REGENESIS

by D. Scott Dickinson

  Stranding Adam on the eastern bank of the river coursing south. While his brothers remain on the western bank of the other.

  Meantime, both channels are deepening as the roots of tree-lined banks shackle the fierce current.

  Making the water angrier and angrier!

  Both rivers become boiling cauldrons of rushing rapids as their embankments push back against the swift flow of water coursing through the constricted channels. Between natural levees reinforced by the rooted, bent and weeping trees lining their elevated bluffs.

  Soon, the fading figure of Adam is lost to his brothers as they continue to follow the western branch in search of a place to cross.

  It is a forlorn and exhausted Adam who, reaching the limit of his endurance, stops beneath a spreading willow to rest. While two suns cast the fading shadows of his brothers as they disappear into the distance to the west.

  He is alone. Traveling to a region undiscovered and unknown.

  His only consolation is the abundance of silver-sided fish, which he deftly spears with his lance for supper.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  On the far distant, opposite shore of the western branch, Shem, second eldest, calls a halt to the day’s march. Posting sharp-eyed Japheth to keep watch, he tells the other brothers they will sleep here before taking up the journey in the morning.

  Like their separated leader across two rivers, the brothers are able to dine on the small silver fish shoaling near the foot of the steep embankment. As full bellies allay concerns for what awaits them the next day.

  With the arrival of dawn, the brothers resume their march along the river that is inescapably leading them west. Drawing them farther away from Adam with every step.

  Hope grows ever fainter with each passing day.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  Meantime, the other branch is drawing Adam nearer to the eastern sea as the ocean shoreline gradually begins to veer west. Toward the northern hinge of the gateway leading into the great, unexplored bay.

  Adam enters a different, unfamiliar world as he continues his long trek along the eastern, windward bank of the river. And the terrain changes dramatically.

  Gone are the bent, weeping trees. Replaced by tall reeds marching across the landscape to the west. Ruffled by gentle winds that bend them down in waves that snap back up with the passage of every zephyr breath.

  Gone are the black mire along the riverbanks and the watery bogs of the floodplain.

  The earth changes to sand. Shape-shifting to conform to the contours of solid substrate beneath. Swept by the prevailing easterlies that kick up sand as they blow in from the ocean.

  Traveling ever southward, Adam is overcome by the unsettling feeling that he marches not alone.

  Far to the east, through the salty air carried by the offshore wind, is a column of snow-white mist dominating the horizon. While he cannot see the ocean, Adam knows it is there. What he cannot fathom is the ghostly curtain of mist where the sea should be.

  Each travel-day, the phantom-white shadow haunts his vision as it marches in lockstep with him to the south. And with each step, he yearns to reach the shore of the eastern sea. Across the long spits of sand that stretch continually southward separating him from the ocean beyond.

  South toward a chain of small islands rising above the waves. An archipelago anchored by a larger, barb-shaped island. Casting pale gray, yellow and green reflections across the water.

  Even the river is changed. Growing calmer as the quantity of streams feeding it lessen and then disappear altogether. Leaving a single, uninterrupted flow of water steadily southward. While the banks on both sides gradually become more shallow. Until sweet water mixes with brine as the river empties into the gulf of the eastern sea.

  It is here Adam’s journey ends. At the shore of the great bay. On a barrier island flanked by the waning river on one side and the ocean’s shore on the other.

  It is here the chain of offshore islands sweeps westward. Following the shoreline. Only to disappear in a ghostly white fog to the south.

  And it is here the offshore bank of snow-white mist ends.

  Standing alone on the windswept beach, Adam realizes he has reached land’s end.

  Except for the offshore islands and the landward sea of grass to the west, it is a world of water.

  Waves lick at the southernmost spit of sand on the barrier island, where he stands, spinning off white-crested rollers racing westward. Nothing but ocean appears on his horizon between the small islands of the archipelago to the east and south into the fog and the reedy flats along the shore of the delta to the west.

