SPLIT TONGUE

All around, the melee devolved into hysteria. Workers rushed to abandon the scaffolding, leaving it to topple over haphazardly. Ankle deep in muddy water, I looked up to see the sky flash with bolts of jagged lightning. Suddenly, in a striking coruscation of clarity, I knew what was coming. I drew back some hundred spans from the Tower and waited for the consummation of Celia’s prophecy. Devoid of workers, the Tower loomed before me. Its sloped sides, plated with ceramic bricks slathered in black pitch, were ringed with an elegant limestone spiral stair. Brazen ornaments of cunning design studded the rising tiers, and indigo engravings artfully completed the Tower’s magnificent form. Then, upon the sixth hour, the rain abruptly ceased, the wind dropped to a dead calm, and all became eerily silent. As though caught in the doldrums of the sea, all life stilled in fearful expectation. My gaze remained fixed upon the Tower. I felt utterly alone as I stared upward, the crowd of onlookers mysteriously blocked from my senses. My mind bereft of every sound, every distraction, I could only focus upon the unfinished pinnacle of the Tower. The scene turned surreal as I watched the dark clouds part to create a circular opening around its tip, exposing it like a victim’s neck placed upon the chopping block. Suddenly, a great meteor-like ball of fire descended from the heavens to voraciously engulf my beloved Tower in flame. Though the edifice had been thoroughly wetted by the torrential rains, it was set ablaze immediately. The angry conflagration crept quickly down the bitumen covered bricks and limestone staircase, until the entire Tower became a fantastic pillar of flame. The heat thrown from the inferno was so intense all who watched hurriedly withdrew to a safe distance, fearfully wondering at the incredible and breathtaking display before them. Aghast, I sank to my knees in the mud and rent my kingly cloak in utter grief and humiliation. How could this be happening? As if in answer to my unspoken query, I heard a voice emanate from round about the burning Tower. “Fear not,” the voice boomed. I looked about to see if others could hear this astonishing phenomenon, but all seemed oblivious, their eyes still riveted upon the burning edifice. I returned my gaze to the Tower, and the enigmatic utterance continued. “I am the Lord thy God, Nimru—creator of Heaven and Earth. The tower built by thy hand is an abomination in my sight, and must be destroyed. Mankind shall not attain equality to me. Thou shalt not elevate humanity to the status of God. The breach between Heaven and Earth shall remain until I mend it myself, according to my will. Turn from thy iniquity and embrace the faith of thy ancestor Noah, and thou shalt be forgiven; sacrifice to me and thou shalt receive mercy. If thou doest not these things, thy efforts shalt be destroyed, thy kingdom diminished, and thy people divided. Thy name shalt be stricken from the annals of kings—thy legacy forgotten. “I call Heaven and Earth as witnesses today against thee, that I have set before thee life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore, choose life that both thou and thy seed may live.” The mighty voice fell silent as the flames began slowly to abate. My soul withered, and I sobbed aloud in disconsolate anguish. Time seemed to halt as I knelt in the muck to consider the divine ultimatum. Another fork in the road of my life. Another chance to shift my destiny. Another link in the chain of regret I had hitherto forged, for I knew in my heart the decision had already been made. I startled as Peleg suddenly appeared at my side. He reached out to try and raise me from the mire. He spoke urgently to me, but I found I could not understand him, so deep was my despair. He hauled me to my feet, intoning words of gibberish all the while. I finally shook him off and shouted into his face, “Can you not see my distress? Speak plainly, man, for I am in no mood for nonsense!” Peleg looked at me, wide-eyed and uncomprehending. The Tower continued to smolder behind us whilst the sky cleared and the storm subsided. He then repeated the same unintelligible jargon, slowly enunciating each syllable. It was no use. I could not discern a single word he said. I shook my head, thinking my mind played tricks on me, when I realized the surrounding crowd was engaged in a frenetic cacophony. My splendid city of Uruk had descended into wild pandemonium in the space of a few unfathomable hours, its crown jewel—the Tower of Man—crumbling into ashes before my eyes. As the top of the Tower began to list and collapse, the citizens of Uruk ran for their lives to avoid being crushed beneath the burning rubble. I felt vaguely aware of the masses of people that rushed past me like ocean swells that break upon the rocks, but found I was unable to move, or even care, whether or not I perished amid the flaming debris. Tears streamed down my face to mix with the rain. Never had I experienced such profound sorrow. Finally, Peleg, along with Tar, who presently emerged from the milling throng, took hold of my arms and forced me from the dangerous area. Still in shock, I submitted to them and allowed myself to be borne away to the palace. Later that day, as I lay in a stupor upon my lavish bed, unable to comprehend any of my servants’ or guards’ speech, I could think of only one thing. All was lost. My dreams had dissipated like a vapor—the Tower a ruin, my kingship a cruel mockery, and the God of the ages my personal enemy. Ah, the senseless vanity of man….