A Collision In Time

When one with honeyed words but evil mind persuades the mob, great woes befall the state.

– Euripides, Orestes

Winter, 3203 BC (November 7th, Gregorian), Uruk, Sumeria

The ziggurat glowed brilliant red in the rising sun as Kushim and Dov walked toward the imposing structure.

“Are you sure I will be welcome?” asked Dov.

“Yes, I am sure. Uruk seeks prosperous trade relations and to expand its influence. You will explain that your imprisoned friend journeyed from beyond the mountains and is an important trading partner. There are rumors of great cities there, so it is a believable story and may open up discussion for new business opportunities. Further, they will be impressed with your Sumerian vocabulary, unique amongst the people of the mountains. This fascination will free Cara.”

Dov grimaced. “I’m really nervous, but I suppose the plan makes sense.”

They began the long ascent to the stone temple at the top of the ziggurat, now shimmering orange in the rising sun.

“You are supposed to be. It’s how power and control are maintained. I will name you Devorah for our conference.”

Dov raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

Kushim did not reply. They walked up the stairs, turned toward the back of the stone temple, and stepped onto the terrace that offered a sweeping panorama of the river and hundreds of small farms along its banks. A crude sailboat maneuvered downstream with a cargo of adobe bricks and pottery. The city had begun to wake up.

“Uruk is a beautiful city, Kushim,” said Dov, “as Cara has said many times, like a —”

“It is beautiful,” a deep, confident voice behind them interrupted. “Behold a morning ordained by Anu and Inanna. The warm air brings joy upon us, and we reflect. Welcome, Kushim, and friend of Kushim.”

Startled by the unexpected voice, Kushim and Dov turned around. Kushim immediately bowed, his head almost touching his knees. He straightened. “Thank you, High Priest Ubara Tutu. Let me name my friend. She is Devorah, and comes from the mountains.”

Dov bowed, mimicking Kushim. “I am honored to be in your presence High Priest Urara Tutu.”

“And yet she speaks our tongue?” the high priest queried.

“I have traveled in your lands,” replied Dov, “and learned your tongue.”

The high priest approached Dov and Kushim. He stopped in front of Dov and leaned forward until his nose almost touched hers. “Now I understand you wish to discuss the matter of the inconsiderate woman whom we rescued at the market. She spoke in unhuman colors. Come, join me inside.”

Dov glanced at Kushim, who remained impassive. He nodded ever so subtly to avoid being obvious. “Yes, this is a matter of some importance for Devorah. She was on a trade expedition.”

“Then come, let’s discuss.” The high priest waved them forward.

They entered the stone temple and a small flying insect followed them in, dodging an irritated swat by a sentry. The dark room contrasted against the brilliance of the sunshine they had left. Narrow beams of light filtered through carved round trellis windows, but the gloomy hall swallowed the shafts of sunshine. As they entered a priest bowed and poured dark red liquid from a pitcher into a shallow conduit carved into the floor. The liquid oozed from one end of the room to the other. They followed the high priest to a large stone table in the center of the temple. He positioned himself on an ornate cedar and bronze chair at its head and gestured for Dov and Kushim to join him.

A man stood in the shadows near Ubara Tutu’s shoulder. It was obvious to Dov who lurked there and as her eyes adjusted, she her fears were confirmed. She avoided his gaze and acted as confident on the outside as she was afraid on the inside. She was not sure if she should look at the high priest, so instead focused on Kushim for cues. She was relieved that Uriel buzzed around nearby, capturing the moments for Ariel and Emerson to evaluate.

The high priest cleared his throat and started to sing, soon accompanied by Kushim and the man in the shadows. He stopped the song and raised his head slowly, perhaps part of the ceremony. He stood and walked to a window and stretched his arms upward.

High Priest Ubara Tutu was a small, thin man, bordering on emaciated, and fully shaved. He turned to face the assembled group, caught Dov’s eye, and frowned. His eyes moved slowly toward the man in the shadows who, on cue, stepped forward and revealed himself. “Devorah, please meet Noha. He will listen and provide counsel.”

There was no mistaking Modi’s eyes, cruel and calculating.

Dov waited, unsure if she had been asked to speak. Awkward silence filled the room.

