Human (37 page)

“Ha!” Ivy descended victorious, sticky and smelling thoroughly like dung. She winked at Rinap and tapped her gently on the nose. “And who doubted me then?”

Rinap grinned and pulled Ivy’s face down to rub against her own forehead affectionately. “I knew you could do it.” She let Ivy go and raised her voice, “You’re still big and ugly though!” She ducked Ivy’s hand and ran ahead, cackling.

The walk was long but passed quickly as the girls chatted. They headed steadily north-east. Ivy glanced at Filhia, who showed no sign that her heavy baskets were a burden. Ivy shifted her own uncomfortably. Rinap caught Ivy’s eye with a reassuring smile and disappeared in a protective sweep of the surrounds. If there was an ambush by the karathah, they would be forewarned.

When they arrived at the fringe of a small clearing, Ivy quickly retreated, scanning the hazy undergrowth ahead. The prospect of coming face to face with more hobbits was exciting, but she knew how intimidating she looked. She’d wait for Phren to make introductions first.

“Where are they?” Ivy asked.

“Gone. They will return at the mid morning sun,” Rinap said.

In the centre of the clearing, a wide, flat stone was already piled with woven bags and gourds. The girls milled around the stone while Phren inspected it.
Salt. Shellfish. Fruit. Fish. Bone plates with ornamental grooves.
Ivy had noted that, with the exception of Phren, none of the hobbits wore ornamental jewellery. Comparing the marking on the plate, to those on the beads around Phren's neck, she realised that the jewellery was from the other tribe.

“It is an acceptable trade” Phren announced finally. “Let us see if the others agree.”

Ivy unloaded her bags onto the stone. The women retreated to the cover of the forest to wait.

“Why are we hiding?” Ivy asked.

“It’s a silent trade,” Leihna explained. “We take our goods to the offering stone and leave it for them. If the other tribe have already left theirs and it's fair, then we take it and it's done. But if we think our trade is worth more than theirs, then we leave the stone untouched and they will add a new offering. If they want more from us, we add to ours. And so it goes on until both tribes feel we have equal value. When we are happy with it, we take their offering home, or they take ours.”

“So you never see them at all?”

“Well…” Leihna twisted her long toes into the grass. “We don’t always leave straight away. Sometimes we stay to watch.” Rinap and Filhia listened to the exchange with restless feet.

“I don’t understand why you don’t speak to them. They could help you -” Ivy started. Rinap choked on a scoffing laugh.

“You’ll see why, Hiranah. Just wait,” she said.

To pass the time, Kyah drew lexigrams in the dirt. The girls copied her. They already recognized at least fifty of the signs Kyah used to communicate. Ants bit at their toes in the mulch, their food trail disturbed and broken. Slow minutes passed and the insects eventually dispersed, punctuated and harassed by Kyah’s prodding finger.

“They’re coming.”

Ivy looked up, through the veil of forest in front of her into the clearing.

Homo sapiens.
Two young women stepped from the northern tree line. Ivy sucked in a breath and tried to scramble for her spear.

“Karathah!” Ivy hissed. The girls pulled her back to the ground.

“It’s alright, Hiranah,” Phren hushed. “We’re safe. This is women’s business; it always has been.”

“What?!” How could such a contradiction exist? Why trade with the
Homo sapiens
that multiplied so prolifically, stealing their forest and food? Not only that, but why risk another brush with the violence that had marred their recent history? “But they’re dangerous,” Ivy hissed, “and Krue
hates
the karathah!”

“Krue isn’t allowed here, he is a man,” Rinap said. “Besides, the karathah girls never even see us. It’s a
silent
trade.” She shook her head, as if stating the obvious. If Rinap shared any of Ivy's concern, she didn't show it.

