"It sounds like you're suggesting this tree manufactured these creatures purposefully? Consciously?" Zane scoffed.
Manny shrugged. "Who can say? Maybe it wasn't so much will or thought as just evolutionary pressure."
"Impossible." Zane shook his head.
"Not so. We've seen versions of this phenomenon already." Manny turned to Nate. "Like the ant tree."
Nate frowned, picturing the attack on Sergeant Kostos by stinging ants. He remembered how an ant tree's stems and branches were hollow, serving both to house the colony and feed it with a sugary sap. In turn, the ants savagely protected their home against the intrusion of plants and animals. He began to understand what Manny was driving at. There was a distinct similarity.
Manny went on, "What we have here is a symbiosis between plant life and animal, both evolved into a complex shared interrelationship. One serving the other."
Carrera spoke up from her post by a window. The sun was slowly setting behind her shoulder. "Who cares how the beasts came to be? Do we know how to avoid them if we have to fight our way out of the valley?"
Nate answered her question. "The creatures can be controlled."
"How?"
He waved to the laptop. "It took my father years to learn the Ban-ali secrets. It seems that the tribe has developed powders that can both attract and repel the creatures. We ourselves saw this demonstrated with the locusts, but they can do it with the piranhas, too. Through chemicals in the water, they can lure and trigger an aggressive response in the otherwise docile creatures. My father believed it's some type of hormonal compound that stimulates the piranhas' territoriality and makes them attack wildly."
Manny nodded. "Then it's lucky we wiped out a majority of the adult horde so quickly. I imagine it takes time for their hatchery to grow a new supply. Just one of the disadvantages of a biological defense system."
"Perhaps that's why the Ban-ali keep more than one type of creature," Carrera noted astutely. "Backup troops."
Manny frowned. "Of course. I should've thought of that."
Carrera faced Nate. "Then there are those cats and giant caimans to consider."
Nate nodded. "Gatekeepers, like we thought, set up to defend the perimeter. They patrol the entry points to the heart of the territory. But even the jaguars can be made docile by painting a black powder over one's body, allowing the Ban-ali to pass freely back and forth. I imagine the compound must act like caiman dung, a scent repellent to the giant cats."
Manny whistled. "So our guide's body paint wasn't all camouflage."
"Where do we get some of this repellent stuff?" Kostos asked. "Where does it come from?"
Kouwe spoke up. "The Yagga tree." He had not moved, only grown more pale with the telling of the tale.
Nate was surprised by the professor's quick answer. "They're derived from the Yagga's bark and leaf oils. But how did you guess?"
"Everything ties back to that prehistoric tree. I think Manny was quite correct that the specimen behaves like an ant tree. But he's wrong about who the ants are here."
"What do you mean?" Manny asked.
"The mutated beasts are just biological tools supplied by the tree for its true workers." Kouwe stared around him. "The Ban-ali."
A stunned silence spread over the group.
Kouwe continued, "The tribesmen here are the soldier ants in this relationship. The Ban-ali name the tree Yagga, their word for mother. One who gives birth...a caretaker. Countless generations ago, most likely during the first migration of people into South America, the tribe must have stumbled upon the tree's remarkable healing ability and became enthralled by it. Becoming ban-yin--slaves. Each serving the other in a complex web of defense and offense."
Nate felt sickened by this comparison. Humans used like ants.
"This grove is prehistoric," the professor finished. "It might trace its heritage back to Pangaea, when South America and Africa were joined. Its species may have been around when man first walked upright. Throughout the ages, there are hundreds of myths of such trees, from all corners of the world. The maternal guardian. Perhaps this encounter here was not the first."
This thought sank into the others. Nate didn't think even his father had extrapolated the history of the Yagga to this end. It was disturbing.
Sergeant Kostos shifted his M-16 to his other shoulder. "Enough history lessons. I thought we were supposed to be developing an alternate plan. A way to escape if we can't raise someone on the radio."
"The sergeant is right." Kouwe turned. "You never did tell us, Nate. What happened to your father and the others? How did Gerald Clark escape?"
Nate took a deep breath and turned back to the computer. He scrolled down to the last entry and read it aloud.
"April 18
We've gathered enough powders to chance an escape tonight. After what we've learned, we must attempt a break for civilization. We dare not wait any longer. We'll dust our bodies black and flee with the setting moon. Illia knows paths that will quickly get us past any trackers and out of these lands, but the trek back to civilization will be hard and not without threat. Still, we have no choice...not after the birth. We'll try tonight. May God watch over us all."
Nate straightened from the laptop, turning to the others. "They all attempted to flee, not just Gerald Clark."
Across the many faces, Nate saw the same expression. Only Gerald Clark made it back to civilization.
"So they all left," Kelly mumbled.
Nate nodded. "Even a Ban-ali woman, a skilled tracker named Illia. She had fallen in love and married Gerald Clark. He took her with him."