“Now, Kushim,” the high priest said, “what do you say, since Devorah is cautious and silent.”

“My king,” began Kushim, “the woman you arrested at the market is a guest of Uruk. She has traveled with Devorah a long way but has not yet learned the Sumerian tongue. She wishes to trade in precious gems and food native to her lands. We are confident that her anger was due to a misunderstanding. She is important, and I fear that we may cause harm and lose a trade opportunity, should we leave her imprisoned.”

There was silence. The king considered his response. “Devorah, I want to thank you again for your visit. Have you brought any gifts for the gods?”

“May I speak?” Dov asked. She struggled to understand the rhythm of the meeting.

“Not yet. If I may intrude, High Priest,” said Modi, “be wary of her lies.”

Kushim jumped in. “She is a woman of honor. I never bring disrepute to the temple, and I have not today. Anu and Inanna know this to be true.”

Dov remained silent, again waiting for direction.

Ubara Tutu spoke up. “Please continue, Devorah, but do not tell lies, for I shall know, should you do so.”

Dov took a deep breath. “High Priest-King Ubara Tutu, I am humbled in your presence. I wish prosperity for Uruk and the blessing of Anu and Inanna. We have traveled far to arrive here. Along the way, we witnessed the lands you transformed and farmed and the great city you built. We traveled to Uruk because of the legend of your kingdom and because of the wisdom of Kushim—under your leadership, of course. We only seek friendship, so I am sure that my companion meant no harm. She was confused. We ask for your forgiveness from any harm by her actions and petition you to ask that she may rejoin us today.”

“I disagree, High Priest,” said Modi. “Respectfully, of course. I sense that our prisoner fooled both Kushim and her friend who speaks now. She has other plans. I say this based on how she violently attacked the men who came to help her in the market.”

“She didn’t —”

“If I may, Devorah,” Kushim interrupted. “Perhaps we could demonstrate that the prisoner is loyal to Uruk.”

Modi raised his voice. “I believe the prisoner may—

“Enough,” said the high priest-king, interrupting Modi. “Councilor Noha, I have worked alongside Kushim my entire reign, and so I must grant him his demonstration of allegiance.”

“Thank you, my High Priest,” said Kushim. “Permit me to—”

“But allow me to name the terms, Kushim,” the high priest said forcefully, then looked at Modi, who smiled. “You must journey with your companions to Eridu, the home of the god Enki, and offer gifts and sacrifice. If Enki is pleased with the offerings, then request a Tablet of the Gift of Civilization that depicts a pardon. Should you return with this tablet, you must present it to councilor Noha, then Devorah’s friend will be set free.”

Kushim gaped at the high priest in disbelief. “My king…” Kushim’s voice faded. He recognized defeat. “May we leave now, so that we can begin our journey?”

“Yes, and may the sun accompany you.”

Kushim rose and Dov followed. They left together in silence and remained quiet until they had walked midway down the stairs and well out of sight of the Stone Temple.

“That sounds fine to me,” said Dov, breaking the silence. “We can create a simulation of the tablet. How long do you think that will take?”

Kushim remained reserved until he reached the bottom of the stairs and had proceeded a few more paces beyond the ziggurat’s foundation. He sighed. “The high king presented us with an impossible task. Eridu and Uruk are in conflict, and they will not accept me unless I renounce the high priest-king. He is warning me. He is telling me to leave Uruk forever. He is afraid of Noha and discreetly directs me to escape. You as well.”

“How do you know?” Dov pleaded.

“He and I have plotted together as friends for thousands of moons, I assure you. I can read his intent.”

“Then what are we to do?” Dov’s heart raced. “We can’t leave Cara.”

“Indeed, I hope that your magical friends will assist us. We will divide ourselves into two groups. Today my family will leave for Eridu, where we will be welcomed as converts and be provided safety. There we will meet you in a few days. Conceivably, this evening your friends will rescue Cara. We must go and prepare now.”

* * *

The firefly landed on Dov’s hand. “I hope you got it all?” Dov touched its wings. “Now go tell Cara the hopeful news. And please take care of her. We will see her tonight.”

The firefly circled Dov’s head twice and then darted back toward the ziggurat, where within its prison Cara waited for his report.

