REGENESIS

by D. Scott Dickinson

  Congratulating themselves on their rapid progress, facilitated by the unexpected presence of natural stone bridges at every river crossing, they look forward to contented, well-earned rest as both suns begin their retreat beyond the horizon.

  The new night finds them approaching another river, and Noah suggests they climb a thick nearby tree whose low branches beckon them into the embrace of a large bolus several feet above ground.

  First, they must eat, and the river is home to many fish. Spearing two of the species they know are good eating, the couple sit at the edge of the bank, feet dangling over the water, and regard its silent depth as it flows gently past them.

  It is when they discard the remains of their meal that the couple find themselves in dire peril!

  Consuming the tender flesh of the two fish, they stand at the water’s edge and casually cast the head, scales, bones and other uneaten portions on the riverbank between themselves and the nearby tree.

  That is when the earth explodes with the wriggling, bulging forms of gigantic worms. The eyeless creatures raise their heads and sway violently back and forth. Their bristle-lined jaws gulping air in an urgent quest to find food.

  Their distended bodies are long and shiny, and their bristled mouthpiece reminds Noah of the jawless lamprey of his world. A very primitive link in the early chain of vertebrate evolution. But even the most rudimentary mouthpart, jaw or no, can grasp flesh if its stiff spike-like bristles impale a victim through its blind probing.

  There are many of the creatures. All are groping the air between his mate and the tree!

  Seeing no escape in that direction, Noah clutches Davina’s arm and leads her quickly along the edge of the riverbank. To a spot where the worm tracks remain still. Then, tiptoeing between them, they double back to the tree and are soon climbing into the safety of its bolus.

  Looking down, they witness the recently agitated worms slow their swaying motion and then disappear back into their worm-tracks.

  Peace and silence return to the riverbank and, as the darkness deepens, the couple fall asleep in the tree.

  Only Noah is restless, and it is pitch-black when he awakens to sounds in the night. They are as soft as sighs and, strain as he will, the man cannot make them out.

  He does detect a furtive, menacing quality in the sounds, and he knows there are things in the night he and his mate would best avoid. He resolves to take extra precautions at the end of each travel-day to make sure they are well above ground before night catches them.

  Sensing the danger lurking below, he sleeps only fitfully the remainder of the night.

  When dawn arrives, the world is silent once more and there is no trace of the creatures of the night. Only his memory of their whispered threats.

  The couple make good progress again this day, and their path takes them to a very different landscape.

  At first, the trees grow sparser and smaller. Bushes grow thinner and shorter. While the more open horizon ahead takes on a less reddish, more golden glow.

  At length, they emerge from the smattering of vegetation to the edge of a great desert.

  It is unlike any desert Noah has seen, on his travels in this world or in his own.

  The terrain ahead is neither flat nor solid. It is a series of endless sand-ridges, stacked one upon another. Their outlines rolling like majestic, cresting waves toward the prairie-like stretch the couple are leaving.

  Remarkably, the slough of every wave is a hollowed-out space opening onto a wide, deep cavern melting into the shadow within. And every striated sandy surface is adorned with flowing lines of golden-yellow, rust-orange and powder-pink that appear etched by wind.

  Yet there is no wind in this still, sterile place.

  Davina is enchanted by the surreal artistry of the patterns in the sand and the folds opening into the caverns. She reminisces:

  “This reminds me of ice-valleys I have crossed. Tracks the wind leaves in new snow in the high mountain passes. Caverns the melting snow cores out of new avalanches on the low valley floors.”

  Shrugging, Noah admits:

  “The landscape here is, indeed, breathtaking. I never have seen a desert like it. And I do not see how we are to cross it. The sand ridges run parallel, east-to-west, before us, and they are very high.

  “Worse, there is no sign of water. Just every indication of an arid, lifeless landscape where we would perish from want of food and water.”

  As it is late in the day, he suggests they return to the last open river they crossed. Where they can eat and drink and take shelter for the night in one of its nearby trees.

  It is yet light when they arrive back at the river’s edge and, after eating their favorite fish, the couple retreat to a bolus in the closest tree. Where they discuss preparations for crossing the series of high ridges they will face on the morrow.

  Provisioning will be the key to their survival and, thankfully, the river and the trees along its bank are provident sources for what they will need. It is pitch dark by the time they conclude their plans, and the couple surrender to a deep slumber that will refresh them and renew their strength to meet the challenge ahead.

  Dawn finds Noah at the crown of a tree, chopping off several vines, thorns and blood-red fronds with his hand-axe. Davina is on the ground below, fashioning them into crude baskets stitched together with the thin, flexible vines that support the yellow thorns.

  In the process of cutting the vines, Noah discovers the thorns are hollow and closed at their blunt end by a leafy flap like the pitcher plants of his world. But unlike the sticky, acid-filled hollow of a venus fly trap, these thorns are empty and light. Perfect for transporting water.

  It is a more burdened but confident couple that approach the sand-ridged desert this day. Each carrying generous quantities of filleted fish and sweet water.

