Human

by Hayley Camille

  “I'm sorry to take up your time, Chancellor, I assure you, I will attend to all of my classes myself.”

  Reshma Thandi stopped at the door and turned back to face the room. An uncomfortable silence pressed on them all as she flicked her eyes in turn over Orrin, Phil and then Dale, who sat wide eyed behind his monitor. She glanced at each of the whiteboards, the still-broken tesla coil, the plasma screens and finally, the myriad of papers that Orrin had pinned to the wall. Finally, she spoke.

  “Doctor James. Let me be frank. I hired you because you’re one of the best. The work you’re doing to isolate the cause of our magnetospheric degradation is of upmost importance to this department. We’ve provided you with the resources and budget you require without question and trust me when I say, that is not our standard practice.” Chancellor Thandi gestured toward Phil, fidgeting by the door, and Dale, who shrank back under her gaze. “Nor is allowing such swift transfer and employment status for your research students. Perhaps I’ve been a little generous in your case regarding the autonomy of your work. That being so, I think it’s best if the board keeps a closer eye on your progress.”

  “I really don’t think that’s necessary -” Orrin began.

  “Well, I do. I expect a full report of your current status on my desk in two days.” She turned to leave, but stopped turning back to face him again.

  “I feel I should also inform you that I've been contacted recently by the Director of the CSIRO Division of Astronomy and Space,” she said. “Multiple times, in fact. They’re investigating suspicious electromagnetic activity detected within this locality. It seems NASA is involved, along with the Ministry of Energy and Resources. Now, I assume that as one of our senior researchers, you would not hesitate to disclose any details of your research that would affect this school’s safety or reputation?”

  Orrin's back stiffened and he swallowed audibly. NASA is involved? Of course they were. It was only a matter of time before the CSIRO traced the origins of the fluctuations to the university. He’d done it himself, with the help of Dimi’s stolen data, but he’d already known what he was looking for. How far behind me are they? Did Dimi lead them here? Orrin had the distinct feeling in his gut, that things were about to get a lot worse.

  “Sure, I mean, of course, Chancellor, I um, assure you I’m not involved,” said Orrin. He was all too familiar with the look of deep scepticism he received back.

  The Chancellor nodded slowly, poised to turn.

  “One more thing, Doctor James.”

  “Yes, Chancellor?”

  “Do something about your appearance. This is not a frat house.”

  Chancellor Reshma Thandi turned and walked away. Orrin closed the door behind her, confining himself to the tirade Phil would undoubtedly release.

  Orrin was home before midnight, for the first time in two weeks and the growing mess around him reflected his neglect. He was resolute to clean himself up after the Chancellor’s mandate. That job was vital. Without access to his lab, he was screwed. After a hot shower and shave, he scanned the internet for scraps of logic linking hobbits to the environmental devastation of his new reality. Nothing made sense.

  Orrin lifted his socked feet off the coffee table and set his open laptop in their place. He grabbed his empty scotch glass and stood up.

  Then he stopped, spellbound, between his lounge and the glass windows overlooking Port Phillip Bay.

  “Holy Mother…” he breathed. He stumbled forward, dropping the glass to the floor, no longer seeing the room around him. Orrin pressed his hands against the cool glass.

  Beautiful. Magnificent. Glorious. None of the words that raced through his head even came close to the vision before his eyes.

  The night sky was glowing. Vast curtains of neon green light filled the skyline, curling and folding in thick striations across the horizon. Above this layer, vibrant patches of pink, pure red, yellow and electric blue chased the night sky upwards. Where the colours met, violet and orange and white twisted the hues together like hazy ribbons. Aurora Australis. I shouldn’t be seeing this. I’m too close to the equator. Holy show, what have we done?

  Orrin knew that this stunning display of charged light could only be caused by the geomagnetic storms that were threatening the earth more each day. The magnetosphere was weakening, allowing massive flows of solar wind to bombard its defences. Hot coronal plasma was being pulled along earth’s magnetic field lines to the magneto tail behind it. The tail tore under the intense pressure of the flares, squeezing the solar wind back toward earth to feed the spectacular auroral display that Orrin now witnessed.