* * *

“Kushim is a good man,” Modi said to the high priest as the pair left the ziggurat, “but I am afraid he has succumbed to the manipulation of his new companions. I would not underestimate their cunning or wickedness.”

“I will not slay him, Noha,” said the high priest.

“When they don’t return, I assume the prisoner will be sacrificed.” Modi scowled.

“Only then, not a moment before.”

“I will make it so,” said Modi. “May God Anu guide me and provide me wisdom.”

* * *

Later that morning, Kushim led his family, Emerson, and Dov from the rear gate of Uruk and crossed the bridge over the Blue River.

Earlier, Iamma had fought Kushim regarding the wisdom of the retreat. “This is impossible, Kushim. It’s a fool’s journey. We have a home in Uruk we have worked hard for. You worry about our guests, but I worry about our home. You are selfish.”

“The gods’ will is already written,” Kushim replied, “so now we must play our part.”

He spoke little after the argument, other than providing instruction and answering questions from Dov or Emerson. Iamma and her daughters helped as preparations for the trip were finalized.

Dov had a similar disagreement with Ariel. “I can’t leave without Cara. I am the entire reason she is in prison.”

“Uriel and I are more than equipped to overcome Bronze Age technology. We will use our image-masking technology to hide Cara until we are safe. If you joined us, we would need to protect and camouflage you as well. Your presence would diminish our chances of success. You know I am right.”

Dov sighed and nodded. “Okay, but how will you leave when you have Cara?”

“I am considering escaping on a barge or a Sumerian boat and floating downstream to Eridu. It may be more expeditious and easier to hide a single person.”

“Be smart. Okay, Ariel.”

* * *

Hours from Uruk, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, the procession took a break in the shade of some trees, quenching their thirst and eating sparely to ration the water and food. Emerson sat beside Dov, who rested under a palm tree. “This isn’t what I signed up for.” He chuckled. “Y’all didn’t tell me the adventure would involve walking miles, hauling food and drink. And my feet are a damn mess.”

“You volunteered to carry the water, Emerson—you are carrying two or three times the weight of anyone else.”

“Well, I am likely twice as strong as anyone else.”

Dov laughed. “Twice the ego, anyway. Question for you: would you have time-traveled if I had told you what to expect? Not that I would have known.”

“Likely,” he reflected. “Actually, definitely. I needed to escape Sandon. How about you, Dov? Is this what you signed up for?”

Dov studied Emerson and remained silent.

“Hard question?” Emerson asked.

“I didn’t count on Cara.”

“She is something.” Emerson considered Dov’s reaction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it that way.”

“You are too sensitive, Emerson. She is indeed something.” Dov put her arm around Emerson. “I know you like her. I don’t blame you.”

“I find her compelling, but three’s a crowd, ya know.”

Dov laughed. “I like that expression. Might explain Ariel, Uriel, and myself.” They stood and readied to resume the journey. “I like you, Em. You’re good.”

“And Cara will be fine. The Sumerians won’t stand a chance against your robots.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Any risk is too much.”

Emerson leaned over and hugged Dov. “You will see her soon, I promise.”

As evening approached, the group made camp hidden within a grove of trees. They ate a light dinner of flatbread, preserved salt-fish, and a small, rationed taste of beer. Neither Emerson nor Dov enjoyed the bland food, but ate with an appetite to satisfy their hunger after a day of walking. There was little to do in the blackness of the night other than to enjoy the warmth and brightness of the fire and share stories with one another. Sleep came quickly.

The trek began in earnest the next day, with a short hike leading into a series of ridges that marked the halfway point of the journey. The final ridge in the series proved to be the most challenging, particularly for Emerson, whose thighs burned as he hauled multiple baskets of food and water up the slope. Drenched in sweat, he cheered once they reached the top. The peak offered spectacular views of the Euphrates River and the surrounding landscape.

Kushim led the team down the hazardous incline on the other side of the summit. The trail leveled off, then narrowed, squeezed between cliffs on either side. The cramped conditions and loose gravel path made movement difficult and more than once the team cleared debris from the route to accommodate the walk.

Finally Kushim turned a corner, and the trail widened. He halted the team to wait for Emerson to catch up. Emerson quickly appeared around the corner, but Kushim had no sooner called out a cheerful greeting when his youngest son, Umar, yelled and pointed upward.

