When Ori and Hani returned to Nineveh they found a completely different city than the one they had left.

The streets were clean.

People and animals appeared to be well-fed and content.

There was greenery everywhere, thanks to expert gardening and irrigation.

Everyone looked busy but happy. Kids went to school in the mornings, came home for the midday meal followed by the early-afternoon siesta, then helped their parents in homes, stalls, and workshops, combining family time with learning. Grandmothers tended stewpots and babies. Grandfathers hung around street corners playing board games, drinking beer, and offering to reminisce for the benefit of anyone who'd listen. Dogs fetched, goats ate the weeds, ducks laid eggs, and cats supervised.

Commerce appeared to be booming. Best of all, there was no sign of the oppressive mismanagement of the previous administration. Infrastructure had been repaired, and nobody was bossing anybody else around.

'How did you do it?' Ori asked Nisaba in wonder.

The good-hearted hotelier laughed: her laughter was infectious. 'It wasn't hard once we grasped a very important principle.'

Ori and Hani leaned forward across the table, all ears.

'At first, we were angry about how badly we'd been treated,' Nisaba said. 'People wanted to storm the Town Council building, the guild halls, and the rich merchants' houses. They wanted to seize the guard stations and courtrooms and put the miscreants on trial. There were shouts of off with their heads and such.'

Hani nodded. 'I can imagine. What stopped them?'

'They realised that getting even wasn't fixing. They might waste all their energy and momentum on revenge and have none left for the things they really wanted – things like fresh food, schools, fair trade, cleaner streets. . .in the end, common sense won out.'

Gili and Jonah joined them. Gili had some thoughts of her own. 'There was another important realisation,' she told Nisaba. 'For just about forever, it seems to me, anytime you suggested that maybe it wasn't the best idea in the world to let a few scam artists run the city and take from the poor, some fool was bound to look at you with mock pity and say something incredibly stupid like, That's adorable. You actually think you can change the world! It's always been like this, and it will always be like this.' Gili shrugged. 'Somehow, we finally got over believing that. Just because fools say things like that is no reason for us to waste our lives accepting the unacceptable.'

The whole time Gili was speaking, Jonah, sitting beside her, was gazing at her with the adoration angels reserved for celestial harmonies. The formerly scruffy prophet had undergone a transformation: he was neat, clean, and appeared to be in his right mind for a change. To Ori and Hani's surprise, he hadn't spouted any nonsense the whole time they'd been with him. They considered this a considerable achievement on the part of his talented wife. Ori and Hani weren't really surprised to find that there had been a wedding in their absence, but were sorry to have missed the festivities.

Nisaba was thoughtful. 'Jonah, we're really glad you came here, you know that? You really started something and we're grateful.'

'Me?' Jonah was startled. 'I didn't do anything at all!' he protested. 'It was all you folks!'

Gili cocked her head. 'I think it was your story that convinced them,' she said. 'You were so set in your ways, so determined to uphold a belief system that taught you to despise anybody you regard as other. But you came, anyway. You went through a lot and you changed your mind. If you could, we could.' She squeezed his arm. Ori thought Jonah might pass out from sheer happiness.

'This is the best news we've heard in a long time,' said Hani, and Ori nodded. Then they ordered lunch.

Leaving their friends to their various pursuits, the two incognito angels went on a stroll around Nineveh – a much more pleasant pursuit than it had been before.

'I can't get over the difference,' confessed Hani. 'And all it took was good will and a little common sense.'

'Common sense,' commented Ori. 'Not always so common.' From that mysterious somewhere where he always was, Prajapati agreed.

Looking out from the city walls, Ori and Hani could see the roads stretching out from Nineveh to other places in Mesopotamia: Wassukanni, and Halab beyond; the ruins of Akkad; far south to Warka; but not to Babylon, which no one could find because it had become legendary – a scary bedtime story for children. Gibil and the other kids had done their work well.

'What's that?' Hani pointed in the direction of a tiny village a couple of hours' walk from the city gate. It didn't look too prosperous. There was no traffic headed that way, either.

'That's new,' said Ori. They decided to check it out.

The 'inn', if such it could be called, looked like what Hani termed 'a real dump.' Although the badly chipped sign outside advertised 'luxury accommodations', there wasn't much sign of luxury to be found. In fact, the place looked distinctly shabby. Other signs advertised 'nightly entertainment, high-class' and 'gourmet dining', although the few customers sitting glumly under the table awnings seemed to be unimpressed with the thin, warm beer.

