The Days of Peleg Read online

  His pursuers were in pain, but temporary blindness was not going to stop them. Peleg took one last look around, and bolted for the long staircase on the far side of the room. He looked up, and in the last dying light, he noted the top of the staircase and ran, taking them two steps at a time.

  Upon reaching the top, the pitch-black had returned, and he resumed his mission: Keep moving upward. Some kind of alarm-siren sequence began to sound, and he didn’t need to be a linguist to know what it was announcing:

  The escaped prisoner is in this corridor!

  He sought frantically for the best way upward. He would not allow himself to be captured again!

  The primary objective of these people seemed to be preventing any knowledge of their existence from entering the outside world. And, of course, his mission was to report it. He must also be on the lookout for the possibility that these underground dwellers might be a link to the Race of Semyaz, from before the Great Calamity! From what he had seen earlier, they might even provide the hereditary resources needed to reverse the degeneration that was threatening the rest of humanity.

  But that was his other mission.

  A blast of warm air hit him on the left side of his face, and he turned towards an air duct. Feeling his way to the other side of the corridor, he followed the breeze until he located the opening. He reached inside and found a grate which he grabbed onto. He tried to pull it out, but it wouldn’t budge. The warm air roared around him as he kept struggling. Finally, in desperation, he gave it a huge push, and the grate snapped out of place and fell tumbling down the shaft. He couldn’t hear when it hit bottom, but he immediately grabbed the upper lip and lifted his legs to push them through the opening. The inside of the shaft should be rough stone, and he had certainly done his share of mountain climbing. The speed of the air rushing past him convinced him that this shaft would go all the way to the surface. He was on his way.

  Strong arms grabbed him from behind. He hadn’t heard their approach because of the wind. As they hauled him out onto the floor, he instinctively crossed his arms, protecting the documents, maps, and instruments which were secured away in his chest pack. He wiggled his shoulders, trying to get back up, but he was pinned. Someone began tying his feet together. Then there was a hand in his face. A sharp ‘Snap!’ and a foul odor from a broken capsule filled his nostrils. His one last fading thought:

  Who Are You?

  Fog. Green fog. Translucent damp green vapors intruded on his murky thoughts, shivering and climbing, attempting to break into consciousness.

  A pale green light seeped through his eyelids. Peleg opened his eyes and tried to bring the far wall into focus, but couldn’t.

  That must have been some drug. The wall is moving!

  The surface of the wall was wavering and shimmering, but as he finally forced his eyes to clear and focus, he realized that the wall really was moving.

  The foggy, dampness in the room was due to the quiet waterfall that flowed down the face of the far wall; its surface shimmering and refracting the light from a glowing, green, bioluminescent light panel which was attached near the doorway. He had seen such panels before. He wasn’t sure whether these people collected luminescent marine life and contained them, or if the panel was some kind of plant that had been force-fed luciferin—a chemical found in many bioluminescent insects.

  He had seen experiments like this at home, and often the altered plants would glow with an ebb and flow in response to their circadian rhythm. He would have to ask Thaxad—if the tall, brooding chemist had survived.

  His previous room had been cold and dry. This one was cold and wet. A perfect environment for hypothermia. His ankles were fastened in a type of stone stockade, and his wrists were clamped securely to the frame where he and his mat were laying. He realized with dismay that he had been stripped down to his undergarments, and that all of his charts, documents, and instruments were gone. Of course, the bulk of his research had gone down with the ship, but the items that he always carried with him, and always used when communicating, had been removed.

  Twelve years. For twelve years he had been the Chief Cartographer, sent out on a Global Mission by the High Minister of Knowledge himself. He had been part of an elite scientific team; an expedition to explore and research the paths that humanity had taken since the Great Awakening. He had cataloged new languages, charted new continents, and even (serendipitously) discovered amazing water routes which would be of enormous commercial value. His official mission had been an overwhelming success. However, if he didn’t escape from this place, it would all be for nothing. He had every reason to assume the rest of the crew of the Urbat had perished.

  A short, but muscular male with a large, protruding forehead, powerful forearms, and wide shoulders entered the room, carrying a second glow panel.

  The forehead perplexed Peleg. Such foreheads were only seen on Mentors, but Mentors were usually much taller than this person.

  This man had a long nose, was clean-shaven with long, well-groomed hair, and was wearing a fur kilt with leather boots. A thin leather sash draped across his powerful chest and he wore a small seashell necklace. Wrapped around his head was a thin headband, or perhaps a small skullcap. (It was difficult to tell in the dim green light.) He attached the panel to the wall next to the first, and then bent down and released Peleg’s wrists. Peleg tried to speak, but the man deliberately ignored him, turned, and exited the room.

  When the man turned away, Peleg’s heart jumped. When he had raised his arm to attach the light panel, Peleg had clearly seen small rippling muscle-knots just under his rhomboids.

  This was one of the indicators that Felpag had spoken of! He sat up on his “bed”, a crazy idea entering his mind. Perhaps the Watchers were not destroyed after all, but were now hiding in these underground communities?

  He shrugged off the thought. There was no way that a superior, vanished strain of humanity would be living isolated in these caves. Besides, how could they “watch” from deep underground?

