The Arcturus Man

  Jared grabbed his equipment and put them into a small cayuco. He waved goodbye to Nele and Lopez. They would be back when they had something new to report. Jared had already been warned that Rubio and his men—about twenty this time—where no more than 2 kilometers away, farther down the coast toward Colombia. In this rain forest, 2 kilometers might as well be 200. The jungle was dense. Until you tried to walk in it, you couldn’t possible imagine how impenetrable the growth was.

  The region between Panama and Colombia was a dangerous place. Even the Panamanians tried to avoid it. Drug runners often went into that region from Colombia. The Government of Panama would frequently round up the Colombians and ship them back to Colombia. Some were refugees but many more were undesirables.

  He pushed off and began to paddle inland. The small cayuco had a very shallow draft. There weren’t many places it couldn’t go. He kept a long pole in the boat for places were it was too overgrown to paddle. He used his machete as much as possible to clear vines and branches. He wanted to leave a trail. Rubio’s men were spread out east and west looking for signs. Some of the Chocó Rubio’s men recuited had already told him of seeing a Norte Americano on the coast. Jared made sure he could be found, but not too easily. The trail had to be just right.

  It was now late afternoon. The sun was setting in the western horizon. He thought of Jenny and wondered what she was doing. It would get dark quickly. Jared had paddled and poled for about an hour. He was now deep into the rain forest. He found a large pool next to a high river bank. It looked like a good place to camp. He beached the boat and covered it with leaves and other natural debris. He grabbed his gear and began to walk inland. He loved the rain forest. He loved it almost as much as the sea. These were ancient, deep-rooted memories buried deep within his genes—deep within his genetic memory of ages past. He felt alive again. It was a familiar and welcoming home.

  Ants and other insects dropped down on him as he hacked his way deeper into the jungle. He wiped them off taking care they didn’t get under his collar. The vine snakes couldn’t be seen. They weren’t aggressive so it was simply better to forget about them, so long as he didn’t touch them. He kept going deeper. He needed to get close to the Mohinga Swamp.

  He had to get away from the river. It was never safe to camp too near the river. Jared had thick cleated boots. The canvas sides and grommeted holes allowed the boots to drain, and if it ever stopped raining, to dry. It was U.S. Army issue. The Kuna saved everything and gifted him the boots.

  The terrain was hilly. They were small hills but the forest floor was covered with rotted leaves and other slimy vegetation. It was easy to slip as you tired to climb. If you began to fall, it was almost inevitable that you would grab a palm with long black sharp needles. The needles would break within the skin. Infection was quick in the jungle. It could take less than one day—sometimes hours. It was better to simply fall if you were going to fall. Trying to catch yourself could be worse.

  Jared knew that the afternoon rain would start any minute now. He quickly built a fire. There was no danger of anyone spotting the fire or even the smoke. This was a bona fide rain forest after all. It would also be dark soon. The bats were already swooping down to catch insects attracted by the light and the fire. might get very close, but there was no danger of being hit. and they were excellent navigators.

  He found two trees with forks close to the ground. Jared ignored the bats. They They had no interest in him

  He had to get his bohio built before it got too dark. The mosquito swarms would be arriving soon as well. He cut some poles and ran them between the trees. He checked each tree to make sure it wasn’t an ant tree. It was easy to miss but when thousands of biting ants emerged they would quickly let you know that you weren’t welcomed in their tree. These weren’t ant trees.

  The bohio was important. Being just a few feet above the forest floor was all that was needed. This was, after all, the land of the fer d’lance and the bushmaster. These were deadly and aggressive snakes. They would retreat if you took measures to ensure that they could sense you coming, but first they stood their ground. Finding a bushmaster beneath your bohio in the morning wasn’t all that uncommon.

  Jared crossed the poles with smaller branches and then placed a thick layer of palm fronds on top. It was very comfortable. He strung cords higher up on the tree and formed a tent with mosquito netting. We walked into the jungle and dug out a shallow latrine.

  It started to rain. He built up the fire so it was large enough that the rain wouldn’t put it out. Everything gets wet in a rain forest. It stays wet. It was important to get used to everything being wet. It was something you simply had to accept if you were going to live in the jungle. The Kuna would say that the jungle was neither your friend nor your enemy. It merely had to be faced on its own terms—not man’s.