"What happened to them?" Anna said.
Nate shook his head. "That was the last entry. There is no more."
Kelly's expression saddened. "Then they didn't make it...only Gerald Clark."
"I could ask Dakii for more details," Kouwe said.
"Dakii?"
Kouwe pointed below. "The tribesman who guided us here. Between what I know of the Ban-ali language and his smattering of English, I might be able to find out what happened to the others, how they died."
Nate nodded, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the details.
Manny spoke up. "But what made them flee that night? Why the hint at some urgency in that last note?"
Nate took a deep breath. "It's why I wanted everyone to hear this. My father came to some frightening conclusions about the Ban-ali. Something he needed to relay to the outside world."
"What?" Kouwe asked.
Nate wasn't sure where to begin. "It took years of living with the Ban-ali for my father to begin piecing facts together. He noticed that the isolated tribe showed some hints of remarkable advancements over their Indian counterparts in the greater Amazon. The invention of the pulley and wheel. A few of the homes even have crude elevators, using large boulders and counter-weights. And other advancements that seemed strange considering the isolated nature of this tribe. He spent much of his time examining the way the Ban-ali think, the way they teach their children. He was fascinated by all this."
"So what happened?" Kelly asked.
"Gerald Clark fell in love with Illia. They married during the second year of the group's incarceration here. During the third, they conceived a baby. During the fourth year, Illia gave birth." He stared hard at the gathered faces. "The child was stillborn, rife with mutations." Nate recalled his father's words. "'A genetic monster.'"
Kelly cringed.
Nate pointed to the laptop. "There are more details in the files. My father and the medical doctor of the group began to formulate a frightening conclusion. The tree hadn't just mutated the lower species. It had also been changing the Ban-ali over the years, subtly heightening their cognitive abilities, their reflexes, even their eyesight. While outwardly they appeared the same, the tree was improving the species. My father suspected that the Ban-ali were heading genetically away from mankind. One of the definitions that separates different species is an inability to breed together."
"The stillborn child..." Manny had paled. Nate nodded. "My father came to believe that the Ban-ali were near to leaving Homo sapiens behind, becoming their own species."
"Dear God," Kelly gasped.
"It was why their need to escape became urgent. This corruption of mankind in the valley has to be stopped."
No one spoke for a full minute.
Anna's voice, full of horror, whispered, "What are we going to do?"
"We're going to get that damn GPS working," Kostos said harshly. "Then we're gonna bug out of this damn place."
"And in the meantime," Carrera added, "we should gather as much of that repellent powder as possible, just in case."
Kelly cleared her voice and stood up. "We're all forgetting one vital thing. The disease spreading across the Americas. How do we cure it? What did Gerald Clark bring out of this valley?" Kelly turned to Nate. "In your father's notes, is there any mention of a contagious disease here?"
"No, with the inherent healing properties of the Yagga tree, everyone remained incredibly healthy. The only suggestion is the taboo against one of the Chosen, the Ban-ali, leaving the tribe. A shadowed curse upon he who leaves and all he encounters. My father had dismissed this as a myth to frighten anyone from leaving."
Manny mumbled, "The curse upon he who leaves and all he encounters...that sounds like our contagion."
Kelly turned back to Nate. "But if true, where did the disease come from? What triggered Clark's body to suddenly become riddled with tumors? What made him contagious?"
"I wager it has something to do with the Yagga tree's healing sap," Zane said. "Maybe it keeps the disease in check here. When we leave, we need to make sure we collect a generous sample. That's clearly vital."
Kelly ignored Zane, her gaze unfocused. "We're missing something...something important," she said, low and quiet. Nate doubted anyone else heard her.
"I can see if Dakii will cooperate," Kouwe said. "See if he has any answers--both to the final fate of the others and about this mysterious disease."
"Good. Then we have a working plan for now," Sergeant Kostos said by the door. He pointed around the room and assigned missions for each of them. "Olin will work on the GPS. At daybreak, Kouwe and Anna, our Indian experts, will act as intel. Gather as much information as possible. Manny, Carrera, and I'll search out where the repellent powder is stored. Zane, Rand, and Kelly will watch over Frank, ready him for a quick evac if necessary. While at the tree, it will be up to you three to collect a sample of the healing sap."
Slowly everyone nodded. If nothing else, it would keep them busy, keep their minds off the biological horrors hidden in the pristine valley.
Kouwe pushed to his feet. "I might as well get started. I'll chat with Dakii while he's alone down below."
"I'll go with you," Nate said.
Kelly moved toward them. "And I'm going to check on Frank one last time before full night falls."
The trio left the common room and crossed the deck to the ladder. The sun was only a sharp glow to the west. Dusk had rolled like a dark cloud over the glade.
In silence, the three descended the ladder in the gloom, each in a cocoon of their own thoughts.
