by Nick Thacker
“Due to what many others may dismiss as a translation error, I believe this story doesn’t reference a city at all. There was a specific line that caught my attention when I first read the account.”
The group waited for Quinones’ revelation.
“The priest wrote, ‘que estaba cerca de la gran pueblo antigua que vio por primera vez el oro…’”
Amanda spoke, translating the Spanish. “I only know a little Spanish, but I think that’s, ‘It was near the great old city that he first saw the gold…’”
Quinones smiled, a thin, sly line on his face. “Almost . In Spanish, the word ‘pueblo’ means town, or city. But the word’s roots come from the latin word ‘populus,’ which means ‘people.’”
Rhett had been listening quietly, but now nodded. “This guy told the priest that he’d been told a story by Carvajal himself, about a ‘great old people ’ and something about gold as well.”
“Exactly. And everyone thereafter began searching for a city — a physical location — made of pure gold. But my hypothesis is simple: El Dorado refers to a lost tribe , not a lost city. That fully explains why such a secret can remain hidden for four centuries.”
“How so?” Rhett asked.
“Well, you can’t hide a city forever — they don’t move,” Quinones said. “But if you are the secret you’re trying to keep — if you are the city — all it takes is a strong desire to remain hidden.”
The group was nodding slowly, and Ben found himself being swayed into belief. It makes sense, he thought.
“A tribe? Then how do we find them?” he asked.
Quinones smiled his cryptic smile again. “Don’t you see, my friends? We do not need to — they have found us .”
Part II
“…But he grew old—
This knight so bold—
And o’er his heart a shadow—
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado…”
— Edgar Allen Poe
Chapter 21
Valère felt the nervousness creeping up his spine. His old friend, the feeling of anxiety, was now omnipresent in his life, but it still shot up in pangs of crippling fear whenever he got too worked up. Where he should have been able to discern between excitement, an adrenaline rush, anger, and terror, he now only felt nervousness. More specifically, his heart began racing and he felt a wave of shakiness grip him. In turn, he gripped the edge of the desk and held on tightly, waiting for the worst of it to pass.
This particular wave was no doubt caused by the blinking light on his wall-mounted display, and what that signal represented. SARA, the Simulated Artificial Response Array semi-AI that controlled his office and communications, an internal project that was nearing the end of its alpha testing phase, also noticed the signal and immediately alerted Valère. Her voice was still metallic and somewhat hollow, as it had always been, but Valère had recently “upgraded” the computerized female voice by giving it a British accent. “She” tended to communicate in French, Valère’s native tongue, but was also fluent in British and American English.
“Monsieur Valère, there is an incoming connection. Mr. Emilio Vasquez, from his estate. Shall I connect?”
Valère nodded without looking up from the blinking light. SARA saw his reaction from one of the many cameras mounted inside the walls of the office and immediately authorized the connection. Emilio Vasquez’s rounded face appeared on the screen in front of him, in full HD resolution. It was too large, in Valère’s opinion, and showed his partners pockmarks, scars, and spotted skin in too much detail.
“Mr. Vasquez,” Valère began. He kept his grip on the edge of the desk and didn’t sit down.
“Valère, what’s this I hear about the Company bombing a hotel in Brazil?”
Valère swallowed, trying to not show his weakness. He sniffed, tilting his head back slightly. “It is not the Company’s actions to which you are referring, my dear friend, but my own. And it wasn’t a bombing , but an extraction .”
Vasquez’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? And what exactly did you extract? ”
“That’s not of any importance at this stage. I —“
“‘Not of any importance?’” Vasquez said, his voice raising. “Listen to yourself, Valère! Who are you taking orders from? And what gives you the right to cut me out of —“
“I did no such thing,” Valère said. “And you know I have full authority to send Joshua’s team anywhere I please. This extraction was just such an act. While we didn’t attain custody of the —“
“Wait, you mean the extraction failed? Jesus, Valère, you were lucky they didn’t leave corpses everywhere! You must think you’re above —“
Valère held up a hand, interrupting Emilio. “It is not luck when they are the best-trained security force on the planet. They knew the hotel was nearly empty, and I told them to make an ‘audible entrance,’ but to be careful not to leave any collateral damage.”
“Then why did they fail?”
“The fault for that is mine,” Valère said. “I told Joshua he wouldn’t need more than a few men, as the target was unarmed, untrained, and traveling with a small group of civilians. However, there was an unknown variable during the extraction, and Joshua was taken by surprise. I told him to track the target, regroup, and be prepared for a full engagement. He will not be taken by surprise again, that I can assure you.”
“You don’t need to assure me,” Emilio said, “I didn’t even know about this ‘attack’ until ten minutes ago. I’d suggest you brief the Company, for both our —“
“The Company is fully aware of the situation, and has already provided Joshua with additional men and supplies for the trip.”
Again Emilio’s eyebrows raised, but he didn’t ask the question he was undoubtedly thinking.
“They are following the group into the Amazon rainforest, we believe. The Company has given me full authority over Joshua’s team, but they will expect results. I am confident that Joshua’s team will produce, but I have nevertheless taken additional precautions. I had to act quickly, so I did not alert you to my actions.”
