by J. S. Bailey
The winds finally died down an hour before nightfall.
“Isn’t she a beauty?” Hugh murmured as he extracted part of a pelvis—a female hip bone, by the look of it—from the dirt.
Kerry stared at the tarp on which the bones were being laid. So far, in addition to the skull, they had unearthed most of the vertebrae; both femurs; an assortment of ribs, metacarpals, and metatarsals; and two entire arms sans the flesh. He and Hugh had placed the bones on the tarp in an approximation of their original positions, gradually giving shape to the person who had been buried there.
“I suppose so,” he said at last. He didn’t like the speed at which Hugh was digging and feared that the man might accidentally crush the bones with his shovel. Besides, bones so old needed to be handled delicately, not tossed around like worthless stones. “Shouldn’t you be more careful with those?”
Hugh laughed and shook the hip bone in his hand. “Kerry, my boy, when I’m finished here, these bones should be as good as new.”
That’s what Kerry was afraid of.
Hugh picked up the damaged skull and turned its grinning face toward Kerry. “What do you think she’ll look like? White? Black? Blonde? Brunette? I’m guessing blonde.”
Kerry suddenly felt queasy again. “I still don’t see what good it’s going to do.”
“It’s our last resort to learn anything about these people. You didn’t have much of a problem with the idea before.”
“That was before I got to look at it face to face.” Or face to skull.
“Come on. These people were the ones foolish enough to not leave a written record behind to sate our curiosity.”
Kerry sifted absentmindedly through a bucket of sand with his fingers. “The records might have been destroyed.”
“Didn’t they teach you anything in school?” Hugh pointed the tip of his shovel at the ground and leaned his weight into it, forcing it to plunge into the dirt. “Some of our records made a reference to a group of people who banned the use of paper to help combat excessive deforestation. Everything they ever wrote was made digital. None of the gadgets of theirs we’ve uncovered has worked. So until we can resurrect a load of melted microchips and see what the fools had to say, this will have to do.”
“It sounds like we do know something about them, then, don’t we?” Kerry sneered.
“Only broad generalizations. Horton wants to know what went wrong with their society so we don’t make the same mistakes.”
“Not banning paper might be a good place to start.”
“How astute of you. The use of paper is certain to solve all the world’s problems.” He picked up another bone; this one a clavicle. “This thing is fractured, too.” He set it on the tarp.
Kerry gulped. “Horton said he’s never tested the process on humans before. He was going to run several more tests before…attempting this.”
Hugh gave a snort. “A human’s just a big animal who has weapons and fancy clothes. The felines he brought back appeared to be quite healthy.”
Actually, two of the cats that Gabriel Horton had brought back from the dead had died again during the past week; most likely from internal anatomical defects. Hugh must not have heard the news.
“But how do we know that whatever soul enters the revived body is the same one that left it at death? What if the revived body has no soul at all?”
“Kerry, in all my seventy years, I have seen no evidence that human beings, or any other living creature for that matter, possess a soul. Quit your worrying. You’ll live longer.”
“Fine, we have no souls. But have you considered the idea that the resuscitated brain may not hold any of the knowledge or memories that the person had in their previous life?”
Hugh scratched an ear. His face looked paler than it had moments before. “I hadn’t considered that.”
“How do you suppose this woman was killed?”
“Like I said, it could have been a club. It might have been a bad accident, too.”
“So you’re saying she might have been murdered.”
“Listen.” The man’s wrinkled face was stern. “I don’t care how she died. I want to know how she lived.”
“I hope you don’t plan on asking her what happened.”
“Why should I?”
“Because that’s what you do. Besides, seeing as she was buried without a coffin…”
“Go get me the flashlight out of the glove box. It’s getting dark.”
“Funny, I hadn’t noticed.” Hugh’s abrupt changes of subject generally meant that the previous conversation was in need of no further comment. Kerry clenched his teeth and retrieved the light, hoping that they wouldn’t be caught when someone all the way back at the base spotted a distant speck of light on the horizon. If caught, the pair would surely be fired for having breached protocol and arrested for the theft of Gabriel Horton’s monstrosity of an invention.
Kerry had considered calling the base to report Hugh’s transgressions while the man slept, but doing so would be a cruel betrayal. Hugh had been a kind of grouchy, immoral father to him over the long years. And he had been a friend.
“Here.” Kerry handed him the flashlight and resumed sifting through the sand that Hugh had already gone through, to ensure that no smaller bones had been overlooked.
Hugh clicked on the light and swept its beam over the pit. “Hmm. Looks like we’ve got about all of her. A few missing pieces shouldn’t matter.”
Kerry cleared his throat. “Are you going to do it tonight, then?”
“No, I’d rather wait until full daylight. Right now the things to do are set up camp and get some shut-eye so we can do this thing right in the morning.”
Kerry smiled. Full daylight would be about eleven hours away. That was eleven more hours during which Hugh might change his mind.
KERRY’S hopes were shattered when Hugh threw open the trailer doors the next morning and heaved the tarp of bones inside.
