The Days of Peleg

by Jon Saboe

  “You vile, pitiful, creature of mud!”

  Although there was no sound, the words slid painfully into his brain and resonated relentlessly within his skull.

  “How could you possibly be acceptable to the Creator? You live in ignorance and strife for a few brief moments in time, and then return to the dirt taking your ignorance with you.”

  Peleg’s mind twisted, imprisoned in a terror which suddenly escalated when dozens of new voices joined in tormenting laughter that echoed in his head. He twisted his eyes to try and see any additional apparitions, but there was nothing but blackness.

  “Your kind is so inferior, and continues to worsen,” a new voice chimed it. “We are superior to you in every way, yet when the Creator decided that we were guilty of one minor offence, we were stripped of everything and reduced to this form.”

  “How much more will you suffer,” the original voice returned, “Disgusting species like yourself who live in bodies of clay, made from dust. There can be no mercy for you. Your faults abound in such numbers as to make ours insignificant.”

  “Your turn will come,” a third voice entered his head. “If He found fault with us, imagine what horrible, unforgivable shortcomings he will find in you!”

  “Unfair!” screamed another. “The Creator is unfair!”

  “Unfair!” echoed dozens of voices, repeating it until it became a cacophonous chant. “Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!”

  This continued for several minutes, reverberating in Peleg’s brain until their attention returned to attacking Peleg, spewing an endless barrage of hopelessness and disdain. A deafening avalanche of taunts flooded his mind. Accusations of worthlessness, inferiority, and mortality swam in torrents, saturating his thoughts from every side.

  “You will be crushed like a moth!” The original voice rose above the others who quieted slightly as it spoke. “You are destroyed in a day, yet once you perish, you never even know it. You die with the same wisdom you were born with—none!”

  “With the smallest effort,” the third voice again, “your heart stops and you are no more—!”

  More laughter and jeers filled his head, increasing in strength until he felt he would lose consciousness. A sudden weight on his chest caused his heart to pound faster and louder than ever. Desperate, derisive attacks on his worth, a rabid hatred of his species, and gleeful pronouncements of the abolition and annihilation of all humanity coalesced into a large pressurized cauldron of molten hate which poured into his conscience, scorching his very essence.

  The thick darkness in the room became a palpable, repugnant stench which trickled in through his nostrils, and, although he was still immobile, he began to choke and gag on the fumes which wafted down into his throat, blocking his breathing. He could sense his muscles straining to thrash in panic, but no movement was possible.

  Suddenly an explosion far louder and more powerful than he had ever heard or even imagined compressed him from every side, pounding him in shock waves of pummeling force—which did not subside, but increased in intensity. His body vibrated from the concussion, and he closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to make everything go away.

  A brilliant white light suddenly filled everything, pouring through his closed eyes, revealing the veins in his eyelids. He tried to cover them with his arms, but his limbs still refused to move. The volume of the explosion and the severe intensity of the light continued to grow and expand simultaneously. The stone slab upon which his sweat-drenched bearskin lay began to shake and Peleg waited for the inevitable end to come.

  Suddenly, in an instant, the roar and brilliance stopped, as if they had simply winked out. Complete silence echoed in his room, and the radiant pressure upon his eyes was replaced by soothing darkness.

  Peleg was too terrified to open his eyes, but he tried to force his remaining senses to determine his surroundings. The thickness and foulness in the air was completely gone, and he could feel nothing of the entities which had surrounded him.

  Cautiously he opened his eyes. His room was exactly as it had always been throughout his stay these past months. The light panel glowed, mysteriously restored to its normal luminosity. The thin veil of water continued to trickle down the side of the wall. He decided that, earlier, he had only dreamt he had awakened. However, the word Nephilim began ringing, unbidden, in his mind.

  He realized with relief that his neck and arms were now able to move, and he twisted and flexed his muscles, enjoying their return to usefulness.

  He slowly rose from his bed and saw that the only indication that anything unusual had actually happened was his bearskin. It was so soaked with perspiration that he could actually ring out small amounts of liquid when he squeezed it.