  The rain was good. It would keep the mosquitoes down. Jared built up the fire again and then climbed into his bohio. The growth was so thick you could be less than 10 meters from someone else and not see or hear them. The jungle was very noisy. Jared relaxed and listened to the night sounds. It was beautiful. He fell asleep quickly. As soon as he fell asleep, Jared had a dream that he has had hundreds of times before.

  He is in a book antiquarian. He is browsing through old books. He comes across the same book he always finds in this dream. He glances at the title, already knowing what it would be. Floral Rocks. He asks himself the same questions he always asks. Is this a book about mineral crystals that look like flowers? Is it about cave formations and exotic stalagmites? Is it something else? What are floral rocks? He can’t read the author’s name. It is covered in dust and the name has been partially rubbed away by age. He can never open the pages to learn what the book is about. He is distracted by the appearance of a beguiling young woman on the opposite side of the row of book cases. He looks through the shelf and can only see parts of her, one part at a time as he moves his head. She is beautiful. She is stunning. She is bare. He peaks though a lower shelf and sees a perfect, lilting breast. He straightens again and tries to see her face, but he can only see an enchanting smile, or her dark radiant eyes, or her sensuous lips. It is maddening. What does she look like? Why is she naked? They seem to be alone but there must be many people in the antiquarian. What is her name? He doesn’t know. He rushes down the aisle and back to where the mysterious girl is standing. Someone opens the front door and a blast of wind blows dust in his eyes. She is gone. The wind begins to howl. He searches aisle after aisle but cannot find her. Then he wakes.

  Jared opened his eyes, still thinking about the floral rocks girl. She was haunting him again. He shook it off. He rolled to one side to check the area below the bohio to make sure no snakes had been attracted by the warmth of his body. It was clear. He lifted the netting and swung his legs over. He stood up. What a beautiful morning. He walked outside the camp and used the latrine. He promptly covered it up again and dug a new latrine.

  The sun was up. He saw monkeys in the canopy high above him. The jungle is a raucous place. He heard an aircraft high overhead and then the droning sound of its engines died and it was gone. The airplane is unimportant. He was being distracted by his own thoughts. He had to make sure that the mistakes he made on Eagle’s Head weren’t repeated. Had he thought of everything? He inventoried his plan. Yes, everything was covered.

  Jared walked away from his camp and found a very old liana vine draped through the trees that drooped down to shoulder height. He took his machete and cut the vine as high as he could reach. He then cut it close to the ground. He held it high above his head and the water began to drain from the vine. He drank. It was cool, pure water.

  He wandered through the jungle and found what looked like it might have been a hunting camp at one time. The jungle would overgrow any abandoned camp in a year’s time but this one looked like it was much older. He found mangos and papayas. It was a wonderful breakfast although he didn’t quite care for the mango as much as papayas. The mango had a sligh
t turpentine taste to Jared.

  “ It is all about the chemicals. All life beats to the rhythm of the language of chemistry. Everything is about the chemicals,” thought Jared.

  Some people could taste the turpentine more than others. It wasn’t native to Central America so wherever it is found, it had to have been cultivated by someone in the past. It was brought to the Americas in the 17th Century. Birds distributed the seeds and now wild mangos could be found everywhere. Jared was uncertain if these trees were wild or if they had been cultivated by whoever had been living in the settlement.

  Although he had come to San Blas many times, Jared read more than a hundred books about the tropics and survival in the tropics, as well as countless books about the flora and the fauna of the region. Since he remembered anything he learned— flawlessly—he was an expert. Even the Kuna were sometimes amazed by his knowledge. When the Kuna Sailas spoke of Jared, they said that the spirit of the earth was within him. He knew some things that only the very old Kuna knew. Sadly, the current generation of Kuna were slowly loosing their knowledge of the old ways. All of the Kuna helping him were older men. Two were well into their seventies. Most were in their fifties and sixties. The youngest was fifty-four.

