by Nick Thacker
The chief gasped a breath of air, his eyes flying open in bewildered surprise. Paulinho’s neck pulled his head upward while his hands shook and beat at the surface of the water. Both men convulsed a few times, as if experiencing the aftershock of a seizure. The chief stood up, blinked a few times, and fell backwards into the water.
Ben tensed, not expecting the chief to have disappeared so suddenly, but then remembered the legend.
The gold-covered chief jumps into the lake to rinse himself off and mark the close of the ceremony.
Finally, Paulinho sat up.
“Paulinho!” Reggie shouted. “What the hell was that about? You okay?”
Paulinho ignored him, shaking his head slowly. His hands rose to his forehead, and he began pushing inward on his skull.
“What’s he doing?”
“He was complaining of a headache earlier,” Amanda said. “I imagine whatever we just saw didn’t help.”
The chief was already back on the rock, dripping wet and no longer covered in gold, waiting for Paulinho. He didn’t offer a hand, but when Paulinho began standing up the chief stepped close to him. Once more he pulled Paulinho’s face close to his and spoke.
When he was done, the chief lowered his head and stepped back to the center of the rock. Paulinho turned and walked off the edge of the rock and onto the next. He stepped purposefully, not looking down to make sure his foot was hovering over the solid surface. His head was no longer rolling, his eyes no longer white.
Paulinho made it to the shoreline then turned to the group. Ben was intrigued, but still on edge. He felt the pole pressing against him, its full weight no longer secured by the thick mud and dirt. He leaned back against it, steadying himself. Paulinho marched to the edge of the lake and turned to address the group.
He cleared his throat, then began.
64
“I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT just happened,” Paulinho said. Julie looked like she was in shock, watching a man she had grown close to visit the brink of death then come back full circle. He was very much alive, and yet he knew he was very much a different person.
Paulinho continued. “The fruit did something to me — to us,” he said. “I feel… connected. I can understand what they are trying to do now, on a general level.”
He realized only then that the tribespeople had begun cutting their bindings loose. He saw Julie’s hands freed, then her feet. The two warriors who had previously marched Paulinho out to the center of the lake by spearpoint were now offering him his clothes. His shirt was torn beyond repair, so he was given a long, loose-fitting one by a child who had run up to him as he spoke.
“Why are they letting us go?” Julie asked.
“They know that we are safe. They understand that we are not here to upset their way of life.”
“Yeah?” Reggie asked. “What do they think about those guys?” He motioned over to the remaining mercenaries, still tied to their tree trunks. He made the motion with the flick of his head, as he was still tied to his own pole.
Paulinho turned to address Reggie. “They do not know about them,” he said, simply. “I am the one who was drawn to them, and you are the ones who helped me return.”
“Paulinho,” Julie said. “What are you talking about? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I feel completely normal,” Paulinho said. “There’s just something… something deeper I feel as well. This tribe shares my blood. My family was descended from them.”
Julie walked over and stood next to Paulinho. Slowly, as they were untied and freed, the others joined him. The moon had risen above the edge of the tepui, causing the lake and river to light up with a white glow. In light of everything happening, he found himself struck by the beauty of the place. He turned a full circle, capturing the essence of the beautiful scenery — he hadn’t noticed most of it until now. The tall, thin waterfall fell from the top of the cliff far off in the distance, with only the sound of the gentle throb of running water to remind him that he wasn’t looking at a postcard.
“How do you know?” Julie asked. “Are you sure you’re not just hallucinating?”
Paulinho shook his head. “No, I’m sure. My grandfather used to wear this symbol on a necklace,” he said as he revealed the tattoo on his wrist and stared down at it. “We never knew the name of the tribe we were from originally, as it was generations ago we left the rainforest and settled in the city.”
Amanda was already checking Paulinho’s head for any wounds or bruises. He continued explaining. “When I was unconscious, I dreamt again. But this time it was real; it was vivid like never before. I could see faces — the faces of these same people — but from a long time ago. I know their story now, and why they’re here. They’ve always lived beneath these trees, but they’ve worshipped them as gods as well. The fruit gives them life and connects them, somehow. It opens up a channel to each of them, and they use it to communicate.”
“Really?” Reggie asked. “ESP?” He could hear the skepticism in his voice. He felt it himself.
“No, not like that,” Paulinho said. “Like shared memories, but stronger. I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“I think I do,” Amanda said. The others turned to look at her, waiting for her to explain. “It’s a chemical relationship between neurons, those associated with communication and ones that aid in memory storage. We’re only beginning to unravel the mysteries of the brain, but it’s long been assumed that humans have been suppressing some areas of our brains hidden in our evolution, including something resembling telepathy.”
“‘Resembling telepathy?’” Joshua asked, incredulously. “That’s a pretty tall order.”
“But — if it was true — wouldn’t it be something your company would do almost anything to discover?” Ben asked. “If they even thought such a thing might exist…” Julie looked up at him as he asked the question. At some point, Paulinho realized, Ben had pulled Julie close to him, his arm over her shoulder.