'This place wasn't here before,' said Ori. 'And we haven't been gone that long, maybe a few months?' Hani nodded. So how did a place this new get to looking this rundown? they both thought.

It's a mystery about shabby motels, said Prajapati. Also public housing projects. It's the same throughout spacetime: the intent to commit criminal neglect somehow moves faster than plain old timeworn.

The proprietor of the place surprised them. Hani and Ori instantly recognised him as the 'witty' city councillor who had made jokes at Jonah's expense. What was he doing running a seedy inn? He was even wearing the same ornate robe as before. Only now, the garment was fraying at the hem and cuffs, and there were a couple of stains that cleaning had failed to get out. 'Come down in the world' is the phrase that leapt to mind. His carefully coiffed hair, ridiculous in these surroundings, fooled nobody.

The innkeeper, however, was as expansive in his manner as he had been as a city executive. He stood in the doorway and welcomed his two guests with a regal and condescending air. 'Come in, come in! Delights await you here at the Maranineveh! I am your host, Kingu. This is a very high-class establishment, which I'm sure you will appreciate. Come on in!'

Kingu led the way into the dark lobby, which was filled with elaborate but badly scratched furniture. 'You notice those fancy lamps?' He pointed to the terracotta oil lamps hanging from the ceiling. They were given to me by the king of Erech. He's a good friend. He said to me, Mr Kingu, I really love what you do for the hospitality industry over in Nineveh. I'd like you to have these tokens of my appreciation.' Kingu laughed. 'I can't help it, I'm popular. People like Kingu.'

Hani, trying to keep a straight face, said, 'With all this popularity, would you happen to have a double room for us for tonight?'

'Oh, yes,' said Kingu hastily. 'I can always make room for discriminating guests. We'll put you up in the deluxe suite reserved for visiting dignitaries. I can tell you're important people from. . .'

'Warka,' said Ori hastily, before Hani could make up anything more outrageous. After all, Ori had documentation as a scribe of that city. 'We're on a sort-of fact-finding mission for the temple there.'

'Of course,' said Kingu, impressed. He took a small bell from his robe and rang it, and a servant materialized beside him. 'Take these guests to the deluxe suite, and make sure they get one of my special cocktails. You'll like the suite,' he confided to Hani, who was still struggling with facial muscles. 'It has an on-suit bath and water closet.'

They followed the bell-hop upstairs to the 'deluxe suite', which turned out to be a largish room containing two beds, a chaise longue that was missing some of its stuffing, and a dust-covered table and chairs. The boy hastily dusted these off and pointed to the inside door.

'That's the on-suit,' he said with an eyeroll. 'We have to call it that. It's in the contract.'

'You did well,' Ori assured him, giving him a coin. The bell-hop opened the curtains and the door to the balcony before withdrawing.

As soon as he'd left, Hani let out a guffaw. 'His name is Kingu?' Hani gasped. 'He's well-named!'

'Kingu' was Sumerian for 'unskilled labourer'.

Ori sighed and surveyed the room. 'This furniture has definitely seen better days, and in a better place.'

'It could have stayed in a better place,' commented Hani, 'if its owner had had better morals.' Hani, too, explored the room, noting that the table wobbled and the carpet was frayed. Then the inquisitive angel looked into the 'on suit', and let out a howl of laughter that made Ori jump.

'You. Have. To. See. This,' Hani gasped, pointing.

Ori looked.

The 'on-suit' did, indeed, have a bathtub, as advertised. Also a water closet. The rest of the space in the room was taken up by piles of tablets. Tablets with writing on them.

Ori picked one up and read, 'Treaty of Nimrod with the leaders of Nineveh. . .wait, here's another. . .campaigns in Assyria. . .the Epic of Gilgamesh?' Ori looked at Hani in astonishment. 'He's taken the records and library of Nineveh and. . .'

'. . .stored them in a bathroom!' they both finished.

'That has to be a unique event, even for humans,' was all Hani could choke out, gasping for breath. Fortunately, the bell-hop reappeared with two 'cocktails' – which turned out to be a mixture of beer and citron juice, which wasn't half bad.

Dmitri Gheorgheni

14.08.23 Front Page

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