  Jared picked up a spear and walked to the river bank. The river attracted everything so he was very careful. He made enough noise so that all living creatures would know of his arrival before he got there. He climbed a tree, found a comfortable posture, and froze. He sat passively without moving or making a sound. It wasn’t more than twenty minutes before what he was looking for arrived. It was a peccary, a wild pig native to the Americas.

  “Tayassu tajacu,” thought Jared. He had anointed the peccary by its name.

  Jared had spotted a nearby mud wallow yesterday. He carefully looked around. They sometimes moved in herds and they had razor sharp tusks. If there were others, they weren’t close. He aimed his spear and with a burst of energy, drove it through the body. Still careful that others weren’t near, he skinned it on the spot and threw the debris from the carcass into the river. Nothing went to waste in the rain forest.

  He cleaned a stout green branch of its bark and ran it through the peccary. He hauled it back to his camp site. He built up the fire again. He washed his hands carefully. He had some antiseptic soap in his pack. Jared quickly constructed a spit arrangement over the fire and placed the peccary close to the fire. He unwrapped some lose tin sheets he had in his pack and constructed a reflector behind the fire. Peccary was a delicacy. He would cook it slow but he would also cook it very well done. Parasites were in everything and had to be killed.

  Without the rain the fire was hot and didn’t burn with too much smoke. No one would see the fire and probably not the smoke, but the odor of the roasting peccary could travel a long way. That was OK. Jared sat back on his bohio and relaxed. He was enjoying this. This was great. He wished that Jenny was with him. She would love this too. He sat there for several hours. He was thinking. He was always thinking. He couldn’t turn it off. Mediation helped but not long enough. He couldn’t meditate all day long. Not every day.

  Suddenly, Jared sensed that someone was approaching. There was no sound. There was no movement, but someone was getting close to his camp. Jared focused.

  “Hola, Lopez,” said Jared.

  The disappointment in Lopez’s eyes was obvious. He had been warned by Jeronimo that it was impossible to sneak up on Jared, but he had to try.

  “Hola, Jared.” It was an embarrassed greeting. From then on, they only spoke in Kuna.

  Lopez cut meat off the peccary and ate. He liked peccary. The men talked. Lopez told Jared that Rubio and his men were very close now. If Jared would move his camp they could delay the encounter until the next morning. Jared said that the encounter had to be this evening, shortly before sunset. Lopez didn’t understand but he agreed. It was now just after noontime. It would take Rubio several hours to get to Jared’s camp site.

  Jared asked how many Kuna were with him. He said that there were seven others. Idel couldn’t come because of his bad back and asked that Jared forgive him. Idel was watching over Jenny so he was still helping. Jared told Lopez that Idel’s courage was known by everyone. Forgiveness was unnecessary. Jared reminded Lopez to make certain that his men kept their distance. Rubio’s men had guns. He asked if they were laying a trail for Rubio to follow. They were. Jared explained that Rubio had automatic weapons and devices that permitted them to see in the dark, although those devices probably wouldn’t work that well in the jungle at night. The Kuna had single shot rifles they used mostly for hunting. He didn’t want any of the Kuna injured or killed. Lopez promised that everyone would be very careful. Jared said that a half hour before sunset he would place the remains of the peccary into the coals of the fire so the odor of cooking pig is very strong. On hearing that, Lopez cut another piece. A large piece. It was a very good peccary.

  Lopez told Jared that Rubio had hired a guide from the Chocó people who live in the Darien province—that is the area that borders Colombia. He said that most were good people and that he doubted that the guide had been told the full purpose of the hunt for Jared. He told Lopez that they should take no risks but if it was possible to try not to kill Rubio’s men. Jared had planned this encounter very carefully. It was not going to be like what happened on Eagle’s Head. Jared would have absolutely no sense of guilt or regret if Rubio or his men were killed, but he decided that it was important to Jenny that there be as little death as possible. He asked Lopez to tell the rest that they should try to wound and to not kill if it could be safely avoided. He explained that taking care of a wounded man was like taking two men out of the action—not just one. It might actually bring this to closure much sooner. Rubio’s men were professionals. They wouldn’t be easy to kill or wound. Everyone had to be very cautious. It wasn’t worth risking the lives of the Kuna. Still, he felt confident that his enemies could be routed with little or no lose of life. The Kuna were experts in this jungle. They could take care of themselves. So could Jared.