  Another young boy with similar stature to the first, but slightly taller and also with a long nose, entered his room. He strode directly in front of Peleg and pointed to the two light panels.

  “Your visual handicap requires more light.”

  The line was delivered quickly, as if he had been rehearsing it for some time, and the boy gave no indication that he understood the words he was speaking. Peleg began to nod, but the boy looked sharply at him and continued his recitation.

  “You are to be our guest. We will provide your food and physical needs. You will complete your life here.”

  The boy dropped a small parcel on the ground, turned quickly, and left the room.

  Peleg yelled, “Wait!” and strained to follow, but his ankles were still fastened to the platform. He heard a grinding noise, and saw a stone panel being lowered across his doorway. As it hit the ground, there was a loud clank, and his ankle cuffs separated so he could remove his feet.

  Peleg got up, rubbed his ankles, and moved over to the bag. Inside was a fur kilt, some leather footwear, and what appeared to be a thin bearskin blanket. He sat on the floor as waves of futility and disillusion washed over him. His research was lost. No one knew where he was, and no one even knew of these people.

  A strange sounding flute began to play, echoing in the corridor beyond his cell. For a brief moment, he listened with anticipation, desperate for the slightest sensory hint of normalcy; but the unidentifiable material of the flute, and the grating, incomprehensible tuning only strengthened his sense of alienation and abandonment.

  His anger and despair deepened as he recalled the excitement which had surrounded the expedition’s genesis twelve years earlier, back in the Hall of Spheres at the Citadel.

  His journey was over.

  Chapter 2

  Proclamation

  “The Great Awakening demonstrated beyond any doubt the boundless psychic and creative powers of the Collective Subconscious.”

  Peleg snuck into t
he back of the Hall of Spheres, uncharacteristically late, where Reu-Nathor, Ul-Minister of Knowledge, had just started his dissertation. The marble walls were tiled in stones with a deep blue glaze, and speckled with sparkling tiny-jeweled facets. The walls slanted inward towards the ceiling, conforming to the Citadel ’s outer dimensions. Peleg had seen this hall when the lights were dimmed, and knew that these sparkling arrays outlined the constellations and were angled ever so slightly to create a soft halo above the room; which, of course, was directly below the Chamber of Heaven’s Gate.

  At the moment, though, the room was brightly lit by dozens of oil-lamps along the walls, illuminating a large, suspended mobile representing the four outer planets circling slowly just under the ceiling. (The special hall for Nabû and Inana was two levels down.)

  Peleg instinctively recited their names in his head. Nergal, Nibiru, Enki, and Ninurta. The bulges of Ninurta could be seen, although the orb was currently in the far corner of the room.

  From ages before the Great Calamity, the movements of these four outer planets had long been known, but since that event, Nibiru had never been seen again. For almost two hundred years, astronomers had searched for the phantom wanderer in vain. Peleg smiled slightly as he watched the orbs move overhead. We continue to pretend like it’s still there.

  High Minister Reu-Nathor was continuing his lecture.

  “…and here is where we discern the most amazing aspect of Lifeforce. The stagnation and lack of adventure which our forbearers demonstrated upon entering the new world stifled our intellect, and the resulting psychological and intellectual vacuum was very painful—leaving our psychic creativity with no room to grow.

  “But, as is the nature of Lifeforce, an adaptation presented itself. Just as breeding, domestication, and environmental pressures can bring about new species or physical variations, the aforementioned mental pressures and psychic starvation brought about new intellectual variations. Humanity’s collective subconscious rebelled, and in a relatively brief moment of time, new information, new mental pathways, and new realities were suddenly made available. Therefore, almost one hundred years ago, humanity experienced what I am calling a “Punctuated Linguistic Metasystem Transition”, or PLMT, using the same processes which brought about life from the sea, and also the initial emergence of intelligence in man.”

  A short pause, but not long enough to allow any applause.

  “I hereby declare the quest for a rational explanation of the Great Awakening complete!”

  The room erupted with a standing ovation and even some cheers—which this revered and solemn hall seldom heard. Peleg watched the ecstatic crowd and overheard a lady seated in front of him lean over and yell to her colleague, “Absolute Genius! No wonder he’s High Minister!”

  Reu-Nathor waited for the clamor to die down.

  “Thank you, thank you. I humbly appreciate your kind support. However, I have just one more thought in conclusion.

  “The PLMT was not without its price, and, just as all life processes need trials, hardship, and death to progress, so our society was torn apart and much was sacrificed for this glorious outcome. However, the goal of Lifeforce is always selection and improvement, and humanity now has unlimited options and infinite paths. Since language defines who we are and how we think, new ways of thinking, new frames of reference, and even new realities, if you will, are open to us. Already explorers have migrated to establish new cultures, new civilizations, and to chart the new world with excitement and abandon as never before. The cosmos has been opened to us!”

  After the second wave of applause had died down, the High Minister asked, “Are there any questions?”

  A man close to the front of the room raised his hand. Peleg recognized him as Mentor Salah, a proponent of Cosmic Plurality. The Mediator acknowledged him, and he spoke.