  Never has Adam felt so alone. Separated from his brothers. Cut off from their world.

  After eating his fill of silver fish, he curls up on the riverbank next to the sandy beach. Reassured by the dramatic slowing of current along this final stretch of the waterway, he resolves to swim across before the current can wash him out to sea. He is confident he can make the crossing with room to spare.

  He drifts asleep with the hopeful prospect of gaining the far shore of the river and then striking west to rejoin his brothers.

  What he does not know is that all hope will abandon him when he wakes up to unexpected horror in the morning!

  Adam’s eyelids flutter as shades of grey, yellow and green flood across his vision. Urging him to wakefulness.

  When his eyes do open, they look out upon a startling scene!

  The twin suns are just beginning to rise. And the snow-white mist has returned to dominate the southern sky.

  The small gray islands remain visible several leagues offshore. But as the white mist departs under the heat of two suns, it reveals a larger land mass to the south.

  Towering cliffs of greyish-yellow, tinged with a greenish glow. Closer inshore than the archipelago to the east.

  So enthralled is he, Adam does not comprehend the sinister form rising out of the brackish depth of the river behind him!

  Chapter 72. The Riverine Delta

  This day finds Adam’s brothers many leagues to his north. As the western branch forces them ever farther from the eastern river.

  Like the rivers themselves, the headwaters of the Great Northern Fens bleed into a very different world on the coastal plain.

  While Adam has followed the dry, sandy barrier island between the eastern river and the sea, the brothers are entering dense forest. Leaving the sunlit fens behind.

  The narrowing river is the only break in the closely clustered trees. And it runs even deeper and swifter as it is forced through the ever constricting channel between elevated banks.

  Like a chained monster, it vents its wrath in roiling, swirling eddies threatening to suck in and drown whatever it can reach.

  Hurrying southward in its swiftly flowing haste. Making up lost time. Carving steeper embankments out of the land. Gnawing at the roots of the weeping trees that grow along them.

  “Stay to the tree-line side of the bank,” Shem warns.

  “The river here is hungry and will swallow us at any misstep. We best keep an eye on the trees as well, for we do not know what manner of creatures may dwell among them. Make every step a caution.”

  The thick trees are but a narrow belt of forest, separating the Great Northern Fens from the riverine delta to the south. And, while the trees reverberate with a distant and growing roar the farther they go, the anxious travelers traverse the dense wood in the full light of day.

  Emerging from the forest, they are awed by the immensity of the delta landscape dominating the coastal plain.

  The brothers find themselves on a high ridge. Beside a crashing cataract as the river plunges downward. Into a foaming pool that drains into a broad, placid river meandering southward across the plain.

  Even the violent crescendo of hammering waterfall cannot distract from the breathtaking grandeur of the riverine delta.

  In the far distance, the brothers see a diamond-studded counterpane of ocean. Winking back at them in facets of silver and gold. As tw
ilight enfolds this magical world.

  “We will make camp here,” Shem decides. “We dare not hazard a descent in darkness. When full light returns, it will show us the way down the escarpment so we can continue our journey to the sea.”

  Chapter 73. The Sleeping Death

  Landing their craft on a spit of silt reaching into the bay, the sisters retrieve their lances and water-gourds and step boldly onto solid ground. Dragging their battered wicker craft across the sand, they beach it near the fringe of reeds growing along the shoreline.

  The thick reeds fringe the silty alcove along the beach to the bank of a narrow stream to the east. Leaving an open strip of sandy shoreline at the edge of the bay in both directions.

  The small stream is choked with reeds. They grow like mangroves rooted in the shallows and covering its banks.

  While it appears to offer no portal out of the alcove, it brings fresh, sweet water. And for that the sisters are thankful.

  “None of the wolf-like creatures appears in the swift current along this shore, where whitecaps are what they seem,” Mei-o-Peia observes. “There is fresh water here, and silver fish near the shoreline. It grows dark, and we need rest.

