The Days of Peleg (58 page)

He paused for emphasis and peered forcefully into Peleg’s eyes.

“
More seeds
!” he concluded loudly with a triumphant wave of his hands.

Peleg looked down at his hand and stared dumbly at the little seed, which was wrapped in a flimsy film, and which he could easily crush into powder with his fingers. It was all so incomprehensible. And yet…

“Young Peleg,” Shem continued. “You will have to decide whether some mystical, superstitious
Lifeforce
can turn
that
into a tree, or if technology and innovation far beyond anything you could ever imagine is responsible. Either the material which makes up life has mystical, nature-defying properties, or it is comprised of the same elements as the rest of the universe.”

He paused and looked skyward.

“You see, we are all ‘made from the dust of the earth.’” He finished as if he were reciting a sacred adage.

Peleg’s mind was being challenged like never before, and it didn’t help that the issues he faced were coming from this crazed captor. The conclusions that were being forced upon him created a major revolt in his thinking; yet, he couldn’t deny that trees came from seeds just like the one between his fingers.

Shem was speaking again.

“…of course, animals use eggs instead of seeds, and then there are spores and other methods, but the concept is the same.”

A faint rustle in the foliage caused them to look up. Bernifal was coming towards them in the distance, moving up the hill. He seemed to be holding a staff from which sparkled an assortment of diamond-covered leaves.

As he drew near, Peleg realized that it was actually the spit from the previous evening, and skewered on it was an assortment of the prettiest, rainbow-colored fish that Peleg had ever seen. The sunlight refracted on their scales and created a dazzling mosaic of miniature prisms which winked out the moment Bernifal stepped into the shade. Some were still squirming slightly as Bernifal came close and held his catch up for them to see.

Shem rushed to collect some kindling, while Bernifal collected three smaller branches, carefully selecting ones that had a distinct fork in them.

Soon a small fire was burning, hidden under the trees, with its smoke diffusing through the branches. Peleg was so hungry, his dislike for fish did not concern him. He had noticed that, since his bout with starvation, he was not nearly as concerned about his culinary likes and dislikes. Bernifal handed him a stick, and Peleg watched as he skewered a fish onto the forks at the end, and stretched it out over the fire to roast it.

Soon it seemed ready to eat, and Peleg was pleasantly shocked to discover that he actually enjoyed this fresh-water mountain fish as he manually filleted strips off of its back. Shem and Bernifal were busy chewing, and he inquired with his eyes if he might have another.

“Absolutely,” said Shem through a mouthful of seared fish. “Bernifal caught many.”

He reached for the staff which still contained five fish and removed one. It was soon cooking over the fire while Peleg eagerly anticipated his second helping.

Bernifal produced a small leather bag and presented them with a collection of wild berries and nuts. He poured some into each of their hands, and the three travelers munched contentedly as evening fell.

“We will sleep here tonight,” said Shem.

Peleg nodded, and thought about his aching knees. Hopefully they would spend less time walking along the mountainside tomorrow.

He watched as Shem moved his two bags beside himself and began preparing a sleeping space.

“What do you have in your bags?” asked Peleg impulsively.

Shem looked up and grinned as if holding a big secret.

“
This
bag,” he said, raising the one on his right, “contains a few personal items that I managed to escape with,
plus
a most valued and unique possession from before the Great Flood.”

His voice betrayed immense sentimental value. He reached into the bag and pulled out a smaller one, which he opened. He motioned for Peleg to come closer.

When Peleg was near, he poured out the contents carefully onto the ground. Out spilled the most beautiful collection of polished colored pebbles that Peleg had ever seen, and he realized they were the same stones that had rested on the small platform in Shem’s quarters. They had been arranged in a complex pattern at the time, but he had been unable to discern the many colors because of the lighting.

“Have you ever seen stones like this?” Shem asked, but continued speaking before Peleg could respond.

“No, you have not,” he said, answering his own question, “Because they don’t exist anymore—at least not on the surface.”