  But the sand is soft, and they are badly winded after climbing only the first of many steep slopes before them. Pausing at its crest, they are appalled at the sight of wave upon steep wave marching out of sight into the distance ahead.

  Clearly, crossing this desert will be the work of many days, and they have not the food and water, let alone stamina, to get far.

  In fact, they have been so long ascending this first slope that both suns are dipping low toward the horizon, and they know they must redouble their effort to retreat to safety before darkness catches them. Half trudging, half sliding back down the steep slope, they get only as far as the base when the two suns wink out over the serrated horizon of sand.

  They are too late!

  As the black shadow of night creeps over the sand toward them, Noah motions his mate into the unexplored recesses of the cavern yawning out at them from beneath the crest of this first sand-ridge. While the mouth is high and wide, it quickly tapers down to a low crawl space extending into the shadowy recess at the back of the cavern.

  Retrieving the glowing crystal from his backpack, Noah holds it up in surprise and awe as it illuminates a widening cave just beyond the crawl space. The crystalline torch reflects back the golden surface of the inner cave, and the couple now can hear the trickle of running water on the other side.

  Wriggling through on their stomachs, they emerge into a space that towers above their heads. A narrow stream hugs the base of one wall, flowing away from them deeper into the cave, and a splash of fins betrays the presence of fish. The cave’s floor is smooth, and the trackless sand shows no sign of other creatures passing this way.

  Exhausted by their arduous climb on the sand-ridge, the couple make a quick meal of fish from their leafy pouch, wash it down with fresh water from their thorn-pods and then huddle against the cave’s dry wall and fall asleep. Noah clutches the crystal close to his chest, allowing enough light to cast soft shadows but not to keep them awake.

  Their slumber is profound and uneventful, and the couple arise fully rested in a chamber coated in gold, reflecting off every facet of sand. With the crystalline torch as their guide, they set off at once to discover
where this cave leads. And they are reassured to see the only footprints in the soft sandy silt are their own.

  The cave is high and wide. Its floor is level and smooth. And they travel many leagues before fatigue sets in and they stop to sleep once more. The river follows them all the while, and it is many sleeps later before the character of the cave begins to change.

  Davina is first to detect it, and it is heralded by the first faint sound to intrude on the silence of this subterranean world.

  “Do you hear wind?” she asks her mate. “It is a noise I have heard before, the soft whisper of air moving through a high mountain pass. I wonder what it is doing here beneath the surface of the world?”

  As they continue to follow the coursing stream, the new sound becomes more distinct and assumes a rhythmic throb like the exhalation of a respirating lung.

  “It is as if the earth is breathing,” Noah exclaims. “I wonder what the source of this sound could be?”

  Interrupting his train of thought, Davina points down the tunnel and exclaims:

  “Look, Noah, there is a pinpoint of light ahead. That is no reflection of our crystal-torch; it is too far away.

  “It appears we are near the end of this cave. And it appears we will have to stoop or crawl when we get there. For the roof of this cave is getting lower as we go.”

  It is not long before she is proved right as, amid a deafening crescendo of thunderous pounding, they stoop to get through a waist-high opening and step out onto an elevated ledge.

  Overlooking a scene of such violence it catches their breath!

  There, spread out before them, is a watershed of crashing cataracts flowing over steep cliffs. From the surface of the high plateau down to a deep river basin flowing into wide pores in the solid rock at its base.

  All the water pours down one side of the great basin. Reaching the final destination of a journey that began in the soaring geysers raining down on this side of the plateau’s great divide.

  Limned against the sheer cliffs, the water cascades down in silver ribbons of light, smashing into the turgid waters below to create rolling banks of mist. One side of the fog-like surface is hidden in shadow, while the other rises like rainbows into the light of two suns.

  Separating the two is a broad border of vivid violet slashed across the river basin like the bold stroke of an artist’s brush.

  Captivated by the panorama of many crashing falls, the couple do not at first realize how close they are to the top of the cliff. Looking up, they discover the mouth of the cave is but a few feet below the roof of the river basin. Positioning himself closer to the cave entrance, Noah cups his hands together and boosts his mate up onto the edge of the plateau. Reaching down, she pulls him up beside her.

  They are standing in a world very different from the one they left when they entered the cave those many sleeps ago.

  Gone are the high, serrated ridges.

  Gone is the fine, golden sand.

  They are back in the same world they left when they first entered the high plateau.

  Here is the same parklike setting of widely scattered tree trunks.

  Here is the same blood-red canopy of interlocking fronds reaching between them.

  Here are the same yellow pendant thorns hanging from that canopy.

  And directly ahead lies the same arc of dense trees they traversed to enter this high plateau.

  “If it were not for the left-to-right flow of the waters,” he tells his mate, “I would wonder if our long journey through the sand cave was a cruel trick, running us in a wide circle back to where we started.

  “But there is no mistaking the eastward direction of these rivers and, so, we are headed north still.”

  Crossing through the tree-line, the couple find themselves on an open prairie leading to a distant horizon of green.

  “If my calculations are correct,” Noah assures his mate, “that is the great pampas belt stretching before us in the distance. We have come to it at a different place, but it is the same unmistakable horizon I saw on my earlier journey.”

