for most of the evening, he was adapting to the rhythms of her personality and her slow-paced tempo. He likened it to a tennis match, his favorite sport. Sometimes, an opponent picked up the pace and wasted little time between serves and at other times, an opponent would take quite a long time to adjust for wind, sun, and glare.

  Go with the flow, Alexey. You need her. Badly. She is the key.

  They walked for perhaps a half mile. His hummus and bread were gone. He needed something to drink and he suggested a bar that was still open. She shook her head and waited outside. He shrugged and purchased a bottled beer and met her back outside. He opened the beer and kept pace with her.

  Still, she said nothing.

  She was tall. Perhaps even an inch or so taller than Alexey, which irked him to no end since he stood six foot two. She was dressed in tight slacks and a thick red sweater that covered most of her body, which was respectable for the Islamic region. The sweater was almost big enough to be a robe, but still allowed her some individuality.

  And when she finally spoke, Alexey almost choked on his beer.

  “There is much to tell, but I do not know how much of it you need to know. Do you understand?”

  “I do.”

  “I have put much thought into what you need to know and I shall not discuss anything other than that. Again, do you understand?”

  “I understand that you will tell me all I need to know to conquer Eden.”

  She turned to him and smiled. “We are going to get along brilliantly.”

  Alexey finished the beer and tossed the bottle into a plastic garbage bag that was sitting outside what appeared to be a cigarette shop. The bag moved and a fat rat scurried out, its long claws clicking along the cobblestone walkway as it ran parallel to the shop and then disappeared in a fissure between the two buildings. Sulna watched the rat with interest until it was gone. Her eyes had brightened considerably.

  To Alexey, it was an unusual look. She appeared more than fascinated by the rat. It was a look of hunger. From living in impoverished St. Petersburg, Alexey knew the look well.

  Soon, they were standing over an old, arched bridge made with a patchwork of stone and mortar that probably dated back to the days of the Babylonians, as far as Alexey knew. Below them, a black stream chugged along over rocks, a stream that sometimes turned into a river during the rainy months. It was this river that the entire city was built around. Many a garment had been washed along its banks. There had also been many baths taken there.

  There are also many mosquitoes.

  Alexey extensively slapped the back of his hands and neck as they stood on the bridge, looking down at the flowing water that gurgled over submerged stones. Alexey glanced over at Sulna. She was standing motionless, with her hair blowing gently back. Her hands laid flat on the stone railing, while staring down into the black depths of the water. He could still smell her perfume, which was heavy in the air. The nauseous feeling had mostly gone away. She looked beautiful and ancient in a way he could not fathom or quite comprehend. Perhaps it was in her stillness.

  “It appears the mosquitoes have a taste only for my blood,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said. “I don’t suppose they would like mine very much.”

  “Why is that?”

  She didn’t answer, of course. She stood there as silent and as still as a statue. Maddening, truly maddening. Alexey clenched the stone rail with his knuckles turning white and clearly visible in the moonlight. Deep breaths.

  Finally, she spoke. She was a woman who certainly marched to the beat of her own drum, and normal social conventions be damned. “I suppose it’s a good lead-in to what I need to tell you.”

  He said nothing, silently urging her to continue. He could not possibly endure another one of her pregnant pauses and he did not dare say anything, lest she lose her train of thought.

  “My blood is tainted, which is why the mosquitoes do not find me appetizing. The blood that flows in my veins is very nearly putrid, barely able to sustain my life force. I exist as an anomaly in nature, a true example of a miracle... or a curse. After all, only the Fallen have the tainted blood. So, yes, surely a curse.” She turned to him and gazed into his eyes. The wind shifted. He could smell her perfume. Strong, too strong. “Some humans can smell my blood, which is why I wear the perfume, but the stench is never truly masked. Alexey, you are staring into the eyes of something that should not exist, but does. Something that should have been dead eons ago, but still lives.”

  He risked asking questions, even though his curiosity was getting the better of him and taking possession of his tongue. “How old are you?”

  There was a long silence. Something splashed in the water below. In spite of the perfume, he could smell the wet moss that hung above the river. He could also smell death, as if something had died nearby. Was that her? He silently chastised himself for speaking. Lord only knew when she would open that beautiful mouth again.

  “That is not relevant for our purposes, Alexey,” she said after another minute or two. “You know better than to ask.”

  “Forgive me, madam,” he said.

  “You are forgiven. Just know that ‘I am old, much older than you.’ That is a line from a children’s poem. I have always liked it and found it particularly fitting.”

  Alexey had never heard of the poem, nor did he care. He kept silent.