  The geomagnetic storms were rising. The earth’s atmosphere was saturated with trapped particles, enhancing the current and warping the earth’s magnetic field.

  If it weren’t for the unfathomable danger he knew it represented, Orrin would have shed tears of joy. In all his life, from his star-gazing enthrallment as a little boy to the endless hours he had clocked behind the lens of a telescope, he had never seen anything as perfect.

  The colours evolved and switched from one to another, constantly changing in a dance of electrons spiralling around the magnetic field lines that travelled the atmosphere down to the earth.

  It’s getting stronger.

  Orrin stood staring for a long time. He knew there was logic somewhere, buried beneath the dirt and riddles and empty spaces. Whatever was causing the magnetosphere to decay was somehow related to Ivy’s disappearance. Ivy’s disappearance was somehow related to Homo floresiensis. There was a link, but no matter how hard he sought it, it eluded him. It was infuriating.

  The storms were getting worse. Orrin knew it, not only from his own calculations, but from the blatant indication now illuminating the Melbourne sky.

  It’s only a matter of time… GPS signals will go - navigation, oil drilling stations, flights and transport. Satellites will be dead in the sky; the International Space Station will drop. Power grids won’t be able to handle the storm’s massive currents- they’ll catch fire or explode. Hundreds of millions of people without electricity during months of repair- they’ll starve or freeze to death. Nations will take years to recover. If mother earth will let them.

  Orrin buried his face in his shaking hands.

  “I have to fix this. Jaysus Christ, I have to fix it.”

  He dropped back to the couch, scouring the internet for more information, more clues. Hours later, Orrin was jolted from his thoughts by a shrill ring. He dropped his laptop back onto the coffee table. His latest search results reflected onto the glass windows that were still haunted by an auroral glow. ‘Homo floresiensis - Beyond the protests: the benefits and ethics of proto-human experimentation.’

  Exhausted, Orrin fell back onto the couch as he tapped the mobile screen.

  “Orrin James.” His voice cracked in resistance.

  “Orrin? It's me, Jayne. I’m sorry to call, I know it’s 3am, but I found your number on that paper -”

  He sat straight, weariness forgotten.

  “What's happened?” Orrin’s chest swelled with desperation for news.

  “It's bad Orrin. Really bad.” Jayne's voice tremored.

  He deflated back against the leather, pushing his fingers into his closed eyes.

  “Just say it.”

  “They've found more remains. At Liang Bua. An almost complete skeleton dated to fifty thousand years before present - on the same stratigraphic level as previous hobbit finds.”

  “And? They've found others before haven't they? What's the problem?”

  Jayne's breathing paused for a moment. Then she let it out, all in a rush, as if trying to evict the words from her mouth.

  “The skeleton is a modern Homo sapien. It's not a hobbit, it's one of us. And it's female. It's a modern Homo sapien woman.”

  The tiled room rushed toward him. Orrin's vision blurred and sweat pricked his neck.

  “It's not Ivy,” he said. “It can't be. If she is dead there, how can I bring her back? How can I p
ossibly bring her back?” His throat felt tight and the words broke high and frantic as they spilled from his lips. “I can't bring back a dead woman - I need more time!” Orrin clawed for an explanation. “It's - it’s a native. A woman from Flores. Prehistoric. It has to be.”

  Jayne’s breath faltered down the line.

  “But there are no other remains of modern Homo sapiens at the cave until the Holocene. They begin thousands of years later. This skeleton was found at the back of the cave, beside the remains of a hobbit child, about three years old. I've been running tests. The stratigraphy is definitely Pleistocene and -” she paused again, taking a deep breath. “Orrin, I think it may be of European origin.”

  The words crushed him. European origin. Orrin had read enough to learn that the first European colonists, Portuguese traders and missionaries, had not arrived in Flores until the 16th century, conferring the island its name, 'flowers'. There was no one else it could be. It was Ivy.

