The Tower, Landquake

 

“It’s a landquake!” shouted Nazaret. “We have to get into the safebox! It’s a landquake.”

“What?” asked Kaleem. What was a safebox? What was a landquake for that matter?

“This way, quick,” called Nazaret. He was passing a laser key over what Kaleem had never even realised was a door. 

“It’s not working. Come on, come on!” He kept passing the key over the panel. “We’ve only got a few seconds.”

The whole building shook again.

“Stand in the doorway, at least,” called Nazaret. “Quick. The big one will happen in a minute.”

Kaleem did as he was asked.

Nazaret continued to fiddle with the laser key.

The building carried on shaking and rumbling. Kaleem had heard about earthquakes on Terrestra but although they used to do a lot of damage, they wouldn’t do now because the buildings were made so well. And there had not been one for over a thousand years. Since all of that activity in the early twenty-first century it had been relatively quiet. Even then, though, the quakes had only lasted a few seconds.

“Thank goodness,” called Nazaret as a door sprang open. “Come on. Get in. Quick.”   

As soon as they were in the box and Nazaret had sealed the door the shaking and juddering stopped.

“What’s going on?” asked Kaleem.

“It’s a landquake,” said Nazaret. “It hasn’t happened for nearly two thousand years.”

“So, what is a landquake?” asked Kaleem. “Is it like an earthquake on Terrestra?”

“Same effect, different cause,” said Nazaret. “It isn’t something happening underneath the planet’s crust, like on Terrestra. It just happens up on the surface. It’s sort of rippling caused by sudden changes in temperature.”

“What causes that?” asked Kaleem.

“Sun spot activity, massive storms….,” Nazaret went pale. “By Zandra, I hope it’s not all the new plantations that have done it.”

“It wouldn’t be, would it?” said Kaleem.

“Who knows?” said Nazaret with a shrug.

The safebox suddenly started to vibrate.

“What’s happening?” asked Kaleem.

“We’re almost down,” said Nazaret. “The box is preparing to land.”

“How does this work, then?” said Kaleem.

“The box has very strong shields, sensors and stabilisers,” replied Nazaret. “It finds its way through the falling debris and finds a place to land where no building can fall on it.”

“So do all buildings have safe quake boxes?” asked Kaleem.

“Yes, they have to, by law,” said Nazaret.

“Nobody ever told me,” said Kaleem. Huh! Look well if he’d been in the house on his own.

“Well it’s more of a superstition now really,” said Nazaret. “We’d begun to think it was never going to happen again.”

“Box landed,” said an electronic voice. “Doors opening in twenty seconds”

“Oh well, here goes,” said Nazaret. “Let’s hope your mother got out okay.”

Kaleem and Nazaret stepped outside the safebox. Their building looked quite damaged but not destroyed. I suppose they must build everything to resist landquakes, thought Kaleem. There were several other safeboxes on the ground. Already builder droids were clearing the rubble. People were milling around looking dazed but not hurt.

Kaleem suddenly remembered Edmundson’s panic. Had he known about the landquake coming? Was that why he’d told him to get home quickly? What would have happened if it had started on the way home? 

Nazaret’s personal communicator buzzed.

“Darling, thank goodness you’re okay,” Kaleem heard Nazaret say. There was a pause while Marijam said something. “Yes, yes, he’s fine. He was in the apartment and came down in the safebox with me.” Another pause. “Yes, yes, you’re right. And I need to find out how the plantations are.” He turned to Kaleem. “Let’s go and find a public dataserve centre.”

They didn’t have to go far. They found a centre with only a small queue. Kaleem held his breath as his father called up the plantation centre.

Nazaret went pale again. “No!” he gasped. He slumped in his comfisessel. His hands were shaking. Kaleem thought he was going to pass out.

Kaleem looked over his father’s shoulder at the screen. Two thirds of the plantations had been destroyed.        

Find your copy here 

       

The Tower, Contacting Terrestra

 

Kaleem’s journey home was entirely uneventful. He could not understand why Edmundson had got so agitated … unless it was something to do with that strange droid. He dreaded to think what that might be.

Marijam was out when Kaleem got back. Nazaret, however, was not. He could do without this, he really could. Yes, it was totally illogical but it was there: he was uncomfortable around his father, even though he actually liked the man and this was the very same father he wondered about for years before he eventually met him, seventeen years after he’d been born.

Nazaret was working at the communal dataserve in the lounge. Why did he have to be there? Why wasn’t he working in his office downstairs?

“Mum gone out?” asked Kaleem.

