by Greig Beck
He slowed his descent. The flat surface started to show definite chisel marks, which became recognizable shapes – writing.
With the Ndege gone, Matt could only guess at how the writing had been formed – either underwater or when the level was somewhat lower. He drifted back a few feet to take in more of the message – absorbing the glyphs, images, and impressions. The ancient language was complex, and took skill and patience to unravel.
“Let not … the unclean … pass back to the land of man.” As Matt tested those words against a few other possible translations, he saw that Kurt’s light had disappeared. In a panic he kicked himself downward, following Kurt’s rope into the gloom.
The blackness made Matt feel claustrophobic. He could have been at the bottom of the deepest ocean trench, so complete was the darkness. The small pipe of light from his mask did little to dispel the eerie nothingness surrounding him. His rational mind knew he was no more than twenty-five feet below the surface … the problem was, his imagination was trying to stop him from believing it.
He continued along Kurt’s rope, pausing to repressurize his ears before swimming on. At about thirty feet he was feeling the pressure of the dive, and his muscles were becoming fatigued from the strain of swimming and keeping his body below the water. Kurt’s rope veered toward the wall and snaked its way into a huge horizontal hole in the column, heading under the massive crater wall. Matt paused for a second or two, sucked in a huge lungful of compressed air, and then followed.
He pulled himself along Kurt’s rope, not caring now if he was causing additional drag on the tether. He was over it. The oppressive darkness was making him feel tiny, alone, and extremely vulnerable. Kurt and his rope were the only links to his own world.
Suddenly the rope went taut, and then slack in his hands. Matt’s eyes widened as he realized that Steinberg’s bodyguard had somehow become untethered. Matt had a moment of indecision, wondering whether he should continue, when he realized that he could see something farther along the tunnel… without using his light. There was a tongue of green up ahead. He swam on.
In a few seconds, he saw a shimmering disk above him as he rose to the surface. His head broke through into another humid landscape, Kurt’s rope dangling uselessly in his hands.
Large hands grabbed him under the shoulders and lifted him free. Kurt plonked him on the ground and then stood back and waved his arms in a theatrical arc.
“Welcome to paradise.”
EPISODE 2: PARADISE – a world within a world
CHAPTER 17
Megan pushed her wet hair off her face and turned to the green walls of the strange jungle. “We’re through the looking glass.” She straightened. “It’s so … different.”
Matt sat with Carla, Joop, and Jian just a few feet away, drying off. He paused to look around again. “Different” didn’t begin to describe how dramatically the vegetation had changed from one side of the crater wall to the other.
Before them were all manner of ferns and fronds – fat bromeliad, gingko, and unidentifiable trees, nightmarish twisted shapes covered in bark that was like dark scales, or damp hair. Other trees, if that’s what they could be called, were rod-straight, and rose hundreds of feet in the air. They were like dark columns without branches until they reached an umbrella of ferns at their very tip. Most were draped in dangling vines, many with pendulous fruits or huge seed pods, and red-veined leaves as wide as a handspan.
Megan turned to grin at Matt. “It’s beautiful.”
Matt stood up for a better look. At ground level there were fern fronds, both broad and fleshy tongues and rapier-like straps. Sliding over them was an almost transparent cotton candy mist, just touching their tips.
He turned slowly. The huge wall behind them continued in both directions, an enormous barrier that disappeared into a distance that Matt already knew stretched for over twenty miles. On the crater basin wall, it was hard to tell where the cliffs ended and the vines began, so completely had they meshed together.
Megan squinted into the distance, shaking her head in awe. Matt turned to the group. Behind him, Steinberg and Kurt talked softly. Kurt held a handful of plastic and Steinberg listened, then nodded. Kurt was their only guide now – they hadn’t been able to convince Moema to follow them through.
“Hey.” Matt motioned with his head. “Look up.” They all did. “The canopy is intertwined with the thorn vines – the trees here are a vastly different species, and the vines have managed to grow all through them. Pretty effective way to keep things out – a cage with poisonous bars.”