  Lopez asked Jared about the quality of Rubio’s men. He was concerned because he heard they were all Colombians. Jared explained that it was probable that they were city people even though they were from Colombia or perhaps Venezuela. The Panamanian jungle would be terrifying for most of them. Lopez was pleased. His mother, the rain forest, could be an angry woman if she was not understood.

  Jared sat next to the fire and meditated. His senses were alert to his surroundings. He didn’t move as several hours passed. Lopez slept. Soon, the sun was close to the horizon. Tonight there would be a new moon. The jungle will be absolutely dark tonight. It wasn’t going to rain tonight. That helped. He had to taunt Rubio and his men to give them a sense that he could be had. It would be dangerous to bring them so close but if he didn’t they would wait until the morning to close in for the kill. He gambled everything on Rubio making a fatal error in judgment and that meant that Rubio had to smell a kill.

  Jared sensed Jeronimo well before he was close to the camp. Jeronimo walked into the clearing and sat on his haunches. He cut some peccary and ate before he spoke. Although sound didn’t travel well in the jungle, Jeronimo whispered as they spoke. Rubio was 200 meters from the camp. He was moving slow and cautiously, making no noise. They had stopped hacking with their machetes as soon as the smell of the cooking fire was sensed.

  Jared knew that he had to be very careful to time it just right. He warned Jeronimo that Rubio’s men had glasses that allowed them to see in the night, but the light amplifiers needed some light. There wasn’t enough to do much good. The infrared illuminators had short range. It wouldn’t help them that much but they may be able to see 10 or 20 meters in clearings, but there were few clearings. The jungle was thick and even when there was light it was difficult to see more than about 5 to 10 meters. Jeronimo didn’t entirely understand but agreed to warn the others about this. There were a total of seven Kuna with him. They were facing 20. Jared pushed the last of
the peccary into the fire and waved to Jeronimo to leave. Jeronimo disappeared into the rain forest, followed a few minutes later by Lopez.

  Jared waited. He sensed Rubio was slowly closing in. Still, he waited. The odor of burning peccary was strong and Rubio was approaching from down wind. Then he saw movement. It wasn’t more than 10 meters away. There was still some late sunlight filtering through the canopy. It was the Chocó guide. Jared waited until he saw him push through the undergrowth. Their eyes locked. He wasn’t carrying a weapon. “That was lucky,” thought Jared. Jared was illuminated by the camp fire. He bolted into the jungle and headed for the Mohinga swamp.

  Rubio signaled to his men to be quiet. Their guide ran up to him excitedly and told him that he had seen the man they were looking for. Rubio smiled. It would be over soon.

  He warned his men to stop chattering among themselves. He grew up near a jungle and spent many years in his youth exploring. He loved the jungle. These men were mostly from the cities. They were marvelous killers but the insects and the sharp needles of the palm were taking their toll on their morale.

  They carefully broke into the small clearing where Jared had set up camp. Their rifles were on the ready. The fat from the burning peccary was crackling in the coals. Rubio crouched close to the fire an examined the collapsed spit and the smoldering carcass. Something wasn’t right. Had Jared accidentally toppled the spit as he was running or was this deliberate? Rubio was suspicious. This was a lure. But why?

  The Chocó man spotted the trail left by Jared. Two of Rubio’s men ignited flares and threw them down the trail to see if it was an ambush. The jungle was too dense and it didn’t do much good. Rubio signaled his men to stop. His instincts told him that this was a trap but several of the men had already fanned out in a pincer movement they had practiced that morning. They were out of sight. Rubio grabbed his handset and radioed to his men to be very vigilant for a trap. They must move slowly. They all slowed, but they didn’t stop. Rubio wanted to bring his men back to the camp and to wait until morning but the man walking point reported over his headset that Jared was just in front of him. Shots rang out. It was a quick burst of automatic fire. The men began to run toward the gun fire. Rubio relented. Maybe Jared had been hit. He began to run too.