“Yes, she had a meet,” replied Nazaret. “We may have something to celebrate later. Looks as if they have the credits for the artificial photosynthesis project. If that goes ahead, we’ll have this planet looking like Terrestra in no time.”

“Oh, good,” mumbled Kaleem.

“Just give me a couple of secs – ah here it is,” Nazaret looked up from the dataserve and grinned at Kaleem. “This is all in Wordtext and I’m so slow at it. I need the expert help of my one and only son.”

Kaleem cringed. He looked at the screen. Oh, it was easy to read, and not all that important. It was just about the expected success rate of farmed acorns’ ability to germinate and produce oak trees. Well, they knew that already and Nazaret had taken it much further.

“Thanks,” said Nazaret, after Kaleem had finished. “And how was your meet?”

Now we’re getting to it, thought Kaleem. You’re just being nosey.

He told Nazaret all that Edmundson had said and all about Emmerline.

“Ah yes,” said Nazaret. “The famous Emmerline. Now I really would like to meet that droid one day.”

No you wouldn’t, thought Kaleem. She’s a tart and you’re a married man. Married to my mum, in fact.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Nazaret continued. “Don’t you think it would be better to get some new people here? That bunch is already committed enough, don’t you think? It’s other Terrestrans who need to be educated.”

“It’s not what Edmundson said,” replied Kaleem. “Look I’d better get on.”

“Don’t work too hard,” Nazaret called as Kaleem made his way to his room.

I wish he wouldn’t interfere, thought Kaleem. Yet he knew Nazaret was right.

As soon as he walked through the doorway into his room the dataserve switched itself on. The machine was loading up before Kaleem could even think what he wanted to do.

“Communicate with Terrestra?” asked his own younger voice. He really must get that voice changed. And he really must find out a bit more about how these machines did it.

“Yes,” replied Kaleem. “Razjosh Elder, please.”

Within seconds Razjosh’s face was filling the screen. Just two years ago that would never have happened. Zandra would not have been able to communicate with Terrestra that easily. We must be doing something right after all, thought Kaleem.

“Ah, Kaleem,” said Razjosh. “Good to hear from you. Can I be of any help?”

Kaleem explained about the meet with Don Edmundson, about Emmerline’s suggestions and about Nazaret’s reaction.

“So, I think he might be right,” said Kaleem. “Shouldn’t it be Terrestrans who’ve never been here before who come here? And ones that need educating. Those friends of mine don’t so much.”

“Or would you consider that it might be too much in one go for most people? It may even be quite a lot for these friends of yours, despite their openness,” said Razjosh. Then he smiled. “Though I expect Mz Sandi Depra will cope admirably. As actually, I suspect, will Saratina.” Razjosh suddenly looked serious. “But Rozia. Rozia Laurence. How will that be for you?” 

Kaleem wished the elder hadn’t mentioned that. He couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. It would be just too painful having her here if they couldn’t be together.

“Is she well enough to travel? How is she? Have you heard from her?” Razjosh continued.

“Yes, yes, she’s fine now,” replied Kaleem. “Fully recovered.”

The elder’s eyes lit up. “You’re in touch?”

If only, thought Kaleem. “Not really,” he mumbled. “I’ve been watching her, though.” That sounded terrible. He felt himself blush. He tried to work out what Razjosh made of that but the elder’s face was like stone. He was completely unreadable.   

“Take care with her,” he said. “And take care of yourself.”

“So you think I should ask that delegation to come then?” asked Kaleem, changing the subject.

“I do. I do indeed,” replied Razjosh. “There is one thing, though.”

“Oh?” said Kaleem.

“You really shouldn’t be relying on me for advice,” said Razjosh. “I shouldn’t be here now and goodness knows what might happen at any time. I can’t imagine I’ve got that much time left.”

Kaleem’s mouth went dry and his heart began to pound. “There’s nothing wrong is there?” he asked.

“No, no, no. Nothing specific.” said Razjosh. “But I am getting on bit.”

That was a relief.

“You do have your father there. You can talk to him. And there is also your grandfather. But,” Razjosh sighed, “a Peace Child really does need to be able to keep his own counsel.”

Kaleem couldn’t think what to say.

“Come,” said Razjosh. “Not so glum. I’ll always be delighted to hear your news. And I won’t be beyond offering a snippet or two of my collected wisdom, now and then, for what it’s worth. But you can do it, you know. On your own. So, take care, Kaleem. Good bye.”

“Good bye,” whispered Kaleem as the screen went blank.      