He looked up from the pebbles at Peleg.

“Stones such as these adorned our landscape, and I collected these samples before our voyage. All such surfaces were destroyed and folded into the bowels of the earth during the Great Flood, and if any of these minerals survived, they exist far below.”

He looked back at his collection, almost wistfully.

“No such collection exists today, or is even possible. These are a unique and solitary remnant of the world that perished.”

He collected them carefully and placed them in the small bag. He then reached into the larger one.

“However, I do have a few personal items, one of which you might be able to use.”

He brought out a clenched hand which he opened in front of Peleg.

It was an obsidian!

Peleg had lost his when the
Urbat
went down, and he had resigned himself to remaining unshaven for the rest of his life. Shem’s obsidian had a good wedge for gripping, and he tentatively touched the edge and could tell that the slightest move would slice a neat line into his fingertip.

“If you go now, you will have enough sunlight to return,” Shem said. “The river is just below us.”

“I thank you,” said Peleg. “You have no idea how awful this feels.” He stroked at his unkempt beard, enjoying the thought of removing it.

Peleg returned just as the stars were becoming visible, feeling like a new man. He had washed, shaved, and even swam a little in the cold mountain stream.

The fire had been extinguished, and Shem was already asleep. Bernifal waved him in, and soon Peleg arranged his bearskin and fell fast asleep.

Bernifal woke them about three hours after mid-night, and presented them with more berries. Peleg was surprised, but apparently it was time to start moving again. They walked under the brilliant night sky, watching meteors and enjoying the expansive silence around them. Fortunately, they were walking predominantly downhill, and Peleg’s aching knees appreciated it.

As they walked, Peleg returned Shem’s obsidian. Shem responded by handing Peleg the second bag—the one he hadn’t opened the evening before.

“I was going to give this to you earlier,” said Shem, “but you were so excited about shaving that I didn’t have a chance.”

Peleg opened the bag, but even in the dim starlight, he didn’t need much of a hint to identify its contents.

All of his charts, notes, and instruments which he had taken with him in his fall from
Zini
were inside! They were rolled carefully, and Peleg had a sudden urge to give Shem a huge hug!

“Thank you so much!” he exclaimed, his voice sounding louder than normal in the empty morning air.

“I was only able to collect a few things,” said Shem, “but your travels and my stones seemed to be the most important items at the time.”

An excitement that had been foreign to Peleg for many months suddenly returned, and he almost felt as if a new life somehow lay ahead of him.

As the sun rose, they continued, and Shem seemed most anxious for speed. He set the pace, and although it was not excessive, it was relentless. Peleg began to dislike Shem’s long legs. He had never walked consistently at this speed before.

This became their daily routine. Bernifal would wake them with a morning snack about three hours before daybreak. They would walk briskly with very few breaks until late in the afternoon when Bernifal would again find food, and they would make camp in a covered, enclosed area.

Peleg would have liked to begin linguistic discussions with Bernifal, but he was constantly running ahead, disappearing for hours at a time, but always returning with different varieties of nourishment at the appropriate times. Peleg suspected he was scouting as well as hunting.

Unfortunately, their fast pace made it difficult to maintain a conversation, so they trudged mostly in silence as they journeyed across the mountains and along the rivers. Shem seemed quite confident about where he was going, and there was never any time for Peleg to properly use his instruments as they traveled.

Once, on a particularly chilly evening, Peleg had commented on the coolness of the mountain air. Shem had responded by saying that the entire world was becoming colder all the time, and, in fact, this entire region would be completely covered by
šeg
within a few hundred years.

Peleg shivered violently in memory of the painful cold during his south polar passage. It was impossible to imagine such a foreign substance covering this beautiful terrain. Shem had laughed and slapped him on the back, saying that they would be in Uruk in a few months.

Peleg had little interest in visiting Uruk, but once there, he would be in familiar territory and hopefully would find a way to leave Shem and return to the
Citadel
. Now that he had his charts and records, he was once again confident of a celebratory welcome.

