The screams came sooner than Neil had expected.
The cries were desperate and chilling. Not human. He thought he heard a child wailing. Not human. Then suddenly, the morning was alive with smoke that fingered its way toward the front of the cave and rose up into the air. With a flash of inspiration, the final hunter broke his oil across the tendrilled vines that grew along the lip of the entrance, igniting them in a strip of fire. There was no way out.
Neil shuddered, safe in his hiding place. Charat's hunters had been swallowed by the black night and were on their way home as they had been instructed. Neil didn't want any of them killed tonight, especially the boy. It was unnecessary. Neil felt a warm breath on his neck and spun around. Charat had stayed to watch too. The flickering of distant flames caught the hunter’s face. He was smiling in the dark.
The screams grew louder. So far, not a single beast had found his way out.
Silhouettes raced within the dark cave with bright red fire licking at their backs. Neil heard the sharp sizzle of thrown water and a gap appeared in the flames. The Ebu Gogo spilled out of the cave mouth, tumbling and sliding down the green descent. Some were pushed. Others threw themselves down the hillside. They cried out as they fell, but Neil knew such injuries would be minor. Disappointing. There were less escaping than Neil had expected and he wondered how many more were caught in the back of the cave. There was no sign of the redhead.
The burning strip roared and snaked its way back along the entrance, cutting their escape route. A small group threw themselves forward and beat the flames with mats, forcing it back from one edge. A line of them formed through the gap, like a trail of ants from the cave to the forest. They threw small objects from one to the next. Neil was almost impressed at their strength. Those closest to the flames stumbled and fell. The smoke was choking them. Still they arose again and again, tossing their valuables along the line and coughing the black air that billowed around them. Neil strained to see what could be so worth saving. One of the objects moved. A tiny arm flailed, grasping for stability.
Neil averted his gaze, sickened. I need that amulet. He raked his hands through his hair. For the good of many…. Neil pulled his lighter from his pocket, forcing the whorls of his thumb into the engraving on the back. For Benjamin. But he couldn't block out the screams. Strangled cries battered the forest. He opened his eyes to find Charat watching him with a look of dark humour. The hunter raised an eyebrow at Neil's weakness. He's right. What did I expect? This was the plan all along. Charat was the last person that Neil could trust with his own weakness. The man was ambitious and Neil was only an ally while he had something to offer. Neil pulled himself straight and cleared his throat. Charat narrowed his eyes, unconvinced, but turned back to the spectacle.
Still no sign of the redhead. Maybe she's already dead. Neil’s own eyes were watering and his throat was parched. He couldn't help but choke on the putrid air.
With a spray of sparks, the hillside caught light. The fire ripped downhill, chasing the fleeing Ebu Gogo into the forest. Too many, god damn it.
Neil and Charat were well hidden. In the chaos, they wouldn't be seen. The break of fire that had been beaten down was quickly reclaiming its territory. Behind the flaming entrance, shadows shifted and fell. It seemed that all those who could escape already had, and those who remained would die. Terrified screams echoed from the cave mouth from those trapped on the other side. She's as good as gone.
In a blur of motion, a tall figure ran from the mouth of the cave. She was bent and Neil realised that two Ebu Gogo were clutching at her back and chest. She raced through the licking flames and dumped her cargo on the unclaimed side of the hill, then fell forward with wracking breaths. More screams assaulted the night followed by deafening thuds as ancient stalactites desiccated and broke from the ceiling. Chunks of limestone spilled over the fiery cave mouth and pummelled the undergrowth as they crashed into darkness. Without hesitation, the woman sprinted back to the cave, leaping over the trail of flames so close to closing the entrance once more. Inside, the great cave yawned orange and red like the gates of hell itself.