Well, I’d better get on with it, he thought. The easiest would be Sandi Depra. Definitely. Sandi’s face appeared on the screen within seconds of Kaleem calling her up.

“Hey, Funny Head,” she called. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” said Kaleem. What was she calling him funny head for? Her own today was frizzy and blond with thin pink strips of straight hair that had been wired to stand upright.

“So how may I help?” she asked.  

Kaleem told her about Edmundson’s suggestion.

“You mean I get a second chance to come to Zandra?” she said. “After I missed out the first time. Mind you, the Supercraft trip was good. Even the scary bits.”

“You did get to Zandra eventually,” said Kaleem.

“Yeah, after all the fun was over,” replied Sandi. “You’d done it all by then. And we were only there for such a short time. This time we’d really matter. Count me in!”

 It was good to see Sandi so enthusiastic about the project. Mind you, she always was enthusiastic. About everything. She never seemed all that serious really. It was difficult to work out how she had become head of health.

“Well that’s good,” said Kaleem. “One down, five to go.”

“Yeah, Rozia,” said Sandi. “That’s a tough one. Do you think she’ll come.”

“Oh yes!” said Kaleem. Rozia would always do what was right – no matter how much pain it caused her. He didn’t think he could bear it though, the pain of being so near to her and not being able to be with her, knowing that she now belonged to someone else.

“Hey, come on Funny Head, cheer up,” said Sandi. “You’ll do it. You know you can.”

“If you say so, said Kaleem. He just didn’t know how and he wished somebody could tell him.

“Way to go! We’re off to Zandra!” cried Sandi. “Woo-ooh!” She twirled round on the spot and then turned back to grin at Kaleem. “Keep me informed, Peace Child babe! Tata for now.”

Kaleem wished she had stayed a bit longer. She did always manage to cheer him up. In fact, he was having some difficulty stopping himself from laughing. He would have to calm down before he moved on to the others.   

The others were remarkably easy to talk to as well in the end. None of them hesitated. Saratina was really excited though it was impossible to tell what she was saying.

“Om zanna? Eelee? M iarateena? On oopooraf? Es! Es!”

Kaleem guessed by the way she was clapping her hands and jumping up and down that the answer was yes. The vigorous nodding of the head was a further clue.

“I take it that means “yes”?” he asked

The jumping, clapping and nodding became even more vigorous.

“Ank oo aleey!” she said. Then the screen went blank. Ah! So the Z Zone wasn’t quite up to speed yet.

Pierre LaFontaine was at a meet so his communicator was on standby. Kaleem had to talk to his partner Stuart Davidson instead.

“I’m sure Pierre would love to come to Zandra,” he said. “He often talks about how envious he was of you when he knew you were leaving Terrestra. And of how he envies you being involved in all of this diplomatic work.”

He’s envious? thought Kaleem. I’d swap him any day. Well apart from having Stuart Davidson as a partner.

“Well, what about you?” asked Pierre.  

“Yeah,” replied Stuart. “Yeah, I’d like to come.”

“You have changed!” said Kaleem. A bit different from your dad, he thought.

“Yeah, well, you know, my dad had got it wrong,” said Stuart Davidson. “He really thought it was right and it was better for everybody on Terrestra if we didn’t mix with other people.”

 I guess he did, thought Kaleem.

“Do you know the funny thing is,” Stuart continued, “it was actually reading Wordtext and some of the stuff I then read that made me start thinking a bit differently?”   

Kaleem laughed. “Well I’m glad I thought of that punishment up for you,” he said.

“Oh, yes, it was a punishment all right,” replied Stuart. “Bloomin’ hard work. But I’m glad I can do it now.”

Stuart confirmed that he and Pierre would come and they would get in touch again soon.

Ben Alki Mazrouth was also enthusiastic.

“About time I did something useful,” he said. “I haven’t really up until now.”

“Well what about when you helped to stop Razjosh’s switch-off?” said Kaleem.

“Well, that was me and a few others,” said Ben Alki.

“Yes, but we couldn’t have done it without you,” said Kaleem.

Ben Alki shrugged.  “I’d really like to do this,” he said. “Not just because it would be exciting, going to another planet. I’d like to work with you – for you, if you like, all the time. The projects I’ve done so far have been pretty meaningless.”

Kaleem couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Somebody actually wanted to work with him.

So, everybody was in agreement then. They would all come on this mission and perhaps more importantly would happily receive visitors from Zandra.

There was just one more communication he needed to make now. Rozia. That one he was dreading.