  Jayne tried to supplicate his silence. “I'm running the DNA tests again, but my initial results have set the dig team into a spin. To find a European skeleton in Pleistocene Flores - it just makes no sense to them. They think it might be evidence of this 'Hiranah' deity.”

  “Ivy is the Hiranah deity, Jayne.”

  She sighed. “I'm really sorry Orrin. God, you don’t know how much I want to be wrong about this. I'm still at the genetics lab now. I’ve pulled in a favour with a friend and we’ll stay here as long as we have to. As soon as I have confirmation, one way or the other, I'll call you.” Her defeat was palpable.

  Staring into the inky water far below, Orrin fought the darkness rising within him. After everything I’ve done. I failed her.

  Finally giving in to it, his shoulders caved and the tears fell.

  The music came to her slowly. It wove and whispered in broken notes in her head until finally the haunting melody fell together and Ivy listened. Le Cygne. It’s me. The tone and timbre of her own cello were unmistakable; she knew its voice as well as her own. Ivy ached for it to be real. To feel the vibrations under her fingertips. To drown in the memory of polished maple and pine-scented rosin. But it couldn’t be real.

  Because somewhere deep behind the music, Ivy remembered the stegodon hunt. She remembered the karathah fight. To be hearing her cello, in this place, on the edge of death, meant she must be losing the battle. I’m dying then. Or am I already dead?

  The music closed softly with a melancholic note. Then it started again. She listened through it, unable to rouse more than a curious wonder that it was there, in her head. The world was dark but she wasn’t entirely sure that her eyes were open. She struggled, trying to fight off unconsciousness, however futile the effort might be. Then she remembered Rinap.

  The weight of grief and loss crushed her. Death, once again, began to feel like a reprieve and Ivy felt herself drifting on the music.

  No!

  No, god damn it. Not again.

  Ivy struggled to clear her head, pushing the temptation away. Not this time. I have to fight. She willed her body into consciousness. But with clarity, came pain.

  First was her thigh. It throbbed, deep into the bone and Ivy’s breath hitched as it hit her full force. Her fingers twitched in the darkness and with a groan she lifted them, blindly seeking the open wound, but instead finding a poultice bound in hide strips. Ivy shivered despite herself, wishing her mind was clearer. She guessed she owed her life to Lahstri and Shahn, both of whom must have tended to her, while they grieved themselves. She widened her eyes; they were definitely open now. Hearth coals glowed nearby and the soft light of a full moon diffused the darkness of the cave.

  There was a soft grunt near her head and warm fingers grazed her forehead. Ivy struggled to pull herself upright.

  “Kyah!” She turned, burying her face in the bonobo’s arms. They closed around her, as if they had been waiting forever. Kyah hooted a soft greeting, letting Ivy loose and then pulling her close again as Ivy’s eyes strained to make out her friend’s face in the shadows. Ivy's head pounded and her sight was blurry. The faint noise of her own movement amplified terribly in her head, conflicting the soothing cello that still dominated her mind. The perfumed candlenut oil that Shahn had used to fight her septic fever reeked too sweetly, bringing bile to the back of her throat. Le Cygne finished and started again.

  I don’t understand. I’m alive and the music is still playing?

  The song had played numerous times now, beginning again as soon as it ended.

  I’m losing my mind.

  Ivy lifted her face away from the suffocation of Kyah’s fur.

  I need air. She pulled herself up on the bonobo, wobbling precariously on her injured leg. Sparks of pain swam before her eyes.

  With Kyah’s help, Ivy limped to the front of the cave, bypassing the sleeping bodies by their hearths. She was greeted by a perfectly round, ivory moon.

  And then she heard him.

  “Bleeding Christ! What am I doing wrong?” A muffled thud.

  “You can’t be dead. You’re not dead.”

  It was like a whisper beside her. The same sort of whisper she had heard once before, in what seemed like a lifetime ago, only that time, Ivy was in a different world, and it was Gihn who was calling to her through time.

  “I’ll find you. I swear to God, Ivy, I’ll get you back.”

  Ivy’s neck stiffened. Adrenaline flooded her heart. Her fingers twitched with desperation as it pulsed through her body. Could it be? She forced herself to slow down and breathe.

