Thinking about his own parents made him gloomy. He rose and walked to the gym. A vigorous workout in the weight room kept him from thinking any more about his lost family, Uncle Charlie, and the life that would never come again.
He realized with a start how much he was looking forward to leaving Halcyon tomorrow. There was something dark and oppressive about the university that he couldn’t quite articulate. He felt he was in a dream, in which someone was warning him of danger; and yet he couldn’t understand the language and so couldn’t heed the warning. He only hoped he would awaken before it was too late.
Chapter 19 The Expedition Sets Out
Early the next morning, the Halcyon River expedition set out from the wharf in West Harbor Bay. Eager to get underway, Dave walked with Al to the harbor before sunrise. He checked that their supplies were properly stowed, and then sat on the wharf waiting for the sun to come up. Al went off in search of Floyd to see if he could be of help.
The day dawned bright and sunny with a few cumulus clouds punctuating the blue canopy and the moon already high in the sky. Dave was in high spirits, breathing in the sea air like a man who had been confined to a dungeon for many years. How he longed to be underway. How he longed to be away from Halcyon!
His eyes strayed to the bay. The water in the bay was calm, but past the lens—the gap between Lighthouse Point and Causeway Point—the wind made the sea choppy. He looked at the boats. This expedition, much smaller than the one that had set out to found Botany Bay, consisted of only five cat-rigged dinghies with three people per dinghy.
Al’s hail interrupted Dave’s thoughts.
“Dave!”
He wasn’t alone. A pretty young woman with auburn hair and fine features walked beside him. Dave thought her army fatigues didn’t do justice to her figure. Her beautiful green eyes were particularly striking, but behind them lingered a smoldering anger that discouraged friendly banter. She looked vaguely familiar.
“Dave, let me introduce Pamela Lowental. She’ll be sailing with us,” said Al.
“How do you do?” said Dave.
“Nice to meet you,” said Pam, shaking Dave’s hand.
She seems a little nervous. I guess that’s understandable.
“May I help you stow your gear?” he asked.
Pam’s face brightened and she thanked him, handing over her knapsack and bedroll. Dave carefully stowed her gear in the waterproof compartment in the bow of the dinghy.
By now everyone had arrived, and Floyd, the expedition leader, called them all together for final instructions. “If you look on your map,” he said, waving a sheet of paper in the air, “at the area surrounding Halcyon, you can see that the Halcyon River is almost completely unexplored. We’ve explored the southern bank and the river mouth, and a few brave souls have ventured partway up the river, but we know nothing about the terrain once we travel more than a day away from Halcyon.
“Our plan is to head northwest directly to the mouth of the river and then travel up the main channel. We’ll fill in our map as we go along. During the trip it’s imperative we stay in visual contact. I have an outboard motor and enough fuel for an emergency, but not much more. I can’t afford any false alarms. Signal with a flare if you get into trouble. For safety’s sake we’ll camp on islands, since we don’t know how far upriver the renegades have penetrated. If we get separated, stay in the main channel and check islands for our campsite. Any questions?”
There were none. As the dinghy commander, Al had the tiller, and Dave had the mainsail, while Pam, the least experienced sailor, controlled the jib. The wind was blowing gently from the west, and the other boats began to leave the wharf and sail in a northwesterly direction.
Pam was watching the other boats set sail and grew more and more agitated. Suddenly she turned to Al and Dave. “I’m afraid I’ve never sailed before,” she confessed. “I missed the training film, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”
Al looked at Dave, as if to offer him the option to take up the explanation, but Dave motioned with his hands to decline.
“That’s okay,” said Al. “I’ll explain as we go along.”
It was their turn to leave the wharf, and Dave raised the mainsail. The dinghy gathered way. “Pam, you’re controlling the jib,” continued Al. “Right now with the wind coming from the west, the jib is being pressed toward the right, or starboard side of the boat.” The breeze was gentle, and they moved at a leisurely pace. “Pam, I’m afraid you’re going to have to learn some sailing jargon for us to communicate effectively in the boat. When you’re facing toward the bow, I mean the front of the dinghy, the right side of the boat is starboard and the left is port. To leave the bay we ought to sail straight west, but we can’t do that since the wind is coming out of the west. So we’re sailing as close to westward as we can, roughly west by northwest, and that’s called ‘sailing on the port tack’ since the wind is coming over our port side. In a few minutes we’re going to tack, which means we’ll turn the bow of the boat through the wind. If we do it right we’ll be sailing roughly west by southwest, and we’ll sail right out of the bay. One more thing; it’s always good to use the ebbing tide to leave the bay. Low tide occurs at about 8:40 this morning, and will help us make the run through the lens. High tide will occur at 14:30 this afternoon, and will actually help us run upriver since the tide will be running against the river current.”
Al had been talking while keeping an eye on the other boats. Dave looked up at Pam after examining the mainsail. She was staring into space and had a frozen, disinterested look on her face.
Al’s the best friend anyone could hope for, but unless he learns to cut down his explanations, he’s never going to find a girlfriend.
