by Carrie Regan
Before Ned could formulate a response, Graham had moved past him to embrace Tanya and congratulate her once again on the show. It didn’t matter. The executive producer had already told him what he wanted to hear. This was only the beginning.
CHAPTER 49
The hours passed quickly as Liz, AJ, and Alex pressed on through the jungle. Just when they started to think the smoke was a figment of their collective imagination, the path led them to a clearing and the most unexpected of sights.
It was a small, primitive camp. A fire, the source of the smoke, smoldered in the center, heating the liquid contents of a small bubbling cauldron. A half shell of bent branches and thick leaves sheltered a single hammock.
Suddenly, the hammock moved. A pair of legs clad in white cotton trousers swung over the side, and a figure slowly emerged from the shadows.
He was a tall white man, fit and tan, hair graying at the temples, sporting a loose cotton frock that matched his trousers.
“Welcome,” he said, as though he’d been expecting them. When he spoke, he gestured with a cup hand-carved from a gourd.
“Well, I’ll be,” Alex whispered. “Who do we have here?”
Liz and AJ, equally awed, blinked in astonishment and responded in unison. “Lawrence Julian Thompson.”
CHAPTER 50
“Mr. Warner?” a muffled voice called. It seeped into his skull and rattled about painfully.
Bill Warner opened his eyes to a sudden flood of light and instantly regretted it.
“Mr. Warner, are you okay?” the grating voice repeated.
“Peg-Peggy?” he began. His mouth was bone dry, and he struggled to swallow, hoping it would stimulate saliva flow.
“Here, this will help,” she said, handing him a glass of water.
As he took a greedy sip, the previous night slowly came back to him: His conversation with Lee. Bill’s excuses. Lee’s regret-filled decision. Bill’s begging. Lee’s apologizing. Bill’s shameless sobbing.
Fortunately, the shameless sobbing had occurred after they’d hung up, after Bill had started packing up his office, after he’d decided that there was no way in hell he was going to leave a drop of booze in his bar for his replacement.
He held his throbbing head in his hands and winced. Peggy vanished, and when she reappeared with three aspirin, he took the pills gratefully. “Has Lee called?” he asked cautiously.
Peggy nodded. “He asked me to book him a flight. Said he had some meetings here with NBC.”
“NBC?” he asked, disgusted. He should have known. The relationship he had so expertly crafted, so cautiously nurtured, would now be exploited and no doubt mismanaged in the hands of incompetents. His gaze traveled around his office, at the evidence of his four-year career at Adventure. None of it mattered anymore. Just weeks ago, he was master of this universe. And now? And now…
“Missed a swell party last night, Mr. Warner,” Peggy said, hoping to cheer him. She noticed the assortment of empty liquor bottles at her feet and began to collect them. “Though it looks like you had a little party yourself.” She let the bottles fall into his wastebasket with a clatter that ricocheted inside his cranium.
“Peggy, that’s enough,” he said, waving her off. She turned to him, obviously hurt. “Sorry. I need a little alone time.”
“You just let me know if you need anything else, Mr. Warner. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” she said, finishing in a whisper.
Tell whoever you want, he thought bitterly. He pressed his feet to the ground, testing the sturdiness of his legs, and slowly got up. Once standing, he exhaled, feeling as though he’d already accomplished more than enough for the day. He took a step, found it less painful than expected, and followed it with another. Gradually, he made it to his desk.
He peered through a slit in the blinds, then jerked them open with a quick tug on the cord. Forty stories below, the streets were clogged with typical mid-morning traffic. Despite the debacle of the previous evening, life continued as it always had, as it always would. The realization slowly, gradually invigorated him. His failure, like his so recent success, would soon be forgotten. And when that happened, he’d be back. They hadn’t seen the last of Bill Warner.
He picked up his briefcase and a box of mementos from his years with Adventure. Reaching for the handle of his door, he considered what was waiting on the other side, and was flooded with a sudden desire for a private office entrance, one that wouldn’t force him to walk the gauntlet of his curious employees – scratch that – his curious former employees. Quickly, he pushed the thought aside. Throwing his shoulders back proudly, he lifted his chin defiantly, opened the door, and stepped forward into the florescent glare.
CHAPTER 51
“Liz, AJ, Alex. Welcome to the land of the Bambada,” Thompson said matter-of-factly. “You’ve had quite a journey, and must be tired. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to three mats laid out in the corner of the clearing, then turned and retreated into the small shelter.
“So you weren’t lying about Thompson,” Alex remarked to AJ.
“Yeah. And it sounds like he knows all about your friends,” AJ whispered back.
He didn’t just know about the Bambada, Liz though. The eccentric old man seemed to know exactly who they were as well. And if he knew about Alex, maybe he’d help them…
Alex, meanwhile, seemed to read her mind. With a quick, cautious glance to make sure Thompson wasn’t watching, Alex withdrew the revolver, pressed the barrel to his lips with a threatening “shhh!”, and replaced it in his waistband.
Thompson, oblivious, dusted off three battered tin cups in the back of the shelter. Humming quietly, he filled each with water from a beat-up canteen.
“You’re not seated!” he scolded, finding them just as he’d left them. “I know it’s not the Ritz, but please, make yourselves comfortable.”
Liz and AJ traded glances as they set their packs down and took a seat. Alex, meanwhile, remained standing, guarding his hostages. “Excuse me, but you say you know of the Bambada?” he ventured.
“Know of them? I live with them.” The three visitors looked around his meager camp skeptically. “No, not here,” he chuckled. “Deeper in the jungle. This is just a temporary camp. I came out here to meet you.”