“And Joshua — you’ve explained to him about his father?”
“I have been communicating with him as though I am his father.”
Even on the screen, Valère could see Emilio’s eyes bulging. “You — you what? How are you doing that? If Joshua learned that we —“
“Hacking an email account is not a miraculous endeavor, Emilio,” Valère said. “Especially when the Company owns the servers. Joshua is a professional — a few short emails directly from his own father, with my own email address in the cc field, and he was off to begin pursuing our target. He needn’t be burdened with any news of his father’s involvement with our research in Antarctica.”
Emilio nodded, thinking, and Valère waited for the inevitable question.
“Who is the target?”
“Her name is Dr. Amanda Meron, and she runs the research branch of NARATech.”
“NARATech? But she can’t — “
“She absolutely does not know what NARATech used to be, and she never will. We’ve grown out of the facility in Brazil so we’ve allowed her to claim its usefulness for her own interests. Her company’s research is focused on retrieving images from the mind using functional magnetic response imaging, and they have achieved great success.”
He paused a moment, finally feeling the nervousness subside.
“However, we have data that suggests their research has taken an interesting turn, one the Company was quite interested in pursuing. We need her to cooperate until we can verify her company’s claims, before they go public with the information. After that…”
“…You won’t need her any longer.”
“Precisely.”
Emilio smiled. “Valère, I wish you would keep me in the loop about these things. You know I can be a great help to you and the Company.”
“Yes, yes I do,” Valère
said. “You shouldn’t worry yourself with these trivial matters. Your value to us is as an investor, consultant, and advisor. Please forgive my hastiness in moving forward without you.”
“Not a problem, Valère,” Emilio Vasquez said. “So, her company, NARATech — it’s different from what we established in Brazil a few years ago?”
“It is now. SARA coordinated the move of our subjects to a proper facility that will require far less logistical organization and security, but we had an empty facility left behind. NARATech was only ever an internal facility, so there was no need to change the name and rebrand. Dr. Meron’s research fit nicely with our long-term goals, so we offered to fully fund her company and remain silent partners. She owns the shares and the research outright, but the namesake belongs to us, as well as the right to first access to any of their findings.”
“I see.” Emilio Vasquez turned away from the screen, and Valère could see the man looking at something behind him. “Valère, I need to attend to other matters, but I appreciate your willingness to keep me abreast of changes and developments. ”
“And I shall. Thank you, Emilio.” SARA didn’t wait for Mr. Vasquez’s response — she cut the connection, and the blinking light on the monitor went dark. Valère sat down at the desk, replaying the conversation in his mind. The next few days would prove quite taxing, and he needed to maintain a calm, collected preparedness if the Company was to accomplish this next phase of their goal.
He told SARA to schedule another appointment with his doctor.
Chapter 22
“You can stay here tonight. You need the rest.” The older man, Archibald Quinones, guided the group to a bedroom at the end of the hallway. “The ladies may sleep in here, and you —“ he motioned to Rhett — “stay in my bedroom. There is a restroom attached; it will be best in case you need to dress your wounds. The rest of us can find room on the floor in the office, or in the living room.”
He paused at the outside of the door leading into the guest bedroom, where Amanda Meron and Juliette would be staying. “I apologize for my lack of accommodations. I usually do not host more than one or two at a time, and even then it is rare for someone to stay the night here.”
Amanda smiled at Archie and grabbed his arm. “Please, Archie, do not apologize. We are more than grateful for your help so far.”
Archie patted Amanda’s hand and turned to Paulinho, who had extended his hand toward the man in thanks. Archie grasped his hand, then looked down at his wrist. “Interesting design,” he said.
Paulinho frowned, then saw that the man was referring to the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. “Right, yes,” he said. “It is a design from a necklace my grandfather had. When he passed I had it imprinted on me as a reminder of his life.”
“He must have been a special man. Do you know what it means? ”
“I don’t,” Paulinho said. He laughed. “I just always liked the necklace, and he always wore it underneath his shirt. I used to grab it when I was a boy and tug on it.” The memory seemed to warm Paulinho, and he took a moment of recollection. Archie respectfully waited, then turned to the rest of the group.
“Tomorrow I will find us a guide and a boat, though we will likely have to share it with tourists. I’ve only ventured into the jungle a handful of times, and admittedly I was a much younger soul then. But I do think there is something to your myth, and I would like to help.
Ben’s ears perked up at the man’s mention of ‘venturing into the jungle,’ but Paulinho spoke up before Ben could.
“You don’t intend to travel with us, do you?” he asked.
Quinones smiled. “It is a foolish venture, no? An old man traveling with a band of young, strapping explorers?”
Reggie looked from Paulinho to Quinones, then at Ben and back. “But seriously, Archie — you’re not…”
“I am going to go with you, provided your acceptance of my desire. I believe I can be of help to you in the jungle, even if I am the slowest of the group.”
He winked at Ben. “But I do not think I would be the slowest.”