Once more, the woman appeared behind the line of fire, a struggling body in her arms and another clinging to her back. She raced through the gap, the flames licking her waist. No doubt the Ebu Gogo would have been consumed by flames of the same height. The one on her back fell away as she lay the other down. A handful of others grabbed at the second one, but it was clawing its way back toward the cave, refusing to be led to safety. The redhead screamed and pushed it hard into the arms of the others. It collapsed on the ground in a fit of emotion. Neil's heart missed a beat. She's outside the cave. She's safe when I need her dead. I need her dead! His moment of weakness was all but forgotten. His chest rose with fury and he stepped forward. I'll kill her myself! Neil was blind to anything but his desperation. Blind even to the danger of appearing exposed and outnumbered to his now very alert enemy. A swift arm caught him across the chest. Charat grunted and nodded toward the hillside.
The redhead was facing the inferno once more, stock still. Suddenly, she ran, her feet barely skimming the burning earth. She leapt high into the flames. The undergrowth was burning ever closer to their hide out. Neil was forced backward from the billowing smoke. He smothered his face with his shirt, overwhelmed by the radiant heat. Charat pulled insistently at his arm. He seemed confident that their mission was complete. They would come later to claim their reward.
“Not yet!” Neil tore away, turning back to the cave. Charat may have his reward – the Ebu Gogo had lost their home. Many would be dead. But Neil yet needed his own reward. He wanted to be sure the woman was dead too. That the amulet would be his when he returned in daylight.
Neil willed her dead, his eyes squeezed shut. I need that amulet. Benjamin. Life. Power. Home. The words became a chant. Neil smeared the perspiration from his face and stared again desperately into the smoke. You have to die! He could taste the acrid victory in his mouth. Power. He could smell his triumphant return to the modern world in the carbon monoxide that filled his lungs. Home.
“No!”
Out of the depths of hell, she raced one last time, breaking over the fiery serpent that now guarded it fully. Wails of desperate relief greeted the woman as she delivered her final treasure to the one collapsed on the ground. The shrill cry of a newborn pierced the air as the dawn sun finally cracked brilliant gold against the midnight blue horizon.
Charat's rough hands grabbed his shirt. As Neil felt himself pulled away, a single, desolate thought broke him.
I failed.
“The electromagnetic fields are increasing daily. Dimi was right.” Orrin poured over the data he had risked his friendship for. True to his word, Dimitri had uploaded the encrypted folder of data to an untraceable international server, and Orrin now sat analysing each file in turn.
Dale peered intently over his shoulder. “Geez, it’s so obvious now, I can’t understand why we didn’t see this before.”
“Because we didn’t know what we were looking for,” Orrin replied. “Look here, when I track the electromagnetic fluctuation from the Clavious Crater onto a lunar calendar, the energy spike clearly peaked at the last full moon. That date corresponds exactly with the date that Ivy disappeared. There are fifteen similar hotspots of increased activity across the globe but it peaked most strongly at these two sites. Almost off the scale. Here, at Melbourne University and also at these geographical coordinates. Dale, find out where this is; 8° 37' 12.4572” South, 121° 4' 1.7004” East.”
Darting to his computer, Dale plugged the coordinates into his Global Positioning Software. “Okay, there's no landmark specified, but you’re looking north, north-west of the village of Ruteng in Flores, Indonesia.”
Orrin let his trapped breath escape all at once. “Liang Bua Cave, precisely. And the date of the full moon corresponds exactly with the energy surge and the peak coming from the Clavious crater.” Orrin smiled despite the implications of what he said. For the
first time since Ivy had disappeared, he felt vindicated. “We’re finding the logic beneath the chaos - it’s finally happening.”
Dale smiled hesitantly.
Orrin addressed Phil, who watched them critically from behind his own computer monitor. “Okay, so if the environmental variables were rising in accordance with the waxing moon and then peaked with the full moon, we should be seeing them decrease with the waning moon accordingly.”
“That’s exactly what we’re seeing, or at least what we were seeing for the past two weeks.” Phil said. He flicked the stream of data onto the large display screen above his desk. “The variables are still changing, apparently now rising again with the waxing new moon. I predict that by the coming full moon, they’ll be at the same levels as they were with that energy peak.”