“Pretty effective way of keeping things in, too,” Carla observed.
Megan lifted her arm, looking at the healing finger, and then at the skin on her forearm. “It’s kinda nice … that soft red glow from the light passing through the flowers. It’s like permanent twilight from a red sky.”
Matt looked along the thick canopy. Megan was right – the red flowers were crowding the ceiling for as far as the eye could see. The fading sun passing through the diaphanous petals cast a soft glow, like a red scarf thrown over a lamp.
“This has got to be a new species,” Joop observed.
“Or a very old one,” said Jian.
Matt turned to Megan. “Anyone want to guess why the Ndege called this the blood jungle?”
“Yeah, well, I certainly hope that’s the only reason.” Carla’s brows had come together. “At least the heat isn’t as bad … still humid, but more like a giant natural greenhouse.”
Matt shook more moisture from his head. “It’s awesome – misted atmosphere, isolated and separated – in a word, it looks and feels … primordial.”
“Primordial?” Steinberg’s voice close behind him made Matt jump. “Perfect – that’s exactly what you’d expect when searching for a primordial specimen, wouldn’t you say?” Steinberg looked around. “Seen anything yet? Ms. Nero, Ms. Hannaford?”
Megan turned to the jungle. “No, not yet. Plenty of movement farther away from the crater wall. I think anything living here has learned to give the wall and the thorns a wide berth. We’ve all heard movement in the thicker underbrush – nothing flying, though. Looks to me like a pristine jungle – it could have been this way for millions for years. Perhaps even long before …”
“And it’s all ours.” Steinberg looked from Megan to Matt. “Well done.”
“You’re joking, right?” Megan’s hands were on her hips, her chin forward.
Steinberg shrugged. “Oh, I mean from a corporate perspective.”
“Not even,” Carla added.
“We’ll just buy it – it’s empty land as far as Brazil is concerned.”
Matt snorted. “Good luck with that. By the way, there was something interesting on the way down, carved into the wall – more Ndege writing. It said something like: ‘Let not the unclean pass back to the land of man.’”
The silence hung for a moment, then Steinberg made a circling motion in the air with his finger. “And … that’s it? These guys actually talked like this all the time … in riddles?”
“These are meant to be warnings,.” Matt was annoyed by the sarcastic tone.
“So, clean of body, clean of mind … maybe clean of soul? Which is it? Or is it all of the above?”
“Don’t know yet. They’re not exactly around to ask.”
Steinberg grunted. “Neither is Dan Brenner, more’s the pity.”
Matt ignored the jibe.
“What do you think, Matt?” Carla tilted her head. “Could it be about the thorns, or something worse?”
“Oh shit – remember Moema’s grandfather telling him about the screaming?” Megan looked over her shoulder at the jungle.
Matt shrugged. “I don’t know what their definition of ‘unclean’ was. Maybe there was some sort of purification process they used to perform, either out there, or before they returned.”
“Possibly some sort of protection against a threat, real or imagined.” Carla grunted. “We need to keep a lookout
for any more Ndege writing.”
“It’s too bad the Ndege are gone,” said Megan. “If it was something other than spiritual, we’re going to need to piece that cleansing process together. Could be vital for treating the infestation.”
“Too bad indeed.” Steinberg clapped his hands once, and made a show of looking at his watch. “We’re losing light, and it’s too late to investigate today, but first thing tomorrow, we’ll be hiking into the crater jungle. No one will be forced to go. In fact, I insist that everyone thinks carefully before deciding to come along. After all, we’re not sure what it is we’ll find in there.”
Steinberg smirked as he studied their faces. Matt knew that they’d all go; no one had come this far to stay behind and mind the bags.
Joop cleared his throat loudly. It was rare for the tall man to speak. “I think … I think this is important, what Mr. Steinberg has said. This jungle might be an example of an evolutionary partition – a physical separation of the old world from the new. Things can be snap frozen in an evolutionary stage as long as environmental, predatory, and geological conditions do not change. Alternatively, whole new species could have evolved. Any jungle is dangerous, but I believe this jungle is more so, as there is an element of the unknown, unexperienced, and unpredictable, making it extremely alien to human life. We have no idea what we could encounter, and should think hard before we proceed.”