How could he ask her to come here? How could he even talk to her? He couldn’t be comfortable around her, that he knew. What would it be like for her?

He was suddenly hit by a wave of memories. How he’d first met her. How they went into the Z Zone together. How good she’d been with the Adulkis. Then the terrible scene when she’d fallen unconscious. All those weeks when she’d been in that coma.  And finally when he’d had to leave her. He didn’t want to. Of course he didn’t. But it had been the right thing to do.

He’d followed her Glog all those months.  He knew how it was for her now. She was with Julien now. She loved this new man as much as she had once loved him. In a different way but just as much.

Kaleem could not imagine himself being with anybody else. That at least was something he had in common with Nazaert. Now that he had found the one, there could be no other woman for him.

Obviously different for her. But that’s what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? That she should be happy with someone else. Well, it was one thing knowing that this was right. It was another entirely feeling okay about it.

Whatever the rights and wrongs about it all, how was he going to face her?  How was he going to do it?

But do it he must.

He called up her sign.

The dataserve screen flickered. Then it went black. In fact all the lights went out in the apartment. An alarm started sounding. The whole building started to shake. The doors on cupboards flew open and objects on shelves fell to the ground. There was a low rumble all the time. Kaleem found it hard to keep his balance.     

“We have to get out,” shouted Nazaret.      

Get your copy here!

The Tower, Imagining a Tower, by Gill James

 

Enmerkar looked steadily at the stranger.

“What did the King say he wanted?”

“He says he wants to discuss a plan for a new building, something very big. Perhaps the biggest he has ever planned,” the messenger replied. 

The man’s clothes were covered in dust. He had obviously been riding a long time. In this heat as well.

“You must be tired and thirsty,” said Enmerkar. “May I offer you some refreshment?”

The messenger nodded and bowed slightly.

“Mariam,” called Enmerkar.

His sister arrived. Her eyes met his, she smiled briefly, bowed to the messenger and then lowered her eyes. Even with her head covered and even though her diamond-like eyes were no longer showing, she was more beautiful than any woman Enmerkar had ever met. No, he didn’t have any improper thoughts about her. She was his sister and you just did not think that way about your sister. But it did make it difficult for him to take a wife himself. His sister was setting a high standard. Besides, he had to look after her until he had found a husband for her and she was married. That was proving difficult.       

Enmerkar smiled to himself, though, as he watched the man’s eyes grew round. His sister always had this effect. No man between here and Babylon was able to resist her. Despite his tiredness, this man, Enmerkar could see, was aroused.

“Fetch some wine, some olives and some of our best cheese,” commanded Enmerkar. “And wear a full veil when you return,” he whispered.

“She is betrothed?” asked the stranger after Mariam had left them.

Enmerkar sighed. “No, she is far too fussy. Much too grand to elect a mere messenger from the king.”

The man blushed.

Enmerkar regretted what he had said straight away. He was not superior to this man. Yes, he was a master builder, like their father had been. They were a well-respected family and were quite wealthy now but they were after all just workers, servants almost. Someone from the king’s court would actually be a very good match indeed for Mariam.  

“Do you have any idea what he actually wants?” asked Enmerkar as he watched the man eat and drink.

“No, just that it is a big project,” replied the man. “A little crazy perhaps.”

“And there is no other builder who can do it?” asked Enmerkar.

The man shook his head. “He asked for you.”

Enmerkar sighed. “Well, I guess we should set off at sunrise tomorrow. But I warn you, I shall have to bring my sister.”          

 

King Nimrod slowly paced up and down as he talked. He waved his long arms every time he spoke.

“It will have to be the grandest building ever made. It must be glorious. It must speak to God!” He turned to look at Enmerkar. “You will have your chance, my friend,” he said, “to show off your fine building skills. To use your little baked bricks. It will be your moment of glory.”

Enmerkar shuddered inside. The type of building project Nimrod seemed to be talking about would take years. He only had a few skilled men who knew how to make the bricks and how to slime them together. Even training up others would take months. And he daren’t use unskilled workers.

And Nimrod was being so vague about exactly what he did want.  

“Is there really no other builder you can use?” asked Enmerkar. But he already knew the answer. He was, after all, the master builder.

Nimrod stopped pacing. “I will even accept your sister as a wife for my youngest son,” he said. “Without a dowry.” Then he laughed. “Though with what I propose to pay you for this project you could give a handsome dowry for a dozen sisters.”

