Human

by Hayley Camille

  Orrin turned slowly and pushed away from the crowd.

  It has to be a mistake. But he knew it wasn’t. His own data confirmed the devastating decay of the magnetosphere. Radiation and melting ice caps were inevitable. Droughts and fires as well. But why now, when it wasn’t before? Human origin, she’d said. But what did we do?

  The red and white flag fluttered above him at the entrance. Two armed guards checked him by the door. The idea that Ivy might be working independently on the archaeological site was really pushing it. Still, he had hope, even if it was faintest of glimmers.

  The softly spoken woman at the desk listened patiently to his plea. My friend is missing. I’m sure she was in Indonesia most recently; if I could just confirm her VISA application… to be sure I’m looking for her in the right place…

  “Are you the next of kin?”

  “No - sort of. Yes– yes, I am. I’m the only one who seems to care, if that counts. I’m not sure about her immediate family, or where her parents even are.” As the questions came, Orrin realized how little he really knew of Ivy.

  “The Australian police handle these matters, sir; if your friend is missing you should file a report with them,” the woman said.

  Please.

  Despite the spectacle outside, the office was near empty and the administration clerk finally gave in.

  “Ivy Carter? I see no tourist visa on record for anyone with that name. If your friend travelled through an international airport, she would have arrived at Soekarno Hatta airport in Jakarta, or alternatively at Ngurah Rai airport in Bali. I see nothing here suggesting a person by her name was travelling to either.” She studied her database. “No tourist card, no visa or passport checks.”

  “She was studying,” Orrin offered, “on an archaeological dig.”

  “A research student? There’s a separate process for work and research travel. Your friend would have submitted a formal letter and quite a comprehensive research proposal to obtain access on a limited stay visa. One moment please, sir.” The keyboard clicked like a metronome. “I’m sorry, nothing again.” Her dark eyes showed genuine concern. “Perhaps your friend did not reach Indonesia at all? You should file a police report. They can perform a more thorough search.”

  Orrin rubbed his fingertips under his glasses. Another wall.

  “The thing is ma’am, I know Ivy was there,” Orrin pleaded. “She must have been. She was working on the island of Flores, in a cave. Liang Bua cave.”

  “Flores?” she said, frowning. “Well, that complicates things a little. Flores has heavy mining infrastructure, so most visitors arrive via sea.” Her words softened as she took in Orrin’s crumbling composure. “Hypothetically though, assuming your friend did have a visa…” she stressed her words to make it clear she was overstepping her role. “There are only two airstrips and two seaports she could have arrived at providing visa facilities, one on each end of the island, East Nusa Tengarra and West Nusa Tengarra.”

  “How would I know if she arrived?”

  The woman’s eyes were thoughtful as she ran her fingertips across the coral coloured scarf that kept her hair and neck hidden from view. She lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “Well, I suppose I could make some calls. Hypothetically, of course.”

  One by one, she rang the air strips and ports of Maumere and Labuan Bajo, and after a brief pause searching through records, each returned the same response. There is no visitor in Flores by that name.

  Softly hanging up the phone, she offered Orrin a sympathetic smile. “I am very sorry sir; I can’t help you anymore. If you put in an official report, they may be able to request a search of the island.” She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “But – well, I do feel obligated to tell you sir, Flores is one of the most remote and uninhabitable areas of the archipelago. Past mining has been extensive and its volcanic activity has been… severe. The island is considered very dangerous, especially to a person unequipped for such a place. If your friend really has gone missing there… if she is lost…”

  Please, God, don’t say it. With a sinking heart Orrin turned to leave. “I understand. Thank you, you’ve been – very helpful. I appreciate your time.”

  Defeat tugged at his heart. Ivy never went to Flores. So how did the amulet get there?

  Orrin left. He skirted the edge of the lawn with his eyes to the ground, unable to shoulder the burden of grief in the chained men’s eyes again.

  As he sank into his car seat, his mobile rang.

  “Dale?”

  “Yeah, it’s me,” came the reply.

  “Any use?” Orrin asked, hopefully.

  “Sorry man, they’ve never heard of her either.”

