“In the beginning, men spoke one language. But understood one another too much. There were endless fallings out. Even more dangerous, though, were the moments when they reached a sudden agreement. Those were the times when they were most likely to disturb the Anunnaki. Just the noise they made had once led to the Flood. Without Ea’s help they would have been wiped out. Now, having achieved an improbable unity, they were convinced they could do everything, which of course was intolerable to those looking down from above.

“Once again, life was in danger of coming to an abrupt end. Then Ea contrived another of his unresolved riddles: he multiplied the tongues of men. At first bewilderment and confusion ran riot. Then people began to split up and withdraw into different regions, well protected from one another. A dim veil came down on each of these places. But the veil could be torn open by curiosity and study. The Black Heads weren’t sure whether they were more or less happy than before. They kept their eyes mainly on whatever was close to them, wanting to possess it forever. Gradually they came to forget the time when they had all spoken the same language. And the Anunnaki no longer looked on them with suspicion. Ea watched over it all in silence.”

“How can you recognize a god?” Sindbad asked.

“All the gods you have encountered, or will encounter, anywhere, at the farthest edge of whatever sea, are made of the same substance. There is a great gleaming tangle rolling over and over and constantly shedding bits of itself. And those bits are other gleaming tangles that go on rolling over and shedding other smaller bits, which again are gleaming tangles. This is the life of the gods,” said Utnapishtim.

“Here is a question I have never really fathomed: whether the Anunnaki forgot about me, here in Dilmun, sometime before being forgotten themselves; or whether they left me here with a precise role in mind, the role I have in relation to you and will very likely never have again: as one who passes on their stories. If that’s not the case, how can we explain why Ea, who was always such a shrewd strategist, should have taken me away from the Flood survivors to bring me here to empty, spellbound Dilmun.

“I’ll confess that for a long time I tried not to think of the person who would arrive here one day, tossed up by the waves, or stepping out of a magnificent ship. But I didn’t always succeed. I imagined, for example, someone who would listen to my stories attentively, skeptically. Then look at me as if I were a crazy, dangerous old man. Didn’t the legends speak of a deadly Old Man of the Sea?

“Instead you arrived, Sindbad, curious, childish, clear-sighted, cheeky: the perfect vessel to receive the stories entrusted to me.”

“The Black Heads worshipped the Anunnaki. And the Anunnaki worshipped the Tablet of Destinies. They were devotees of necessity, stiff, with staring eyes, thick calves, frizzy hair, cone-shaped caps, bow in hand. There was no ease or flow in their movements. Though all had their origin in Ea, who reigned over the waters. I realized this quite late, when Ea allowed me, from time to time, to wander in other lands, far beyond the two rivers, like some strange vagabond. Rather as Harun al-Rashid does in Baghdad. Had they found me out, they would have supposed I was a Chaldean con man.”