Human (64 page)

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 possibly 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 everything.

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.

“No, Orrin! I’m not – going – to – die here!”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Orrin said, through gritted teeth.

“Just – help me. Keep helping me.” Ivy squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to maintain the flow of thoughts. “The amulet changed when it happened, okay, it was hot and blue and there was this big flash of light. And the hobbits were singing. They were calling to me somehow. I just – I don’t even know what that means, but I know it’s important. They have to be singing for it to work. The harmonies- the noise. It’s something about the energy from the moon? God, damn it! I don’t know what any of this means. And the stars, I left you a drawing of it, just in case -”

“I saw it. I saw the stars.”

Ivy stopped abruptly. “You saw the stars?”

“It was brilliant. A perfect lunar calendar. I knew it was you.”

“You did?” Ivy stuttered. “I didn’t think you’d ever find it.”

“I told you, Ivy. I’ve been searching for you. For clues. Everywhere.”

Ivy couldn’t help but grin into the darkness. She shook her head and drew her arms tight around her body. Seconds disappeared in silence.

“Orrin?”

“I did this,” he said. “I’ve made a mess of everything and I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me for it. But I’ll get you back, no matter what it costs me.”

“No. It’s not your fault, please don’t say that,” Ivy implored in a whisper. “Sometimes the thought of you is all that keeps me going here.”

“Really?”

“God, yes,” Ivy admitted. “This life here, it’s like a beautiful dream and a nightmare all at once. These people have the most incredibly rich existence, and so much life
inside
their hearts, but there’s so much
death
all around them. And I just - I’ve already lost so much.” Her heart ached for Rinap and the hunters that she guessed were days buried while she lay unconscious. Turi. Krue. Emiri. And then there were the others.
Her own.
In another lifetime, so many years ago.
I lost them too.
Ivy took a deep breath and looked to the night sky for strength.