They were just passing the shipyards on West Harbor Bay. Several of the new Viking longboats were already afloat, and five more were under construction on the shore. The masts on the floating boats hadn’t yet been stepped, but they seemed seaworthy.
When it was time for them to come about, Al warned Dave and Pam, and put the tiller over. The boom swung across. On Al’s command Pam put the jib over. The tack was well timed; they managed to clear Lighthouse Point and reach the open water of the channel.
As the day warmed up, the wind shifted so it was gently blowing from the north. The steady breeze down the channel allowed them to sail for the mouth of the Halcyon River without tacking. Within twenty minutes they were in sight of the first channel islands, and fellow students waved from the shoreline gardens that ran down to the water’s edge. Since the loss of the mainland, these small islands were all that were left of Halcyon’s expansion.
With the help of the tide, progress up the river mouth proceeded rapidly. By late morning, the breeze had slackened and was again coming out of the west. They had left the estuary behind. At this point the river was still two miles wide and the current was relatively weak. There was plenty of room for long tacks, so even this westerly wind proved favorable. This part of the river had been explored, so the expedition did not take time to investigate the numerous islands. At one point, when their dinghy came close to the northern shore, Al pointed out some large alligator-like creatures basking in the sun on the swampy shore. The alligators sent a shiver of dread through Dave. What if these alligators were like the lupi— dangerously intelligent? Looking at them more closely, as they sunned themselves on the muddy bank, he noticed they didn’t really exude an overwhelming aura of intelligence. I guess those carnivores are part of the reason we never spent too much time exploring the swamps to the north of the Halcyon River. He thrust the thoughts about the alligators and lupi from his mind.
The journey settled down to a predictable routine of tacking back and forth in endless succession as they clawed to windward. For Dave it was becoming boring. Although he and Al had spent months together exploring the mainland, rooming with Al for the past three weeks had afforded him the opportunity of seeing his friend when he was alone and not in a group. There were many personal questions he
’d never asked Al. Now was as good a time as any.
“So what made you go into chemistry?” Dave asked.
“I was always interested in science,” said Al, “and when I learned the simple rules that explain how atoms combine to form molecules and give rise to the world as we know it, why, it gave me such a profound sense of beauty and order. I had this sense I was looking at God’s toolbox. Why do you ask?”
“I guess I thought with your interest in the Bible that you’d go into theology and become a priest or a minister.”
Al chuckled. “We all have to take theology,” Al said to Dave, “or at least comparative religions, as part of our study here at Halcyon. Having taken those courses, do they make you want to go on in a study of theology?” Al’s tone made Dave take his eyes from the boat ahead and look at his friend. Al raised an eyebrow quizzically. He had an uncomfortable way of moving conversations in a direction that Dave didn’t want them to go. Sometimes it helped to go on the offensive.
“No. Basically I came away with the feeling that religion—all religion—is a crutch for people who can’t face up to the fact of death or the vicissitudes of life. So they make up nice, happy stories to keep themselves from waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I guess God is an imaginary friend for adults.”
He didn’t add that he’d been thinking about O’Reilly’s last words a great deal. They still seemed so baffling and out of character. Why had he said what he had about God?
“So religion is wishful thinking?” responded Al. “What did they teach you about hell in comparative religion?”
“Hell is a barbaric concept used to scare people into Christianity.”
“Well, don’t you see the apparent contradiction? If Christianity were an invention motivated by wishful thinking, why would the inventors come up with a concept like hell, which no one in his right mind would wish for?”
Dave was startled by something he saw in the water as he turned back to his duty as lookout.
“Floating tree straight ahead!” he shouted.
“I see it!” said Al.
Checking for the position of the nearest boats, Al called out instructions.
“Smartly now; we’re going to tack. Tiller over!”
The dinghy came into the wind, and the boom started to swing across. Dave had the presence of mind to duck just before he could be clobbered by the boom.
“Pam, get the jib over to the other side to help bring us about!” bellowed Al.
Pam, who had been listening instead of keeping watch, was a little slow in reacting. Nonetheless, the bow came round, and they sailed past their nearest neighbor, calling a warning about the floating tree.
Despite the warning, the boat behind them was too busy watching their frantic tack and ran straight into the floating tree. The other boats stayed clear. Floyd, ever watchful, tacked immediately and was able to double back to help the snagged boat.
After they had freed the tangled tackle, Floyd ordered a stop for lunch while he checked the fouled dinghy for damage. He directed everyone to a small island near the southern shore of the river. A single reach on the starboard tack brought them to the north side of the island. The island, which was shaped like a dagger that pointed west, was heavily wooded with large oaks and linden trees. They pulled into a cove at the east end of the island.
After tying the sailboats to one another and fastening the two end boats to stout trees, Floyd gave further instruction. That they were close to the mainland, and within reach of the renegades, was clearly on Floyd’s mind.
“Team one, stay with the boats. Teams two, three, and four, set up camp. Gleeson, you take team five and search the island for hazards. Use your whistle if you get into trouble.”
“Let’s go! Take your weapons,” Al said, unlimbering his crossbow and belting on his short sword.
Dave climbed over the next boat to shore and helped Pam and Al as they climbed to the bank. They unlimbered their crossbows.
