Forever-young Oscar, in a present-day prison cell, tells a story from his early life. As Diver, one of the first Homo sapiens, he’s the sole survivor of our people when our original home, Lake Makgadikgadi, dries up. Searching in vain for others, desperately lonely, he encounters a stranger with burning eyes, whose uncommon beauty calms Diver’s fears.
Fiery-eyed Geb is a godlike being allied with animals. At first, he’s charged with orchestrating Diver’s death. Nothing personal, he likes Diver, but duty comes first. For the moment, Diver is the last of our kind, and Geb is tasked with keeping it that way.
Before Diver outwits the prehistoric animals sent to kill him, Geb shows him their lives through the animals’ own eyes. When he defeats the animals, Diver regrets their loss. This opens Geb’s heart. He works to earn Diver’s trust, a difficult task considering their history and Geb’s spiritual constraints.
Courting Diver, Geb forsakes his duty and makes a big sacrifice to prove his love. Diver learns the secret of how our people might resurface, and Geb promises to always be with him.
In his cell, Oscar suffers a flawed romance, gives his blood for experiments, and meets a strange computer program, John Doe, struggling with amnesia. This AI being loves Oscar’s story of two ancient enemies becoming lovers and saving humanity. When John remembers his lost identity, he helps Oscar escape.
The moon had progressed from new to full, while I remained in place. Unable to rise from my mossy bed, I stared at the night sky. Geb squeezed water from the loofah. The drops pooled on my breastbone. He washed my chest, dabbing the bruises.
I’d failed in my journey. Falling behind hurt me more than the broken bones. Lying here halfway to the third new moon, I’d made no progress.
Less than five moons before our planned arrival, I ought to be further across the lake, or the round-headed girl might be born before we got there. If I arrived too late, I couldn’t save her and would miss her short life.
Geb wiped the sponge across my forehead. His thumb brushed my brow. “Don’t worry. You need to rest.”
I struggled to lift myself. The pain spiked. He held me down. My aches fell below me, and I flew with the bats circling above. Catching a moth in my needle teeth, I pushed against the air with fine-boned wings draped in thin skin.
Spiraling with the colony, I soared high above the island. We blocked the full moon’s light and cast a pale shadow on the human below. I could have flown forever if not for Geb summoning my return.
The pain abated. I fell back in my body. “Why can’t I get up? What happened to me?” I’d never taken so long to heal.
He dunked the loofah in a tortoise shell, wrung the water, and washed my face. “Too many breaks, the bones are knitting.”
“We won’t get there in time.” I’d ruined my chances.
“It’s still possible.”
“I’m not getting better.”
“You will.” He cradled my arm and washed it. “But you don’t have to go. It’s better if you don’t.”
I did have to. If only I could. He shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t challenge him. It would have been too much, more than I could handle now.
From the new moon to the full one now, something had troubled me. I hadn’t thanked him yet. He could have let me die, but he’d saved me and nursed my wounds.
Steaming beside him, roasted warthog cooled on water lily leaves. The smell was luscious. He didn’t have to cook meat for me, but he’d included it with plump tubers and sweet greens.
Geb put down the loofah. “Can you eat?” He pulled off a crisp-rinded strip. It dripped juice as he fed it to me. Fat ran down my chin. He wiped it with a lotus leaf.
Chewing the smoky meat made saliva fill my mouth. For the first time, I swallowed painlessly. Maybe he was right. I really would get better.
“More?” He asked.
I opened my lips and lifted my head.
He assembled a serving on a large leaf and set it on my chest. My fingers sunk in the food and filled my mouth. The pleasure of eating took my mind off my aching bones.
While I ate, he washed my feet. It tickled. I kicked. He laughed and took a firmer grip. It puzzled me I hadn’t fled.
Not always but usually when he touched me, I left behind my body, finding myself inside an animal or tree. On occasion, he’d directed me to go and often called me back, if I hadn’t returned on my own.
Sometimes my flights were sudden and unexpected as much by him as by me. It only took his presence to send me off, but his touch almost assured it, except for now.
I ate the last of the meat and worked on the roots and greens. He washed my leg and then the other. The scratchy loofah dripped. My hairs followed the water’s track.
During the attack, I’d been certain a spiky canine had pierced my thigh, but when he’d pulled me out of the lake, my leg was whole, the skin intact. The bone had broken but not from a cut. I’d been so sure I’d been bitten.
His eyes narrowed and glared at me. “You don’t have to, you know.”
What he’d said before, he’d said again. I didn’t understand why he suggested such a thing -- that I didn’t have to. She was more than an obligation. I wanted to save her.
He slid the empty leaf off my chest. “It isn’t meant to be.”
I looked away. “I can’t let them kill her.” Calling down from the sky, the ancestors echoed my sentiment.
“She’ll tip nature’s balance to the breaking point.” He rested a hand on my knee. “Her progeny will overrun the Earth.”
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