The Days of Peleg

by Jon Saboe

  Kriema had obviously underestimated the severity of the deed.

  “What would you have me do?” he had asked with lowered eyes. “I am unfamiliar with such crimes.”

  “You must render him unconscious and place his body in one of your casting molds. He will become part of the Acapana of Tiwanaku. Do you understand?”

  Kriema had nodded and agreed to do all that was asked.

  Manco Cachi had turned to leave, but at the last moment, looked back to make one final request.

  “As for his sick heart, you are to bring that to me along with the stolen icon.”

  Kriema had nodded dutifully, already planning how he would fulfill the High Priest’s order.

  Just before noon, Kriema spotted six men as they approached and entered the temple. One was a priest wearing his leather helmet, and four were wearing robes and obviously guests of the priest. The sixth man was dressed poorly, wearing a frayed light-green robe with no hood. Apparently someone from the western regions.

  The man seemed quite nervous, and Kriema felt sure he had spotted his thief.

  Sure enough, in less than half an hour, this same man came running across the temple bridge and directly toward Kriema—which was the direction the six had come from.

  Even before he drew near, Kriema could see the bright gold medal hanging around his neck. The fool! His heart must surely be sick if he felt he could steal, blaspheme, and flaunt his wickedness.

  “See what I have received,” he called. His eyes glazed with the excited fervor of a madman who is gloating over his crimes.

  Kriema refused to hear any more. He took his staff and struck the man on the side of his head, and as he fell forward, he used the other end of his staff to uppercut the man under his chin, snapping his head backwards.

  Death was instantaneous, and Kriema looked for the nearest vat to place the body.

  A sense of peace and well being flooded Kriema, as he knew he had served his priest well and avenged his god. He removed the icon and placed it securely in the pouch along his inner sash.

  Now all he had to do was select the tools he needed to fulfill Manco Cachi’s final wish.

  The emptiness in Mentor Inanna’s heart awaited her as it always did when she awoke. She knew she would never get over her beloved Salah’s death. After one hundred and thirty years of marriage, it was inconceivable that it could end so abruptly. How could something as powerful and indefinable as Lifeforce simply cease to exist?

  A gentle movement interrupted her thoughts. From within her womb, a new life was forming, and she could sense her child’s inquisitive nature as tiny feet began their patter from within. A soft smile crept over her face as she remembered the night her poor husband’s alter-personality had swept her up the staircase and ministered to her with an abandoned passion that only a deranged lover could offer.

  A strange thought occurred to her.

  What if Lifeforce did not end? Something about this mysterious core of existence must continue. Perhaps when someone’s body died, their Lifeforce continued to exist someplace else? It might even return.

  She looked down at her swollen abdomen. What if her dear husband could be re-born in this new life? His life had contributed to this child as much as hers. As her new child grew, would she begin to see his personality traits and aptitudes?

  What a beautiful cycle of life, she thought. It would explain much.

  With this new thought comforting her, she quickly went back to sleep.

  Her new baby would arrive in less than six months.

  Chapter 24

  Purging

  “When Right and Wrong are in the eye of the beholder, perception decides everything.”

  Untash and Serug were feeling around the area where the entrance to this chamber had been. There was no edge to grab, and it was certain that the force of several men had wedged the heavy stone plug back into the opening. The metal rod which had swung it into place was also recessed into the wall.

  “It is designed to withstand internal pressure,” said Thaxad.

  Peleg wondered how the Mentor knew what they had been doing, but then he remembered that he was the only one who was totally blind in this place. Thaxad could discern their body heat and knew exactly where each man was.

  “What do you mean?” asked Peleg.

  “I believe we are in the interior of a large water clock,” he answered, eventually. “Part of the function of this pyramid is a water tower to provide irrigation. But I have seen communities use their water tower as a timekeeper, also.”

  “How would that work?” asked Serug, abandoning his attempts at removing the plug.

  “Water is sent at a constant rate into chambers such as this, and when a certain pressure is reached, it is released, and a marker or some kind of mechanical measurement is moved. There are chambers that measure minutes, hours, or other units of time.”

  “Well this must be the ‘twelve-hour’ chamber,” said Peleg. “Either that, or it’s going to fill up very fast.”

  “Actually, you are probably correct, Chief Peleg,” Thaxad said. “We arrived here almost exactly at noon, and I suspect this is the After-Meridian chamber which has been emptied to start the noon-to-midnight cycle. This is probably the Before-Meridian chamber as well, which will start again at midnight. Most likely there is an ‘hour-chamber’ elsewhere which will be emptied into this one at Zenith plus one.”

  “If that’s true, then that means this chamber must empty out when it’s full,” said Serug, hopefully. “It has to empty out through some opening.”

  “Well, it won’t empty out through the opening we came in,” said Untash. “That plug is only going to be sealed tighter the more pressure that is placed on it.”

  Peleg got on his hands and knees.

  “We need to see if any of these stones will move if we put enough pressure on them,” he said. He began randomly pushing at the base of the wall.