“All right, Dave, you work your way up the northern shore,” said Al.
“Pam, you take the southern shore, and I’ll work up the middle of the island. Remember Floyd’s instructions: if you get into trouble, use your whistle—but only in an emergency. I don’t want the whole world knowing we’re here. If you find something interesting, hoot like an owl.”
“I don’t know, Gleeson; I think making like an opera bird would be more appropriate. We don’t even know if this place has owls,” said Dave with mock seriousness. “At least, I’ve never seen an owl.”
“All right, Schuster, you go ahead and flaunt your operatic talents and give us a rousing rendition of something from Verde if you see something interesting!”
Dave and Pam had the easier missions of following the shoreline, while Al had to bushwhack through the dense brush in the middle of the island. Hiking along the near shore, Dave knew from personal experience that meeting a gang of renegades or surprising a pack of lupi was the most serious danger, but he didn’t relish stumbling into one of the alligators either. Then again, there might be all kinds of dangerous predators in this new world that they didn’t even know about. Almost anything could be waiting for him around the next bend.
The first section he searched curved away from the cove to the right. Oak trees came right down to the water’s edge. However, the trees were big enough that there was little undergrowth. After crossing the oak grove, he encountered a large rock face that stretched transversely across the island. He walked inland until he came to a large crevice filled with broken boulders. Using his arms to haul himself up when footholds were inaccessible, he made the ascent easily. After reaching the top of the ridge, he doubled back to the island’s edge and continued along the shore.
The rest of the island appeared to be quite rocky, with the center higher than the fringes. Nevertheless, the shore was very steep, even sheer in places, but thankfully the rock reduced the undergrowth and he was able to make rapid progress. After another 400 yards, the island ended at a rocky elevation shaped like the forecastle of a ship. Since he’d made such good time, he reached the pinnacle first and was able to see Al struggling up the center spine 100 yards back. There was no sign of Pam, since her shoreline was densely wooded.
Dave pulled out his mirror and was able to get Al’s attention with a light flash. He gave Al the thumbs up sign. Al waved back to him, and then changed direction to join Pam.
Dave descended by another route and noticed the entrance to a cave in the rock wall. It was an enlargement of a crack that had not been visible from below or from the first route he had taken up to the rock pinnacle. This chance to explore was too much to pass up. Dave entered the cave and waited while his eyes adjusted to the gloom. He didn’t want to corner a cave bear or trap a mountain lion. Surprisingly it was much brighter in the cave than he had expected. There was enough broken rock wedged into the fissure in the roof of the cave that light was able to filter down between the gaps and fill the inside of the cave with twilight rather than the pitch black he had anticipated.
He advanced farther into the cave. The passage took a turn to the right. After the first turn there was a trickle of water into a still pool that almost filled this chamber of the cave. His feet were scrunching on round pebbles that looked vaguely familiar in the dim light. Skirting the pool, Dave entered yet another chamber.
What he saw made him catch his breath. He quietly backed out of the chamber, returned to the cave entrance, and hooted like an owl.
He was beginning to think Al might have returned to camp, when Al and Pam appeared out of the woods below, their crossbows at ready. “You’d better come and see this,” Dave said.
He led them to the inner chamber. There on the floor, in a pool of light from a crevice high above, lay a skeleton, partly buried in the marble-shaped pebbles. The skeleton was clearly hominid but didn’t look like the human skeletons Dave had seen. The head was too small, and the jaw had features that appeared more apelike than human.
Pam kn
elt down to examine the remains more closely, but she did not touch or disturb the bones. After a few moments she said, “This is a hominid, but definitely not human. There are bits of cloth about, and I think I see evidence of a crude tool belt. There’s something strangely familiar about this skeleton, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
Dave reached down and picked up a handful of pebbles and showed them to Al. They exchanged glances but said nothing. Dave felt a growing sense of foreboding, and from the agitation in Al’s face, Dave knew he was feeling it too.
Chapter 20 The Discovery
The discovery of the remains created quite a stir back at camp. Floyd decided it was of sufficient importance to delay their journey upriver. Fortunately they had a student paleontologist along to take charge of the excavation and recovery of the bones.
Dave and Al guided Sue Burkholder, the paleontologist, and two others back to the cave. After a preliminary investigation, she carefully packed up the skeleton in a blanket. Under her watchful supervision her two companions carried the prize back to camp on the litter they’d assembled from two oars and some rope. Al and Dave followed at a distance.
“What do you think?” Dave asked quietly. “Is this what made the quarry and road we saw up in the pass?”
Al didn’t answer right away but thrust his hands into his pockets and frowned. “I suppose it could be. I guess I’d assumed the road builders would look more like us. This thing is much more like an ape.”
“Did that floor remind you of anything?” asked Dave.
“What do you mean?” asked Al.
“Did the gravel on the floor remind you of anything?”
“You mean, like the gravel at the mouth of the worm caves?”
“Exactly!”
“But there was no hole, no passage,” said Al.
“True, so maybe I’m wrong, but I’m still going to be glad to get off this island,” said Dave.
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