Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D. (36 page)

Lifting his head, Steven saw that off to his right a slave caravan entered the city through the large gate. When he caught site of Brummon, a half smile crested his face.
You made it. You don’t even have any more lash marks. Good for you.

His jubilation was short lived.

Apparently, one of the guards entering with Brummon recognized him and pointed at Steven with his elongated pinky finger.

To Steven, with rare exception, trying to pick out one guard from another was like trying to pick out one white goose from a hundred other identical white geese.

The guard from the slave caravan approached, carrying what turned out to be a leather collar. The Gray approached and slipped it over Steven’s head.

“Take your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty Gray!” Inside, Steven chuckled. He’d always wanted to say that. Well—almost that.

Shocked at Steven’s rebellion, the Gray tightened the slipknot and handed each of its two tethers to one of the Elite Guards that had joined them.

Then, as if he were a rabid dog, they stretched him taut, like he was the prize in a game of tug-of-war. The slipknot tightened, unforgivingly. While choking, Steven caught sight of Christie, her little head poking out from behind Ashlyn. He saw that she had tears streaming down her face. For Christie, seeing his torture was like watching her father all over again.

Suddenly, from high above, the Elite Guards within the mouth of the cobra began to blow horns.

Steven gasped for air as the Grays eased up and loosed the ropes. He tried to swallow but found it near impossible and very painful.

The horns ceased. The echo faded away.

Ashlyn and her group of slaves were led away to be joined with Brummon and the other groups. Steven was now alone and center stage. Within moments, he knew he would be meeting Enlil face to face.

The square, as Christie had called it, was filling with both humans and an occasional Neanderthal. They filed in from every street and passageway within the city, carrying containers of all shapes and sizes. Christie had told them that when the horns blew, it was the signal for humans to cease work and to gather in the square for water rations. No one dared miss it.

Brummon casually stepped up to Ashlyn’s side, taking advantage of the moment to burn the image of her nakedness into memory. His tethered Neanderthal counterpart, grunted loudly, displeased at seeing him gawking at Ashlyn.

“I never thought I’d see you two again!” His words an obvious double-entendre.

Ashlyn glanced over at him to see that he was staring downward, his eyes locked upon her full breasts. She never got the chance to reprimand him as two short blasts from the horns sounded. The thousands of gathered slaves fell to their knees. Those who responded slowly were reminded by the crack of a whip across their back. Steven however, was ordered to keep standing.

“Guess, it is take me to your leader time?” said Steven to the guard standing beside him. The two Elite Guards pulled his collar tighter, trying to silence him.

The shorter Gray standing in front of him, looked at him incredulously. “You da’r speak.”

The crowd hushed, whispers and elbows in the ribs, gathering the attention of those who had heard Steven’s audible defiance.

Though the collar was tight, Steven strained to speak. “Yes, Boo-boo bear. I dare speak! You are murderers; I have found you guilty. Your punishment shall be death! Tell Yogi over there”—Steven nodded to one of the Elite Guards—“to bring Enlil to me so that I can pronounce judgment against him.”

Steven had never seen any of the aliens express what he would call emotion. However, with a mere cock of the guard’s head and a couple of blinks, he knew that this one was truly stunned.

The Gray uttered something in his guttural, native tongue to another guard behind Steven, who then raised his rifle and fired it randomly into the crowd.

A small, frail woman in the middle was hit in the abdomen. She fell to the ground in agony as her body seized in a dying spasm. Her eyes bulged from the inflicted pain, blood seeping from her mouth to drip upon the white floor. Her thin, sun darkened body lay still, constricted into a fetal position.

“We punish yor’ ins’lence!”

“And I will punish you.” What Steven was doing, he had no idea. Being outrageously bold just felt right. He felt driven to stare his enemy down. If nothing else, Steven believed it might show the other slaves that captivity need not be tolerated.

The guard stopped dead his tracks. He had no idea what to do or how to respond.

Three short trumpet blasts sounded. The guard threw a quick glance at the palace and saw that the Elite Guards were already opening the immense doors. Each of them had hold of a ring, pulling it. Even then, the forty guards, twenty per door struggled to pull its weight.

He then turned and gave Steven a blow to the back of his head. “Bow yor’ head to the living God, Enlil—hum’n filth!”

Steven looked around and saw that the heads of all the guards were bowed.