They were in another cave.

Shem used the term ‘decoy-cave’ again, and explained that these were set up at various locations, and, although they were hidden, they were meant to be found. No one lived in them, but they were maintained with the appearance of habitation. If attackers came upon them, they would assume the people had fled.

The weather had been pleasant during the seven days it had taken them to arrive here, but a huge thunderstorm had begun that evening, and they had just made it to the cave around midnight before the dark, overcast skies began to release their water.

Bernifal started a small fire, and then produced some small horned owls which he had caught earlier that night. He placed them on spits, and soon they were suspended over the bright flames.

Peleg noticed paintings on the walls similar to those in the previous cave.

“We let our children paint animals to give these caves a lived-in look,” Shem explained.

They finished their meal with raspberries that Shem and Peleg had collected that afternoon as they walked, and the three men prepared for a restful night as the thunder pounded overhead and torrents of rain could be heard crashing into the foliage outside of the cave.

Peleg was hoping for another discussion with Shem. Although he still did not trust this tall man from before the Great Calamity, Shem’s ideas were beyond anything he had ever considered, (or been taught at the
Citadel
), and regardless of this manic Mentor’s mental state, Peleg realized he enjoyed the feeling of intellectual expansion that always accompanied their talks. He was sure he could sort out the fact from the fantasy later.

As they rested, listening to the storm, Peleg tried to find a way to instigate such a conversation, but Shem spared him the trouble.

“I believe,” he began, “that I have a promise to keep.”

Peleg raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

“I told you earlier that humans possessed a unique ability that went ‘beyond the laws of nature’,” he continued. “You asked for clarification, and I promised to explain at a later time. I will do so now.”

Peleg nodded, surprised at his own eagerness.

“First I must demonstrate, specifically, which laws I meant,” said Shem.

He reached for his leather bag of precious antediluvian stones, and rolled down the edges of the bag so that Peleg could look inside. The flickering firelight reflected off the walls of the cave and poured into the bag, and as Peleg watched, the pebbles seemed to pulse and incandesce with colors that were unlike any that ought to be associated with mere rocks. This was the first time he had seen them up close, and he looked up at Shem, waiting for the demonstration to continue.

Shem reached for the nearby wall and cleared a space on the ground with his arm. Then he shoved his hand into the bag, grabbed a handful of pebbles, and tossed them against the wall where they clattered and fell, ricocheting and bouncing into each other until they eventually came to a chaotic rest on the cleared floor space.

Shem pointed.

“What do you see?” he demanded.

Peleg thought for a moment, and then decided on the obvious.

“A random assortment of rocks on the ground.”

Shem smiled broadly, apparently receiving the answer he wanted.

“Perfect!” he said. His smile suddenly vanished and was replaced by a scowl.

“… But
wrong
,” he concluded.

Peleg sat stupefied for a moment as Shem sat still, refusing to explain.

After a few more painful moments, Shem spoke.

“Did they teach you about causality at the
Citadel
?”

“Do you mean ‘cause and effect’?”

“Yes,” replied Shem.

He pointed to the pebbles on the floor.

“I want you to understand that the position of each one of the pebbles was predetermined at the moment they left my hand. Not predictable—just predetermined.”

Peleg started to protest, but Shem continued.

“If I were to arrange the pebbles in exactly the same manner in my hand, and were to release them with exactly the same timing, force, and manner, the laws of nature would control them from that moment on. They would fall into the wall at the same points, bounce in the same directions, collide with each other as before, and eventually arrive at the same locations as each stone submitted to the laws of inertia, friction, and reaction.”

Peleg tried to process this as Shem continued.

“Of course,” he said, “everything would need to be exact. There is no way I could duplicate the exact arrangement in my hand, or control my muscles in such a way as to reproduce the place and manner of release or trajectory precisely. However, I hope you understand my premise.
If
, everything were performed exactly as before, the outcome would be the same.”