That would be something, Enmerkar supposed. Get Mariam off his hands. Surely she would not object to marrying a prince? Even if it was not one of the heirs to the royal title. In fact, Nimrod’s youngest son, Joshua was far pleasanter than the twins, Hunor and Magor.  He’d even seen Mariam talking to him and laughing – without her face veil, the hussy – so perhaps already something was there. Perhaps this young man could make her happy.

He would have to accept this challenge. The building was going to be difficult. At least his sister would be settled and maybe he too would have time to seek out a wife. Maybe a fine one, here at the court. And with the sum Nimrod was prepared to pay, he would never have to think about money again.

“Very well,” he said. “But only if I have full control over the design, the choice of materials, the choice of workers and the pace at which the work is completed.”

“Indeed, my friend,” replied Nimrod and embraced Enmerkar.

The king was a tall, muscular man and immensely strong. Enmerkar could barely breathe as Nimrod squeezed him.

“Now let us send for our young relatives and let them know the good news,” said the king, finally letting Enmerkar go.    

 

It was even hotter here at the palace than at home. Enmerkar was finding it difficult to think straight. He dreaded baking the bricks for such a project. Would it be easier to have them made at home and transported here? It would be cooler there. A little at least. 

Home. Ah! This would be his home now. For years. Yes, years, not months.

There was one consolation. Mariam had accepted Joshua as a husband with only a little protest. “Oh, but why not Magor or Hunor? Think, brother, your sister as a queen!” In the end, though, she’d settled for Joshua. And he’d been right; they were falling in love. He’d even caught them lying together and had had to play the angry brother – though not too much so, because he was dealing with the king’s son. Secretly, though, he was pleased. So, a wedding had to be planned too. The sooner the better perhaps, if that couple were to carry on being so promiscuous. A prince’s bride should not be with child when she marries. Planning a wedding anyway was a welcome distraction from planning this impossible tower.  And there was something further that was also occupying his mind: the friendship he was enjoying with Naomi, the king’s niece. Could it be… would she be the one? She didn’t excite him, hardly aroused him even, but she was certainly pretty enough. Good company, in fact. He presumed love would grow …

But now he must get back to the tower. If he made it 5433 cubits, if he made it taper… then surely the bricks at the bottom wouldn’t collapse. He wanted it to be a sort of Ziggurat, Nimrod had said, but much bigger than normal. Just how many bricks would that need? How much clay would he have to find and how many men would he need to fetch the clay, shape the bricks and then put them together? He had some calculations to do now. He must not be distracted by the thoughts of weddings and of women.   

Soon he was absorbed again in his mathematics. The base was going to have to be huge so that the tower could taper and still be useful at the top. No one had been able to tell him - not even the sages Nimrod had asked in for advice – just how high he would have to make the tower so that it would touch the sky. But if Nimrod really wanted a true Ziggurat… well the spiral pathway up the tower would be so wide that he would be able to place small lodgings at the sides… maybe even small fields for the animals. And of course, people walking to the top or travelling by ass would need places to rest and take some refreshment. It wouldn’t just be a tower. It would be a whole city.

The noise of someone clearing their throat broke his concentration.

“And so how is it going, my fine friend?” asked Baltuus.

Enmerkar recognized the man he had dined with the night before. He was one of the sages who knew a lot about mathematics

Enmerkar sighed. “It is going to take a lot of clay, a lot of fire to bake the bricks and a lot of men. And no end of time.” He looked down at the notes he had made. “Seventeen years. And only then if I can find enough good men to train and if their training works.”

Baltuus shook his head. “Why must he build the tower so high? What does he hope to gain by it?”

“He wants to show what man can achieve,” replied Enmerkar.

“But why not just build a fine city?” asked Baltuus. “Won’t that do just as well, be more useful, and in fact much easier to build?”

“He wants to stretch it to Heaven, so that even Yahweh will have to admire how great man is,” replied Enmerkar.

Baltuus shook his head, as he examined Enmerkar’s calculations. “That will never work, my friend.”

“The bricks won’t hold, you mean?” asked Enmerkar.

“No, no, no, not that,” replied Baltuus. “Your calculations are correct. I’m talking about trying to impress Yahweh. Look around you. Look at the mountains and the seas. And the trees and the beasts. Now that is an impressive creation. Your tower is nothing in comparison.

“Now if you said that you were building the tower so that you could talk more easily with Yahweh, that might be a different matter,” said Baltuus.

“It would make him angry,” answered Enmerkar. He could just picture Nimrod’s answer to that.

Baltuus nodded his head and tapped Enmerkar’s shoulder. “Take care, my friend,” he said. “You are right. This tower will cause anger.”   

 

 Get your copy here.