On the cliffs on both sides, high above their path, dozens of masked warriors had appeared. Dressed in leather armor, holding spears and wooded shields, they stood in two single lines, unmoving.

“Damn, Dov,” Emerson said. He stopped his progress and put down the baskets.

“What do you think, Em?”

“I think I wish I had a gun.”

So far, the warriors had not moved, and their intent remained unknown. “Shall we just keep going?” Dov called softly to Kushim.

“Kushim is doubtful. He seems confused,” Emerson said.

Dov caught Emerson’s eye. “I think we get out of here.” They remained still. “What are we waiting for?” she whispered to Emerson.

There was a commotion behind them. Four soldiers approached, brandishing bronze swords curved like sickles. Three of them stopped and the remaining man approached Dov and Emerson. In unison, the spearmen on the clifftops shifted their posture and held their spears above their heads, pointed downward and ready to unleash.

The recently arrived soldier moved toward Emerson and addressed him.

“Dov, this translator is shit. I don’t know what he said. Some help.”

Dov spoke in Sumerian to the soldier. “My friend and I are accompanying Kushim and his family from Uruk. We are on a mission to deliver goods for Enki of Eridu at the request of our high priest of Uruk. We must proceed.”

Kushim and Alad cautiously joined Emerson and Dov. Kushim whispered to the soldier, who grinned.

“We may be alright, Dov,” Emerson said from the side of his mouth. “I wonder if they are negotiating a bribe.”

“As long as he doesn’t give up our food, then fine. Something is wrong, though—”

Alad pulled on Dov’s arm and nodded upward with his chin. Dov peered toward the spearmen on the right cliff as they parted to allow a man mounted on a horse to pass. Outfitted in gold armor, with a matching spear and helmet, the mounted man yelled, directing his anger at the four soldiers below him. The soldiers responded rapidly and advanced toward Dov and Emerson.

As two of the soldiers moved aggressively toward him, Emerson backed up and raised his hands. “Dov, tell them I mean them no harm.”

Dov started to speak, but one of the soldiers raised his sword. Emerson turned around, looking for anything that could protect him. He grabbed one of the large canisters of water and held it in front of his body, threatening to throw it at the soldier. Kushim leaped in front, between the two.

Dov saw the soldier swing his sword up. She yelled, forgetting her translation, “Kushim, look behind you.”

The soldier swiped his sword down, piercing Kushim’s arm. He screamed in surprise and leaped backward.

“Damn you,” Emerson shrieked at the soldier and jumped forward, intending to strike him.

A voice from above yelled in Sumerian, which this time the translator interpreted: “Stop!” The man on the horse dismounted. “Please ensure your friend is not harmed.”

The soldiers responded instantly and backed away. Alad and Dov sprinted to examine Kushim. Emerson stood frozen but ready to pounce.

The horseman called in heavily accented Sumerian, “I apologize for the misconduct of my soldiers. They confuse my orders; perhaps it’s my dialect.”

Iamma called to the horseman and waved at him. “I have a gift for you, sir, an offering. Please accept it.” She sounded panicked.

The horseman dismounted, passed his horse to a soldier, and scrambled down the side of the cliff. Iamma waited until he stood in front of her. From around her neck, Iamma lifted and then presented a medallion to the man, who took it and nodded. He laughed. “You are foolish.”

Minutes later, the soldiers had left.

Iamma walked to Dov and Emerson. “We must go now. My husband requires help.”

“What was the necklace?” Emerson asked Dov.

“I have no idea, Em, but it must have had some value.”

That evening they made camp beside a fast-moving creek, off the trail to avoid detection. Kushim’s wound had continued to worsen over the course of the afternoon and he began to fight a mild fever, all of which had slowed their pace.

Dov leaned in to speak to Emerson. “There should not have been a man on a horse. Domesticated horses shouldn’t occur for a long time from now, likely millennia.”

“I wondered about that,” replied Emerson. “There are no horses anywhere in Uruk, let alone mounted soldiers dressed as he was. He looked like a Roman gladiator from the movies I used to watch as a kid.”

“This is an example of time anomaly, Emerson, and who else might have caused this but Asmodi. What’s he up to?”

Dov suddenly yawned. “I think I may need to go to bed now.”