  “We do not know what creatures the darkness may bring. We will sleep this night in our craft.”

  With that, the sisters set about catching their evening meal, wash it down with water from the small stream and file into the wicker shell that carried them across the savage sea to this unknown shore.

  On-o-Peia is the first to awaken to the dawn of a new day, crisp and cool. Adventuresome and curious by nature, she slips quietly through the aft hatch into a bright new world.

  The twin suns are painting the eastern horizon in broad, level strokes of red and violet. The silty ground is looking up through polished facets of silver. The sea is glowing a brilliant sapphire. And the tall reeds are glistening deep emerald green.

  The youngest sister is enchanted by the surreal beauty and calm of this place, and she wonders if they are a harbinger of even greater magic in this new world. So different from the reef-locked isolation of her much warmer island home that is no more.

  “We cannot remain here long,” Mei-o-Peia tells the sisters after a leisurely breakfast of silver fish. “There are too many unknowns. There is much to learn, but this much is certain:

  “This is not our destination. The Earth Spirit has sent us on a quest, and it does not end here.

  “We must complete our journey, wherever it may take us.

  “I will follow the shoreline east. Lin-o-Peia will lead the rest of you west. When the suns rise twice more, we will backtrack and meet here again before dusk on the fifth day.

  “Then, we will know in which direction our destiny lies.”

  Hefting their lances, six sisters take the narrow shoreline west. Walking Indian file along the bay.

  While the eldest wades across the shallow stream and takes up her path to the east.

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  Adam’s fascination with the mysterious cliffs rising through the dawn of the following day is interrupted by a soft snarl.

  Whirling around, he is confronted by a great dire wolf pulling itself onto the shore with long front legs!

  The lupine monster is the very incarnation of its high plains cousin—long fangs and claws, lanky grey-furred body, glowing-ember eyes—but with a crucial distinction.

  It has flukes in the place of back legs, making it slow and unwieldy out of water and sparing Adam the few precious seconds required to defend himself against lethal attack.

  While, across the river, a most unlikely witness arrives upon the scene. Her emerald eyes, widened in amazement, peering through the dense wall of reeds.

  Jumping back, Adam raises his spear just as the creature is upon him. But it bats the weapon aside while its open jaws descend on its defenseless prey.

  As an airborne lance soars across the river to still the wolf’s beating heart.

  But the lance is too late, and the monster manages to nip Adam as it falls, lifeless, to the ground.

  Swooning from the effects of the neurotoxin, he also slumps to the ground.

  And lies there as still as death.

  Chapter 74. The Seekers

  Approaching the seemingly lifeless figure of the fallen stranger, Mei-o-Peia pauses only long enough to make sure the wolf is dead before kneeling next to its victim.

  Indeed, she knows this wolfish creature. She has met its like before.

  Tracing her fingers across the man’s robust chest, she feels an electric jolt of yearning crackle through her body on contact with his hot skin. Smiling with relief at the labored but steady rise and fall of his diaphragm.

  While she shakes him gently, he does not awaken. He remains as still and unresponsive as a corpse.

  But Mei-o-Peia does not abandon hope. She has been witness to the same deep, coma-like sleep. She knows he will recover from the sea-wolf’s bite. And she resolves to stand guard against other threats for as long as he remains in this helpless state.

  First, though, she proceeds to perform a thorough inspection of the stranger’s bronzed skin to locate the site of any bites and assure they are free of infection.

  She marvels at the beauty and perfection of form of her patient. And she wonders if he can be the same species as her island race, whose hairless males evoked only revulsion and painful obligation.

  Each time her fingers brush against the prostrate man’s flesh, a jolt of electricity courses through her. Touching her very soul. As she carefully inspects every inch of the man’s muscular body.