  “Right.”

  There was an awkward silence. “Um, Orrin…?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s just – I’m worried about you.”

  Orrin gritted his jaw. Then believe me. While Dale shot sideways glances at him all day in the lab, Phil was being downright condescending.

  “Well don’t, I’m grand,” Orrin snapped. “Or at least, I’m about to be.” The amulet was a clue, proof that Ivy had existed and Orrin knew he was sane after all. Frustrated, angry, obsessed perhaps – but still sane. “I saw Ivy’s lab partner this morning, the one I told you about.”

  “She remembers Ivy now?” Dale sounded relieved.

  “Not quite.” Silence. “But she has Ivy’s amulet,” Orrin added. “The one she wore on the silver chain I found in the lab. It’s hers, unequivocally. It has the same engravings, her initials, everything.”

  “So why does she have-” Dale began.

  “That’s the part I’m trying to figure out. Jayne got it from the dig site in Flores. That’s why I needed you to check it out, just in case she was over there now. I thought maybe, if she was working on site and she dropped it…” His voice trailed off.

  “I gave them her name just like you asked, Orrin. They’ve never heard of her before, the dig supervisor said she wasn’t working with them, never has.” Dale sounded reluctant to continue.

  “Right.” Right. Orrin pushed away the defeat.

  “Did you try the consulate?” asked Dale.

  “Yeah.”

  “And?”

  Orrin dropped his head, pushing the heel of his hand into his forehead. “There are other ways to get into Flores. Maybe she was working independently.”

  “But she’d need - “

  “She was there!” Orrin said. “In Flores, at Liang Bua cave. I’m sure of it!”

  Dale sighed. “Okay. Let me know if there is anything else I can do.”

  “I’ll see you later,” said Orrin. As an afterthought, he added, “Thanks Dale.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  Neil carefully triangulated river stones around the edge of the hole. He laid a thick piece of bark across the opening, resting on the stones. The windows underneath suggested there was just enough room for an unsuspecting creature searching for a place to hide. A rat could be tasty. The inside walls of the hole sloped backwards, preventing his prey from escape. Leaving it, he checked another he’d dug yesterday. It was filled with the cold sleeping body of a python. Neil cursed and left it. His gut churned in memory. No more snakes. The other two traps were still empty so he returned to his newest to wait.

  As luck would have it, he didn’t have to wait long. A hand-sized forest shrew with her caravan of young trailing mouth to tail scurried under the hollow. Gotcha. Neil lifted the bark ceiling, his sharpened stick poised. To his surprise, he was too late.

  The mother shrew already lay immobilised and twitching. Neil snapped his hand away from the trap. Moving from victim to victim, a downy back spider caught each of her young in turn, filling them with venom. Before Neil could utter the expletive on his lips, they were dead.

  His stomach rumbled but Neil sat back on his haunches in the dim light, considering. For once his thwarted meal did not upset him.

  A non-descript spider lurking in the wet leaves; a ne
urotoxin of nature… a single bite is all it would take. I don’t need her dead specifically, just incapacitated. Unconscious for long enough to get that stone and get away unseen…and unfollowed. It's not murder. It's not. For a long time, he sat, all thoughts of hunger forgotten. Neil spun his lighter slowly. If I don't do it, I'll die out here. Benjamin will die. The stone is wasted on her, instead of using it; she's sitting around drawing in the dirt. God, the things I could do with that stone. It's self-preservation, really. It's not murder. Besides, I won’t be sticking around to watch. Survival of the fittest.

  Neil’s plan formed meticulously, played out in his head like film noir. He couldn’t deal with the redhead directly; her personal guard of well-armed monkeys saw to that. Resentfully, he had accepted his limitations. 'He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot, will be victorious,' Neil reminded himself. He was outnumbered one hundred to one, out weaponed by far - he wouldn’t stand a chance. He needed to get her on her own. Get her while she was vulnerable, without the protection of those damned miscreants that watched her every move. Just one bite. That's all it’ll take.