“What are you looking so glum about?” Hugh asked as he slid out the restoration chamber door of the casket-like machine and dumped in the bones. Kerry winced. “This thing was designed for humans.”
“Yes, I know. Did I tell you that some of Horton’s cats died?”
Hugh slid the compartment shut. His eyes took on the countenance of stone. “Is there a reason that you didn’t?”
Kerry pretended to examine a bit of sand that had gotten stuck under one of his fingernails. “I assumed you had heard.”
The old man’s face remained cold. “What did they die from?”
“I don’t know. They thought that the machine might have put some things together the wrong way. Like a bad birth defect.”
“That’s very unfortunate.” Hugh gazed at the machine for a few long moments; then shook his head. “But imagine what this woman could teach us even if she were alive for only a few days.”
He threw the power switch. The machine began to whirr.
Kerry slipped back outside and sat down on an overturned bucket by their little pit. He hoped that this experiment would turn out well, if only to make Hugh happy. And if the woman did somehow regain all of her memories, she could indeed teach them much about the forgotten past. She would be history itself brought to life in human form.
The sun inched its way across the sky. The process would take several hours, at the least.
Kerry was not sure how the machine was able to read traces of DNA and reconstruct entire living organisms based on the genetic instructions that the DNA provided. All he knew was that a small fan sucked air and water molecules into the machine, where they were to mingle with pre-installed canisters of carbon and other elements integral to life. Somehow, the DNA would tell the machine how to put all of the molecules together.
While Kerry waited for the inevitable, he picked through the sand to see what else may have been buried with the woman. It bothered him how her body had been laid to rest in such a manner. She had probably had loved ones. Loved ones would have interred her in a coff
in. Therefore, it was possible that the woman had been buried without her loved ones’ knowledge. What grief had they felt when their daughter or sister or wife failed to return home? Did they search for her? Did they care?
He noticed that a tiny object was poking out of the sand in one of the buckets. Kerry plucked it from the dirt and discovered that it was attached to a thin metal chain: a necklace, no doubt. He held the pendant up to examine it better in the sunlight. It was a simple piece of tarnished metal shaped like a lower-case T. He smirked. T for Treviño. Hugh would be so proud.
He pocketed the necklace and resumed looking through the sand, finding nothing else of interest.
A sudden cry issued from the trailer three minutes shy of noon.
Kerry jumped up and hurried to the open doors of the trailer. Hugh was frantically turning off switches and trying to open the restoration chamber drawer to let the woman out.
“Here.” Kerry slid the drawer open, revealing a young, dark-haired woman lying in an inch of grayish water. She stared at him with accusing eyes the color of chocolate and made an anguished moan in her throat.
Hugh reached his arm out to her, obviously wishing to help her climb out of the drawer; but she stared at his hand as if it were the most vile object in all of creation.
“It’s okay,” Hugh said softly. “Come on.”
She stared at the hand a moment longer; then looked at his face. She drew her legs up and climbed out of the drawer on her own.
Kerry found himself awestruck by the sight of the resuscitated woman. Her bronze skin was unmarred by blemishes, like the skin of an infant. She looked no older than twenty. She did not appear to be disturbed by his ridiculous fascination with her.
“When you’re done gawking like a teenaged idiot,” Hugh said, “could you kindly be a gentleman and get the lady something to wear?”
“Yes. Of course.” Kerry felt his face heat up. This was like his adolescent years all over again; making a total fool of himself in front of an attractive member of the gentler sex, much to the laughter of his peers. At least this lady didn’t seem to care as the other girls had.
He went to the tent and rummaged through his pack, finding a spare work shirt and some flannel pants he’d worn to bed. Both would be enormous on the woman. Both would have to do.
The woman was standing in the doorway of the trailer, seemingly oblivious of her nudity. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she gazed off into the distance as if trying to spot something that was out of sight below the horizon.
“Here, put these on,” Kerry said as he handed her the too-big garments.
She reached out a slender arm and fingered the fabric with an almost childlike wonder. She furrowed her brow and glanced up into Kerry’s eyes.
“Go on,” he said. “We won’t watch you.”
He gestured for Hugh to follow him away from the trailer. Hugh shrugged and tore his own gaze away from the woman.
“Spill it,” Kerry said when they were safely out of earshot. “Something is bothering you.”
“If you’ll have noticed, she hasn’t spoken a word since we let her out of that contraption,” Hugh said in a low voice. “I’m not so sure she understands us.”
“I would say that’s one of many things she doesn’t understand. And why should she understand what we’re saying? Languages alter considerably over time.” He paused. “Did she say something before we let her out?”
“Well, you obviously heard her shout, since you came running.”
“It only sounded like someone yelling.”
“It was a word. Sounded like el-lo-heem.”
“Do you know what it means?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. It could be a swear word, for all I know.”
Kerry felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned. “Why, hello there.”
The woman was standing behind him. She looked silly in Kerry’s clothes, but at least she had figured out how to put them on.
“Are you going to talk to us now?” Hugh asked.
Kerry shot him a warning glance. He was sure that the woman’s muteness did not stem from a stubborn demeanor, as Hugh would have implied. “Can you tell us what your name is?” he asked.