  “Yes, you were partially correct. I used to be one of them, but no more. I was exiled and yes, I seek to return.”

  “And you need my help.”

  She was silent.

  He grabbed her shoulder and turned her toward him. He suddenly felt that he had the upper hand. She needed him and that was a great feeling of leverage. “Answer me! No more delays, woman! You need my help to go back there!”

  She smiled at him, but it was a cold smile. Her colorless eyes showed no expression. “Yes, I need you. And you need me to show you the way.”

  “I know the way.” Alexey liked this game. He liked to assert himself, especially to someone who had so recently had their way with him. “The Mountain of God in the northern foothills.”

  “Arrogance does not become you, Alexey Konstantin.”

  “Then you do not know me very well.”

  She looked forward. Her profile was strangely beautiful. Nose slightly flat, chin rounded. She had the most defined features he had ever seen. “I have all
the time in the world to wait for this moment. I have all of time itself to wait for the fall of Eden. Do you?”

  He chewed on his lip. He wanted this badly. He played it cool, mustering all his negotiating skills. “What can you offer me now?”

  She turned away from him and began walking back down over the bridge, heading back into town. He followed her.

  Like a damn puppy.

  “There are defenses around Eden that I can get you and your men through. Eden is protected by an ancient sisterhood of women.”

  He snorted. “Women?”

  She turned to him. Her hand snaked out and grabbed him by the throat and lifted him. He choked, unable to breathe. His legs kicked in midair. He looked down at her face. Now, those dead eyes were smiling. She was taking great pleasure in choking the life out of him.

  “Yes, women. Do not underestimate the enemy. Do you understand?”

  He was blacking out. His flailing hand fumbled for his pants pocket and he removed a switchblade, depressed its release and the blade hissed to life. He pressed it against her throat.

  “Put... me... down,” he said, or tried to say.

  The knife had her attention, but she grinned easily and lowered him down to the ground and released her hold on him. He sucked in air, fighting to retain consciousness. He didn’t want to pass out now. Splotches of blackness appeared and disappeared in his vision, interspersed with flashes of light. He held the knife before him still, keeping it between himself and Sulna.

  “Don’t ever touch me again!” he commanded. Being that close to her, he had been uncomfortably aware of a particularly rancid or sour tinge to her perfume. It had been almost revolting. “And do not ever underestimate me!”

  “You can put that silly thing away now, Alexey. It’s not going to be necessary, although I do have a new respect for you,” she said as she turned away. She continued walking down the darkened path that led into town. They were in a park of sorts. At least, this was where Alexey had seen kids playing soccer. There were one or two crooked cypress trees growing along the stream’s banks.

  Despite what the woman had said, he did not put the knife away. He carried it at his side as he stumbled forward, willing his feet to cooperate. Eventually, he caught up to her. The woman had extraordinarily long strides. Although she did not appear to ever seem in a hurry, she covered ground quickly.

  “What the hell was that all about?” he demanded.

  “You saw my strength, Alexey. You saw the speed with which I seized you. I had you in my grasp and lifted you in the air before you could react. The women who guard Eden are even quicker and stronger. They practice, they work out, and they hone their considerable skills. Not to mention that over the millennia, they have built defenses around the mountain. They have money as well and a large supply of gold. They have outfitted their defenses with the best systems that money can buy, upgrading constantly. It will take a considerable force to conquer them.”

  “I have a considerable force.”

  “So I’ve heard,” she said. “And the Daughters are few in number. At last count, my spies tell me they were at eighteen. The one from whom you procured your vial of healing oil was one of them. Now, they are down to seventeen. Recently, one of them departed for the United States, leaving the Sisterhood even further short-handed. My best people are tracking her now. With any luck, she should be dead. Now is the time to penetrate their lair.”

  “Lair?” he asked.

  “It is precisely a lair: a complex network of hollowed-out tunnels, complete with living quarters, surveillance rooms, combat rooms, armories, and a control room that could be a clone to Houston’s mission control. From that room, they can initiate a full-scale attack in defense of their mountain.”

  “But how could they modernize everything?”

  “The Daughters of Eve, as they call themselves, have spent an eternity learning their craft. There are those among them who are specialists in what they do and they have been doing it for centuries. This computer age is no different; what is six or eight years invested in a degree at MIT when you have lived already for centuries and plan to live for centuries more? Many of them are highly accomplished computer engineers. As far as developing and building such a secret network of weapons and computers and such, they simply do what the Arabs did when they hired American contractors to build them military bases.”

