Iapetus999
Synopsis
Jane Porter is a girl living in the man's world of the late 19th Century.
But unlike most girls her age, Jane is a prodigy, already earning her baccalaureate degree at age 16 in Zoology.
Now on a mission to deepest uncharted Africa with her aging father, she uncovers Africa's most terrifying denizen: a jungle man who sweeps her off her feet and into a world of untouched marvels and budding passion.
Meanwhile, forces conspire to ravage Africa of her treasures both animal and material. Jane must halt the destruction of her new love's world before she is hauled back to America.
This is a retelling of the classic Tarzan from Jane's point of view, but Jane is no mere damsel in distress waiting for Tarzan to swing by and sweep her off her feet. She is a young woman in search of her own soul, of her passion, of her love for all creatures and the beauty that is Africa.
Excerpt
Hello, gentle readers. My name is Jane Porter. I’m aboard a ship bound to Africa. People say that I’m too young to go on such a rigorous adventure.
Those people don’t know the Porters.
...
Africa. Even the name sends chills down my spine.
...
I loathe an encounter with a plump python or a terrible tiger. I cringe at the thought of the clouds of fist-sized mosquitoes. I shiver at the contemplation of nights spent among the denizens of the forest, all craftily planning their next meal at our expense.
To assuage my fear, I have familiarized myself with the operation and aiming of numerous forms of firearms from the mighty elephant express rifle to the diminutive Colt sidearm.
...
Now I am not one to confront my elders, especially ones with silly English titles. But this man has disturbed my sensibilities.
“Cease your fire immediately,” I command, but a girl’s voice against rifle blasts, wind, water, and our steam engine proves useless. So I do the next best thing. I throw our prized red-fin scarp directly at his cranium.
...
I plow my head back in and stroke. Waves form around me and carry me gently onto the shore.
I hug Africa.
The men open fire, rifles crackling.
Behind me a gargantuan gator rears up, snaps at my legs, and then sulks back toward the river, the bullets causing no obvious signs of damage.
But I scramble up the beach like he’s still after me.
Welcome to Africa, I think.
---
The lion does something strange. He sits. He lifts a paw and sniffs at it. He plops down on the ground and proceeds to lick his paw. His mouth opens wide in a huge yawn, then he lays his head on the ground.
I lower my pistol. That lion’s not stalking at all. I begin to slither back down the tree, keeping one eye on the lazy lion and one on dad who’s completely oblivious to the show.
The lion rolls over on his side. Dad shakes a small tree for some unfathomable reason. I want to cry, “no!” but the lion only sniffs the air. If he catches dad’s scent it’s all over. After numerous bumps and scratches I reach ground. I reach for my boots but stop when a snake slithers into one of them.
---
Spears aim at my face. The men chortle in their native tongue. I wonder if I should scream.
Then I hear it. The howl. A cry so unearthly that I fear it more than the men surrounding me. Even Lt. Smith in his death throes reacts, clutching my hand as if the author of that vocalization brings a fate worse than his imminent death. The natives freeze, looking all about, fear writ across their features.
Even the birds halt their incessant calling. It’s as if the entire jungle has stopped.
One of the natives disappears as if a hand has come down from Heaven and lifted him up. The spears tremble in the hands of the savages.
All is quiet. The men glance at each other, steeling themselves.
A scream returns, but not the chilling one. This is the man who disappeared, tumbling down from the sky yelling and landing in a whump in the middle of group of men.
---
Hot blood runs through my veins, jungle fever if there ever was one.
I pull myself away but he catches me and we kiss again, passionately. I shove his chest, somehow knowing that any longer and I would not be able to break the embrace. John’s panting, I’m sweating and tingling and my knees are knocking.
“Au revoir,” he says.
And then he’s gone, climbed a tree or swung a vine, disappearing into the night.
---
“Come, let’s wash in the river.”
I don’t know what comes over me, but before I know it, we’re both in a deep pool of water, up to our necks, and completely naked. Well, I took off my clothes after I got in.
Yes, I know my higher sensibilities have fled. So what?
Yes, I know I’m not ready-ready. But I think I’m ready to be ready to be ready. Do you know what I mean?
John chases me around the water.
“Piranha!” I cry.
“What?” John looks around.
“Oh, sorry, wrong jungle...
---
My mouth tastes his flesh, nips his shoulder, while my hands grasp his back, run through his hair. My blood runs so hot that I think it will boil out of my body.
Now is the moment, the perfect moment to become one, in a forgotten city in a wild continent.
Except for one small thing...the stands of the ancient arena around us are filling with dark, savage men.
I scream.
---
John holds me, an embrace worth more than all the gold in the room, or in the world.
“If you will not take the ring tonight, let me at least give you something else.” He pulls away and rummages around one of the corners. He returns with a simple gold chain with a small pendant, not any more elaborate than something you’d find at any quality American jewelry store, but given its antiquity, I could buy five of such stores with it.
He places it over my head. The pendant rests between my breasts.
“But I have nothing for you,” I say.
“All I need is your kiss.”