The woman cocked her head. The whites of her eyes had turned red from her weeping.
“Maybe we should let it rest for now,” Kerry said to Hugh. Women were mysterious creatures, and many would not be so willing to open up to strangers. Especially ones who had just seen them undressed.
To his surprise, the woman covered her face with her hands and sank to the ground. Kerry crouched down beside her and put a hand on her bobbing shoulder. “It’s okay now. We are your friends. We won’t hurt you.”
She threw him a tear-streaked look of disgust. Again, he was reminded of the various times in school when he had unsuccessfully asked different girls out to dinner.
“She almost seems upset to be alive,” Hugh commented. “You would think she’d be grateful.”
“Yes, you would think.”
“But perhaps she isn’t aware that she died. In fact, I’m almost sure of it. This must be to her like awakening from a long night’s sleep. She probably wonders who on earth we are.”
“Then we should introduce ourselves.” Kerry had never been good at introductions. However, he did not think that the woman would be aware of his inadequate social skills. He smiled at her. She did not return the favor, for she was studying him again with that angry gaze. “My name is Kerry Wellington. Can you say Kerry? Ker-ry.” He pointed to himself with the hope she would make the connection.
The muscles in the woman’s mouth twitched as they struggled to form the words. “Keh-reee,” she said. “Keh-reee-well…welli…” She grimaced as if speaking were causing her pain.
“Well, that’s not bad for a first try. I’m sure you’ll get better at it.” He pointed at Hugh, who had crossed his arms and lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “And this here is my friend, Hugh Treviño. Can you say that, too?”
The woman took a deep breath. “Hoo-te-vee-nyo.”
“Hugh, knock that look off your face. You should be celebrating.”
“There’s nothing to celebrate,” Hugh scoffed. “She’s only repeating the things you say.”
The woman pointed at herself in clear defiance of his criticism. “Meer-yam.”
Kerry almost laughed. “Repeating, huh?”
But Hugh was already ignoring him. “Miriam?” he said to the woman. “Did you say your name is Miriam?”
The woman showed her teeth in a humorless smile. “Meer-yam. Meeryam.”
“Miriam, can you tell us what el-lo-heem is?”
Her fake smile swiftly transformed itself into a wistful one. More tears glistened in her eyes. “Elohim,” she said. The new smile was instantly replaced by a look of rage. “Elohim!” she screamed, jumping to her feet. “Wyoot eykmi weyfrom Elohim?” She kicked sand at them and ran.
Kerry watched her receding figure, amazed by the swiftness at which Miriam’s moods had changed. Was this the typical workings of a resuscitated mind? It was said that some of Horton’s cats had exhibited peculiar behavior before they died. Perhaps Miriams’s hours were already numbered and she would soon return to the dust from which she had been raised.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Hugh said, interrupting Kerry’s thoughts.
“Oh! No, I’ll get her.” Kerry started to feel as though he deserved a Fool of the Year award. “Miriam, please stop!” he called, running after her. He caught up to her in less than a minute and grabbed her by the shoulders. He whirled her around to face him. She began to squirm to get away, so he tightened his grip. “Calm down,” he said, pitying her for the fear she must have felt. “We only want to ask you some things about the way you used to live.”
She stopped struggling. Her gaze bored into his with the intensity of lightning. “No.”
Kerry was more taken aback than amazed by her comprehension. “No?”
“Yooar a fool.”
Evidently, Miriam understood more about him than he had expected. “Your people are gone. Maybe you didn’t know that. But they are. We know very little about them. My friend and I were hoping you could give us some answers.”
“Is vapors,” she said. “Wha tyoo do is waste.”
Oddly, Miriam’s speech was becoming clearer with each word she spoke, like she was slowly regaining her knowledge of language. Still, since her words made little sense, there may have been some kind of communication error; perhaps from a difference in dialects.
“How is our job wasteful?” Kerry asked. Archaeologists were generally praised for their efforts where he came from. Miriam’s criticism was as unexpected as her sudden ability to speak.
Miriam pursed her lips. “Then is dead.”
“What?”
“Then is dead. Truth lives. Why ask for then instead of truth? The truth will set you free.”
This was madness. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
She waved her arms. “Vapors. Like smoke. Watch smoke too long, it stings your eyes. How can you see truth, when you are blind?”
Kerry sighed and glanced toward the trailer, where Hugh was waiting for them with crossed arms. He doubted that the old man would be able to comprehend this any better than he. “What kind of truth are you talking about?”
“Elohim. The way. The life. Then is not the truth.”
This conversation was going nowhere. “Come on, let’s get back to our little camp. Maybe you’ll start making more sense if you’ve had something to eat.”
MIRIAM would not eat.
She also refused to speak in anything other than her enigmatic gibberish.
Hugh decided that they had remained in one place for long enough, so Kerry helped him load everything back into the trailer before someone from the base found them. They set off again toward the fabled ruins, hoping to reach them by two o’ clock.
“So, when were you born?” Hugh asked as they cruised along the bumpy desert floor faster than Kerry would have advised.