  They are but three days march from the pampas. After two uneventful nights on the open plain, they reach it late on the third day. Sleeping on the prairie once more to gather their strength before plunging into the high, thick reeds.

  Early the next morning, they follow the margin of pampas until they find a passable break in the dense wall of green. It opens into a broad corridor of soft, bare earth lancing directly into the tall reeds ahead of them.

  The ground is marked with the traces of many ungulate hooves, and Noah knows this open road is the work of the aurochs he encountered in his earlier journey across this world.

  “This is the trail of the heavy, hoofed beasts I told you about,” he warns his mate. “They are not aggressive, but they are very large and display a highly developed form of mimicry.

  “We can be standing right next to one and not be able to see it. So completely do they blend in with their surroundings.

  “And I worry more about the giant crocodilians that prey on these gentle beasts. They are monsters. Possessing keen eyesight and lightning reflexes.

  “Where the aurochs are, so will they be as well, for both are part of their exclusive predator-prey relationship.”

  The broad path eventually narrows to a cramped corridor slashed through the vegetation by a swiftly running stream. Although the footing is slippery and treacherous, the abundance of fish amply compensates them for the inconvenience.

  The two suns are high in the sky when the couple emerge from the stream-carved tunnel onto a wide stretch of open prairie.

  “Look!” Davia cries aloud. “There are the bulky grazing creatures you described to me, and there are many on this broad plain. I also see their wavy outlines moving against the edge of the pampas they mimic so marvelously!”

  Smiling back at her, Noah adds, “And the best thing about these creatures is that they pose no threat to us.”

  He could not be more mistaken!

  Proceeding across the open prairie, the couple make it only halfway when the ground begins to shake beneath their feet. At first, Noah fears this may be an earthquake but, looking back, his eyes meet a scene that widens them with shock.

  “Run, Davina! Something has spooked the aurochs, and they are stampeding this way!”

  Making a mad dash for the nearest stand of pampas, the couple race to reach the thick reeds. With the aurochs’ hoofbeats thundering in their ears.

  Chapter 50. The Maiden’s Gift

  The stampeding aurochs drive them deep into the pampas. So deep they cannot discern whether the echoes of stomping hooves are fading from the departure of the aurochs or of themselves.

  What they cannot know is the stampeding creatures herded them here. To this very spot. To a path that will lead them to a higher purpose than Noah can imagine.

  A purpose the patient planet has waited millennia to fulfill.

  A purpose that will secure the destiny of the world.

  Looking around, Noah sees that every tall reed is like every other, leaving no mark to guide them back to an open path.

  They are utterly, irretrievably lost.

  The pampas closes in around them.

  The air is still, the heat oppressive.

  The only semblance of a trail is a low opening through the groundcover at the base of the reedy stalks. It offers the way of least resistance and, crawling on hands and knees, they take it.

  The ground has been disturbed by many small paw-prints, and Noah wonders what sort of creature made them. But he has no cause for concern, because the low brush-tunnel runs but a short distance before opening up into a narrow but high defile running straight through the tall reeds.

  The narrow passage is smooth and even. Unmarred by prints of any kind. Even the air seems fresher and cooler here. The open trail is transected by many rills, providing small fish and sweet water.

  The couple travel many days along this path until, eventually, it leads them to a p
lace Noah remembers well. And he knows now they are nearly quit of the choking pampas.

  It is the sylvan glade he visited during separation from his furry fellow-travelers. Recalling his harsh, helpless despair in the uniramous grasp of its caretaker, he whispers to Davina they must avoid this fell place.

  Then comes a reaction he did not expect.

  “We cannot leave this glade,” she demurs. “It draws me compellingly to its purpose. It issues a call I cannot resist. A call I will not resist.

  “I do not ask that you understand my urgency, for it speaks to the womanhood in me. I ask only that you indulge me in this, as you love me, without question.

  “We must sleep here this night,” she insists with finality, “for our future together.

  “For it is in this place, and no other, that our destiny lies!”

  Noah is floored by the force of her profession, speechless at its inexplicable import. But his flood of unanswered questions and unstated reservations remains dammed by lips sealed with the soft, brushing touch of her fingertips.

  The discussion is over. The decision made.

  Accepting her conviction with equanimity, Noah follows his mate’s lead into the flora-fringed glade. To the side of the deep, crystal-clear pool fed by the gurgling waterfall. Bathed in the vividly colored light from the rainbow-mist dancing at its feet.

  The same giant blossoms bloom at the margins of the glade.

  The same yellow papaya pods fruit against its bright green foliage.

  And the same unnatural cleanliness attends every immaculate surface of the sylvan glade!

  The caretaker has been lately at his duties, Noah reflects, and when night arrives . . .

  What then?

  But that is a question that goes unasked as he resolves to repose all trust and faith in the one he loves.

  She has asked his forbearance, and she shall have it!

  Shadows already are lengthening, and it seems they have but time to capture fish, cut out some reddish pulp of papaya, eat and drink their fill and select a suitable place to sleep when night falls suddenly.