Nate was the first one down and helped Kouwe and Kelly off the ladder. Tor-tor wandered over and nuzzled Nate for attention. He scratched absently at the tender spot behind the jaguar's ear.
A few yards away, the tribesman named Dakii stood.
Kouwe crossed toward him.
Kelly stared up at the Yagga, its upper branches still bathed in sunlight. In her narrowed eyes, Nate saw a wary glint.
"If you'll wait a moment, I'll go with you," he said.
She shook her head. "I'm fine. I've got one of the Rangers' radios. You should get some rest."
"But--"
She glanced over at him, her face tired and sad. "I won't be long. I just need a few minutes alone with my brother."
He nodded. He had no doubt the Ban-ali would leave her unmolested, but he hated to see her alone with such raw grief. First her daughter, now her brother...so much pain shone in every plane of her face.
She reached to him, squeezed his hand. "Thanks for offering, though," she whispered, and set off across the fields.
Behind Nate, Kouwe already had his pipe lit and was talking with Dakii. Nate patted Tor-tor's side and walked over to join them.
Kouwe glanced back at him. "Do you have a picture of your father?"
"In my wallet."
"Can you show it to Dakii? After four years spent with your father, the tribesmen must be familiar with recorded images."
Nate shrugged and pulled out his leather billfold. He flipped to a photo of his father, standing in a Yanomamo village, surrounded by village children.
Kouwe showed it to Dakii.
The tribesman cocked his head back and forth, eyes wide. "Kerl," he said, tapping at the photo with a finger.
"Carl...right," Kouwe said. "What happened to him?" The professor repeated the question in Yanomamo.
Dakii did not understand. It took a few more back-and-forth exchanges to finally communicate the question. Dakii then bobbed his head vigorously, and a complicated exchange followed. Kouwe and Dakii spoke rapidly in a mix of dialects and phonetics that was too quick for Nate to follow.
During a lull, Kouwe turned to Nate. "The others were slain. Gerald escaped the trackers. His background as a Special Forces soldier must have helped him slip away."
"My father?"
Dakii must have understood the word. He leaned in closer to the photograph, then back up at Nate. "Son?" he said. "You son man?"
Nate nodded.
Dakii patted Nate on his arm, a broad smile on his face. "Good. Son of wishwa."
Nate glanced to Kouwe, frowning.
"Wishwa is their word for shaman. Your father, with his modern wonders, must have been considered a shaman."
"What happened to him?"
Kouwe again spoke rapidly in the mix of pidgin English and a mishmash of Yanomamo. Nate was even beginning to unravel the linguistic knot.
"Kerl...?" Dakii bobbed his head, grinning proudly. "Me brother teshari-rin bring Kerl back to shadow of Yagga. It good."
"Brought back?" Nate asked.
Kouwe continued to drag the story from the man. Dakii spoke rapidly. Nate didn't understand. But at last, Kouwe turned back to Nate. The professor's face was grim.
"What did he say?"
"As near as I can translate, your father was indeed brought back here--dead or alive, I couldn't say. But then, because of both his crime and his wishwa status, he was granted a rare honor among the tribe."
"What?"
"He was taken to the Yagga, his body fed to the root."
"Fed to the root?"
"I think he means like fertilizer."
Nate stumbled back a step. Though he knew his father was dead, the reality was too horrible to fathom. His father had attempted to stop the corruption of the Ban-ali by the prehistoric tree, risking his own life to do so, but in the end, he had been fed to the damn thing instead, nourishing it.
Past Kouwe's shoulder, Dakii continued to bob his head, grinning like a fool. "It good. Kerl with Yagga. Nashi nar!"
Nate was too numb to ask what the last word meant, but Kouwe translated anyway.
"Nashi nar. Forever."
8:08 P.M.
In the jungle darkness, Louis lay in wait, infrared goggles fixed to his head. The sun had just set and true night was quickly consuming the valley. He and his men had been in position for hours.
Not much longer.
But he would have to be patient. Make haste slowly, he had been taught. One last key was needed before the attack could commence. So he lay on his belly, covered by the fronds of a fern, face smeared in streaks of black.
It had been a long and busy day. This morning, an hour after sunrise, he had been contacted by his mole. His spy was still alive! What good fortune! The agent had informed him that the Ban-ali village did indeed lie in a secluded valley, only
approachable through the side canyon in the cliffs ahead. What could be more perfect? All his targets trapped in one place.
The only obstacle had been the valley's damned jaguar pack.
But his darling Tshui had managed to handle that nasty problem. Covered by the early morning gloom, she had led a handpicked team of trackers, including the German commando, Brail, into the valley's heart and planted poisoned meat, freshly killed and dripping with blood. Tshui had tainted each piece with a terrible poison, both odorless and tasteless, that killed with only the slightest lick. The pack, its blood lust already up from the attack upon the Rangers, found these treats too hard to resist.
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