Megan leaned in close to Matt. “Cool.”
Joop became more animated. “Mr. Steinberg, if you can get a signal out, then you should try to organize for more resources. We should have a full team with the proper equipment.”
“Seriously? You’re getting cold feet, Professor van Onertson?” Steinberg pulled a face. “The Ndege had been coming in here for who knows how many generations, and the only thing that fucking killed them was us.” He roared with laughter, which echoed down at them from the canopy overhead.
Joop pursed his lips, and repositioned his glasses on his long nose.
Carla folded her arms. “I’m going in, but I agree we need more resources. Might I remind you of why I’m here? There’s a significant parasitic infestation occurring in the United States – something never before seen by modern man. Who knows what else is in here.” She stared hard at Steinberg. “You should make the call.”
Steinberg looked a little uncomfortable. “Can’t.”
“Why not?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Battery’s dead.”
“Oh fuck.” Megan turned away from him.
Steinberg shook his head and pulled a face. “Lighten up. There’s a spare back at the Ndege camp. I just didn’t think I’d be spending quite so long on the phone to the chopper pilot … or my scriptwriters. Got a big movie coming up, and what do you know, the world doesn’t stop turning just because we’re down here.”
His head jutted out on his thick neck. “We set off tomorrow morning and if all goes to plan, we’ll be heading back by the afternoon. Maybe even sooner, if we get lucky – who knows? Okay with all of you?”
Carla sat back down, waving him away. Steinberg turned his glare on Megan, who nodded. He went from person to person. No one opted out.
“Good.” He turned, mumbling to Kurt about dinner, and sauntered to the other side of the pool, away from the group.
*****
Matt woke sore across the shoulders and back, with a raspy throat. He had been tossing and turning, his dark dreams a frightening montage of buried tunnels and things pursuing him through age-old labyrinths in a freezing underworld. He sat up and rubbed his face, then pulled his hands away and sniffed them. He could still smell a slight odor from the water in the sinkhole.
Megan groaned and rolled onto her back, a small, regular squeak coming from her blocked nose. It was just after dawn, and even though the sun was up, in the eternal twilight under the canopy it was still dark, and would remain that way for at least another hour.
Matt could hear movement from outside their tent – probably Kurt, stoking the fire or trying to find something edible for breakfast. Much as he wanted to avoid the big bodyguard, Matt needed to go and relieve himself.
He came out into a surprisingly cool and misted atmosphere. Kurt turned and nodded, an armful of sticks at his side. He waved his hand, indicating the mist that surrounded them. “As we expected; must be a large, cool body of water interacting with the warmer air … or is it the other way around?”
Matt half smiled. “You were right the first time – invection fog – warm air over cooler water.”
Kurt grunted. “And how’s sleeping beauty? Any further ill effects from the thorn jab?”
Matt shook his head. “No, I think she’s okay. John will look her over again, though. Problem is, she wouldn’t tell us even if we asked. She’s pretty wilful when she wants to be.”
Kurt dropped the sticks in a pile beside the smoldering fire. “That’s good. Bad ju-ju, those freakin’ thorns – never seen anything like it.” He stretched. “You’re a lucky man. Woman like that … I wouldn’t be bringing her down here.” Kurt raised his eyebrows and then kneeled to softly break sticks over his knee, piling them onto the red-gray ashes of the previous evening’s fire.
Matt thought about ignoring him, and turned to survey the best place to empty his bladder. Then he turned back.
“And did you? Leave your own girl back home?”
Kurt laughed softly. “I left dozens of them back home. I like to spread myself around a little.”
Matt winced.
“She why you took a swing at me?”
Matt groaned, and thought about lying. “I thought maybe, that you two …”
Kurt stopped what he was doing. “Seriously? Me and Megan?” He shook his head. “You think I’m fucking crazy? Listen, I’ve got enough to worry about without putting the moves on some guy’s girl in the middle of the Amazon jungle.” He snorted. “Don’t worry about it; she’s only interested in you.”
