S. Stirling - Against the Tide of Years

"We shall take one area at a time, and in that area the soldiers shall go from house to house. Any sick shall be sent at once to the hospital. All others shall be inoculated… that word is too cumbersome. We shall call it the 'scratch of safeguard.' Yes. All shall receive the scratch of safety and be isolated after. So the Throne commands!"

"We obey," the nobles and high priests of the temples not in rebellion murmured. "La sanan, sa mahira la isu!"

Kenneth Hollard drew himself to attention and snapped a salute. Kathryn did likewise, and from Kashtiliash's nod, from something about his eyes, she thought he sensed the difference in the gesture.

"Lord Prince," the elder Hollard said. "The troops you have to cordon off the rebel areas are very few and will remain so until more are inoculated… have received the scratch of safeguarding."

Kashtiliash nodded. "That, my ally, is where you and your men- your troops-shall assist." He paused. "And if you would, your boats of steam could also be of help. We will need the blackwater, a great deal of it."

Colonel Hollard inclined his head. "Of course, Lord Prince… but why?"

Kasthiliash turned to Lieutenant Clemens. "You say that the bodies of the dead are dangerous?"

"Very, Lord Prince."

"Then we will need the blackwater oil for funeral pyres. A great many."

Ian Arnstein whistled as the Marine commander finished. "Well, you're right, I did need to hear that," he said.

"Your orders, sir?" Hollard said.

"Orders?"

"Do you want the Emancipator to turn back? Our base here is in… well, considerable danger."

"Do you need the airship to control Babylon?"

"Ah… no, sir. Bombing from the air is sort of a blunt instrument for crowd control."

"Then we'll continue to Hattusas."

"Sir… the plan was to have a secure base in Babylonia and overland supply lines. As it is, I have to divert virtually all our forces to helping Prince Kashtiliash reestablish order here."

"Colonel Hollard, Walker isn't going to wait, so we'll just have to do the best we can with what we have. I'll lay the groundwork with the Hittites, and you work on getting things back on track down south there."

A pause. "Yes, sir, Councilor."

Arnstein nodded, then cleared his throat as he remembered that the other man couldn't see him. "Looks like Prince Kashtiliash is taking charge decisively."

"Damn right, Councilor. I knew he was capable, but this is the first time we've seen him out of his father's shadow… and to tell you the truth, he's starting to look better as a possible brother-in-law."

"God forfend, Ken. The Meeting's sort of sensitive about citizens of the Republic as monarchs abroad, you know."

"I do know, oh, yes, indeed. I'd better let you get some sleep, then. I've got a busy night ahead of me."

"Take care; I can't spare you."

"That's mutual, Councilor. Good night to you and Doreen, then."

Arnstein clicked off and removed the headset, yawning again. "Not really much point in going back to sleep," he said. His mouth quirked as he looked at his wife. "Sorry, darling. Looks like I've gotten us out onto the end of a long limb, here."

"Do you think Ken was serious about the prince and his sister?"

"I have a horrible suspicion he was. After all, Kashtiliash is going to be king, now."

"Great King, King of Sumer and Akkad, King of the Four Corners of the World, King Who Does As He Damned Well Pleases."

"Unless he PO's so many important people that they kill him," Ian agreed. "But he's already getting the rebellion, and we're helping him put it down. So he's going to be in a very strong position indeed."

"Gevalt."

"Truer words were never spoken," Ian said. "Okay, we might as well go over this speech in Hittite. Thank God they've got a lot of Akkadian-speaking scribes up there!"

"Strange to see him so helpless," Kashtiliash murmured, so softly that only the woman by his side could hear him. "He always seemed a tower, or a mountain himself, eternal and strong-a wall of safety for me."

Kathryn nodded. "Perhaps you should stay here," she said. "You could be close by if he awakens and still direct the operations- messengers will find you more easily than if you're moving about."

"No, Kat'ryn, I must show myself to the troops. They are shaken- the arrows of the plague gods frighten them as the chariots and spearmen of Assyria did not."

"You're concerned with their loyalty?" she said, alarmed.

"Not the troops who fought under me in the north, no," he said, shaking his head. "The city militia, yes; and if this trouble lasts, perhaps some nobles and their followers. I am guarding my younger half brothers most carefully, lest one be spirited away to use as a rallying point for rebels. But the men I lead to Asshur's walls are with me; and they will stand by you Nantukhtar too-they remember how many of their lives you saved, with your guns and with your asu Clemens' arts. It is their fear I must put down, not rebellion."

She nodded reluctantly. "And I'll have to lead the first Kar-Duniash," she said. "They're not trained for street fighting and they're not used to operating as a unit, yet…" She hesitated. "It doesn't hurt you with your men, that you and I are… together?"

He grinned wider. "No, never. They say that Kashtiliash is the very Bull of Marduk; not only does he slay the lioness of the marshes with his spear of bronze, he brings the lioness who came from the sea to his bed with the spear of his manhood!"

Kathryn snorted. That is the way the sexist bastards would look at it, she thought.

"Let's get to work, then," she said briskly.

"Yes," he said. His voice turned gentle for a moment. "Good-bye, Father."

"They come!" the royal officer said, clutching at his upper arm where an arrow had gone through just below the short sleeve of his scale-mail shirt. "We could not hold them-too many. People of the city and temple guardsmen."

Even in the dark Hollard could see that there were fewer than the hundred-odd followers that the Babylonian should have had. Some were limping, some bleeding, and a number had their arms over the shoulders of comrades who bore their weight. Their wheezing breath was loud in the shuttered quiet of the street, but he could hear the snarling brabble of voices not far off and the thudding sound of feet.

"Fall in behind us, then," he said. "Our healers will see to your wounded. Hold yourself ready if I have need of you."

The Babylonian nodded, panting still, and staggered off for the rear.

This was one of the wider streets in this section of town-all of twenty feet across, with two- and three-story adobe buildings rearing up on either side. It stank, like a black open-topped sewer. There was no light but the crescent moon; he could hear a Fiernan-born Marine muttering an invocation.

"O'Rourke!" he said.

"Sir?" the company commander said.

"Take parties"-he tapped the first two fingers of each hand to either side-"evacuate those buildings, then blow them. Put the charges on interior walls so they'll fall in."

O'Rourke looked up thoughtfully. "I think I should put some snipers on the roofs further back as well, Colonel, sir," he said. "If I was a hell-born rioter with sedition and mischief on my mind, I'd have people on these roofs on either side when I tried to storm a barricade, so I would."

"Do it."

O'Rourke nodded, snapping off a salute and grinning whitely in the shadows, then walked off shouting orders. Marines raced back to the supply wagon and came out of it carrying small, heavy barrels, with lengths of fuse cord over their shoulders. More hammered in the doors, and the householders poured into the street, cursing or crying or clutching children and some snatched-up treasured possession. Hollard winced slightly-these people were about to lose everything they owned-but needs must when the devil drove, as the commodore said.