  “Thank you, High Minister. Your theory and accompanying explanations are, on the surface, very credible and I applaud you. As I am sure you know, there are reports and observations that the actual Great Awakening event took place in a very short period of time—perhaps overnight or even within a matter of minutes. I understand the word ‘Punctuated’ in your PLMT means ‘sudden’, but I seriously doubt that ‘punctuated’ could mean ‘within minutes’. Surely it is plausible that a change of this magnitude might require at least some external impetus. The idea of a jump that size in such a small amount of time without some external help strains credibility.”

  The Hall of Spheres was bathed in gripping silence. Questions of the High Minister of Knowledge happened rarely. Challenging him happened even less, and then, only a Mentor would dare. Mentor Salah had just declared the High Minister’s new solution to be impossible—in public, and the attendees waited to see what academic disciplinary action was forthcoming.

  Reu-Nathor scowled down at his feet, pondering, and then raised his head, regarding Salah with a kindly, paternalistic smile. It was the kind of loving gaze a father gives to his little boy after his son has just proclaimed that the wind is caused by trees, because when it blows, he can see branches moving.

  “My friend, Salah. How good of you to come today.”

  Salah nodded back politely as the High Minister continued.

  “I respect your wisdom and certainly your age. I even understand the great thought that goes into many of your historical scenarios.” The word he used was ‘scenarios’ but his inflexions made it sound like he had said ‘imaginary friends’. “But I must remind you, and those assembled here, that you have not had the benefit of the latest education or current advances in scientific deduction.”

  The woman in front of Peleg turned to the man beside her. “The High Minister is so caring and humble,” she muttered.

  “You’re right,” the man replied. “And patient. Mentor Salah should be sanctioned!”

  Reu-Nathor continued.

  “We of the Citadel have dedicated our lives in the pursuit of Knowledge and the elimination of superstition and myth. Much violence was done in the name of such erroneous beliefs prior to the Great Awakening, and our administration has seen the great learning and research that can be accomplished when we rid ourselves of the shackles of history and the ineptitude of subjectivity.”

  He paused to look around the room, encompassing everyone before he looked back at Mentor Salah and continued.

  “Mentor Salah, I will now give you four complete and separate answers to your question. Each answer is capable on its own merits to dispel your doubts, and I am sure you will be enlightened and edified; while those in attendance will rejoice with you as we all learn and grow.

  “First. Documentation from that time is sketchy and suspect, and often impervious to translation. The ensuing chaos left no clear records pertaining to actual times and durations. Relative to the great scope of cosmic time, the Great Awakening was instantaneous, but in all actuality it probably covered many weeks or even months; and, in fact, continues on today as we are constantly developing new lexicons and vocabularies.

  “Second. Individuals who actually experienced the Great Awakening may have noticed the effects immediately and assumed it happened to others around them at the same time. I’m sure that small pockets of people acquired their new abilities simultaneously, but this certainly does not mean that the overall phenomenon happened all at once.

  “Third. None of us know the depths and resources of Lifeforce. This sudden mental and informational shift was probably inevitable. Lifeforce abhors stagnation, removes it by any means necessary, and knows no inhibitions when it comes to achieving its goals. There are more than likely millions of other events which could have happened instead of the Great Awakening. We are most fortunate that the actual event carried with it a long-term beneficial change and not something far worse.”

  He stepped from behind the podium and moved towards the front of the stage, never taking his eyes off of Salah.

  “Finally, you ignore all of the submerged activity and hidden causes that were accumulating prior to the
Great Awakening. You question credibility, and say that the Great Awakening was highly improbable. I agree. Such an event could never happen suddenly and completely with nothing but random causes. But this great mountain of improbability can be scaled by all the small and seemingly insignificant actions, thoughts, and desires of all those leading up to it. This great accumulation of millions of small, invisible events finally culminated and gave us the psychic explosion we now call the Great Awakening! Believe me. We have done the calculations, and I assure you this is the case!”

  He finished with exuberance and aplomb, smiling warmly and raising his arms. The applause was immediate and decisive. The High Minister certainly had all the answers. Peleg wondered if “We” meant the High Minister and his Academicians, or if “We” referred solely to himself and his office.

  Mentor Salah’s hand went up again, quieting the clapping; and without waiting for the mediator, he spoke.

  “Excuse me, your Honor, but I was there.”

  Embarrassed silence gripped the auditorium. History was generally an avoided subject that was only discussed in the most clinical, scientific environment. Well-mannered people didn’t sit around discussing what happened in years past. It was much more socially acceptable—and expedient—to discuss and plan for the future. But worse than that, discussing one’s personal history—and where one used to live—was just plain vulgar and was the height of ego and self-aggrandizement.

  Reu-Nathor’s eyes snapped towards Salah. There was nothing paternalistic about his countenance now. Without the slightest pause he said, “Then you are a victim of a backward education and received your instruction in a tongue which Nature saw fit to eradicate.”

  His normally white face reddened with outrage, clashing with his thin, sandy hair. His angry gaze stayed fast on Salah.

  “Our research proves conclusively that all events in society, history, and pre-history occurred without the need or benefit of your ‘Other Worldly’ intervention!”