Herotica 1. Kerry Greenwood

stared with great affection and admiration into Aaron’s eyes. With men like this in the world, Israel would surely survive.

      ‘Amen,’ said Nahum. ‘And I love you.’

      ‘I love you,’ said Aaron. ‘Even above Jerusalem, you are my chiefest joy.’

      THE EVACUATION OF ATLANTIS

      He joined Gnathos in the grav-sled storage niche at the harbour of Atlantis. Above him, the city circled its heights like a series of wheels, each set of walls laminated a different colour. Smoke was rising from their mountain. Daringly, Andros brushed the light, fluffy ash, which had been falling like snow for days, from his friend’s long curly red hair. Affection was frowned on in Atlantis. He longed for Gnathos with all his soul, but had never lain down with him, for fear that they would both be discovered and expunged.

      ‘Gnathos, why are we here, and what is that lump wriggling in your bag?’ he asked.

      ‘It is I,’ said a clear, scornful voice, stinging a little in his head.

      ‘Basht?’ he asked, staggered at the magnitude of his friend’s crime. ‘You stole one of the experimental felines?’

      ‘No, of course not,’ soothed Gnathos, stroking his cheek. ‘That would mean instant death.’ Andros relaxed until Gnathos continued. ‘I stole both.’

      ‘I am here,’ said a deeper voice, also stinging. Bashtet, mate of Basht.

      ‘But they’re telepathic and empathic and they said… the Ephors said they were to be euthanised, the experiment was over and we’re leaving, we can’t take them to Home Dimension! Gnathos, what have you done?’

      ‘Made a mistake about you, that is plain,’ said Gnathos. He clutched the cat closer. ‘Can I at least ask you to give us time to escape, before you call the Hounds on us?’

      ‘No, wait, Gnathos, my honey, you took me by surprise,’ protested Andros, catching at his friend’s shoulder. Basht rose from her bag and bit him on the wrist.

      ‘He is afraid,’ said the cat. ‘He is a fool. We must hurry. Already I feel the sea and land cry out. This mountain is going to explode soon.’

      ‘I won’t leave you,’ said Andros. ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘Away,’ said Gnathos. ‘The Ephors are already gone, into the tunnel, en route to Shambala in the Mother Mountains. The others are packing up and climbing to the Highest so that the portal can open. When it does, this part of the city will be destroyed. So I came down here to take a grav-sled. The cats and I can ride out the wave. I know a cave we can stay in until we can find refuge. And I had always thought you would come too, my Andros,’ he said sadly. ‘I thought you would come with me, to escape, to enjoy music, to be able to love each other apart from three stolen kisses. To be able to dance. To have a future where eyes don’t watch our every move, where science doesn’t rule. We might even be able to laugh, even though an Atlantean never laughs, once we get away.’

      ‘I would!’ cried Andros. ‘I will!’

      ‘Basht doesn’t believe you,’ said Gnathos. Andros dropped to his knees, resting his head on his friend’s belt. Gnathos’ free hand came down to touch his hair.

      ‘She’s a cat. They’re suspicious. Let me come too! I ... I.’ The long censored words would not come to his lips. He could not speak. But Basht pricked up her ears.

      ‘He loves you!’ she said, surprised. ‘If that is settled, can we go now?’

      The grav-sled had been a good choice. It carried a lot of goods – Gnathos had evidently sacked and looted the deserted parts of the city – and it moved fast and very close to the waves. It was easy to see the high-prowed Antlantean ships, sailing under power towards Hellas.

      ‘We’re not going that way?’ asked Andros. Still afraid, he had snuggled up almost against his friend before the liquid screen, watching the Atlanteans sail at right angles.

      ‘We’re going north,’ said Gnathos. Andros felt that he still did not trust him. Curled up with her mate on Gnathos’ best bed-cover, Basht yawned, and he felt the yawn in his mind and yawned in reflex.

      ‘I told him you loved him,’ she said. ‘He knows. Kiss him. You are disturbing my rest, and my kittens are due soon. I need my sleep.’

      Instantly, a strong cramp made Andros bend double, clutching his belly. The conditioning against this behaviour had been very strong. He fought down a wave of nausea. Instead of replying, Andros kissed the side of Gnathos’ throat, very gently, little butterfly kisses, which tickled. The heavens did not fall. The Ephors did not appear. No robot hands dragged him out of the embrace of his only friend. The sickness receded, the cramp faded. It appeared that, once broken, the terror reactions would not return.

      Gnathos turned his head and took Andros’ mouth with his own and kissed him fiercely, deeply, biting into his bottom lip. Then he disengaged and looked into the liquid screen. Andros saw his beautiful green eyes widen.

      ‘We’re away!’ he announced. ‘Look back at the mountain!’

      All his life Andros had known the shape of that mountain, the city of Atlantis, and now it was covered in a bright silver mist, as though a cloud had come down. The portal had opened. The populace were leaving.

      ‘Goodbye, Ephors,’ he breathed. ‘Goodbye, Practicality Lessons and beatings. Farewell, Atlantean Deportment and Philosophy and Calm and Stillness. And Forced Learning and Behaviour Modification. They never managed to make me want anyone else, you know, Gnathos.’

      ‘Or me, you,’ breathed Gnathos.

      They kissed until they were afire. Neither had been allotted a partner, so they had not participated in the State Sanctioned Joining once a month of the married Atlanteans. The coupling of men with men was punishable by death, as pollutants in the carefully balanced gene pool. They had no guide but desire. They fumbled, stroked, grabbed, and sighed, and at one point Gnathos could feel the amusement of both cats, colouring the roaring red fog in his head that made him try to get closer, closer!

      Later they lay in a puddle of garments, sticky and exhausted, and Andros stretched out a hand to see if he was, actually, glowing. Both he and his lover were.

      They reached the cave high in the Ebruz Mountains a day before the Great Wave. It was comfortable. Gnathos had visited it before. It was more of a cache than a home, but the cats appreciated the sanitary facilities and the small planetary motion generator kept the cave toasty warm. The grav-sled slid into its prepared place and dropped into re-charge.

      They spent the whole day eating, sleeping, and learning how to make love. Gnathos had bought a small pipe from a fisherman, and they both tried to compose tunes.

      In the middle of the second night, Andros saw a strange light, and woke the others. Together, men and cats sat and watched the red flame scorching the clouds, the bombs of pumice exploding in the air, all so far away as to make the destruction of the city no taller than a candle flame.

      Then they went back to sleep. Because the water would be coming soon. They heard it first as a rumble in the ground, which disturbed the cats. Basht and her mate washed furiously, trying to block out the subsonics, until each cat came to a human and compelled them to put their hands over their sensitive ears.

      Then there was a crash which shook the mountains end to end and sounded like the end of the planet.

      ‘The Nile must be at full,’ commented Gnathos, stroking Andros and Basht at the same time. ‘Outgoing tide crashing into incoming Great Wave. The water’s already moving up. By morning we’ll be in the midst of an ocean.’

      ‘It will go down again?’ asked Andros.

      ‘Yes, of course, in most places. This is all our fault, you know. The stadia covered in salt water that will not bear next year. The drowned people and animals. We were careless of their lives.’

      ‘You