  One breath. Two. Three breaths, and with the last, came courage.

  “Orrin?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut; too scared to see the world outside, in case it took away his voice.

  Silence. Ivy’s heart pounded. Every nerve and cell in her body was screaming. Memories came flooding back to her. Dark flecked eyes and the soft taste of coffee and spearmint. That beguiling Irish lilt on his tongue. Curls she longed to twist her fingers through. The scent of oak moss and fir.

  Losing herself.

  Please.

  “Orrin?”

  She heard a sharp intake of breath and something crash.

  “Orrin! It’s me! It’s Ivy! I can hear you!”

  Orrin spun around, sending another stack of papers and leads flying from his desk to the floor.

  What the hell? Her voice! It was beside him. But there was nothing there. A cold sweat raced the adrenaline to his palms. It was right there, Ivy’s voice, just as real and solid as it had been in the beginning.

  “Ivy?”

  “Orrin! I’m here! I can hear you!”

  “Where? Where are you? I can’t see you.” Orrin spun around, his eyes frantic. It was midnight. Another frustrating day had passed in the laboratory and Phil and Dale had long since left. His monitor shone with iridescent light. Articles and reams of data were scattered across the floor and the music dock blinked its low battery light sporadically as it played Le Cygne on repeat. Tools were scattered nearby on the floor where he had been making some adjustments to the Tesla coil, which sat dormant.

  “I can’t see you either. But I heard them, just like this - before they took us -”

  “Who took you? Are you there? Are you in Flores?”

  “Yes! The hobbits – they took me and Kyah too, they think I can – oh my god, they want the impossible.” Ivy shuddered and let her knees buckle. She collapsed, stunned, on the lip of the cave under a full moon, clutching the amulet like a lifeline. Kyah shuffled around her, anxiously twitching her head.

  “There’s so much I need to tell you,” Ivy gasped. “I don’t even know where to start – I just…” she took a deep breath “I miss you. You don’t know how much.”

  Orrin’s trembling fingers found the bridge of his nose and his glasses fell askew. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, his reply barely a whisper.

  “I miss you too.” Understatement of the year. I love you, he wanted to scream. Ivy’s voice, her words, they were ever
ything.

  There was a moment of silence and Ivy felt her heart pause until Orrin spoke again.

  “I’ve been trying to find you. It’s been murder. I don’t know how to get you back,” Orrin’s voice was cracking. “I’m trying so hard, but there’s something missing. I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m not dead! I’m here,” Ivy looked across the moonlit forest below her, suddenly overwhelmed with the inherent madness of the situation. “I’m not dead, I’m just… prehistoric.” She chuckled, and heard Orrin hiccup the same, slightly manic response. There was another moment of silence between them.

  Focus. Ivy snapped her thoughts back. “Listen Orrin - the amulet - it’s important,” she said. “I don’t know how or why…but, do you remember the necklace I was wearing at that rally, it had a black stone on it - the chain broke when I fell -?”

  “Sure,” Orrin said. He pushed his hand into his pocket, pulling the stone out and holding it in his palm. As always, it drew his attention like a magnet. “I have it here. The whole thing. The chain as well.”

  “You have it? How?”

  “The chain was broken in my lab.”

  “It always breaks,” Ivy said, despairingly.

  “Jayne had the stone. It was an artefact from the Flores dig,” Orrin continued. “It’s how I knew you were there.”

  “Okay.” Ivy had no idea what to make of that. Her thoughts raced ahead, words stumbling to keep up. “Wait - an artefact? The amulet was buried in the cave? Does that mean… I am too? I’m going to die here?” Resentment swelled inside her chest. “No!” She said bitterly. “I’m not going to die here, Orrin! I swear to you, it’s not the end for me here, not anymore!”

  Jayne’s words spun in Orrin’s head and he swallowed back his nausea. ‘The skeleton is a modern Homo sapien. It's not a hobbit, it's one of us. And it's female.’

  “Ivy…” Orrin began, his voice trembling.