Emerson nodded. “I think I may stay up tonight and keep an eye out for things. You get some sleep, Dov; you could use the rest.” He passed her a blanket. “Try and stay warm.”

Dov hugged herself in the blanket and lay down. “Good night, Em. Thank you.”

The next morning brought clouds and drizzle. Emerson, who had left the camp to wander beside the creek, suddenly stopped filling the waterskins and stood still. He detected faraway motion. A man approached, barely recognizable at this distance.

Emerson hurried toward the camp and awoke Dov with a quick shake of her shoulders. “Dov, wake up. There is a strange man coming.”

She wanted to stay resting. “Any danger?”

“I doubt it,” Emerson said. “He looks harmless and he’s alone.”

Emerson awoke Kushim and his family, who gathered together and watched the man approach.

Dov squinted to get a better image of the outsider and his features became clearer. Her mouth opened in surprise. Dressed plainly, the stranger could have been a farmer, a potter, a fisherman, or a merchant. His skin, hair, and posture, however, didn’t match that of a person that lived off the land. He presented rather as a scholar or priest.

“He looks familiar,” said Emerson.

“A good morning,” the stranger said in Sumerian, still at a distance. “There is nothing to fear. I come as a friend.”

He glanced at Dov and said in English, “Good morning, my old friend.” He slowed down as he neared and held out his hands, palms up. “Peace,” he said in Sumerian. “I am not armed,” he added in English.

Dov beamed and jumped up, clapping. “Elder Brumion, I can’t believe it. I’m so happy.”

“You know him?” Kushim asked Dov. “He is a friend of yours?”

“Yes, yes, he is,” shouted Dov. “An old friend.”

“Arion?” asked Emerson. “How did you get here?”

“That is a story for later,” Arion answered. “I see our friend is injured.” Arion addressed Kushim in Sumerian: “May I see your arm and tend to it?”

Kushim glanced at Iamma, who nodded. He rolled up the sleeve of his tunic and held the wounded arm toward Arion. Arion’s finger brushed over the wound and his expression darkened, concern in his eyes. The wound had deepened and still bled. The skin around it was reddened in a circular pattern. Arion touched Kushim’s forehead. “Your head burns, my friend.”

Arion turned to Emerson. “You see those berries in that tree? Please collect them. Also the bark from that tree there beside the creek. Please collect a handful of both, and some fresh water as well. Please use a rock from the creek and crush the berries, then scrape the underside of the bark into the crushed berries. Then add a handful of water.” Arion repeated the instructions to Kushim’s family in Sumerian, adding, “Please lead Kushim to the creek to wash the wound and have him drink the medicine.”

Arion faced Kushim. “Please wash the wound at the creek, then spread the medicine that Emerson has mixed on the wound and drink the rest. Have your wife help you. Go now.”

Iamma and Emerson rushed toward the creek to pick berries and peel bark. His children grabbed rocks to crush the mixture.

Dov squinted and whispered, “What is this, Elder? This isn’t going to help, is it?”

“Hold my hand, Dov. We are going on a quick journey.”

Dov took Brumion’s hand and immediately felt a wave of electricity flow through her. She fainted.

* * *

Dov opened her eyes. Elder Brumion sat beside her. She was no longer outside. Everything differed—the scents, sounds, and even the gravity had changed. “Where am I? How long have I been out? What happened?”

“A few seconds only. I am sorry, Dov.” Elder Brumion spoke quietly. “Your body reacted to the surge of quantum energy, and you fainted. We jumped through a wormhole. I didn’t warn you because I needed to proceed quickly, and I had already initiated the process when I chose to have you join me. I was rude, not asking you in advance.”

“Okay…” Dov’s tone implied that she hadn’t accepted his reasons. “So, where are we?” Dov sat upright. “I feel okay now; I can sit.”

“I promise that we will return shortly, and nobody will know any differently.” Elder Brumion raised his arms. “Welcome to my home world, Dov. Also, please call me Arion, not Elder Brumion.”

“I remember that from Sandon. Why are we here?”

“Because I traveled without emergency medical provisions, which was foolish. We came home to resupply, otherwise I would not be able to help Kushim.”

“Thoughtful of you. Where is home?”

“Far away in space, but much nearer in time.”

