The Children of the Company Read Online Free PDF Page B

about?” said Atrahasis, but he crossed to the cabinet and switched it on.
    “They want to know what the hell is going on,” said Vidya. Atrahasis saw the long green line of transmission and recoiled, but all he said was: “Forty messages. Well, that’s certainly some kind of record. Wouldn’t you think they’d have learned to trust me by now?”
    “I don’t think it’s a matter of trust,” said Vidya. “I think it’s a matter of Executive Facilitator Shamash having a bright young protégé in need of a posting. I think it’s a matter of looking for any excuse to boot you out on your ass. Sir.”
    “Really,” said Atrahasis.
    “Yes. Really. Sir.”
    “I am obliged to you for the warning, Security Technical,” said Atrahasis, kicking off his sandals. “You may go.”
    Vidya did not move. “I have been given certain orders, sir. You have twenty-four hours to bring the situation under control, and then I am to act. Permission to speak freely, sir?”
    “Granted.”
    “Do I have to point out the obvious? This mission is in jeopardy. A Company operation yielding millions in annual profits may be lost. The city you built is occupied by a hostile force. We will fail here, sir.”
    “I think you’re wrong,” said Atrahasis. “Consider the progress of recorded history. Perhaps it’s my time to step down. The age of priests comes to an end, doesn’t it? And civilization takes the next step upward, to an age of kings. Isn’t that what the Company wanted? Wasn’t that the point of all this? Somebody has to write Gilgamesh , after all.”
    He lit the lamp. In the blaze of gold that filled the room, he saw the contempt—and, infinitely more galling, the pity—in Vidya’s face.
    “What is wrong with you?” said Vidya, without raising his voice. “You, of all people, are infatuated with a mortal. You are attempting to win his approval. A stinking little monkey has defied you in front of the other mortals, and you fawn on him and call him brother. What’s next? Will you drink from one cup together? Will you offer to comb the lice from his hair?”
    He mixed the cup himself, in the gray hour before the sun rose. He carried it out to the garden and sat, watching the stars fade. White mist moved a while above the river, was thick over the river fields. The first laborers emerged from their huts and drove the teams of oxen down, into that mist, vanishing from sight as they would vanish in the abyss of time. Living ghosts. Their grandfathers were forgotten; their grandchildren would not remember them. Only this moment existed for them and it was all sweat, all stink, all grinding poverty.
    And so it has always been. And so it will always be.
    Enna-aru the king emerged from the temple, gilded by the rising sun. Atrahasis looked at him and smiled. He lifted the cup.
    “Drink with me, brother. To a better world, and better men.”
    “I will,” said Enna-aru, and took the cup and drank. He passed it back to Atrahasis, who paused a moment and then drank down what was left.
    He set down the cup and felt the biomechanicals swarming from under his
tongue, massing in his bloodstream to neutralize what had been in the cup. He flushed, felt the prickle of sweat under his armpits, felt the twinge in his lymph nodes; only psychosomatic reaction. After a moment he breathed more easily. The heat and nausea faded steadily.
    Enna-aru the king sat tranquil, cutting open a pomegranate with his curved dagger. The red drops fell like blood. He set aside half and broke the other open, revealing the rubies set in yellow membrane.
    “Pomegranate seeds?” he said, offering it to Atrahasis.
    “No, thank you,” Atrahasis replied.
    By noon the king was feverish. Atrahasis watched the flush grow in his cheeks, watched his eyes take on a certain glassiness as he studied the maps of the city canals and the grain warehouses.
    By twilight the king was sweating and faint, and the blotches had begun to come up under his skin. Atrahasis