Dale spoke softly. “So in just over a week the full moon will be back, of course, and it looks like the electromagnetic fluctuations will peak again to correspond with them. But we still don’t know what caused the actual time shift. If it was only the trifecta of these three energy fields, Liang Bua, the Clavious Crater and the university, then you and I should have been taken too, shouldn’t we? We were both in the lab before it happened, and all of these variables co-existed at the time. Nothing happened to us. So why her?”
Orrin rubbed his eyes, dislodging his black-framed reading glasses. “That’s the missing piece of the puzzle. The catalyst, so to speak. Something set off the crash, but I’ll damned if I can figure out what it is.”
Turning from his screen, Phil’s eyebrow rose. “Not that I’m saying this will work, but for the sake of continuing my personal entertainment here, I'll get the systems back exactly as they were for the last full moon. But whatever this supposed catalyst is,” Phil slapped his hand on the edge of his desk, “you’ve got one week to isolate it. Good luck with that.” The screen went blank as he switched off his monitor.
“Aah, Phil, your eternal optimism delights me,” Orrin grinned. “At least we know the pattern now. I’ll find the catalyst; I won’t sleep until I do. It’s probably staring me right in the face.”
Phil got up, stretching, and folded his laptop. “Then I feel sorry for it, dude. You need some serious beauty sleep.” He walked to the door. “I’m going home; I've had enough of this damn cello on repeat.”
“Is that right?” said Orrin. With the progress they'd made, Phil’s mocking couldn't dent his good mood. But perhaps he had played Ivy's Le Cygne one too many times. Since he'd rediscovered the recording, Orrin had found his efforts more focused and determined while listening to her. The music was like a connection between them across time, perhaps the only one that he would ever have. Still, he flicked to his classical playlist instead and laughed in the face of Phil's groan.
“What's up, Chan? Too much culture for you?” Orrin teased.
“Too much age for me, old man.”
“Then you're forgetting your bread and butter,” Orrin grinned. “Music is physics. The mathematical equations that govern the vibrations on those cello strings are the same ones that underpin our universe - simple harmonic motions. Do you need a refresher, lad?”
Phil snorted in laughter. “O, I can officially say you're a man in love.” He shook his head with a smile. “Thanks for the insight, but I'll leave you with your rocks,” he nodded at Ivy's amulet, sitting on the desk next to Orrin, “and your music. I need some zzz’s. I’ll be back later.”
Phil turned away but was stopped short. Jayne scowled and stepped out of his way.
“Phil,” she greeted coldly.
“Jayne,” Phil replied smoothly and strutted from the room.
“I’ve got something for you.” Jayne walked directly to Orrin and handed him two large sheets of paper. On each was a coloured photocopy. The shapes were faded and mottled, barely discernable and Orrin rotated them, trying to find the correct way to view them.
“What are they?” Orrin asked.
“Cave paintings.” Jayne nodded toward the table and sat herself down, placing the photographs between them. “Most of my undergraduate research focused on prehistoric cave paintings. I transferred to residue analysis because the opportunity came up with Professor Ellery. But these,” she sucked in her breath, clearly enthralled, “these are what it’s all about.”
“Okay.” As uninspiring as the paintings seemed, Orrin waited for an explanation.
“I’ve been looking into the archaeological research done for Homo floresiensis in its native environment,” Jayne continued. “There isn’t a lot of information to be honest, and what little there is hasn’t been widely promoted. Perhaps scientists are trying to keep their humanity as unrecognisable as possible?” Jayne frowned. “Anyway, I happened across these cave paintings in an old journal. They were attributed to prehistoric sapiens, but I think they’ve got it wrong. Let’s start with this one; I think you’ll recognise the shape.”
Orrin studied the large image Jayne had pushed toward him. Pale smudges seemed randomly placed on a grey rock wall. Orrin guessed the paint was originally golden in colour, but now only hints remained, the majority faded to almost white.
“Sorry, I don’t see it. What am I looking at?”
Jayne grabbed a pen and began tracing over the image. The five smudges were suddenly familiar.
“It’s the Southern Cross.” Orrin exclaimed. “You think the hobbits did this painting? How old is it?”
