by Louise Wise
Gorjum gave a shout of laughter. ‘What strange things you say.’
‘That’s one of Jenny’s.’
They continued in silence until Fly said, ‘Tell me about Molver. How’d you keep her gender a secret?’
‘I smuggled five families in the air vents, including my own. I promised them a new life on the mercy ship. It wasn’t nice knowing they’d been found and murdered.’
They parted around a chunk of ice, and joined up again.
‘Molver was a tiny child, and I knew it was risky bringing them on board but the wardens knew of their existence on Itor so it was only a matter of time before they were killed. I didn’t know my family had been killed on the ship, found that out later when I had to clear up their bodies.’
‘How did Molver survive?’
‘My wife had hidden the children but Molver was canny, even back then, and had a knack of hiding in small places. I didn’t know that at the time. I thought, as a girl, she was, you know…’ He fell silent and Fly didn’t pursue it. They rowed in silence until Gorjum said, ‘She was like a little rat when Saneg found her. She didn’t know me.’
‘That must have been hard.’
‘It was. I taught her to speak, but then wondered if that had been wise when she was eventually caught. Saneg and I were both punished, but his punishment was terrible. He was young and good-looking and well, he hasn’t been the same since.’
‘Then the ship crashed.’
Gorjum flicked a glance his way. ‘Thanks to you.’
‘You make it sound as if I killed your family.’
‘You did. If it weren’t for you we’d all still be on Itor.’
‘But probably all dead.’
‘Under your hands.’
Fly didn’t answer. He glanced at Gorjum and saw that a blanket of anger had fallen over his face.
‘She was beaten and left for dead,’ Gorjum continued. His arms worked the oars as if he was visualising killing her tormentors.
‘Molver you mean?’
‘Who else? I took her to Cra and he fixed her up, probably saved her life. But he was scared. He didn’t want to be found with her in case his punishment was the same as Saneg’s. But then you triggered the first explosion and we had the crash-landing. You know what happened next.’
‘But how did you and others end up with your perfect community, while others were prisoners in the valley with the wardens?’
Gorjum gave him a side look as he detected sarcasm in Fly’s voice. He said, ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if there were other “perfect communities” dotted about. The wardens tried to keep a tight hold of their authority but many escaped. They knew about us, but we were good at defending.’
‘And how safe is Molver there?’
‘She’s never been entirely safe even known as a boy. But she’s the vital element in growing our community and we all know that. But you’ve seen how she is. There’s more to just being uneducated with Molver. The years she’s spent in the ship have somehow debilitated her brain and she’s treated like a child. I think her innocence saved her mind, not depleted it. We’ve all changed, anyway,’ he said. ‘None of us are the men we were.’
‘Except me, eh?’ Fly pulled ahead, sending seawater over Gorjum.
‘Maybe your goddess won’t want you once she sees the rest of us,’ Gorjum shouted pulling level with Fly again. ‘You’re an ugly example of a Jelvia. So, life on the blue Earth planet wasn’t so defunct, after all, and was more advanced than we realised. If Itor realises that, the human species would be wiped out.’
‘You’re wrong. The humans could easily be victorious,’ Fly said. ‘They aren’t to be underestimated. I learned that to my cost.’
They fell silent as they rowed through the icy ocean. Fly had seen a shore behind a craggy line of rocks, and wondered how he could lose Gorjum when the man shouted,
‘I see a boat!’
Fly turned so sharply he almost capsized. He saw waves pushing an empty boat into the rocks.
‘And there’s the other boat,’ Gorjum yelled. ‘They’re definitely here!’
They reached the abandoned boats together. There was nothing in them that indicated a struggle, or even that Jenny was still alive.
‘I’m heading ashore,’ Fly said, and began rowing. Gorjum followed him. They dragged their canoes up the beach, and scanned the area.
‘Can you see any footprints or anything that shows she came ashore?’ Fly asked, peering hard into the sand. ‘Anything?’
Gorjum was shaking his head. ‘The sand’s too wet. Nothing. But,’ he pointed, and Fly turned to look, ‘the jungle is a good hiding place.’