Ivy was astounded. She looked at the karathah girls again.
I haven't seen another human for three weeks. At least, one that reaches past my waist…

Clothes.
Although Ivy shouldn't have been surprised, she had grown so accustomed to the near-nakedness of the hobbits, clothes suddenly seemed a novelty. The karathah women’s hide wraps were longer than the hobbit girls’ and better crafted. Ivy guessed Shahn had used them for inspiration in making Ivy’s more modest version of her own utilitarian one. The women themselves were tall and lithe. Their dark brows were painted red and shells tinkled as they moved.
Decoration. Symbolism. The beginnings of art unfurling across the globe.
Ivy fought back the urge to approach them.
Humans.
No, there were other humans here too.
Homo sapiens.
Although these women felt so fundamentally familiar to Ivy, it was actually their kinship to her that was their biggest threat.

“I just don’t understand,” Ivy whispered. “Is it really necessary to put yourself at risk like this?”

Phren's fingers found the string of beads hanging from her neck and rolled them gently between her fingers. “We women have traded with the karathah women for a very long time. It is only the last few seasons that their hunters are coming into our territory and becoming violent. Something’s changed.” Phren closed her fist tight around her necklace and looked at Ivy, resolute. “This is a risk, but a necessary one, Hiranah. It’s better for us to bring them what they need, than to give them a reason to come looking for it. This way, we keep them away from the oleos grove and Home River. Besides,” Phren said, trying to pull her arthritic back straighter and lifting her jaw, “We can’t hide from them forever. If we have any hope of survival, the karathah must see us as equals. At least when we trade, we have that.”

Ivy frowned and shifted her arm, surreptitiously breaking their thought connection.
Homo sapiens have no equals.

The karathah women moved confidently around the stone. Neither could be more than eighteen years old. The taller girl with long black hair ornamented by strings of turquoise feathers began gathering the bags, apparently deeming the trade acceptable. Once done, they disappeared back into the trees.

“Let's leave,” Phren said. Rinap, Filhia and Leihna skipped to the stone and began to fill bags.

Ivy followed the girls into the open glade, carrying Kyah on her hip with her spear in her free hand. Kyah’s long arms twisted affectionately around Ivy’s neck.

A terrified scream shattered the forest. Then a second wail that continued over the first, sending birds screeching in fright.

Ivy spun around, her heart racing as she sought the danger. She reflexively hugged Kyah close to her body as Rinap appeared beside her with a spear held high. She pointed.

The two karathah women were crouched, frozen, in the shadows. Their mouths gaped in horror and it broke Ivy’s heart just a bit when she realised they were staring directly at
her
. The screams began anew. Ivy stumbled back in shock.
They’re terrified of me.

The youngest karathah woman scrambled to her feet and tore away into the tree cover, leaving the other to fend for herself. For the briefest moment, the taller girl hesitated. She was alone. The azure feathers in her hair floated against her lips as she stared from Ivy across to Filhia. Even across the distance between them, Ivy saw concern and fear for the littlest hobbit girl in her eyes. But when she turned back to Ivy, the woman’s face blanched. She took in the bonobo’s body connected to Ivy's hip then wailed a string of babbled words and began scrambling backwards through the ferns.

“No! Please!” Ivy cried, running toward her. But the hand Ivy raised still held her spear and the woman with blue feathers shuddered even more violently at the sight of her. She screeched again, struggling for her footing as Ivy tossed her own spear to the ground, still running.

Petrified at the sudden turn of events, Kyah exposed her teeth in a grimace of fear and arced violently backward in Ivy's arms trying to escape. They bent together, imbalanced, as Ivy tried to support her weight, like a twisted, two-headed beast.

The sight was too much. The karathah woman launched up from the ground with heaving breaths, tripping and flailing in her desperation to escape. A wisp of blue feathers and the girl was gone.

Orrin pushed through the glass doors of the Social Sciences building. The memory of Ivy’s amulet, dirty and cast aside in a specimen bag, brought a feeling of lead to his stomach. But he was sure it was hers. So if
it
existed, so did she. And he had a plan.

He rounded the corner past the small university museum, sidestepping a display stand of tribal masks. He was hammering on the door of the Archaeology Residue Laboratory within a minute. Orrin paused and took a deep breath, remembering his last confrontation with Jayne.
Pull yourself together. You need this.
The security keypad by the door lock ensured he would never get it without her help.