“You dare to call Enlil, human filth!” said Steven, playfully quipping the words back, with a laugh. “You Grays are so ungrateful. No matter, let Enlil tell me himself, if he has the balls!”

Whispers raced through the thousands of gathered slaves.

The guard was trapped. He dared not defy the order to keep his head bowed, and yet, his inability to have gotten Steven to comply, had him in fear.

Steven loved being able to speak his mind, without having to fear any repercussion. He was actually having fun.

Steven stood tall; his head held high as the two large palace doors opened wide. “Enlil must have a small cock, trying to over-compensate with a large palace, huh?”

Steven thought he might have heard the guard standing next to him snicker—and Steven soon realized why. What came forth out of those doors was by no-means small.
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.

Steven’s mind raced.
The biblical account in Genesis of Enlil, Satan, depicting him as a serpent now seemed more plausible. Maybe it wasn’t just figurative!

“The hell we’re made in his image!” said Steven aloud.
None of this is making sense.

The ornamental golden cobra that was wrapped around the pyramid was exaggerated in size, but not by much. Especially considering that the serpent’s head alone was perhaps fifteen meters in length. The silver-scaled snake slowly slithered down the long ramp that led into the square, hissing, its forked tongue regularly stabbing at the air.

In typical snake like fashion, he slithered across the square toward Steven—and though the entrance to the pyramid was almost two hundred meters away, the snake was almost atop Steven before the end of his tail exited the palace.

“Enlil?” said Steven, his words almost a question.

“I am Enlil, your God!” the serpent hissed.

“I bet you’re a big hit with the girls,” said Steven. “Contrary to popular cliché, I’ve been told, size does matter!” The serpent blinked in surprise. Coming to a stop not three meters away, his body continued to slither behind him, catching up. Flaring his hood, Enlil arched backward and rose his head high into the air, hissing at the suns that were rising.

Steven stole a moment to glance at Ashlyn; he saw that she had hidden Christie behind her.

Looking back at the serpent, their eyes met. The serpent squinted, the center of his eyes changing into golden-yellow slits. He seemed to be studying Steven’s ability to watch him without cowering.

Preparing to strike, he drew backward and then with lightning speed, threw his head forward, swallowing the guard who stood beside Steven in a single gulp.

“I told him to be nice,” said Steven. “It’s a good thing you got rid of him! He was giving you a bad reputation. He actually called you, human filth.” Steven’s humor was a front to conceal his angst. Regardless of his resolve, the speed, size, and power of the serpent was overwhelming. He had no idea how he had thought he could defeat such an enemy.

Enlil, with a glance at his two Elite Guards, bayed they drop the leash to Steven’s collar and step away.

Slowly, Enlil moved to rest within a meter of Steven’s face. His black, forked tongue darted out, leaving yet another bleeding lash mark upon Steven’s already bleeding chest and neck. As he drew backwards again, Steven dared not look away, for he sensed that Enlil wanted to humble him before the on-looking crowd.

Slowly, the snake lowered his head and came even closer than before. After a hiss he said, “I am God, why do you provoke me so?” His voice was authoritative, slow, commanding. It resonated into every corner of the square, regardless of distance.

Steven was at a loss for words. He felt checkmated.

“Answer when spoken to, human!”

Steven remembered something he had learned at the academy—when cornered and outnumbered, go on the attack. “You are not God!” bellowed Steven, loud and clear for all to hear.

Hissing loudly, angrily, the serpent reared back. He lunged sideways and picked up a young man in his mouth. Then, almost ceremoniously, he pointed his head at the two suns and sent the man on a downward-slide into his throat. A fading scream could be heard as he was swallowed. The lump of the man’s body could be seen traveling along, his bones making a distinct snapping sound as he was crushed and churned within.

Most of the people watching, stood motionless, unaffected. It was apparently something to which they were genuinely accustomed.

Giving a long hiss, the serpent opened his mouth wide, almost as if yawning after a satisfying meal.

Again, he came to within a meter of Steven’s face. “What is your name, human?”

“Interesting, a God who asks questions!”

A moment’s pause came and went before the serpent, obviously shocked at such rebellion, began to rage wildly. Lifting his head thirty meters off the ground, he hissed at the sky, displaying unbelievable anger. His coils thrashed about, his tail whipping through the crowd, sending dozens of people flying and killing more than a few.