“About fifty thousand years,” said Jayne. “The same radio carbon date as the amulet and river stone. But there’s more.” With the tip of the pen, she isolated five more marks, further from the constellation on the rock and so faint, they were easily overlooked. Two complete filled circles with the shell of an empty circle between them and two vertical semi-circles, opposing each other in direction and spaced evenly between the others. The entire group arced around Alpha Centuri and its four stars.
“Shite! Hold on a minute.” Orrin dashed over to his computer. “Stellar mapping software - I use it for astronomical surveys,” he explained. He input the dates of the energy transference and the black monitor littered with stars. “Look, Jayne. This is the last full moon. See the position of the Southern Cross in relation to the moon…. Now follow the moon to its half crescent waning position… new moon… waxing crescent…Oh my god, it’s perfectly aligned.”
Jayne watched the screen, her mouth agape. “I thought it was a reference to their position in Flores - a stellar map, but it's –”
“A calendar!” Orrin finished for her. “A fifty-thousand-year old calendar. This map gives the relative positions of the full moon and Southern Cross the night Ivy was taken – and look,” he pointed to the final darkened orb, “the next full moon! The full moon that we will see in one week, right here, when the energy fields will peak again.” Orrin walked back to the photographs on the table, astonished. “They predicted when the time shift was going to occur. Or recorded it after it happened.”
“There’s more.” Jayne pulled a second photograph from under the first and laid it on top. Again the faded ochre smudges made little sense to Orrin, although this time he could discern that multiple colours had been used. “This was from the same shelter,” Jayne said, “further west and quite low to the ground. It’s a little harder to make out.” Once again she used the black pen to highlight what Orrin couldn’t see. Quickly the shapes became obvious, and once complete, Orrin was mute with the implications.
It was a simple composition, almost juvenile. A black creature with a single arched line representing the body, long arms and a heart shaped face. The animal was joined at one hand to a smaller figure, on a simple crossed body in dark umber. Beside them both, a white figure, tall and simply shaped with a hint of face. Now faded almost to nothing, bright red ochre had once crowned its head.
Orrin stared. He couldn’t breathe.
“It’s her,” he said.
“What does it mean?” Jayne whispered.
“I don’t know.”
This time, the knowledge
that he was right, truly right, left Orrin in a cold sweat. Ivy had touched this place, fifty thousand years ago, with them.
And Kyah. The black shape with rounded shoulders and a hunched back, curling under its rump. The black lines were understated, but somehow brought the cold stone to life. Most strange perhaps, was the hint of its hand connection to the diminutive third figure. Was it deliberate? Was the other figure one of them? A Homo floresiensis?
But she, Ivy, stole back his attention. Orrin closed his eyes and flaming red ochre, as it once was, burned beneath his eyelids, haunting him. Orrin saw her there, in those weathered rubs of clay on rock.
The flyaway hair, the pale face. The emerald eyes that hid from him and scorched him all at once.
These paintings told a story. Orrin traced the faded constellation with his fingertips, memorising it.
“I’m sorry, Orrin,” Jayne said quietly. “I suppose it’s only useful if you can figure it out.”
Orrin looked up at her. He’d forgotten she was there. He felt lost. “I'll figure it out,” he said.
Jayne shuffled uncomfortably. “I have stuff to do, um, phytoliths need classifying…” Jayne walked to the door leaving the photographs on the table. She hesitated. “I wish I could help more,” she said.
“You’re helping more than you know,” Orrin smiled.
Jayne sighed and turned to leave.
“I can help, not that anyone cares.” Dale’s voice rose, uncharacteristically bitter. Jayne spun back, surprised. It was clear that in her enthusiasm to show Orrin the photographs, she hadn't even noticed him. Dale curled his shoulders behind the computer monitor, looking resentful and strangely young.
“Oh, Dave, I’m so sorry!” Jayne said.
“Dale.”
“Of course. Dale.” Jayne looked abashed.
“How?” Orrin asked, frowning.
“Well, it seemed fairly clear you didn’t want my input,” Dale said, resentfully, “so while you were talking, I decided to look more into the fifteen geographical hotspots that peaked with the energy mutations.”
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