Ori straightened the folds of the ridiculous disguise and prepared to enter the city.

Remember, said Prajapati. You're a male human. Don't talk to the women in private – or in a way that could be misconstrued as flirting. They're funny about things like that. And stay in the form we've chosen. No sprouting wings. We don't want to start any more mythology.

Ori nodded. 'No mythology, be careful of the gender stuff. Got it. Remind me: why am I here?'

To get a read on what they're up to. We can't stabilise The Building if we don't know why it's gone wonky. Go on in and be careful about talking to yourself. Humans think it's a sign of mental instability.

Ori choked. 'They'd be the ones to talk.' Still, Ori resolved to talk to Prajapati on the mental frequency and continued down the road toward the city on the horizon. The sky was blue, the air was, frankly, too hot, and the landscape was flat and boring. Along the road, Ori saw families with handcarts, herders with sheep and goats, and the occasional pompous-looking male individual striding along in a long robe, funny hat, and weirdly-trimmed beard, carrying a staff. These individuals turned out to be the local priesthood.

Ori inadvertently fell in with one of these. A stout and silly-looking fellow with a comically pompous manner apparently decided Ori looked like a good walking companion.

'Hello, there, young man, going to the big city for the first time?'

'I am, indeed, sir,' Ori said. 'I really don't know what to expect. I've never seen so many hum…er, people in one place at once.'

The priest chuckled indulgently. 'That's the usual experience of many of our country people. The great city of Warka is indeed impressive. This, of course, is due to our people's assiduous worship of the gods.' He looked very pleased about that.

'My name is Maruduk-bal-idinna,' he said. 'But everyone calls me Bidi.'

Bidi turned out to be a friendly guy – just a bit talkative, which suited Ori down to the dusty Mesopotamian ground. After all, Ori was here to learn. Bidi chattered on about the wonderfulness of Warka: its evidently central place in the cosmos, protected by all its gods and goddesses. Ori asked questions about this mythology, which made Bidi a very happy man, indeed.

Bidi: 'The gods were made by the Creator to tend the earth. But the gods were lazy.'

'So why worship them, then?'

'They have power. Get on their good side and you can have success, build cities, things like that. But you've got to flatter them.'

Ori thought about that. That might actually work if that lot in The Penthouse ever bothered paying attention to what was going on down here on the other floors. Aloud Ori asked, 'So how does this work?'

Bidi beamed. 'You have to figure out which god is good for what. Like Ea's the water god. You have to be nice to him so the water in the rivers doesn't come up and flood. Flooding is bad news…'

'…especially when the whole city's made of mud brick,' said Ori. Bidi shrugged.

'And then you have to take the power structure into account.'

Ori was confused. 'Power structure…? You mean there are unequal gods?'

Bidi went into storytelling mode. 'See, once upon a time, there was an evil goddess named Tiamat. She hated everybody, including the other gods. They were afraid of her because she was so powerful. But Ea had an idea.'

He continued, 'Ea picked Marduk as his candidate for leader of the gods. Marduk is a great warrior. To get the other gods to agree to the plan, Ea and Marduk invited them to a banquet.

'At the banquet, Ea and Marduk served lots of pancakes – the god's favourite food.'

Ori squinted. 'Pancakes, huh?'

Bidi nodded. 'Everybody knows that. They just love pancakes. And date wine. After awhile, the gods were pretty mellow, what with the pancakes…'

'… and all that date wine.'

'You got it! So they agreed that if Marduk could defeat Tiamat, they'd elect Marduk king.'

'An interesting form of government,' was all Ori could say. 'So it worked?'

Bidi beamed. 'It worked like a dream! Of course, there was an epic battle up there in the heavens. Wham, bam, go away, ma'am! But Marduk was the victor – he rammed a spear right down her throat! – and now Marduk is the principal god. Which is why he gets the biggest temple.'

'Which you work at,' guessed Ori.

Bidi poked Ori in the ribs. 'You guessed it! You're a bright young fella. I believe you could be going places.'

By the time the travellers had reached the city, Bidi had made up his mind that Ori would absolutely have to become a priest-in-training at the temple of Marduk.

He squinted at Ori. 'You have something spiritual about you, you know. I think you'll fit in fine.'

Ori was a bit doubtful. 'Don't I have to have particular skills?'

Bidi thought. 'You have to be able to read and write well. Can you read this? It's a letter I'm delivering in the city.'

He pulled something out of his pouch. It was a dried clay tablet.

Ori studied it. Of course they write in clay, he thought. They make everything else out of clay, so why not? Ori could understand any language and read any writing, so he read:

Tell Ea-Nasir: Nanni sends the following message: When you came, you said to me: 'I will give fine quality copper ingots.' You left, but you did not do what you promised me. You put ingots which were not good before my messenger and said: 'If you want to take them, take them; if you do not want to take them, go away!'

What do you take me for that you treat me with such contempt? …

Take notice that I will not accept any copper from you that is not of fine quality. I shall select and take the ingots individually in my yard, and I shall exercise against you my right of rejection because you have treated me with contempt.¹

'Excellent reading!' said Bidi. 'You can start as a scribe and we'll teach you the rest.'

Oh, well, thought Ori. It's a way to learn. And it's not like this is exactly celestial science. So Ori agreed to come aboard as a scribe/apprentice priest.

The walk was long but not unpleasant. Still, Ori was glad when they arrived at Warka. Being with such an important man, Ori had no trouble being let in the gate.

The living quarters for the priests and their acolytes turned out to be in a house down a quiet alley behind the temple. It was dark by the time they arrived, and Ori was tired from all the talking. Supper was welcome – even if it did consist of pancakes and date wine.

The gods can have that date wine, Ori thought while falling asleep on a rather nice pallet. But the pancakes were nice.

Good night, said Prajapati.

Dmitri Gheorgheni