“Hang on,” a voice called. A bench stool scraped across the linoleum and the door opened revealing Jayne’s sunny face. When she saw Orrin, the smile dropped instantly.

“I don’t have time for you,” Jayne said, pushing the door closed again. Orrin shoved his foot in the crack, jarring it open. She looked at him angrily.

“Please Jayne, wait -” Orrin pleaded, “I’m really sorry about the other day. It wasn’t like me at all - I swear I’m actually a socially acceptable person. Or at least I used to be.” He smiled as sincerely as he could. “I just want to talk for a minute. I need your help… your professional
opinion
. You can leave the door open - and I’ll go as soon as you ask me to, I swear to Jaysus. Please?”

Jayne looked at Orrin doubtfully, eyeing the busy corridor. She sighed.

“Okay, I suppose if there are witnesses to your insanity,” she said. “Although I’ve already told you I don’t know this Ivy or any chimp, so I don’t know what help I can give you.” She retreated to her bench and sat down. Leaving the lab door wide open, Orrin dragged a chair opposite her and took a deep breath.

“Right. Here’s the thing. What I’m going to tell you will sound nuts.”

“You don’t say.”

“No, I mean, I honestly thought I
was
a header until last night. But you can prove me sane.”

Jayne raised an eyebrow. “Unlikely. But go on,” she said.

“Okay, it’s like this,” Orrin said. The woman I’m looking for, Ivy, she used to work in this lab. Up until last week, I swear she used to work right here, on these stone tools from Flores, with you.” He noted Jayne’s pursed lips and tight eyes. “I know, I know, you’re the only one working on these tools – please just hear me out.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what went wrong, but she’s gone now. It’s like she never existed. She worked here for eight years and there’s no sign of her anywhere. I’ve been through every journal article, every dissertation, every reference to work she mentioned. She even told me about you Jayne, she told me about your supervisor, Professor Ellermy.”

“Ellery,” Jayne corrected, looking impatient.

“Sure, Ellery, sorry.” Orrin rubbed his eyes under his black framed glasses, not sure this was going as well as he’d hoped. His bruised nose ached and he knew he looked a mess. “Just hear me out, there’s more. Ivy was an animal rights activist. There was a chimp, no; I mean a
bonobo
, which she sort-of looked after from the behavioural sciences lab. Anyway I went there, hoping I might find her and the bonobo was gone too. They’re both gone.” An edge of pity entered Jayne’s eyes.
Shite.

Orrin braced himself to divulge the final thing he felt sure would snap her remaining shred of respect for him.

“The thing is, the bonobos weren’t just gone. They were
replaced
. There was this hobbit creature there, a tiny wee animal, like people, only with a round face and long arms…”

To his surprise, Jayne cut him off. “
Homo floresiensis.
I’ve seen them. I don’t know about any bonobos, but the hobbits were brought in a year ago for behavioural research. Liam told me they were here, he knew my research would involve analysing their subsistence patterns and thought I might be interested in seeing them.”

Orrin’s relief was palpable. “Jaysus! You saw them? You know they’re here?”

“How could I not know they’re here?” Jayne said. “They’re a little hard to miss. Liam’s been using them as a platform for his animal rights campaigning. He thinks they should be allowed basic human rights - that they should be exempt from experimentation and exploitation. There are a lot of environmentalists pushing for preservation of their natural habitat too, although it’s well and truly too little, too late for that.”

“But – how do you know Liam?” Orrin asked. “I assumed Ivy introduced the two of you.”

“I know a lot of people,” she said, bristling. “As it happens we met at a faculty event. For a while we - hang on, how is this even relevant?”

“I guess it’s not,” sighed Orrin. “Just a coincidence. Ivy introduced me to Liam. I really don’t know him, but I think I should tell you – I saw him yesterday at a rally in the city, he looked ill set.” Orrin hesitated, not sure whether to continue.