“I’d say you fell down on the job. Those pirates had help from someone on the inside. Come to think of it, Elisabeth looked pretty cozy with their leader.”
“It is true that maybe she wasn’t a hostage in the literal sense of the word, but there’s a lot more to it than that. The Sultan is a cruel bastard. Their marriage hasn’t exactly been ‘happily ever after.’ She wanted out; wanted to leave this whole bloody place behind. When Jin took her captive, she thought she’d fallen into some kind of damned romance novel. And then you showed up.
“She hoped to convince you to rescue her from both Jin and the Sultan, and thought that sapphire might help her start over. But after she left you, Jin's guards caught her, and she had no choice but to give the appearance of helping him.”
“You actually believe all this?” Kismet could not control his ire. “You weren't there.”
“No I wasn't. But ask yourself this; what does she have to gain by trying to earn your trust?”
“I don't know, but I'm sure I'll find out.” Kismet ran a hand through his hair. “So what is she doing here? The Sultan came to his senses and threw her out. Why are you with her? What’s your stake in this?”
A guilty flush darkened Higgins’ already ruddy features. “He wants her dead. God help me, but I’ve been protecting her so long, I just can’t stand the thought of her getting hurt. But I can’t do it; I’d attract too much attention. That’s why I thought of you.”
“You knew I’d come here?”
Higgins grinned ruefully. “I figured you’d reckon this was the safest place to be. But to tell the truth, I had my…I’ve had one of my people following you from the moment you escaped.”
Kismet shook his head in weary disbelief. “Listen, Al. I'm sorry this has got me so upset. I’m hungry. I’m tired. I haven't slept in a bed in God only knows how long. This is just a bit much right now.”
“So you won’t help?” The Kiwi made no effort to hide his disappointment.
“Just leave me alone for now.” He tried to punctuate his request with an emphatic gesture, and only then realized that he was still holding the covered plate with his dinner. “Look, she’s welcome to use my stateroom. I’ll sleep in a deckchair or something. We can sort this out tomorrow.”
Higgins nodded slowly, the defeated expression still in evidence. “Right, then. I’ll let her know what you’ve decided.”
“Damn it,” Kismet muttered as he watched the big Kiwi disappear back down the companionway. “I was really looking forward to that bed.”
Dr. Leeds was gone, as was the steward in charge of the bar, but the contingent of security guards seemed to be a permanent fixture in the adjoining gallery. Kismet did not venture beyond the salon, but instead settled at a table near the exit and commenced his long overdue repast. The food was lukewarm and flavorless, but he barely noticed.
He struggled to get Elisabeth out of his thoughts. His anger was already yielding to the arguments Higgins had presented in her defense. He knew better, of course. Higgins had not been there in the tiger pit; had not heard her mocking laughter…
He shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth, chewing vigorously as if to shake the memory loose. “So Dr. Leeds thinks he can find the secret of immortality,” he wondered aloud, hoping that by articulating the thought, he might force his mind to switch tracks.
To some extent, it worked.
What intrigued him was the scope of Leeds’ search. In one short conversation, the man had incorporated a mosaic of Judaism, Christianity, Gnosticism, and an obscure Mesopotamian myth, into a seemingly coherent philosophy. Despite his superior manner, Leeds expressed himself with a certainty that made a person feel foolish for doubting.
Kismet searched his memory for details of the Epic of Gilgamesh. Elisabeth’s untimely intrusion had side-tracked him from his original plan to research the legend, but he still remembered his college course on mythology, where he had read translations of the tablets of Shin-eqi-unninni, largely considered to be the most complete account of the Epic. The tablets, recovered from the same library in the ruins of Nineveh as the prism Leeds was studying, had been tentatively dated to 2000 BCE, making them the closest thing to a contemporary account. Gilgamesh was generally accepted as an actual historic figure, king of Uruk, a city in Babylonia, though Kismet could not recall if he had ever been linked to the Nimrod of the Genesis account.
Leeds had focused on the latter third of the Epic, the final three tablets describing Gilgamesh's search for the secret of immortality. The character of Uta-Napishtim indeed bore a close resemblance to the biblical Noah; survivor of a global flood, preserving alive all species of animal life in a great boat, even right down to the detail of his sending forth birds to see if the waters had receded.
Gilgamesh himself was anything but heroic. He began the story as an oppressive king and demi-god, demanding, among other things, the right to share the bed of every virgin bride before her husband. The people of his kingdom called out to the gods for someone to deliver them from the oppressor, and their prayer was answered in the form of Enkidu, a shaggy wild man who lived in the forest and could talk to animals. At first, Enkidu and Gilgamesh fought, but soon they became fast friends. Together, they challenged and slew Humbaba, demon of the cedar forest, and in the process offended the goddess Ishtar. Humbaba's dying curse was fulfilled when Ishtar smote Enkidu with a fatal illness.
Following the death of his friend, Gilgamesh troubled by his own mortality, began the search for the immortal Uta-Napishtim and the secret of eternal life. Along the way, he was repeatedly advised to abandon his quest; even Uta-Napishtim tried to reason with Gilgamesh that human death was the will of the gods and the search for eternal life could only end in futility. The outcome of the tale, with Gilgamesh losing the plant that possessed the secret of immortality, seemed underscore this eventuality.
The story was told from Gilgamesh's point of view, a retrospect on his life, inscribed on the lapis lazuli stone foundations of his city. Gilgamesh's transformation from an oppressive jerk into Enkidu's fast friend and mourner seemed like the stuff of heroic fiction, not history. The kings of ancient times never recorded their own failings, or allowed their scribes to show them in less than favorable light.
Leeds’ premise seemed to turn on the connection between Gilgamesh and Nimrod. If the two men were one and the same, it would seem to indicate that an epic quest for a life giving plant, what Leeds thought was a Seed of the Tree of Life, really did occur. Of course, that assumed the Bible account about Nimrod — and for that matter Noah, and the Great Flood — was historically accurate, despite very little supportive evidence.
Kismet pushed his plate away and asked the bartender if there was a place where he could get computer access. A few minutes later in the ships cybercafé, he accessed an online edition of the Authorized Version of 1611, better known as the King James Version of the Holy Bible. He clicked on ‘Genesis’ and began skimming through the lines of text until he reached the first mention of Nimrod. There were only three short verses:
“And Cush begat Nimrod: he began to be a mighty one in the earth. He was a mighty hunter before the LORD: wherefore it is said, Even as Nimrod the mighty hunter before the LORD. And the beginning of his kingdom was Babel, and Erech, and Accad, and Calneh, in the land of Shinar.”
He set the book down thoughtfully. Erech was easily Uruk — the ancient name for Iraq — the city-state built and ruled by Gilgamesh in the parallel legend. In fact, both men were described as city builders and kings. It was a tenuous link, but a link nevertheless.