  He got to his feet, and immediately sagged towards the floor. His legs were like soggy reeds, and it took a great deal of concentration to get back up and make his first few steps.

  Without any warning or announcement, the stone doorway slid upward and a man’s high-pitched voice called out.

  “Come! Now!” he spoke as if unfamiliar with the language. “Me!”

  The man motioned urgently with his hand, trying to pull Peleg towards himself.

  Peleg had not heard any of the usual hasps being removed before the door opened, and he wondered if it had been unlocked. If so, how long had he been free to simply leave or wander this community?

  Peleg moved unsteadily towards the young man, but as he neared the doorway, the man dashed past him into the room and grabbed his bearskin and brought it to Peleg.

  “You need,” he said urgently, and then wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of the perspiration-laden blanket.

  Peleg looked at the man and recognized the flute player from across the hallway. He grinned briefly, showing his unnaturally sharpened teeth.

  “Bernifal,” he said, pointing to himself, giving his name. He grabbed Peleg’s arm and pulled him out into the black corridor.

  Fortunately Peleg’s rubbery legs regained their stamina quickly, because Bernifal moved very rapidly, almost running, and Peleg was forced to completely trust his new guide as they turned corners and stooped under archways. Bernifal would stop short just before a staircase and apply pressure to Peleg’s arm to indicate whether they were going to step up or down. He would press down on Peleg’s head before entering an area with a low ceiling, or pull him sharply to the left or right when passing a narrow walkspace or navigating a tight corner.

  At least this is what Peleg surmised as they moved through the pitch-black labyrinth at rates much faster than he would have liked. He wondered about Bernifal’s intent. Had Shem sent him, or was he acting on his own? Perhaps Bernifal had been moved by a touch of conscience and decided to actually help him escape!

  On the average it seemed they were moving in an upward direction. He couldn’t tell whether Bernifal could actually see some of the surroundings, or if he simply had an extraordinary knowledge of the layout. Either way, Peleg hoped that Bernifal would not misjudge and drag him into a wall or over a precipice.

  Suddenly Bernifal seemed concerned about noise. He pressed his finger against Peleg’s lip with a slight hissing sound, signifying a need for complete silence. They started walking slower and Peleg tried to mimic Bernifal who began to move without any sound. Bernifal was helping him escape!

  They heard voices approaching, and Bernifal pulled Peleg into a small cleft, hiding until they passed. This happened several times and Peleg wondered who or what Bernifal was hiding from.

  They turned to the right and Bernifal stopped suddenly. A voice in front of them spoke in a challenge, and Bernifal responded with a short string of syllables which included his name.

  There was a harsh response accompanied by short comments from three other voices. Peleg sensed them approaching to attack, and Bernifal’s grip tightened on his arm as he prepared for a confrontation.

  Suddenly Bernifal threw Peleg against the side of the corridor and let go of him. Peleg cringed against the wall, blind and abandoned, where
he waited helplessly, unable to discern what was happening around him—or what his rescuer was doing.

  After pushing Peleg out of the way, Bernifal returned to the center of the corridor where he struck the first charging assailant in the windpipe with the curved edge of his right hand while simultaneously stomping on the top rim of his kneecap using the outer edge of his right foot.

  The attacker collapsed with a horrendous choke of pain, barely able to breathe. His kneecap, although not broken, had been forcibly shifted downward, scraping painfully against the bone and creating a hyperextension that ripped the tendons behind the knee.

  Two of his three companions shouted, giving Bernifal their height and location. As they closed on him, Bernifal planted his left foot in the abdomen of the man on the left, and at the same time, broke the right collarbone of the right assailant with a downward swipe of his right elbow. The man on the left bent over, but continued to charge at Bernifal, only to receive a kick in his face from the same left foot that had not yet returned to the ground. With a broken nose and a throat filling with blood, he sank to the ground unconscious.