Fly looked towards the flat stone and tall green jungle beyond, then swung his gaze at the rocky caverns and the expanse of marshy ground in between.
‘Come on! Think!’ said Gorjum. ‘Think like a woman being chased. You’ve just been rowing across the ocean with an ugly Jelvia following you. You’ve jumped out of the boat, run up the beach. You’re scared. Now which way would you have run?’
‘Not helping,’ Fly said.
‘Let’s do it,’ said Gorjum, running back towards the sea. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘You get in one boat, and I’ll get in the other.’
‘We don’t have time for this!’ Fly roared, but followed him back into the sea anyway. Gorjum climbed into the boat the furthest away, and Fly climbed into what he thought was Jenny’s.
‘Coming to get you, goddess,’ said Gorjum.
Fly looked at him in disgust.
‘I’m getting into character!’
Fly sighed and picked up the oars.
‘When I catch you, goddess, I’ll have your sexy little body all to myself.’
Fly rounded on him angrily. ‘Want this oar wrapped around your face?’
‘It’s Murdow talking,’ said Gorjum. ‘Now, I’m going to chase you up the beach. Run!’ He made as if to dive out of the boat, so Fly jumped over and began running. He could hear Gorjum behind him shouting obscenities. He knew he was playacting—and enjoying it, but he couldn’t help but think this is what Jenny would have heard from Murdow. She’d have been terrified. And what if he had caught her? He continued to run and found himself heading towards the nearest trees. It wasn’t long before the trees engulfed him and locked him in their wilderness. He stopped and Gorjum cannoned into him.
‘I bet she didn’t stop running,’ he complained.
‘There’s a few broken branches and flattened groundcover here,’ Fly said. ‘I’m sure this is the way she came.’
‘How well can a human see in the dark?’ asked Gorjum.
‘Not well at all. I’m hoping it wasn’t too dark when she came here.’
A honnard howled somewhere in the jungle. ‘Primitives,’ said Gorjum in disgust.
‘They could show you something about civilisation,’ Fly replied. He began walking, leaving Gorjum staring after him.
Chapter Fifty Five
Jenny woke to a fur-clad woman bathing her many wounds. The woman jumped as she jumped, and water spilled. She peered at Jenny from beneath a protruding forehead, and Jenny stared at a face that could only be described as Neanderthal. She pulled her gaze away and looked around at her surroundings.
She was inside a tepee lined with animal fur and had no idea how she got there. It was warm—far warmer than she imagined it could be from the outside. She was still fully clothed, but her boots had been removed. She saw them, and the toe-caps, which had parted from the sole, looked mended.
The woman said something, and then tentatively came towards her with an outstretched hand. Jenny allowed her to wash her face, which she knew, had a multitude of cuts and scratches.
Another woman entered with a decorated bowl. The bowl was steaming, and placed at her side. Inside, it looked like lumps of meat in a greasy juice with a chunk of dark brown bread lying on top. The woman washing Jenny had stopped, so Jenny picked up the bowl, drank in the vapour through her nose and then began sip the broth. Her stomach
growled its appreciation.
The woman who’d brought her the food nodded vigorously with a smile stretching from ear to ear as if Jenny had pleased her tremendously. She backed out of the tent, and Jenny heard her huffing and chuffing to someone outside. Her wound bather left too, and Jenny was alone in the tent.
Her appetite sated, Jenny lowered the bowl. She could see a shadow of someone standing outside. Was she a prisoner or guest? She ate the bread, and watched for the shadow to go. The bread was doughy and bland, but she didn’t care. Nourishment was needed for her long walk home.
The shadow moved away and Jenny placed the bowl on the ground. She grabbed her boots and pulled them on. On her knees, she peered between the folds of the tent. The pit ovens were still smoking—they obviously stayed lit and the day was already busy in the camp.