“That didn’t help.” Dov sighed. “You have some explaining to do, Arion. What will Kushim and Emerson do when they don’t see us?”

“They won’t notice we left. We will return to the same exact time and place. Part of the reason I requested they head to the creek is so they don’t notice subtle changes in our position or facial expressions that may have shifted when we arrive back.”

“How exactly did we get here?”

“An expanded dimensional quantum space tunnel. I generated a Higgs field displacement that induced a surge of energy and a phase frequency, entangling two vectors in space-time—a worm hole. We stepped through it and arrived. So here we are.”

“I barely understood that, Arion.”

“There is much to learn about the universe. Even we are still in the early days. Come, Dov, let’s collect some equipment. Take my hand.”

“Can we walk, Arion?”

“I am sorry, Dov; we don’t have time. You won’t notice this journey, it’s only a few kilometers.”

Dov and Arion rested on a rock cliff overlooking a desert valley. Red rock formations punctured a flat, arid landscape as far as she could see. A fiery orange sun hung on the horizon, casting long shadows. A picnic was set between them: a bottle of white wine, assorted cheese, and fruit. At this altitude the wind howled, forcing them to weigh down the blanket with a handful of small rocks.

“Why did you have Emerson collect berries and bark if you never intended to use it?”

“How else would I explain the quick healing? I needed a plausible reason for Kushim and his family to believe. They won’t detect the healing nanobots that I transfer.”

“Yes, of course.” Dov raised her wine glass and admired the view. “Arion, thank you for this treat. I needed a break. Now, tell me your story.”

“Where should I begin?”

“When we first met, when I was a girl. I know that was a long time ago.”

Arion filled his glass and drank deeply. “Not so long ago, Dov. Only months from my perspective.”

Dov lowered her glass. Her expression shifted. “Months?”

“Yes; let me get to that. First some context. My brother is a recurring negative pattern in my life, and this story is no different. My brother is obsessed with time engineering. We—my people—consider time engineering the ability to shift and design a better future for sentient civilizations by weeding and grooming their past. We time-engineer in the past since we no better have a sense of what the future brings than anyone else. As historical events are recorded, we study the time waveform dynamics. We know certain events and people influence the dynamic. Ariel and Uriel begin to see this when they study the anomalies. Finally, some civilizations are easier to engineer than others. Human evolved civilizations are particularly challenging; therefore we have been reluctant to time-engineer humanity. But my brother was fascinated with humans, and he was convinced that by leveraging humans’ brutal impulses he could be successful. I think Pachamama represented a manageable-sized experiment for him to try.”

“Are you not human, Arion?” Dov asked. “You look human.”

“We are a protohuman civilization,” Arion responded. “We share original universal DNA.”

“Wow.” Dov shook her head. “Please continue. Sorry.”

“Months ago I found that my brother had either uncovered or had created a time inflection that involved Pachamama. You were the inflection point, actually. So I journeyed back and forth in time—”

“Did you not say you couldn’t travel forward?” Dov interrupted.

“We cannot travel forward in our time, yes, but we can travel to our present. Where was I?” Arion paused and refilled his glass of wine. He drank deeply.

“I traveled to Pachamama on my mission to protect you. Over your years, I would continually check in, monitor your safety, and look for any signs of intrusion from my brother. He knew I watched you and he remained careful. He did, however, influence the formation of the Heretics faction. As you grew, I jumped to Pachamama each morning and I chose significant times in your life to visit. I watched you grow and prosper.”

Arion finished his wine and refilled his glass. “Finally, Asmodi’s plans came to fruition. He shifted from planning to acting on his idea. That’s when the time-wave disturbances materialized. In my home world we caught up to him just before Sandon, but he escaped. I am now actively watching for and potentially in pursuit of him. Asmodi and I did meet a few days ago, but nothing came of it. So here we are.”

Arion stood. “There is work to do, Dov. A wound to heal, your friend to rescue, and a tyrant to capture. shall we return?”

Dov stood. She walked to the edge of the cliff. “If we jumped, can you send us back to Sumeria before we hit the ground?”

“Of course. Once I initiate, the quantum displacement is instant.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then come here, Arion. As Emerson says…” Dov’s voice faded. They held hands and jumped as Dov screamed. Arion waited for a second extra before he initiated.