  The broken collarbone still allowed the right assailant one good arm, which he used to try and strike Bernifal. It was blocked by Bernifal’s upraised arm, which he lowered until his fingers wrapped deftly around the assailant’s forearm. Bernifal slid his hand loosely along the arm until he reached the wrist, where he switched grips and took hold of the assailant’s thumb, placing his own thumb against the back of his hand. With a twist, he forced the wrist in one of the few directions it was not designed to go, and then aimed assailant number three’s thumb directly towards the wall.

  The assailant yelped, jerking his face in the direction of his pained wrist—which was twisting, helplessly following the ensnared thumb. With a crunch, his temple struck the side of the tunnel, rendering him also unconscious.

  Bernifal heard the fourth and final assailant rushing towards him. Unfortunately, assailant number four was too incensed to realize that Bernifal was now crouching, and he ran into Bernifal’s raised and outstretched palm.

  Bernifal’s relaxed left hand was awaiting the rush of air that preceded the collision, and when they connected, his fingers were already wrapped around the edge of the fur tunic. Bernifal dropped the rest of the way to the ground, and the attacker suddenly found he had acquired an unexpected weight as Bernifal pulled him down.

  As assailant number four tipped forward, Bernifal extended his right fist, placing it firmly into the groin of the falling victim. He was now completely supported by Bernifal’s two extended arms. Using the attacker’s momentum, Bernifal propelled him headfirst (arching above Bernifal’s now supine form) to land firmly on top of the first attacker—who was just starting to get back up.

  Peleg could see none of this, however. He only heard the grunts, yelps, and thuds, and was very surprised when a man crumpled in front of him, only to be followed six seconds later by another man landing on top of the first.

  Bernifal rose and rushed to Peleg, grabbed him, and they resumed their blind run, this time with no concern for noise. Bernifal shouted a few, simple syllables, forgetting that his companion didn’t know the language. They sprinted through a few more twists and turns, and then slowed to navigate a walkway which was tighter and narrower than any Peleg had yet experienced in this place.

  Bernifal led him single file past three more sharp turns, and then Bernifal stopped and placed Peleg’s hands on what seemed to be a wooden bar. Peleg was momentarily confused until Bernifal placed his foot on a lower bar. Reaching up and down, he felt other bars and suddenly determined that he was facing a ladder.

  Bernifal placed Peleg’s bearskin around his shoulders, and pushed him to ascend, which he did. They climbed until Peleg was completely unsure of how far above the ‘ground’ he was. Fortunately, no sight meant no vertigo, and he dutifully kept placing one hand after the other as they slowly approached the ‘ground’ above—with no idea of how much farther it was.

  Suddenly Peleg’s face plowed into what felt like a nest of twigs and dirt, and a rain of damp particles fell on him. He was unable to brush any of it away without letting go, and the prodding of Bernifal forced him upward and through the debris.

  He shook his head, dislodging some of the dirt, not thinking of the fallout on his companion below. Suddenly his head struck what could only be dirty, damp, earth, and he stopped.

  Bernifal shouted from below and pushed upward, slapping on Peleg’s calves. Finally, Peleg hunched his shoulders and plowed headfirst into the blockage.

  A mound of dirt and turf rose up above his head, and he was instantly blinded by a painful light more brilliant than he had experienced in months. He was on the surface! He closed his eyes and pulled himself up onto the ground where he rolled into a ball, placing his fists over his burning eyes.

  Bernifal followed close behind, and turned to reposition the dirt portal. Then he rushed to Peleg and lifted him, prodding him to continue running.

  The overabundance of light in the mid-day sun aboveground blinded him just as effectively as the absence of light belowground. Peleg placed his forearm over his tightly clenched eyelids as Bernifal grabbed his other arm and they continued as before—Peleg forced, again, to totally trust his rescuer. This time, however, they did not worry about silence and stomped noisily through dry leaves, twigs, and other foliage. Peleg wondered if Bernifal was as blinded by the sun as he was. If so, he must know this territory as intimately as the caverns below.