  “I have already spotted the valve-stone,” said Thaxad. “It is set in the side of the wall, next to the floor. It has a special flanged edge which is different from the other stone settings. However, I expect it will require twelve hours worth of accumulated water pressure before it will move and release.”

  “Let me try,” said Untash.

  “I’ll help,” added Serug, undaunted.

  Peleg listened as they walked over to where Thaxad was sitting. He guided them to the correct stone and they began pushing.

  They could only press so hard, because the wet floor gave them no traction. After several failed attempts which sent them both skidding across the floor, Untash tried something different.

  He lay on his stomach, with his hands pressed against the valve-stone and tried to place his feet against the far wall, but the room was too wide for him to reach.

  “Serug, get under my feet and stretch out to the far side.”

  Serug realized what he wanted, and placed his feet against the far wall and lay face down on the wet floor. He placed Untash’s feet on his shoulder and together they applied their combined energies against the valve-stone.

  “You’re breaking my shoulders,” howled Serug after a few seconds of pressure.

  “There is no way we are going to accomplish this with mere muscle,” said Thaxad. “You will need to generate force more than sixty times greater than what you have just demonstrated to move that stone.”

  “How much pressure do we need?” asked Serug.

  “That depends on how tall this chamber is, and how full it gets in twelve hours.”

  Suddenly a low roar interrupted them from overhead, and large sheets of water began to fall on them. Peleg covered his head, and the two men lying on the ground hurriedly arose.

  The noise and echoes were deafening, and the force of the water hammered their heads and backs as it seemed to be falling from a great distance.

  It stopped as quickly as it had begun, and they found themselves standing in slightly less than one meter of water.

  “It’s on
e hour after zenith,” quipped Serug.

  The four men stood in silence, each contemplating the next few hours. In one hour the water would be up to their heads, and in another, they would die one by one as each man became unable to tread water. Untash had tried scaling the walls using the corners, but even he was unable to get a grip on the smooth limestone.

  They sat in silence, each man estimating when the next hour would arrive. Suddenly, just as they were anticipating the next deluge, they heard a grinding noise.

  Turning, they saw a faint circle of light, and realized that someone was re-opening the chamber by pushing the plug towards them!

  “Hurry,” a voice whispered loudly. “They’ll be back soon.”

  The plug cleared the opening and swung to the side. The water level could be seen just lapping at the bottom of the aperture.

  “Manco Chavin!” shouted Serug.

  “Silence,” he hissed back.

  They tried moving through the water, but as they neared the opening, they heard a yell, and they could see something strike Manco Chavin from behind.

  “You would betray us all!” someone yelled. It was one of the priests.

  Untash made it to the opening first, and tried to climb out, but the plug was operated by a mechanism from the outside. The heavy stone seal swung up sideways in a slight arc, and then was dropped, landing with a heavy thud on Untash’s shoulder.

  He yelped in pain, but kept forging ahead.

  Suddenly a large flaming torch was thrust through the opening into Untash’s face. He recoiled as one of the other priests raised the plug for another strike. The other three prisoners tried to grab the huge stone, but were unable to prevent the next swing which fell, striking Untash squarely on the side of the head.

  He collapsed, unconscious into the water. Serug tried to lift him up while Peleg and Thaxad watched in horror as the plug was lifted back in the opening and slowly pulled shut. They grabbed at it desperately, trying to grasp it to prevent it from closing, but it was relentless. One of Peleg’s fingers got trapped, and he lost a patch of skin as he wrenched it free. Then they were resisting with just their fingernails until finally, it inexorably closed as quietly and as smoothly as before.

  Thaxad turned to Untash who was being held up by Serug.

  “Is he going to be all right?” he asked.

  “Just as ‘all right’ as the rest of us are,” answered Serug.

  Just then hour number two arrived, and the blankets of water pummeled them.

  When it ceased, only Thaxad’s head was above water. Peleg and Serug held onto him, while keeping Untash from sinking below the surface. They were buoyed somewhat by the water, and Thaxad had no problem supporting them—for the moment.

  “He’s bleeding,” said Thaxad.

  Serug reached for the side of Untash’s head. He felt the hot, sticky residue of blood, and quickly washed it away with splashes of water.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  “When the side of someone’s head is thirty degrees warmer than the surrounding water, I think I might notice,” grunted Thaxad.

  They bobbed, hanging on to Thaxad for many minutes, supporting the unconscious Untash, and trying to revive him by tapping his face lightly and calling his name.

  Finally Untash groaned and began to come around. Serug and Peleg both began to speak to him.

  “Untash. Are you all right?”

  He coughed a few times before he spoke.

  “I guess we didn’t make it.”

  “No,” said Serug. “We didn’t.”

  Untash coughed one more time and said, “I suppose we’re not in danger of dying from dehydration.”

  Serug took one of Untash’s hands and placed it on Thaxad’s shoulder, then let go and dove down to inspect the valve-stone and gave it one futile push. As he resurfaced, his robe entangled his legs and he had to kick himself free of its folds.