The primitive people had resumed their chores—tasks from tool-making to cleaning animal skins. One smoking pit oven, Jenny noticed, was exposed and people were dropping yellowy brown rocks into it. A long length of hollowed bone stood upright in the hole. Several people layered the hole with moss and kindling, and someone topped it with sand. A small boy, or girl, sat beside the hole and every now and then blew into the bone—fan oven invented!
There had been no meat or anything inside the oven, so Jenny was confused, but as she came further out of the tent, she saw another opened oven and men using wooden tools to fish out glowing rocks. The rocks were taken to a flat surface where another man stood waiting. He began to bang one into shape with a hammer-like tool.
Jenny sat heavily on her heels. Stunned. Bronze Age. She was at the beginning of the Bronze Age! She deduced that there were many species of the so-called honnards on Eden. From the simple howling beasts to her peace-loving honnards and now to these Neanderthal-like people. They lived alongside one another peacefully. Sometimes interacting, as did the honnards with the native-wolves.
She must have made some kind of noise, because a quiet descended on the camp and then all eyes were on her as she sat at the entrance of the tent. She rose, feeling her limbs groan as she stretched them.
A tall, fur-clad man, stepped away from the crowd saying, ‘Huff-chuff-harff-Chi-Chi.’
Good morning, my dear, Jenny. Lovely day for the Bronze Age, don’t you think?
Jenny still had the flowers in her hair and the necklace was around her neck. She stepped over the many fruits scattered around the door to her tent. Among the gifts was a cooked animal, a pile of root vegetables and more furs and flowers.
She smiled at the Neanderthal, keeping her teeth together like with the honnards, but his answering smile was wide and parted. It creased his eyes too.
Strangely, this moved her more than the gifts around her tent door. It was like seeing another human face again. He touched the stick doll lying on his chest before slipping it off over his head. He came forwards; his hands outstretched, and placed it over her head.
There was a strange silence as if they expected something in return. Jenny was baffled until she realised she had the only thing they seemed to value. She pulled out her sword, and bent so her hair was hanging down and sliced a long piece off. She held it out and he took it as though she’d bestowed a great gift.
He sniffed it and then held it aloft and, grinning, ran around the settlement with his prize. Jenny had hated her hair colour as a child—had been exposed to all sort of taunts but here, her hair was seen as some sort of lucky charm.
She sheathed her sword, and then approached the Neanderthal as he halted, still clutching her hair against his chest.
‘Chi-Chi,’ she said and poked herself in the chest. ‘Home,’ and she pointed in the direction of the forest. She needed to find the ocean. Once there, she’d get her bearings and be able to find Fly and Diana. She’d lost count of how many days the baby had gone without food.
The Neanderthal stared at her. His face was unreceptive.
‘I need to find the ocean,’ she said. She made a swimming motion, but the honnards she knew were afraid of water. She lowered her arms.
A squawk made her instinctively draw her sword, and the sound was followed by a black shadow in a tall tree and the branches shook. The settlement erupted with noise, and people began throwing objects at the bird. Only when the bird flew into the camp and began pecking at the thrown items did Jenny realise that the natives had thrown food.
The villagers sunk to their knees as the bird hopped around picking up chunks of bread or meat with its long beak. Jenny stared down at them in shock: these clever Neanderthals thought the giant birds were some sort of gods. The bird hopped into the undergrowth, its wings folding away. When it had gone from view, the villagers rose.
A prehistoric man pointed a finger at the sky. ‘Kur-nuffs,’ he said. He looked at Jenny. ‘Kur-nuffs, Chi-Chi.’
Stay with us and the birds, oh holy one, stay with us forever.
‘Would love to, but it’s a bit stinky here and the smoke is making my eyes smart.’
He chuffed back at her as if he understood. She thought for a moment and then knelt on the ground, and using her finger, drew the ocean. She drew the small sea birds and distant mountains. She sat back and looked up at the crowding Neanderthals. They began to chuff at one another; their words sounding like real conversation.
Someone threw a flower onto her drawing. It was followed by another and then a dead animal was dropped, destroying the picture. They didn’t understand. They thought this was another gift from her.