---
I stop to smear myself with insect repellent, and then decide to trace battle lines on my face with mud. I pluck a couple loose bird feathers from a nest and fasten them in my hair.
My mother used to claim she was part Cherokee, but we never believed her.
I do now.
Because as of this moment, both John and I are on the warpath.
---
Glenda passes out round after round, until the apes are literal climbing the trees, hooting and calling, and unfortunately pissing everywhere. A few begin to...well, lets just say they are bit more amorous than I care to see.
“Come,” says D’Arnot, tugging my rope.
I don’t like what I see in his eyes, a mix of lust and inebriation.
“No.”
“You come with me, whore!”
I stand up. “I have not given my singing performance. Does the lady of the house wish to hear me sing?”
“Why indeed, that would be splendid,” says Glenda, lifting her cup.
My knees wobble, my vision tumbles, but I lift my head and utter the howl I perfected above the poachers, the howl of pure agony and loss, of my suffering and confinement of the last few days.
The apes stop as if gunshot, my howl echoing through the forest. They all regard me as if I’ve just uttered something profound.
Then as one, they turn to D'Arnot, my captor, with animal rage in their eyes.
---
Captain Mann’s eyes light up. “Africa. This land could become the center of a new land, full of riches and opportunity. Farms, roads, mines, think about it. England is starving for sugar, for rice, for basic foodstuffs. Imagine what this land could provide. And this Mr. Clayton would of course be properly compensated for his generous grant.”
I huff. “What if Mr. Clayton has no need for riches? What if this land itself is his riches, and any desecration of it, no matter what the compensation, would make him a poorer man? How can you bargain with a man who has everything he wants?”
“Mr. Clayton does not have everything he wants.”
“Oh yeah? Name one thing that you could give him that he wants but does not already have. Go on. One thing.”
Captain Mann relaxes in his chair, places his hands behind his head, and smiles.
“Very well. I do happen to know that there is one thing he treasures beyond all else, one thing that he will do anything to have. That one thing is you.”
---
I just stare at the raindrops battering the puddles on the ground. I feel the shackles removed from my wrists, but my arms just lay above my head. Then they just leave me there, setting up rain shelters so they can cook and sleep.
Something shimmies into my vision. A red and green lizard, possibly the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, with perfect diamond scales like porcelain. I swear it walks right up to my nose and flicks it with its tongue.
“Help me,” I whisper to it.
It seems to look into my eyes with its black, beady eyes, and then skitters off.
“Wait!”
It’s gone.
I struggle onto my elbows. I crawl after the lizard, towards the woods that beckon, invite me. I reach the first tree, except it’s not a tree, it’s the legs of a Blackfoot mercenary.
I can see the lizard. It turns its head to me one last time as if checking on me, then scoots away. My heart is crushed.
---
“Don’t come any closer,” says Mann. “I will kill her.”
John keeps his hand extended. “Jane. Come.” His eyes are hypnotic, willing me forward. As if I’m in a daze, I push Mann’s arm away and step toward John. All the last few week’s insecurity and doubt fade away. I reach out to him, and his fingers close on mine. “Are you well?” he asks.
I nod.
I hear a whoosh and John shudders. His eyes go blank. He sinks to his knees, a poisoned blow dart in his neck. He whispers, “Jane” and collapses.
---
I step forward. “My own country, America, fought free of Europe’s yoke. It was not easy, but just over a hundred years ago we did it. Lt. D’Arnot speaks of Europe’s might, but it failed against common citizens rising to defeat their enemy.”
I jump up on the bench, so all in the assembly can hear me, even though only a handful could understand my words.
“The reason we won is that we united. We formed the United States. That is what must happen here. We must unite all the elements of Africa together to repel these invaders. We must free John who at this moment suffers intolerable captivity. We must show the Europeans that they do not just fight the Waziri, or even the Blackroot, but that they challenge all of Africa. We do not want their money, their arms, or their help. We did it in America, and we can do it here. Who’s with me?”
The English speakers relay my words as best they can and the room grows with murmurs.
“This is insanity,” says D’Arnot. “You cannot tell me you are listening to the words of a school girl.”
---
“You...you...” He sputters but lowers his weapon. “You will get all these boys killed. Do you hear me? She leads you into death. What will you tell their parents, girl? Will you be able to face them and tell them their children are dead? Look at them, some of them are barely off their mother’s teat. And you, thinking you’re some kind of war goddess. What will you tell them?”
I swallow and look at the boys. I face D’Arnot. “I will tell them they died like men, in defense of their friend. What about you? What will you tell John when we have rescued him and you have huddled in the village like a coward? How far are you from your mother’s teat?”
---
It’s done. The assault has been ordered. Many of my boys may die, many of the elephants.
I walk to the center of the assembly. “Okay, hear me. Tonight is the night we’ve waited for. Tonight, we will go and destroy the invaders to our land.”
The boys cheer. The men salute.
“Your lieutenants have your orders. Now mount your elephants, load your weapons, and may god or whatever spirits you believe in guide you to safety. Tonight will live in African history forever. For Africa!”
“For Africa!”
---
