it?”
Noah looked as if he was contemplating simply walking away without answering the question. But then he said, “An ark. To protect the innocent when the Creator sends his deluge to sweep the
wicked
from the world.”
He stared hard at Tubal-cain as he emphasized the word “wicked.” The man snorted laughter.
“The Creator does not care what happens to this world. Nobody has heard from Him since He marked Cain. We are alone. Orphaned children. Cursed to struggle by the sweat of our brows to survive.” He sneered at Noah. “Damned if I don’t do everything it takes to do just that.”
Noah flinched at the words. It was like a terrible echo from his past. He knew what was coming next. As Tubal-cain spoke the words Noah spoke them with him.
“Damned if I don’t take what I want,” they said together.
Tubal-cain’s eyes narrowed.
“We’ve met before? I would remember…”
“I have never forgotten,” Noah said, still in that same controlled voice. “I am the son of Lamech. As a child I watched as, like a coward, you slaughtered him. An unarmed man. A holy man. And as a man I watched as you raped the world.”
Tubal-cain regarded Noah steadily, thoughtfully. He fingered the snakeskin draped over his shoulders, and smiled.
“You may smile,” Noah said, still allowing no bitterness, no anger to enter his voice. “But know that we have all been judged. Return to your cities of Cain. Wash the blood from your hands if you can. For soon He will wash away all of you.”
“Do you threaten me?” Tubal-cain asked, amused.
“No.”
Tubal-cain’s eyes flickered. It was clear that he was unnerved by Noah’s absolute but understated conviction. A note of irritation entered his voice.
“You talk bravely. All these men at my back, and you stand there alone and defy me.”
To Tubal-cain’s surprise the hint of a smile played across Noah’s features.
“I am not alone.”
All at once, creaking, clattering and rumbling, the huge rocks scattered around the clearing and marking its boundary began to stir. The Watchers,motionless and perfectly camouflaged until now, unfurled themselves and stood, rising to their full, majestic height. Swiftly and efficiently they moved into position, adopting a battle stance, each of them stretching out their six massive arms. Some of them held huge clubs fashioned from tree trunks and studded with nails, others clutched lumps of tzohar. Glaring down at Tubal-cain’s army, their black eyes glittering, their chests heaving as they breathed, they looked ferocious, magnificent, and terrifying.
Some of the women in Tubal-cain’s party screamed and ran. Even many of his soldiers began to scramble over one another in their efforts to retreat, terror stark on their faces.
Tubal-cain himself, clearly shaken, darted forward and snatched up his axe, though it looked no more effective than a toothpick now.
“His minions,” he barked. “Here with you…” He gestured at the sky with his weapon. “Miracles? A deluge, you claim? Well, perhaps you are right. Perhaps casting us out of Paradise was not enough. Perhaps He returns to finish us off. Well, if He does, I will ride out the storm in that ship of yours.”
Noah’s face was as stone-like as the Watchers that stood behind him. “There is no escape for you and your kind. Your time is done.”
He turned and walked away. As the Watchers slowly and menacingly advanced, forcing Tubal-cain and his men back, the warrior bellowed after Noah’s retreating figure.
“The land is dying. The cities are dead. My people follow me, and more will follow them. I am not afraid of miracles, son of Lamech. If you refuse to take my dozens on that Ark of yours, then I will return with legions!”
11
THE MAMMALS
W ork continued on the Ark, the Watchers moving with even greater urgency.
Noah stood in the clearing as the late afternoon sky deepened toward dusk, looking out at the line of trees from which Tubal-cain and his soldiers had
Noah looked as if he was contemplating simply walking away without answering the question. But then he said, “An ark. To protect the innocent when the Creator sends his deluge to sweep the
wicked
from the world.”
He stared hard at Tubal-cain as he emphasized the word “wicked.” The man snorted laughter.
“The Creator does not care what happens to this world. Nobody has heard from Him since He marked Cain. We are alone. Orphaned children. Cursed to struggle by the sweat of our brows to survive.” He sneered at Noah. “Damned if I don’t do everything it takes to do just that.”
Noah flinched at the words. It was like a terrible echo from his past. He knew what was coming next. As Tubal-cain spoke the words Noah spoke them with him.
“Damned if I don’t take what I want,” they said together.
Tubal-cain’s eyes narrowed.
“We’ve met before? I would remember…”
“I have never forgotten,” Noah said, still in that same controlled voice. “I am the son of Lamech. As a child I watched as, like a coward, you slaughtered him. An unarmed man. A holy man. And as a man I watched as you raped the world.”
Tubal-cain regarded Noah steadily, thoughtfully. He fingered the snakeskin draped over his shoulders, and smiled.
“You may smile,” Noah said, still allowing no bitterness, no anger to enter his voice. “But know that we have all been judged. Return to your cities of Cain. Wash the blood from your hands if you can. For soon He will wash away all of you.”
“Do you threaten me?” Tubal-cain asked, amused.
“No.”
Tubal-cain’s eyes flickered. It was clear that he was unnerved by Noah’s absolute but understated conviction. A note of irritation entered his voice.
“You talk bravely. All these men at my back, and you stand there alone and defy me.”
To Tubal-cain’s surprise the hint of a smile played across Noah’s features.
“I am not alone.”
All at once, creaking, clattering and rumbling, the huge rocks scattered around the clearing and marking its boundary began to stir. The Watchers,motionless and perfectly camouflaged until now, unfurled themselves and stood, rising to their full, majestic height. Swiftly and efficiently they moved into position, adopting a battle stance, each of them stretching out their six massive arms. Some of them held huge clubs fashioned from tree trunks and studded with nails, others clutched lumps of tzohar. Glaring down at Tubal-cain’s army, their black eyes glittering, their chests heaving as they breathed, they looked ferocious, magnificent, and terrifying.
Some of the women in Tubal-cain’s party screamed and ran. Even many of his soldiers began to scramble over one another in their efforts to retreat, terror stark on their faces.
Tubal-cain himself, clearly shaken, darted forward and snatched up his axe, though it looked no more effective than a toothpick now.
“His minions,” he barked. “Here with you…” He gestured at the sky with his weapon. “Miracles? A deluge, you claim? Well, perhaps you are right. Perhaps casting us out of Paradise was not enough. Perhaps He returns to finish us off. Well, if He does, I will ride out the storm in that ship of yours.”
Noah’s face was as stone-like as the Watchers that stood behind him. “There is no escape for you and your kind. Your time is done.”
He turned and walked away. As the Watchers slowly and menacingly advanced, forcing Tubal-cain and his men back, the warrior bellowed after Noah’s retreating figure.
“The land is dying. The cities are dead. My people follow me, and more will follow them. I am not afraid of miracles, son of Lamech. If you refuse to take my dozens on that Ark of yours, then I will return with legions!”
11
THE MAMMALS
W ork continued on the Ark, the Watchers moving with even greater urgency.
Noah stood in the clearing as the late afternoon sky deepened toward dusk, looking out at the line of trees from which Tubal-cain and his soldiers had
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