Ben wasn’t sure if he was insulting him or just making a point, but he didn’t care. He spoke up, arguing against the man’s wishes. “Archie, I — it’s a real pleasure to meet you and all, but… I don’t think…”
Archie lifted his chin and tilted his head back slightly. Somehow, it seemed to Ben not insulting and condescending but regal and endearing. “Please,” Quinones said, addressing Ben directly, “allow this old man one final indulgence. I will be an asset to your team, and I vow to not hold you up. Besides, I have some ideas about how to map the expedition, and I am no amateur when it comes to wilderness navigation.”
“Archie, this isn’t just an expedition. There are killers after us. This isn’t your fight,” Reggie said .
“Nor is it yours,” Quinones responded. “It seems to me they want something from Dr. Meron, and therefore I believe she needs all the help she can get. I know of many of the tribes we may encounter, and which we’d be wise to stay away from.” Quinones stopped pacing and walked to the center of the room, a physical statement of assertion. “I am going with you, and that’s that. I see you’ve brought packs. I know you’re more than capable of keeping one more person alive, Reggie, and we can leave as soon as you are all rested and ready. It will be early, so I suggest you all get some sleep.”
Reggie smiled at Ben. Ben hesitated, then grinned back. Their team had grown by one.
Chapter 23
The dog was a labrador retriever mix, dark gray with lighter specks to match his white front paws. It was young, its feet still oversized compared to its body. But, like any young dog, it was fast.
Joshua found himself exerting more effort than he’d intended trying to keep up with the animal, who was now leading him through alleyways, across streets, and up the large sloping side of the city. He’d raced off after the runaway pet immediately after its owner lost it, but he hadn’t anticipated running behind the dog for more than a block or two.
The animal continued, jumping over a pile of trash at the end of the alleyway. Joshua stretched out and leaped over the trash pile, closing the distance between himself and the mutt. The dog looked back at him as his foot splashed in a puddle, its tongue lolling around out the side of its mouth.
Joshua could have sworn the dog was smiling at him.
“Come here, you little bastard,” he said, smiling right back. The dog slowed a bit as he reached the end of the alley and tried to decide which direction to turn. Joshua launched himself forward into a diving tackle and reached forward, arms outstretched.
He’d calculated the distance perfectly. The dog was about to run to the right, but Joshua spread his hands out and brought them around the animal just as he landed, his body inches from the dog’s. The dog huffed a quick panting breath of defeat, then allowed himself to be wrapped up into Joshua’s arms.
“You really thought you’d outrun me?” Joshua said. The dog’s huge brown eyes stared up at him, the jovial twinkle of satisfaction still in its eyes. “Let’s get you home, buddy.”
The dog had been walking with its master in a park three blocks away as Joshua was out on a morning run. The owner had tried letting the dog off of its lead to choose a spot, but the dog had other plans. Joshua began chasing after it as soon as he caught the terrified look in the owner’s eyes. He’d always had a soft spot for dogs, and he knew the feeling of losing such a loyal friend.
He walked back to the park, still carrying the dog. The owner, a young woman in her early thirties, saw him and began jogging over. When they met, Joshua allowed the woman to reattach the lead before setting the dog on the ground. The animal stretched its legs, whined once, then harrumphed and sat on the sidewalk. The woman tried to thank Joshua in Portuguese, but he just shook his head and smiled.
She tried thanking him again, this time reaching for a pocketbook.
He held out a hand. “No, please, it’s fine. Happy to help.”
His phone vibr
ated silently in his pocket, and he reached for it and pulled it out. Perfect timing. The woman got the hint, nodding profusely and thanking him as he turned away and answered the call.
“Joshua.” He spoke the word slowly, articulating it carefully, as was his custom. The person on the other end would be using a computer to analyze his vocal performance, matching it against the library of wavelength files he’d supplied to the Company. He waited for the caller to verify his identity while he forced his breath and heart rate down to a slower, steady pace.
He looked around the small park. No more than a rusting playground in the middle of a grassless knoll, the park was the only such feature on this side of the city. The mist had only recently lifted, and the dewdrops were still sparkling on the few blades of grass they had to choose from. Besides the woman and her dog, there was no one else outside. It was a pristine scene, even considering the weary, run-down area of town his team had been assigned to.
“Very good,” the voice on the other end of the phone said. “Joshua, we have an updated SITREP and possible location.”
Joshua grimaced. He hated his employer’s use of military jargon and acronyms. His contact at the Company, like his own father, had no military experience or training, choosing money and influence as their primary weapons of choice. The real work, the work that actually mattered , they left to people like Joshua.
“Go on,” he said, already growing impatient. The sound of the man’s voice only reminded him of his failed mission the night before.
“The plane landed in Manaus, and the group visited a home in the city. They stayed the night, and are now leaving.”
“And where are they going?”
“It’s impossible to know at this stage, but we believe they will be traveling by river, possibly preparing to embark up- or downstream.”
Joshua took in the information, immediately parsing it against what he knew of the situation. If they took a barge or public boat, it meant they would be with other people, tourists, and they would have to go in quietly. Collateral damage was not an option on this mission. The hotel attack was only planned because the Company wanted a quick turnaround. Joshua’s reconnaissance of the establishment convinced him that there would be no deaths, outside of a few of the group members too stupid to get out of the way as they came for Dr. Meron.