  “We should take these robes off,” Serug declared when he caught his breath. “They’re just dragging us down.”

  “No!” said Thaxad. “Every layer of clothing helps prevent the onset of hypothermia. This water is almost thirty degrees below our body temperature, and we must do everything to retain our body heat, or we shall die as surely as dying from exposure.”

  “I think we’ll be dead from drowning long before that,” said Serug. “When do you think this chamber will empty?”

  “The valve-stone will not release until this chamber is completely full,” Thaxad replied. “We shall keep our robes on.”

  Untash repositioned himself, holding onto Thaxad’s shoulder.

  “Take your robes off,” Untash said, countermanding Thaxad, with the same voice he had used when they had scaled the mountainside. Although it sounded exhausted and dizzy, there was no questioning his conviction.

  Thaxad began, “I just explained…”

  Untash released himself from Thaxad’s side and began removing his robe by pulling it completely over his head. While treading water, he grasped the hood near the neck and tied it into a huge knot which totally closed the neck opening. He then tied similar knots in each of the wide sleeves.

  He lifted the entire garment out of the water and untangled it. Grasping the hem, he created a large oval by opening the bottom of the robe—which had now become a large cotton bag. He began splashing water into the opening—which seemed like it would only refill the robe with water. What actually happened was the resulting waves became a fan, which blew air into the robe as the water settled back down.

  Gradually the robe ballooned, floating on the water. Eventually Untash seized the base of the garment, twisted it in his hands, and held it securely so that no air would escape. He stopped treading water and allowed the buoyancy of his new robe-balloon to support his weight in the water.

  He explained what he had done and told the others to do the same.

  “This won’t hold air for very long, but it will give us time to rest. You will have to re-open the base and splash more air into it from time to time. As for hypothermia, we will need to hold each other for warmth.”

  The other three constructed their robe-floats with assistance from Untash.

  “I once stayed alive for more than five days on the open sea with just a long shirt, which I fashioned in a similar manner.”

  This solicited a response of silent respect, as the four of them waited wordlessly, floating helplessly on the dark waters.

  At the appointed time, hour number three came crashing down upon them. When it had subsided, they quickly regrouped, re-inflated their robes, and clung to each other for warmth. Each man held on to another with one arm, and with the other hand, clenched his robe/float until it needed refilling.

  The solution to one concern led to the realization of another. As this chamber filled, they would run out of air. And the air they were now breathing would soon become stale.

  Death was still certain, but at least it had been forestalled. Eventually they developed a pattern of treading, inflating, warming and supporting each other. As the water rose, they now had a system to rise with it.

  It was going to be a long day.

  After catching the thief, Kriema knew he hadn’t watched the entrance to the Acapana continuously, yet he didn’t recall seeing the four guests emerge. They had been wearing non-descript robes much like any common man, but there must have been something special about them since they were accompanied by one of the Inner Thirteen.

  He had seen ten priests leave and one return later. Soon after that, five priests had entered, and soon after that, six had left.

  He shook his head. It really wasn’t his concern. The priests knew what they were doing. He must have just missed them.

  The tenth hour of water arrived on schedule, but throughout the day they had soon realized that each hour also brought fresh air from the hour-chamber above.

  The men were shivering violently since the water temperature had gone down significantly as the night progressed. They now floated almos
t ten meters above the floor of the chamber.

  Serug was the first to speak after the splashing had ceased.

  “I know there are still two hours left before the weight of the water is great enough to empty this chamber,” he began. “But I think we might be able to force the valve-stone with our own strength, now that there is ten hours of pressure built up.”

  “That sounds good to me,” said Peleg. “What do you think, Thaxad?”

  “I believe it is worth a try,” he said. “We might be able to make up for the final two hours of pressure.”

  “It’ll give us something to do,” said Untash. “My joints are getting all stiff.”

  “That’s right,” added Serug. “And the sooner we get out, the sooner we can find something to eat.”

  “We will have to plan this carefully,” said Untash. “We will be diving down 10 meters, arranging ourselves flat, face down along the floor so we can push against the valve-stone in the far wall. We must then be prepared for whatever happens if we do manage to successfully begin emptying this chamber.”

  Peleg asked, “Does anyone remember which wall held the valve-stone?”

  Silence ensued as they tried to orient themselves based on the direction the water entered the chamber. However, due to the hourly deluges, no one could remember.

  Thaxad said, “I’ll be right back,” and disappeared beneath the water.

  A few moments later he re-emerged near one of the corners gasping for breath.

  “It’s on the side next to this corner,” he said. “We will need to dive together and arrange ourselves when we reach bottom.”

  Untash took over.

  “When we get to the bottom, we lay face down and I will place my feet on Serug’s shoulders and Thaxad will place his on Peleg’s to the right. I will tap on the wall three times, after which we will push with all of our might.”

  Thaxad resumed.

  “I suspect there will be a locking mechanism which will hold the stone once it has been pushed into place, but we can’t be sure. We also don’t know if there will be any room for us to exit through the opening we create. We might just be emptying the water and then waiting for mid-night when it will all start again.”