  He tasted the potentiality of his success. I’ll control the energy field, study it, and manipulate it. There’ll be enough energy to feed an entire city. Unlimited resources. The future of industry at my feet. Politicians, utilities. The energy crisis averted. Through me.

  His memory brought forth his son. For once, he didn't push the thought away. Benjamin was half there, weak, closer to death. Neil’s resentment grew. And time … time itself in my hands. There’s a bigger picture here. I can do it alone, hide the amulet - they don't need to know how. They would thank me for saving the masses from their miserable plight. What greater reward is there, than the gratitude of an entire civilisation? A hard smile crept slowly to Neil’s lips. Many rewards, no doubt. So I let one woman die, an accident really - this is a damned jungle after all. And what difference does one death make to a world of immeasurable benefits? Kill one to save many. Kill her to save myself…

  Long and hard he schemed, as the spider wove her coffins.

  As the dawn sun broke the canopy, Neil was waiting. Not stretched in his usual discomfort in the spiky hollow, but hidden, with his back pressed to a tree on the far side of the river. Their side. Minutes felt like hours. She was late. He knew he didn’t have much time. If the redhead took too long bathing they would come looking for her; the pregnant one, the old man or the scarred hunter. A biting chill quickened his senses and he wondered if he had chosen the one morning she was not going to show. Rustle. Snap. Neil quietly exhaled, releasing the tension from his lungs. It's not murder.

  The redhead stepped out of the trees and crossed the narrow river bank. The rocky ledge she always swam from curved the river at its closest point to the trees, an advantage he planned to make good use of. Hidden only meters away, he watched her through foliage, cradling the hollowed dalunut shell in his hands. It's self-preservation.

  The redhead dropped a handful of fruit onto the grass. She lay a soapy bone plate on the flattest rock and stretched her arms towards the sky, breathing deeply. Her body was pale and lithe and he realised he would actually miss watching her. Pity it came to this. Neil tried to calm the rush of adrenaline that gripped him as the woman shook her red hair out of a long plait and dropped her hide skirt and stained singlet onto the grass. She stepped into the water, shivering and sinking low. She pulled her underwear off and washed it, leaving it on the stone to dry, rubbing the remainder of the soapy pulp across her body and into her hair. A bloody waste really. Languidly, she pushed off from the bank, red ribbons of hair trailing on the water’s surface.

  Neil sprung to his feet. Making sure she was still swimming toward the opposite bank, he ducked the few paces left toward her clothes. Immeasurable benefits, he recited. Kill one to save many. With steady hands Neil pulled a large wad of compacted grass from the opening of the Dalunut. He pulled the hide skirt towards him, tipping the imprisoned spider onto its folds. With quick fingers, he trapped it again under layers of fabric. Her fingers would find it first. He backed to the safety of shadows.

  The minutes ticked by. Neil held his jaw in his hand, breathing deeply. A steely determination crept into his heart and radiated, outwards through his veins. It was almost too simple. Once he had the stone he could walk away, no one would follow; no one even knew he was there. He fingered the shape of the sharpened stone blade in his pocket. Just in case it takes too long.

  Kill her to save myself… Neil almost relaxed as she spun in the water, swimming back toward the bank. She pulled on her underwear, squeezing water from her now dark hair. Her face lit up as she stepped out of the water. Her porcelain skin was covered in goose-flesh and her eyes looked unnaturally bright.

  “Hello there,” she said, taking a step toward her clothes. She crouched, reaching out her hand. “I was hoping you'd be here.”

  Neil's breath shuddered at the sound of her voice, so close and clear. He stiffened his neck against the rising urge to come forward. I’m not a coward. It's her or me. He sank into the shadow, resentful of the feeling. No one has to know.

  Pick up the clothes. He willed for the end of it. The part where he could walk away and prove them wrong.

  Instead she picked up a small piece of fruit, rolling it across the grass. The oversized rat appeared from its hollow and darted across the grass to her. It took the round fruit, nibbling. She rolled it another one, closer to her. Then another. Pick up the god damned clothes. Instead, again she offered more fruit, this time from her outstretched hand. The vermin crept forward inch by inch and devoured each morsel it was offered until there were none left. She petted its fur.

