Time’s Eye

Casey closed his eyes and drank more wine. “Christ, Bis. I knew you’d bring the mood down.”

“And maybe that’s why the sampling happened in the first place,” Abdikadir said.

She hadn’t thought it through that far. “What do you mean?”

“The library is about to burn down. What do you do about it? You run through the galleries, grabbing what you can. Maybe the construction of Mir is an exercise in salvage.”

Casey said, eyes still closed, “Or looting.”

“What?”

“Maybe these Firstborn aren’t just here to record the end. Maybe they caused it. I bet you hadn’t thought of that either, Bis.”

Abdikadir said, “Why couldn’t you tell Josh this?”

“Because he’s full of hope. I couldn’t crush that.”

They sat in tense, brooding silence for a while. Then they started to talk about their future plans.

Abdikadir said, “I think Eumenes sees me as a useful tool in his endless quest to distract the King. I’ve proposed an expedition to the source of the Nile. The Firstborn seem to have preserved fragments of humanity perhaps from the first divergence from the chimps—but what were the very first? What quality about those deepest, hairiest ancestors did the Firstborn recognise as human? That’s the prize I want to dangle before Alexander …”

“It’s a fine ambition,” Bisesa said. Privately, though, she doubted if Alexander would be sold on it. It was Alexander’s worldview that was going to shape the near future—and that was a dream of heroes, gods and myths, not a quest for resolving scientific questions. “I have a feeling you will find a place wherever you go, Abdi.”

He smiled. “I have always inclined to the Sufi tradition, I think. The inner exploration of faith: where I am doesn’t matter.”

“I wish I felt the same,” she said earnestly.

Casey said, “As for me I don’t want to live out my life in a James Watt theme park. I’m trying to kick-start other industries—electricity, even electronics maybe …”

“What he means,” Abdikadir said dryly, “is that he’s becoming a schoolteacher.”

Casey squirmed a little, but he tapped his broad cranium. “Just want to make sure that what’s up here doesn’t die when I do, so generations of poor saps have to rediscover it all.”

Bisesa squeezed his arm. “It’s okay, Case. I think you’ll be a good teacher. I always did think of you as a surrogate father.”

Casey’s swearing, in English, Greek and even Mongolian, was impressive.

Bisesa stood. “Guys—I hate to say it, but I think I should get some sleep.”

With one instinct, they pulled together, and wrapped their arms around each other, heads together, huddling like players in a football game.

Casey said, “You need a Blue Bomber?”

“I have one … One more thing,” Bisesa whispered. “Let the man-apes go. If I can break out of the cage, so should they.”

Casey said, “I promise … No good-byes, Bis.”

“No. No good-byes.”

Abdikadir said, “Why is life given / To be thus wrested from us? …”

Casey grunted. “Milton. Paradise Lost, right? Satan’s challenge to God.”

Bisesa said, “You never cease to amaze me, Case. The Firstborn are no gods.” She grinned coldly. “But I always admired Satan.”

“Fuck that,” said Casey. “The Firstborn have to be stopped.”

After a final, long moment, she pulled away, and left them with their wine.

***

Bisesa sought out Eumenes, and asked permission to leave the banquet.

Eumenes was upright, contained and apparently sober. He said in his stilted, heavily accented English, “Very well. But, madam, only on condition I am allowed to accompany you for a while.”

With a few guards, they walked up Babylon’s ceremonial way. They called at the town house commandeered by Captain Grove. Grove embraced her and wished her luck, in his clipped Noel Coward accent. Bisesa and Eumenes walked on, out of the city walls through the Ishtar Gate, and into the tent city of the army beyond.

The night was clear and cold, with the unfamiliar stars and a bony crescent Moon showing through high, yellowish clouds. When Bisesa was recognized she was greeted with cries and waves. The troops and their followers had been given gifts of wine and meat by the King in Bisesa’s honor. The whole camp seemed to be awake: the tents glowed from lamps lit inside, and music and laughter rose up like smoke.

“They are all sorry to see you go,” Eumenes murmured.

“I just gave them an excuse for a party.”

“You should not—um, underestimate your contribution. We were all pitched together into this fractured new world. There was great suspicion, even incomprehension, between our various parties—and the three of you from the twenty-first century were the fewest and most isolated of all. But without you to help us, even Alexander’s wiles might not have prevailed against the Mongols. We have become an unlikely family.”

“Yes, we have, haven’t we? I suppose that says something about enduring qualities of the human spirit.”