“You’re almost home, darling,” she said. “Almost home.”
* * *
F ROM ATOP the pale-colored rooftop in the city, Grant and Rosalia watched Ullikummis’s loyal troops swarm into the streets of bone. Grant looked to where the great dragon head loomed above the buildings, waiting emotionlessly in the center of the strange structure. They were perhaps five miles from that central hull, but the pathways to it were labyrinthine, following the addling design of the corpuscles that should flood through the great dragon’s wings. The wings themselves stretched as mighty crescents along the banks of the Euphrates, two great quarter moons poised and ready to take flight.
“So, Magistrate, what are we going to do?” Rosalia asked, as just below them hundreds of troops surged in from the city limits.
“Ullikummis will section off the city,” Grant said, extrapolating from what he had just seen. “Close in on the center where Enlil is housed.
“Of course, he doesn’t know Enlil’s down for the count,” the ex-Mag added sourly. “Ironically, that might have been the one thing that would stop him. I wouldn’t have placed a wager on who would win in a fight between Enlil and Ullikummis.”
“But now?” Rosalia prompted. Down below them, strange stone-skinned dogs howled as they trotted ahead through the streets, leading the way and searching for the best route to the center. The bodies of the hounds were long, and they weaved through the turn-around-again streets like liquid, their stone bodies darting ahead of the surging mob in dark blurs.
Grant pondered Rosalia’s question for a moment. “Now, Ullikummis can take control of whatever’s left of Tiamat unchallenged,” he reasoned. “And even though she’s dying, that’s still a whole lot wide of ideal for us. Tiamat ’s full of Annunaki secrets, evolutionary sequencing codes that encourage perverted genetic tampering. Hell, you saw what the ship did to those people who got caught up in its grasp. They were turned into Annunaki, or at least Annunaki-lite. The ship’s reeling just now, but...”
“Enlil regrew her,” Rosalia realized. “So there’s always the chance that Ullikummis—or someone else—could do the same.”
“Exactly,” Grant confirmed with a brisk nod. “It’ll take too long to get that bombing raid set up. We have to find a way to stop him before he gets there.”
As he spoke, one of the stone dogs trotted up the steps that clung to the side of the building. The dog’s long snout twitched as it sniffed at the air, ears flicking as it listened. It had sensed them, strangers on the rooftop above it. The beast was powerfully built, its torso and limbs corded muscle that writhed like snakes beneath the stone-hard covering of its skin. Reaching the top of the steps, the dog sniffed at the air again, eyes narrowing as it sought a way to get higher. Then, with a grunt, the dog pounced up, hind legs slapping against the opposing wall, using its momentum to reach the roof.
“What th—?” Grant began, but already the dog had spied them and was barreling across the roof.
There was next to no time to react. Grant merely stood his ground, raising his right hand and commanding the Sin Eater into its palm once again, firing a swift burst as the dog leaped at them. A flurry of 9 mm
molybdenum-shelled bullets struck the hound’s stone body, impacting like hailstones against tarmac, bouncing away in the blink of an eye with sparks of angry light.
Then the dog was on Grant, knocking him a half-dozen steps backward and forcing him onto the hard surface of the roof.
Rosalia leaped aside, pulling the Ruger P-85 pistol from its holster at her hip as she whirled in the air. In a moment a triburst of Parabellum bullets drilled through the air, hurtling toward the muscular beast as it jostled for position over Grant, furiously snapping its jaws.
It was a powerful beast, and its body had the length and thickness of a circus strongman. Its legs
* * *
F ROM ATOP the pale-colored rooftop in the city, Grant and Rosalia watched Ullikummis’s loyal troops swarm into the streets of bone. Grant looked to where the great dragon head loomed above the buildings, waiting emotionlessly in the center of the strange structure. They were perhaps five miles from that central hull, but the pathways to it were labyrinthine, following the addling design of the corpuscles that should flood through the great dragon’s wings. The wings themselves stretched as mighty crescents along the banks of the Euphrates, two great quarter moons poised and ready to take flight.
“So, Magistrate, what are we going to do?” Rosalia asked, as just below them hundreds of troops surged in from the city limits.
“Ullikummis will section off the city,” Grant said, extrapolating from what he had just seen. “Close in on the center where Enlil is housed.
“Of course, he doesn’t know Enlil’s down for the count,” the ex-Mag added sourly. “Ironically, that might have been the one thing that would stop him. I wouldn’t have placed a wager on who would win in a fight between Enlil and Ullikummis.”
“But now?” Rosalia prompted. Down below them, strange stone-skinned dogs howled as they trotted ahead through the streets, leading the way and searching for the best route to the center. The bodies of the hounds were long, and they weaved through the turn-around-again streets like liquid, their stone bodies darting ahead of the surging mob in dark blurs.
Grant pondered Rosalia’s question for a moment. “Now, Ullikummis can take control of whatever’s left of Tiamat unchallenged,” he reasoned. “And even though she’s dying, that’s still a whole lot wide of ideal for us. Tiamat ’s full of Annunaki secrets, evolutionary sequencing codes that encourage perverted genetic tampering. Hell, you saw what the ship did to those people who got caught up in its grasp. They were turned into Annunaki, or at least Annunaki-lite. The ship’s reeling just now, but...”
“Enlil regrew her,” Rosalia realized. “So there’s always the chance that Ullikummis—or someone else—could do the same.”
“Exactly,” Grant confirmed with a brisk nod. “It’ll take too long to get that bombing raid set up. We have to find a way to stop him before he gets there.”
As he spoke, one of the stone dogs trotted up the steps that clung to the side of the building. The dog’s long snout twitched as it sniffed at the air, ears flicking as it listened. It had sensed them, strangers on the rooftop above it. The beast was powerfully built, its torso and limbs corded muscle that writhed like snakes beneath the stone-hard covering of its skin. Reaching the top of the steps, the dog sniffed at the air again, eyes narrowing as it sought a way to get higher. Then, with a grunt, the dog pounced up, hind legs slapping against the opposing wall, using its momentum to reach the roof.
“What th—?” Grant began, but already the dog had spied them and was barreling across the roof.
There was next to no time to react. Grant merely stood his ground, raising his right hand and commanding the Sin Eater into its palm once again, firing a swift burst as the dog leaped at them. A flurry of 9 mm
molybdenum-shelled bullets struck the hound’s stone body, impacting like hailstones against tarmac, bouncing away in the blink of an eye with sparks of angry light.
Then the dog was on Grant, knocking him a half-dozen steps backward and forcing him onto the hard surface of the roof.
Rosalia leaped aside, pulling the Ruger P-85 pistol from its holster at her hip as she whirled in the air. In a moment a triburst of Parabellum bullets drilled through the air, hurtling toward the muscular beast as it jostled for position over Grant, furiously snapping its jaws.
It was a powerful beast, and its body had the length and thickness of a circus strongman. Its legs
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