  Peleg felt heat on his back and realized he was unaccustomed to the sun beating down on him. They entered an area where he could feel that the surrounding foliage grew higher and soon they were pushing through tall, thick grasses that seemed to rise far above them. Suddenly, the heat diminished, and he knew they had arrived at a covered area, with cooler air and a slightly higher humidity.

  Gradually he lowered his arm and peered cautiously through his eye slits. The light in the shade was still intolerable, but he continued to bat his eyes and squint until eventually he was able to focus on a dark patch of ground with one eye closed.

  Bernifal sat him down on a large rock and Peleg slowly began to assemble his surroundings as his eyes adjusted.

  He focused on a nearby object and discovered Bernifal’s face peering into his own. He had light brown skin with dark blond hair—not like the brilliant yellow which had covered Serug’s head. He smiled as Peleg became aware of him, showing his sharpened teeth once again—but somehow in normal light it wasn’t nearly as alarming.

  Peleg looked around and groaned. He was in a cave! He had sworn to never again step foot in a cave should he ever escape. The intense light to which he was slowly adjusting was nothing more than dim day-light streaming through the thick grasses that covered the opening. The actual cave was about five times larger than the room in which he had spent the last few months, but he noticed a second opening that seemed to continue further into the back.

  As his eyes re-learned to focus in normal light, he began to make out simple reddish orange paintings decorating the uneven walls of the cave. A huge bear was being attacked by men with spears, and in another, a fierce fight between a large mammoth and a charging ušemšutum was portrayed.

  Bernifal was waving his arms, trying to get Peleg’s attention. He motioned forcibly in a downward sweep, ending with his index finger pointing firmly at the ground. The meaning was clear.

  Stay here!

  Peleg nodded, and Bernifal dashed out through the grasses, leaving Peleg alone in the cave.

  Peleg began to walk around his environment, inspecting the perimeter of the rough coarse rock enclosing him. There were definite signs of previous habitation. Some rolled-up mats, several crude throwing spears, and a few simple pieces of cooking pottery. He approached the pottery and discovered what appeared to be a small fireplace, carved out of the lower part of the wall. Charcoaled sticks, and bits of white ash covered the area, and he tipped his head inside where he felt a slight draft
indicating a simple flue.

  Peleg wondered how much he should trust this Bernifal. Was he really helping him escape from Shem, or did he have some agenda of his own? Although it was tempting to simply leave the cave and head out on his own, Peleg decided he would stick with his rescuer a little while longer. At least Bernifal knew the area.

  A rustling in the grasses made him jump, and he waited nervously until Bernifal suddenly emerged into the doorway. He smiled, and Peleg saw that he was carrying several large sticks of wood along with some spindly branches and dry leaves.

  Bernifal walked past him to the small fireplace and proceeded to build a small structure of kindling, laying the larger sticks around the edges.

  Eventually, he was satisfied with his preparations and stood up. Bernifal didn’t start a fire, but smiled at Peleg, indicated again that he should not leave, and then disappeared into the thick grasses just as before.

  Peleg looked around and shrugged. He wandered over to the only piece of furniture—the rock Bernifal had been sitting on earlier—and sat down. He leaned back against the wall and began to ponder his options.

  He was glad to be away from Shem and the other Gutians, but he did not have his notes, charts, or instrument—and they were irreplaceable. Was there any way he could communicate with Bernifal and get him to re-enter the complex and retrieve them? He couldn’t just simply return to Ur with nothing to show for his twelve years of exploration. Perhaps if Shem thought Peleg was important enough, some kind of deal could be arranged—with no intention of fulfilling it.

  He awoke suddenly and realized he had dozed off. The sun had set and the cave was now darkened, but ambient radiance from a full moon outside filtered through the grasses creating a room that still had much more light than the one he had lived in below.

  He stood up and winced; surprised to find that his muscles and joints were stiff and sore. He moved about slowly, tempted to start the fire, but not sure who might notice or how safe it was.