Ori was on the road again. After confirming that Enlil and his family had too much common sense to follow the Nimrod bubble, Ori had got leave from Bidi to make a field trip over to the new project to see what was going on. Bidi was promised a report. The road was just as dusty as Ori remembered it. At least this time Ori had a picnic basket packed by Zimah, with lots of nice veggie wraps, sweets, and bread for the journey.

The people on the road were extremely cheerful, even though many were pulling (or pushing, techniques varied) handcarts full of belongings for the move. Obviously, they were all-in for Nimrod's new venture, sight unseen. Some of them were singing:

O you youths, Sumerian youths,

So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,

Plain I see Sumerian youths, see you tramping with the foremost,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


Have the elder races halted?

Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the rivers?

We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


All the past we leave behind,

We debouch upon a newer mightier world, varied world,

Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labour and the march,

Pioneers! O pioneers!

Sounds kind of like a dirge, thought Ori, and Prajapati agreed.

That Nimrod is dangerously persuasive, said Prajapati.

Ori fell into conversation with a man pushing a handcart. Ori took turns with him to give him a rest, and asked what he was looking for in the new city that he didn't have in Warka.

'Freedom!' the man said. His name was Shemash. 'In Warka, the elites take everything! Nimrod will give us new opportunities!'

'Isn't Nimrod part of the elite?' asked Ori. 'He seems pretty rich to me. And he's related to the king.'

'Yeah, but he's an outsider like us. He's not like them. He lets us vote on everything. He's a man of the people!'

As long as the people vote for what he wants, thought Ori, but didn't say that. Instead Ori asked, 'What river is the new city on?'

The man shook his head. 'It isn't on a river. That's the beauty of it. All rivers do is flood! Who needs that aggravation? Babel is right in the middle of the plain. No water hazard. That's the genius of it! Oh, that Nimrod is clever! Everybody else built on a river, but not him!'

Ori squinted at the horizon, which was shimmering in the heat and bore no sign of a tree. 'Er, where will the city get its water?'

'Wells, silly! We'll dig wells!'

Ori thought about the problems of digging wells in an arid plain: how deep they would need to be, how many they would need for a city the size of Warka, or even much smaller…

'Do any of you know anything about digging wells?' Shemash shook his head impatiently.

'We'll let Nimrod think about that. Besides, how hard could it be?'

Ori shrugged and looked up and down the column to see if anybody had thought to bring along some donkeys. Donkeys were good at finding water and could dig as deep as four cubits¹ in search of it. But Ori didn't see any donkeys, at least not of the equid variety.

Ori helped push and listened to Shemash talk about his big plans for a new start in Babel. It seemed he planned to open a fashionable furniture shop.

'All the good locations in Warka were already taken,' Shemash complained. 'Beside, I couldn't join the guild without paying exorbitant dues. In Babel, I can start my own guild and people will go crazy for my new designs! I have great ideas.'

'I'm sure you do,' said Ori soothingly. 'But where will you get the raw materials? Don't reeds grow mostly near, I don't know, water?'

Shemash waved his hand. 'There you go again, seeing the downside! My friend, if you don't let go of this negativity it will choke you. Take it from me. I don't do negative. I'm always positive!'

'Yes, but…reeds. And glue. And varnish, and…'

'Oh, pish! Once they see how great Babel is going to be, the traders will rush all the necessary goods right to our doorsteps! Mark my words, this is going to be the most central location of all!'

Save your breath, advised Prajapati. You may need it. So Ori concentrated on the road.

That night they all camped along the road, lighting fires to discourage predators. Ori shared his food with Shemash. They bought some fruit juice from a vendor who went up and down the column and who, at least, was making money out of this exodus.

Staring up at the stars, Ori thought about how far the Paternoster journey had taken one lonely angel – and wondered how much farther it would be before Prajapati had manage to 'stabilise' the structure of The Building.

In the dark, Ori saw glowing eyes, but they kept their distance.

The next day went much like the first one. Shemash discovered some friends from his old neighbourhood, so Ori walked from group to group, listening to their chat. It seemed almost all of the migrants were looking forward to life in the new city with a great deal of optimism. Ori feared they had exaggerated expectations.

'I hear every new citizen will get a plot of land with a house and garden!'

Well, I heard that we can also buy shares in the Tower! We'll all be rich and have servants! Special conveniences in every apartment there! Balcony gardens, maid service, all included!'

The expectations grew with the telling. It helped to pass the time, Ori thought, because the road was really wearisome. Full of stones and not a tree or spring in sight, just scrubby bushes everywhere. Occasionally a wild goat was sighted in the distance, darting away before anybody could chase it.

It was late afternoon when the pilgrims came over a rise and saw…

Ori wasn't sure what they were looking at. It was the strangest building anyone had ever seen.

Round and round the Tower went, levels…no, that wasn't right, the floors weren't level, they were at a slant, rounding up and up and up, the structure narrowing slightly the higher it grew…made of mud brick, not fired, as far as Ori could tell…not terribly stable, either, but huge, enormous, rising from the plain like a challenge to…well, something…

Oh, heck.

Prajapati's exclamation was so loud in Ori's head that it actually hurt.

This is going to be a problem, was all Prajapati would say.

Dmitri Gheorgheni