“But granite is so difficult to work.”
Lugatum shrugged. “Not for them. The royal architects believe such stoneworkers may be useful when you reach the vault of heaven.”
Hillalum nodded. That could be true. Who knew for certain what they would need? “Have you seen them?”
“No, they are not here yet, but they are expected in a few days time. They may not arrive before the festival ends, though; then you Elamites will ascend alone.”
“You will accompany us, won't you?”
“Yes, but only for the first four days. Then we must turn back, while you lucky ones go on.”
“Why do you think us lucky?”
“I long to make the climb to the top. I once pulled with the higher crews, and reached a height of twelve days climb, but that is as high as I have ever gone. You will go far higher.” Lugatum smiled ruefully. “I envy you, that you will touch the vault of heaven.”
To touch the vault of heaven. To break it open with picks. Hillalum felt uneasy at the idea. “There is no cause for envy—” he began.
“Right,” said Nanni. “When we are finished, all men will touch the vault of heaven.”
The next morning, Hillalum went to see the tower. He stood in the giant courtyard surrounding it. There was a temple off to one side that would have been impressive if seen by itself, but it stood unnoticed beside the tower.
He could sense the utter solidity of it. According to all the tales, the tower was constructed to have a mighty strength that no ziggurat possessed; it was made of baked brick all the way through, when ordinary ziggurats were mere sun-dried mud brick, having baked brick only for the facing. The bricks were set in a bitumen mortar, which soaked into the fired clay, and hardened to form a bond as strong as the bricks themselves.
The tower's base resembled the first two plafforms of an ordinary ziggurat. There stood a giant square platform some two hundred cubits on a side and forty cubits high, with a triple staircase against its south face. Stacked upon that first platform was another level, a smaller platform reached only by the central stair. It was atop the second platform that the tower itself began.
It was sixty cubits on a side and rose like a square pillar that bore the weight of heaven. Around it wound a gently inclined ramp, cut into the side, that banded the tower like the leather strip wrapped around the handle of a whip. No; upon looking again, Hillalum saw that there were two ramps, and they were intertwined. The outer edge of each ramp was studded with pillars, not thick but broad, to provide some shade behind them. In running his gaze up the tower, he saw alternating bands-ramp, brick, ramp, brick-until they could no longer be distinguished. And still the tower rose up and up, farther than the eye could see; Hillalum blinked, and squinted, and grew dizzy. He stumbled backward a couple steps and turned away with a shudder.
Hillalum thought of the story told to him in childhood, the tale following that of the Deluge. It told of how men had once again populated all the corners of the earth, inhabiting more lands than they ever had before. How men had sailed to the edges of the world and seen the ocean falling away into the mist to join the black waters of the Abyss far below. How men had thus realized the extent of the earth, and felt it to be small, and desired to see what lay beyond its borders, all the rest of Yahweh's creation. How they looked skyward and wondered about Yahweh's dwelling place, above the reservoirs that contained the waters of heaven. And how, many centuries ago, there began the construction of the tower, a pillar to heaven, a stair that men might ascended to see the works of Yahweh, and that Yahweh might descend to see the works of men.
It had always seemed inspiring to Hillalum, a tale of thousands of men toiling ceaselessly, but with joy, for they worked to know Yahweh better. He had been excited when the Babylonians came to Elam looking for miners. Yet now that he stood at the base of the tower, his senses rebelled, insisting that nothing should stand so high. He didn't feel as if he were on the earth when he looked up along the tower.
Should he climb such a thing?
On the morning of the climb, the second platform was covered edge to edge with stout two-wheeled carts arranged in rows.
Many were loaded with nothing but food of all sorts: sacks filled with barley, wheat, lentils, onions, dates, cucumbers, loaves of bread, dried fish. There were countless giant clay jars of water, date wine, beer, goat's milk, palm oil. Other carts were loaded with such goods as might be sold at a bazaar: bronze vessels, reed baskets, bolts of linen, wooden stools and tables. There was also a fattened ox and a goat that some priests were fitting with hoods so that they could not see to either side and would not be afraid on the climb. They would be sacrificed when they reached the top.
Then there were the carts loaded with the miners' picks and hammers, and the makings for a small forge. Their foreman had also ordered a number of carts be loaded with wood and sheaves of reeds.
Lugatum stood next to a cart, securing the ropes that held the wood. Hillalum walked up to him. “From where did this wood come? I saw no forests after we left Elam.”
“There is a forest of trees to the north, which was planted when the tower was begun. The cut timber is floated down the Euphrates.”
“You planted-an entire forest?”
“When they began the tower, the architects knew that far more wood would be needed to fuel the kilns than could be found on the plain, so they had a forest planted. There are crews who provide water and plant one new tree for each that is cut.”
Hillalum was astonished. “And that provides all the wood needed?”
“Most of it. Many other forests in the north have been cut as well, and their wood brought down the river.” He inspected the wheels of the cart, uncorked a leather bottle he carried, and poured a little oil between the wheel and axle.
Nanni walked over to them, staring at the streets of Babylon laid out before them. “I've never before been this high, that I can look down upon a city.”
“Nor have I,” said Hillalum, but Lugatum simply laughed. “Come along. All of the carts are ready.”
Soon all the men were paired up and matched with a cart. The men stood between the carts' two pull rods, which had rope loops for pulling. The carts pulled by the miners were mixed in with those of the regular pullers, to ensure that they would keep the proper pace. Lugatum and another puller had the cart right behind that of Hillalum and tower of Nanni.
“Remember,” said Lugatum, “stay about ten cubits behind the cart in front of you. The man on the right does all the pulling when you turn corners, and you'll switch every hour.”