  “Sorry little one, all gone,” she said. “I’ll bring more tomorrow.”

  No. You won't.

  Still crouching on the grass, the redhead’s fingertips sought her clothes. She pushed her hand under, scooping the fabric up to her chest, making to stand. Neil caught his breath as a black shadow passed beneath her fingers. Like lightning the rat pounced forward. The woman fell sprawling back onto the grass.

  “What the-?” the redhead laughed.

  The rat snatched the spider in nimble fingers, turning and crunching it between oversized hypsodont teeth, its venom given no chance to save it. Predator turned prey.

  Fuck! Steel cold anger pricked at the pores in Neil’s skin. He pushed his jaws together, grinding his fury into silence. The redhead kept laughing, oblivious to her narrow escape.

  “Still hungry, hey?” she said aloud. “Sorry sweetie, I didn’t mean to steal your breakfast.” She pulled herself up from the grass, leaving the rat to finish its meal. Wrapping her hide skirt around her waist and singlet over her head, she bent one last time to smooth its fur. “Till tomorrow, little one. You be good.” The redhead stepped lightly back into the forest and disappeared, very much alive.

  Seething, Neil stepped out onto the grass.

  “You stupid little bastard.” His sharpened stick pierced the marsupial’s neck. It hung twitching from the shaft as Neil held it up to his face. “You just cost me a great deal, rat.” Neil’s voice was barely controlled. “You stupid, fucking ugly bastard. You know what you are now, huh? What you just made yourself? Dinner.”

  Leaves rustled behind him and Neil spun around. Fuck! His knees buckled to the ground. The chimp was behind him. Watching.

  Its thin lips were pulled tight and it stared, unflinching, straight into Neil’s eyes. His scalp crawled in fear. The animal was bigger than he’d expected. It looked strong. Its body was tense with arms and legs coiled like a spring ready to be released. Neil scrambled back, stumbling and falling against the tree.

  The beast didn’t move. It just stared menacingly, standing on two legs. It slowly opened its mouth drawing pale lips across its teeth. It's threatening me. Time slowed and Neil’s instincts pounded through him. It's just an animal. Fight it. Kill it now. He squeezed the rat tight, slowly pulling the stick from its corpse. The chimpanzee lifted its chin.
Its dark eyes bore into Neil’s own and he suddenly realised his entire morning’s actions had been witnessed by the animal.

  No! It’s just a fucking monkey. It doesn't know anything. Neil choked on his own lie. The intelligence in its eyes was more frightening than its bestiality. The animal was suddenly not looking at him, but more… into him. Almost like it knows… What I tried to do, how I failed. That I have to try again… I have to.

  Neil’s heart thundered in his ribcage. The rat was clenched against his shirt and a trickle of blood found its way down the valleys of his hand. It knows.

  Deliberately, the chimpanzee turned away. With one swift move, it was gone.

  In the dead of night, Ivy woke in a cold sweat. Muffled cries and whispers echoed through the cave and a strange low hum seemed to hang in the air. Ivy sat up and her eyes adjusted to the faint glow of coals flickering as figures moved in front of hearths. The cries became louder for a moment and then softened again under whispers. A disturbed child was hushed back to sleep nearby. Ivy pulled herself up from the sleeping mat and felt her way gingerly along the cave wall.

  “Shahn… Shahn.” Her whisper came louder than she intended in the dark. Xiou’s face appeared in front of her and Ivy crouched down with her amulet wrist extended. In the coal-light, Xiou’s scars looked frightening. If she hadn’t known the gentle heart that beat beneath them, she might have run.

  “Something’s wrong,” Ivy said. It wasn’t a question.

  Xiou looked hesitantly in the direction of the disturbance. “Shimma is giving birth,” he said.

  Ivy’s throat seemed to close over. Births were dangerous, now more than ever. Her senses heightened against the pitch dark and she realized the atmosphere was thick with collective anxiety. The shadow grip of the Slow Death was threatening them tonight. Miscarriages, stillborns and complications of childbirth were all too familiar - the hobbits’ future was being stolen with their most vulnerable.