  Finally, she gently removes his loincloth, when her eyes widen and arousal surges through her own body. Nothing in her experience has prepared Mei-o-Peia for this revelation, and she stares longingly at his nakedness. Then, something happens the brash beauty did not expect.

  For the first time in her life, Mei-o-Peia blushes!

  While nudity is her life experience, and the practice of her people, she finds herself unaccountably embarrassed by the nakedness of this handsome stranger. And she quickly restores his loincloth, preserving his modesty and quelling the intense emotions that overpowered clinical detachment.

  Her inspection complete, Mei-o-Peia leans back, relieved that the man largely escaped the wolf’s assault. Except for the shallow bite-marks on his forearm, every inch of the man’s skin is clean and unbroken. And the pricks on his forearm show no sign of corruption.

  Adam spends the rest of the day in a twilight trance. Unable to move. Drifting beneath the thin edge of consciousness. Dimly aware of another presence. Dismissing it as mere illusion.

  By nightfall, his breathing has slowed to a nearly imperceptible rise and fall. His mind reaches a deep-sleep state. And enters an unlikely dream. Of an impossible phantom image.

  It is a young woman. She is not unlike his mother in shape or form. The same height. The same graceful feline figure and fluid movements. The same wide eyes and long lashes. The same pert, upturned nose and full lips. And the same pointed, elvish ears.

  But this phantom has copper-red skin, unencumbered by clothing of any kind. Long sable tresses reach down to her graceful shoulders. And her eyes are the emerald green of tropical forests, not the ice-blue of polar frost.

  A single tear leaks from Adam’s eye as longing and regret flood his thoughts.

  The despair of knowing no such creature exists beyond her who gave him life. Knowing he is condemned to the futility of a hollow existence without a mate.

  Grieving for what might be but is not.

  No, this phantom presence is not real!

  It comes to tantalize.

  It comes to beguile.

  It comes to tease.

  It is the false, hollow reflection of unrequited hope and unattainable desire. A discarnate phantasm of delirium from the bite of a creature that itself is improbable.

  Dismissing the fanciful image as a cruel deceit, he sinks into dreamless sleep the remainder of the night.

  Two
suns are high in the sky the following day when Adam’s eyelids flutter. While the world remains hidden by a curtain of fog, as his eyes remain unfocused, he cannot escape the feeling he is not alone. Gradually, the fog thins and the objects around him begin to take on definition.

  There are the two suns.

  There is the azure sky.

  There is the blue-green sea.

  And there is an indistinct blur of movement floating across his vision.

  A sudden return of clarity brings him bolt upright. As he hears a honey-smooth voice reach out to him:

  “What manner of creature are you?”

  Stunned at hearing human speech, in a language he can comprehend, Adam turns to face the phantom from his dream.

  Her copper skin is burnished by the intensity of two suns as his own bronzed tan pales by comparison. Her thick mane of jet-black hair shimmers against the sunlight as it cascades down her long, elegant neck. Framing the perfection of beauty that gazes back at him. Quizically. Searching for an answer.

  And while the exquisite nakedness of her feline figure arouses unfamiliar desire in him, Adam’s attention is riveted on the liquid emerald-green eyes that appear as round and glowing as the twin suns overhead.

  A deep intake of breath prevents a timely response, as Adam stares back mutely. In dumbfounded adoration.

  “You do possess speech?” Mei-o-Peia quips in a tone hardened to mask her own fascination.

  Standing upright to face his interrogator, Adam looms a head taller than she. And while she is lithe and slender, he is robust and muscular. With only the sparse loin cloth concealing his full manhood.

  Unlike her, Adam has coarse, cropped hair, an unruly tangle of curls. His chin is cloaked in a thick, full beard. And his wide eyes are crystal blue.

  Peering intently, Mei-o-Peia’s heart melts into their sea-like depth.

  It is she who falls speechless at his response.

  “I am the seeker,” he explains in his mother’s common tongue of the creatures of reason.