  Alexey knew something about that. “They were blindfolded and led to secret military bases, sequestered for many months, but treated and paid quite well.”

  “Yes,” said Sulna. “It’s amazing what one would put up with for bags of gold. And the base is constantly being upgraded. By now, I imagine, it’s a modern-day marvel.”

  “My men and I are supposed to take down this... this fortress?”

  “With my help,” she said, “all things are possible.”

  Alexey thought he’d heard that somewhere. Perhaps in the Bible. She smiled at him and turned down a side street that would lead to their hotel. He followed. He hated to follow. Using long strides, he caught up to her, and was slightly out of breath. The woman sounded like she had a God complex. He knew the feeling well.

  He reached out and touched her shoulder, pulling her to a stop. He felt the muscle beneath her sweater flex. “And what’s in it for you?” he asked.

  “We want the same thing.”

  “The Tree of Life?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you want with it?” he asked, suddenly very suspicious.

  She shook her head slowly. In the moonlight, her features were beautiful. Her scent was nauseating, but it was amazing what one could get used to.

  “Fine,” he said. “Would you care to come up to my room?”

  She reached out and pulled his head toward her and kissed him deeply. A wave of revulsion and pleasure swept through him. He fought the bile that threatened to come up in his throat, even while the kiss excited him.

  How did one kiss an immortal?

  She pulled away from him and he was relieved and dismayed at the same time. “Are you still interested in having me come up?” she asked.

  She had left a taste in his mouth. A bad taste. Literally, but he didn’t care. “Oh, yes. I’m very interested.”

  She put her arm through his and began walking. “Like I said before, I think we’re going to get along brilliantly.”

  Chapter Three

  Alexey awoke alone the next morning in his four-poster bed to an upset stomach. He launched himself out of bed and into the massive bathroom adorned in brass fixtures. Leaning over the toilet, he vomited. He did so over and over, until nothing more remained in his stomach. He dry-heaved, staggering, holding onto the towel rack until it ripped from the wall. He braced himself against the wall, gasping and wiping the vomit from his lips.

  Then he showered, as long and as hot as he could stand. He used a washcloth and half a bar of soap to rub his skin clean, until his skin glowed red from irritation. Then he just stood under the hot water and thought about the previous night.

  What a woman.

  Her nude body had been unbelievable and was perhaps the most exciting thing he had ever seen. She had kept herself toned. She had curves that men dreamed about and women, no doubt, envied. But the stench coming from her nude body was unbearable. It smelled like a mix of decay and sour milk. And when she had become sweaty, he fought the rising bile with all of his will.

  When he finally rolled off her, panting and disgusted, she had seemed disappointed in him. As she dressed, she looked down at him without expression. She asked when the restaurant closed. He had checked the time and said they were just closing. She had smiled, stood and said that maybe she would get a bite to eat.

  When she left his room for her own, taking her disgusting stench with her, he could not have been more relieved. Before he collapsed into an exhausted sleep, he removed the bed sheets and slept directly on the mattress.

  She had been ravenous. Her lust had not been satiated, even after hours of lovema
king. She displayed none of her calm reserve in the bedroom. Alexey looked at his forearms, now rubbed raw from the washcloth.

  Nail marks and fresh open wounds.

  They were on his back, his shoulders, chest and legs. All had stung from the soap, but he had been too driven to purge himself of her scent to really notice the pain. Now each wound throbbed as he grabbed hold of the nozzle and shook his head in amazement.

  Never had a woman ravaged him so.

  But I love it.

  ***

  He threw open the French windows to his suite to air out the room, and stepped out onto the balcony. He inhaled the fresh air and let his head clear as he wondered what the hell was going on. On the street below a crowd of people gathered in a nearby alleyway, along with several police officers and what passed as a medical examiner’s truck in these parts.

  There was a knock on his door.

  The thought that it could be Sulna filled him with both dread and excitement at the same time.

  There were only a few who had access to his suite. It was more than likely that security would not have allowed Sulna up the private elevator that led to his room. He had not given prior permission, although the security last night would have known of her.

  Either way, more than likely—

  “Come in,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  The hotel was nice enough, but the walls were notoriously thin. His voice traveled through the length of the suite and immediately, the door opened. His assistant Alexis Milek was soon by his side on the balcony. The little man was sweating and nervously looking around the room.

  “Sir, have you been sick?” he asked.

  “Yes, Milek. I have been very sick.”

  The little man pushed up his glasses and sniffed the air. “I’ll call the hotel service and have them clean the room for you.”

  “A good idea,” said Alexey. “Milek, what’s going on down there in the street?”