“Yeah,” Joshua said. “Yeah, it would. The potential…”
“It seems like I understand them now,” Paulinho said. “I don’t know how, but I know where each of them are, generally, and I can feel with them. I sense that they’re feeling pain, or joy, or fear.”
“It sounds like a hive mind,” Reggie said.
“Yes, about as close to one as we can get,” Amanda said. “This is absolutely fascinating. Our research was leading to this point, I believe. The ‘golden man,’ the chief of the tribe of El Dorado — it’s a shared memory, strengthened in their minds for generations, and it lives deep within the subconscious memories of their descendants. As we saw in the lab, most of the subjects we tested didn’t even know they had this memory. It’s part of the reason why I’ve been interested in this type of research for so long. What sorts of memories do we have hidden away? What sorts of things are locked up inside our brains that we can’t access ourselves? And the fruit — the “gold” of El Dorado, I guess — must contain a chemical that reacts with the brain and allows the ancient evolutionary traits to unlock.”
“But why?” Paulinho asked. “Why are they sending a message?”
“I think we already know the answer to that question,” Julie said. “It’s why we were able to find them.”
“It’s a homing beacon,” Joshua said.
“Right,” Julie answered. “So their tribe — their people — will always know the way home.”
“The science doesn’t check out,” Amanda said. “Shared memories, maybe. But the ability to send a message via those same channels? The ability to broadcast a location to anyone with the same blood? I don’t know. The homing beacon idea —“
“But we do know it works,” Julie said. “Paulinho is a testament to that.”
Amanda nodded. “Of course, I know. I mean, it doesn’t make sense, but that’s only because we don’t understand the mechanisms at work. It’s not out of the question, anyway: at least the parts that we already know. The stronger the neuron connections in th
e brain, the more vivid the memory. Your ancestors are from this tribe, Paulinho, and as you got physically closer to them, you were able to recall vague ‘memories’ of theirs. When you ate the fruit, it jumpstarted the process. I’d imagine it wears off quickly, but until then — what else can you tell us?”
Before Paulinho could answer, three gunshots, in rapid succession, rang out.
“Gonna have to wait, friend,” Reggie said, instinctively crouching lower to the ground. “Sounds like the party isn’t over yet.”
The rest of the group fell to the ground as well, following Reggie’s lead. Joshua remained crouched, staring at the line of mercenaries tied to poles.
“Let me guess,” Ben said, directing his words to Joshua. “Paulinho’s tribe didn’t capture all of your friends?”
65
IT HAD BEEN AN EVENTFUL day, even for Joshua. He’d seen things no man should ever experience, and he’d been in plenty of twisted situations. Still, the Amazon was new to him, and a situation like this was something he’d never thought — in his wildest dreams — he’d be a part of.
Paulinho — the man who’d not spoken a word since he’d met him, aside from his complaining about a headache — was now claiming to be part of some sort of hive mind. He thought he was able to ‘tune in’ to the frequencies of the tribe, understanding their emotional state as a whole.
It was quack science, but there was one reason he believed every word of it.
The Company believed it.
Draconis Industries, the company his own father had been a major part of growing, believed in it.
There was no other plausible explanation as to why they would spend an unbelievable amount of money trying to reach this destination. They had plenty of resources, but they weren’t wasteful. Even their double-crossing and redundancies served a purpose for them, and Joshua understood their motivations for that.
Still, he had been surprised with his father’s careless attitude about sending Rhett to follow and intercept him, and he had been surprised at the seemingly arbitrary mission parameters.
Now, however, it made sense.
The Company was, as always, acting in its best interests. It had done something with his father, pretending to be his father when they’d set up the mission, then asked his brother to keep an eye on him during the course of it all. They were after something, and it was something so important — so powerful — they were willing to risk one of their own to acquire it.
His father had paid the price for their greed, and his brother had lost his life as their pawn. Joshua felt no remorse at killing his own sibling, but he still wished he’d had time to reason with him; he wanted to explain to his brother how he had been fighting for the wrong side.
It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was getting Dr. Meron and the others back safely, without allowing his men to intercept them and complete their mission. They were in it for a paycheck, and they wouldn’t be receiving that paycheck without the prize. Joshua knew they’d fight tooth and nail to achieve their goal, and they’d kill anyone who got in their way.
He’d been one of those men, once.
It was usually easy to see the good in their duties as soldiers-for-hire, and if there wasn’t any outwardly good qualities about their mission, Joshua made something up. He fought for good, and if he had to create that good, so be it. Now, however, there was no ‘good’ in what his men were fighting for. He saw it for what it was: they were fighting for an organization that wanted nothing more than power for themselves. There was no redemption in that.
When he’d finally realized that there were two men missing from the group it was too late. Alan — one of the men he’d thought was loyal to him — and another, older soldier named Hallord were not among the mercenaries the natives had brought into their village.
They must have followed us here, he thought. The shots had come from above, but it was still unclear what direction.