His yellow eyes focused narrowly upon Steven as he approached yet again. “I tortured the last human who defied me for days. I will ask you one last time. Answer, or your death will be even slower and more painful. What is your name?”

“It must be humiliating, not having anyone your own size to pick on! But still, you surprise me, Enlil—do you not recognize your own brother?”

“Enki?” Before Enlil could say more, Steven interjected.

“So, you do recognize me, my brother,” Steven shouted for all to hear. Steven took a chance, playing on a hunch. A soft murmur of conversation could be heard echoing among the thousands of slaves, both human and non-human. The snake went wild. His body changed colors. The pupils of his eyes glowed with a radiance equal to that of a sun.

“You are devious, human!” said Enlil with a laugh, “But Enki, you are not! Still, I find you amusing! If you will bow down before me and do me an act of obeisance, I will forgive your insolence and let most of these people live.” He finished his offer with a hiss.

“Enlil!” Steven screamed as he saw Enlil’s gaze fall upon Ashlyn. Steven could feel Enlil’s hunger for her. In her state of health, Ashlyn stood out like an orchid among weeds—but he also wondered if perhaps, Enlil was sensing that Ashlyn was pure Anunnaki.

“Enlil, hear me! Have you learned nothing? Did you not ask a similar thing of me once before?” Steven hoped that he was at least playing some of the cards right.

“Yes, I offered Enki the world and yet he refused! Am I to blame for his stupidity?”

“Yes, you offered me the world and I refused. You have broken Anunnaki law. You have disobeyed the Council to which you had sworn allegiance,” taunted Steven.

The serpent’s body churned, his tongue stabbing at the invisible air, as he again looked at Steven with keen attention. “Enlil, I Enki, speak for the Council of Twelve. Even as we speak, the fleet is en route to bring you to justice. Once again, you have enslaved these people and attacked their home world!”

“How do you know of such things?” said Enlil.

“Because I am Enki,” said Steven. “I speak for the Council.”

“You are not Enki—and so that all may know that you are not a god, loose yourself and stop me, human!”

The serpent rose high into the air. His body began to dissolve and change; he shifted form, becoming that of a Centaur. His height topped that of the Citadel’s walls. Now, Steven understood the power of the Gift of Knowledge.
Ash, this is the second gift! The power to shape-shift! That explains everything about Enlil’s reputation.

But—how do
we
do it?
she asked back.

The gathered slaves gasped at the sight. Out of fear, they backed away, crowding themselves up against the walls and buildings. Many bowed down, begging forgiveness.

“See, human, these people worship me. On this day, they shall see that I am the one, true God!” His hooves clacked loudly on the stone as he moved about the square. He stopped before an old man and pointed at him. “You! Give yourself to me!”

The old man bowed and then laid face down on the ground. “Watch, human, see for yourself.” The Centaur raised his hoof and lowered it upon the old man, crushing him.

“Enlil, I command you to stop!” said Steven, as he dared take a step forwards.

“You command, me? Watch your people die, Enki. Once they are all dead then I shall come for you.”

The Centaur turned and stomped the fleeing people beneath his hooves. The square was riotous, people fled in panic, screaming. The guards lining the parapets and down in the square, began shooting those who sought to escape.

Ashlyn had backed up against a wall and was huddling amongst the slaves. As if he were drawn to her, Enlil again spotted her and he moved toward her—as he moved, he transformed, once again becoming the snake.

Steven, worried for her safety, strained at his bonds with every ounce of his strength.

The crowd cleared as the serpent approached. As Enlil lunged for Ashlyn—in a single move, Ashlyn pushed Christie aside and jumped high into the air, giving Enlil a strong, roundhouse kick to the nose. Enlil reeled back, taking delight in her resistance. Ash used the moment to make a dash for her boots that lay on the ground twenty meters away.

She managed to get to her boots a second ahead of Enlil as he lunged for her. From her boot, Ashlyn pulled out a hidden knife. Diving off to her right side, she came back up into a standing position. With his next attack, she parried him with a backflip, easily evading him. As her feet hit the ground, in a blisteringly fast move, she let the knife fly. Taken by surprise and committed to his forward lunge, Enlil was helpless to avoid the knife as it landed squarely in his left pupil. The serpent reeled from his unaccustomed exposure to pain.

Ashlyn circled around him as he flailed about, moving out into the center of the square and drawing him away from Christie.