Matt turned, sucking in one cheek. ‘Thanks … I was just …”
“Forget it.” Kurt went back to snapping twigs. “So, why are you here?”
“Here, now?” Matt turned back, confused by the question.
“Yup. Down here, in the Grand Chaco. What’s in it for you? I get why Max’s team is here – the big bucks. I get why Dr. Nero is here. And of course Ms. Hannaford is here because you’re here. But you? What brought you here? Steinberg ain’t payin’ you, and this is no garden tour.”
Matt felt a little embarrassed to admit that Carla basically forced him to come along. He tucked his hands into his back pockets. “Helping Carla out, I guess.”
“Saving the world?” Kurt looked up, grinned, and started to coax the fire into a flame.
“Maybe. I’ve seen what this parasite can do to people. It’s serious – Steinberg should respect it … and Dr. Nero.”
“He let you come … that’s more than he usually allows. The man certainly knows how to get his way.”
“Yeah, he pays for it.” Matt snorted, and looked down at Kurt breaking twigs. “And you? Just here as a hired hand; Steinberg’s muscle?”
The big man shrugged. “I’ve been with Max for ten years. I helped him when he went looking for the Persepolis vaults in Iran.” He looked up. “Got him to shelter in a sandstorm and then carried him out of the desert.”
“That was you? That was all over the news.”
“Yep … been pulling him out of storms, fires, and fights ever since.” He got to his feet. “He’s one of the toughest men I know; self-made, works and plays hard, and sharp as a tack. I’ve seen the guy reduce agents and megastars to tears.” He gave Matt a half smile. “He’s not a bad guy, when you really get to know him. Self-absorbed, a little arrogant, but overall, you can count on him to do the right thing.”
Matt nodded, not convinced. “So, you think you’ll catch him his specimen?”
Kurt looked out into the jungle, and then nodded. “I’ve tracked and caught all manner of species. If that lizard bird is in there,
I’ll catch him one.” He turned back. “Once I do, I can promise you that I’ll be doing my darndest to convince him to pack up and ship out. The rainy season is a bitch, and I certainly don’t fancy sleeping under waterfalls.”
Matt nodded. “I hear that. I hope you’re right – and I hope Carla finds her answers, too. Otherwise she might not leave.”
A loud fart emanating from the tent set up a distance away from the others made Matt raise his eyebrows. “His master’s voice?”
Kurt laughed softly. “I’ll take him a coffee … ah, in a few minutes, when the gas cloud has cleared.” He paused. “One thing … for Dr. Nero’s sake – you’d better convince her to leave when we all do. That’s something else I know about Mr. Steinberg – he won’t wait, and he won’t come back for anybody.”
*****
The sun was climbing higher in the sky and huge columns of filtered light dropped down into the jungle around them. The group had eaten a small meal of dried meat and black powdered coffee, and was eager to start the day.
“Hey!” Kurt’s voice was hushed but forceful, and froze Megan to the spot, just as she was about to move into the line of fronds edging the true jungle beyond the pool. She looked like she was about to argue when Matt pulled her back.
“He’s right. This is no time to be separating. Remember, we’re a long way from home, Toto.” Matt grinned harmlessly, seeing the annoyance still on her face. He suddenly wondered why he had intervened – it would have been much better if she were pissed off with Kurt.
She rolled her eyes, but came back to the group, sitting down again. She looked at her arm – red from the soft glow.
Matt watched as Kurt set about unpacking some of his bags. Collapsible cages were put to the side, a long case – which he opened briefly – displayed a long-barreled rifle with telescopic sight, broken down into individually packed segments. A tranquilizer, Matt suspected. Next came ropes, soft netting, and some small plastic canisters with what looked like ring pulls.
Carla had joined Jian and Joop and together they examined their own equipment. Matt suddenly felt about as useful as a barrel with a hole in it.