“Get down!” he yelled. He ran for the nearest ‘building,’ nothing more than a collection of branches and sticks that had been piled together around a hollow rectangle. It wasn’t much for cover, but it was better than nothing.
Three more shots, this time louder and seemingly from another angle — whistled through the air and into the side of the building. The sticks and leaves exploded at impact, the bullet sizzling through the wall as if it were made out of paper.
Maybe this cover isn’t better than nothing. He instinctively ducked, but forced his head up again to see if he could get a bead on the attacker.
He didn’t see the man, but he saw the glimmer of something metallic on the man’s vest. There. Just beneath the top of the cliffs, directly across the lake from where Joshua was hiding.
It was Alan and Hallord. It had to be. And if it wasn’t for the darkness, Joshua thought they may have already taken some of them down.
The group was still encircling Paulinho at the edge of the lake. Reggie and Ben seemed to be trying to corral them all and get them running toward the tiny buildings, so Joshua took stock of the larger situation. The chief was gone, disappearing at some point after Paulinho had returned to shore and the group. The rest of the villagers, including the warriors, seemed to be focused on defending their home. There were shouts and yelling from every corner of the valley, and Joshua saw many of the men — and some of the women — gathering whatever weapons they could find.
Even with a limited supply of ammunition and only two shooters, Joshua knew the village didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t one to back away from a fight, especially since he had a personal stake in it, but the odds weren’t in his favor. He and the rest of his new group were unarmed, and that was the first problem he needed to solve.
Reggie was at his side. “What’s the call? Think we can hold them off?”
Joshua looked at the unfolding chaos then back at Reggie. Ben and the others were close behind him, waiting for him.
“No,” Joshua said. “I don’t. They’re going to free the mercenaries, then they’ll look for the weapons. The tribe probably doesn’t know what they are or they’d be using them already, but they wouldn’t have just discarded them. They took them somewhere.”
“Okay,” Ben said. “So we get to the weapons first.”
Joshua nodded, but kept his attention on the cliffs, trying to detect any movement. “Yes, that’s good. But if we can’t get to them first…”
He didn’t have to finish the statement. The rest of the group knew the risk. He looked at Paulinho. “Anything you can add? Anything that might give us an edge?”
Paulinho’s face scrunched up a bit, deep in thought. “I don’t think so, unfortunately. I feel their fear, and their confusion, but I don’t see what they see.”
“Okay, fine. We’ll make do. You and you — “ he looked at Archie and Paulinho. “You two know the tribe better than any of us, so put your heads together and figure out how this plays out.”
“You want us to stay here and…. Think?”
“No. I want you to stay here and keep her alive,” this time he motioned to Dr. Amanda Meron. “And also think. Keep your eyes open, and shout if there’s something we need to know about.”
He turned to Reggie and Ben, awaiting their response.
Reggie grinned. “That’s pretty much the plan I had,” he said. Ben nodded.
“Great. Let’s stick together, but watch your backs. Also, if you can, keep an eye on the lake. We need to know immediately when they start untying the rest of them.”
66
JOSHUA HADN’T EVEN FINISHED THE instructions before the shots rang out again. What they were aiming for, Ben didn’t know. These three shots landed somewhere else in the valley, but he heard the screams of terrified villagers echoing back. They’re shooting at the villagers now.
Ben clenched his teeth and rushed toward the next hut in the line. Joshua and Reggie were already checking two other huts, and so far they’d all come up empty-handed. He crouched down and glanced inside the hut he was standi
ng in front of and saw a family — a woman and her three children — huddled together against the back wall. They tensed when they saw him, but he held up his hands as he backed away.
Come on, he thought. They have to be around here somewhere. He tried to remember what the warriors had done after they’d stripped him of his weapons and backpack. He racked his brain, but couldn’t come up with anything useful.
We were at the edge of the valley just inside the cliffs when they tied us up. We would have seen —
He stopped. Taking a quick glance inside the next hut he came to and finding it empty, he realized something. They were checking the buildings at the center of the village, under the assumption that the villagers knew what modern weapons looked like. Following that line of logic meant that they would try to keep them safe, somewhere where they would be protected.
But if they had no idea what they were…
“Joshua! Reggie!”
Both men retreated from the buildings they were checking and looked at Ben.
“Back where we came in,” he said. “Why wouldn’t they have hidden them somewhere near the entrance?”
Joshua thought about this for a second. More gunfire — this time from both sides of them — erupted from a higher elevation and farther away. All three men ducked, but Ben realized they were still aiming at the indigenous tribespeople. He glanced over at the mercenaries and was satisfied to see them all strapped to their poles.
“Good point. Why don’t you and Reggie head over there, and I’ll take a look inside the last two buildings here.”
Ben and Reggie nodded and immediately started running toward the cliffs. As soon as they left the relative cover of the cluster of mud and stick huts, Ben felt vulnerable. The valley was completely open, save for a few trees bearing golden fruit spaced out much farther apart than he would have liked. If the mercenaries on the cliffs decided to open fire on them, they were sitting ducks. He hoped they could run fast enough or their attackers were still too far away to get a good shot.