She was on her own once again. She stood up and took a tentative step forward. When no one tried to stop her, she took a few more. The crowd parted when she approached them, and with every step, items were placed in her arms: knives, chunks of bread, a bundle of rope, garlands went over her head, flowers were thrown around her feet. They didn’t try to stop her when she left the camp. She had never been a prisoner.
She placed their gifted items in the fur poncho they’d draped over her shoulders, rolled it up, and using the rope, she tied the whole lot to her back. She began to follow the track towards the blackened area where the Neanderthals held their executions. There wasn’t much left of Murdow’s head, and the blackness in the treetops indicated birds.
She stopped, looking up as the memory of a Bo trying to shake her from a tree came back to her. It was a lifetime ago. And now, on reflection, it was obvious that she had been climbing a tree where a giant bird was perched and Bo had been trying to warn her, just like he’d tried to warn her about the bird on the beach.
In hindsight now, the honnards had been trying to communicate to them all along about the birds but they’d failed to understand.
She heard several howls behind her and then answering calls deep in the jungle: a prehistoric telegraph service. She turned her back on the charred part of the forest and headed into the trees, following her previous tracks. She wanted to get back to the place where Murdow died, and from there she hoped to find her way back to the ocean.
Chapter Fifty Six
Fly picked up a single red hair and held it towards Gorjum’s face. ‘Look!’
Gorjum pushed his hand away so he could get a better look at the long strand Fly held between finger and thumb.
‘The goddess?’
‘Have you seen a long-haired red animal?’ Fly said. He dropped the hair and began looking around for more evidence of Jenny. ‘It has to be hers. It shows she came through here. We’re in the right place!’
Fly felt Gorjum watching him closely, and when he looked, the other man was frowning. They’d been following a path of flattened and broken undergrowth beneath the towering trees.
‘More broken bracken,’ Gorjum said, and pointed.
Fly pushed in front of him and began to follow the track. He laughed with delight when he spotted more hair. The strands were blowing in the breeze. He left them there and continued to walk forward, forcing himself to keep his pace steady for he didn’t want to miss any more signals from Jenny.
‘She’s close, I know it,’ he
said over his shoulder.
‘I don’t know why you’re so happy,’ Gorjum said. ‘As soon as I have her, you’re dead.’
There was a flurry of activity ahead. Fly could hear squawks, chirps and angry animal chatter. The ground was soggy, but he’d trodden on something hard. He looked down. It was a man’s hand. The fingers had been bitten but were still attached.
‘Murdow,’ Gorjum said, and Fly saw the remains of the body. The animals feasting on the carcass had slunk away at their approach.
‘How’d he die?’ Fly mused looking around.
There was no way they could tell how he died. His body had been gorged on until it was almost unrecognisable, much of it had sunk into the boggy ground.
‘More to the point,’ said Gorjum, ‘did he die after he found the goddess or before?’
‘Before,’ Fly said. He stomped through the remains to the other side of the thicket. ‘Broken bracken,’ he said. ‘This is the way she went.’
Gorjum hadn’t moved. He stared down at the dead Jelvia. Fly turned to look.
‘Someone killed him,’ he said. ‘Maybe another Jelvia? Or…’ he let his voice trail off, but Fly looked at him uncomprehending. ‘We have to hope it’s another Jelvia. Only they will understand the goddess’ importance. An animal or prim will kill her like it killed him.’ He kicked at the hand. ‘There’s no head. Do you see a head?’
‘Her name is Jenny, and it’s possible she could have killed Murdow. She’s smart,’ Fly said. He looked at the ground. ‘The head has probably been trampled into the ground.’
‘The head but not this hand?’ Gorjum kicked it again.
‘I don’t know, and I don’t care. He’s dead. We should be grateful.’ He turned and Gorjum became lost in the greenery as he left him behind. He heard footsteps as the man hurried to keep up. They walked in silence. Fly was so certain the path would lead to Jenny that he picked up speed until he was practically running. Gorjum was close behind.
He shouted, ‘This path has only recently been cut.’
‘I know. She’s in front,’ Fly threw over his shoulder without losing speed.