Liz looked at AJ, her face registering concern for the apparently senile old explorer, then turned to the anthropologist and spoke slowly, carefully. “Dr. Thompson, we’re part of a-“
“-a television crew, from the Adventure Channel. Sent here to find me,” Thompson said with a wave of his hand as he gestured to the cups in front of them. “Please, have a drink. It’s water from the Nburu, the same you’ve been enjoying.”
“But how do you-“ Liz started to ask.
“Isn’t it obvious? He knows! He lives with the Bambada, and he’s discovered their secret. You share their power, don’t you?” Alex asked Thompson excitedly, coming within inches of his face to examine him. Thompson merely smiled placidly in response. “Go ahead and quiz him. Your dog’s name. Your grandmother’s birthday. The results of your next Presidential election. He’ll know it all. I’d stake my life on it.”
Thompson chuckled modestly. “Now Alex, I don’t like to show off. But I must say, that’s a fine black lab you have, AJ. Rufus, isn’t it? And Liz, don’t forget Grandma Lizbeth’s birthday next month. It’s the tenth, and while her eyes aren’t as sharp as they used to be, you can always find recordings of those mystery novels she likes so much.”
The cup that Liz had politely raised without any intention of touching to her lips fell from her hand, its contents spilling on the mat in front of her.
“Now look what I’ve done,” Thompson said. “I should have known not to show off.”
“So it’s true!” Alex said, eyes aglow. “The rumors of limitless knowledge, the power to read minds, see the future. It’s all true, isn’t it?”
“Yes, all true.”
“I knew it!” Alex clapped in glee. “But with power l
ike that, why do you stay here? Have they forced you? Are they watching now?” He looked about cautiously, one hand moving toward his gun.
Thompson shook his head with a chuckle. “It’s simple. I’ve been searching for an idyllic little community like the Bambada my whole life.”
“Wait a minute. I thought they were ‘bloodthirsty savages’?” AJ interrupted, confused.
Thompson laughed. “Quite the contrary. They have the perfect society. No greed, no lies, no deception, no crime. They’re anything but savages.”
“Jolly good for them,” Alex said impatiently. “How about their fortune?”
“Just as you’ve heard. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires…more than you’ve ever dreamed possible. Though I must say, we have little use for it out here.” Thompson turned to the cauldron, dipping his cup into the bubbling liquid.
“Perfect. Then they won’t mind giving it to me. So where are they?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you that!”
“Right. I imagine the directions would be a bit difficult, ‘Left at the third tree,’ and whatnot. No worries. Just take us to them,” Alex said, tone shifting to an order.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that either,” Thompson said, settling down next to Liz and AJ before taking a long sip from his cup.
Liz’s shoulders collapsed in exasperation. It would have been the perfect moment for Thompson to set an escape plan in motion. Instead, he’d thrown it away. She knew that Alex wouldn’t have the patience for much more of this nonsense, and began to panic, certain that Thompson would only get them deeper into trouble.
As though to prove her point, Alex withdrew his gun. “My friend here says that you can, and will.”
Thompson glanced at the weapon with disgust as he calmly refilled Liz’s cup. “I wish I could, but I can’t. They won’t show themselves to you,” Thompson said simply. Just then, something dashed through the brush behind them. Their heads turned simultaneously, only to see a collection of quivering branches.
“They’re here!” Alex exclaimed.
“Perhaps,” Thompson said calmly.
“I’ve come too far, and worked too long to play games. Take me to them now, or I’ll-“
“You’ll what?” Thompson laughed. “Kill me? You won’t do that.”
“I won’t?” Alex asked. He paced the clearing arrogantly and raised his voice to the jungle. “I’ll kill him! Show yourselves, or I’ll kill your friend here, and his lovely visitors!”
A breeze blew through the canopy, rustling the leaves overhead. Thompson shook his head, while Liz and AJ drew closer together.
“You have to stop him,” Liz whispered frantically to Thompson. “He’s already killed our friends-“
Thompson raised a hand, cutting her off with a gesture that said “Patience, patience.” “He’ll be the architect of his own demise, I promise you,” he whispered in return.
Frustrated, Alex yanked down the hammock, tossed it aside, and set upon the shelter.
“Tell him it’s not true. Tell him the Bambada don’t exist,” Liz said, pleading with Thompson, close to tears. “He’s crazy. He’ll kill us.”
“But they do exist,” Thompson replied simply.
Branch by branch, Alex tore the shelter apart. He didn’t stop until he was covered in sweat and surrounded by discarded vegetation. “You must have some of it here! You must have some of their treasure,” Alex panted, surveying the wreckage. Spotting nothing of interest, he let out a scream of frustration, then focused his rage-filled gaze on Thompson. Slowly, he withdrew the gun, rested the end of the barrel on Thompson’s skull, and cocked it. “I’ll give you one last chance, grandpa. Where are they? Where is the treasure?”
“The Bambada’s greatest treasure is right in front of you,” he said through an unwavering smile.
Slowly, Alex lowered the gun. “Greatest treasure?” He turned from Thompson to the bubbling cauldron – the only thing left untouched during his rampage. “What is it?” he asked, kneeling next to the pot, sniffing it like an animal.
“It’s the Bambada’s biggest secret – their special tea, from the Nburu tree,” Thompson said, “and the source of the Bambada’s greatest gift of all.”
“Their powers,” Alex whispered greedily.
“Yes.”
“You just drink it?”
“One sip, and the world opens up. It’s miraculous.”
“Good. Then I’ll use it to find the Bambada myself. And their fortune.” Alex grabbed the cup from Liz’s hand, tossed out the water, and scooped up the tea.
“You try it first,” he said, thrusting the cup at Thompson. He shrugged, and drank deeply from it. “That’s enough,” Alex said, snatching it back. He verified that half the tea was gone. “How much do I have to drink for it to work?”
“That should be plenty,” Thompson assured him.
Liz was scarcely able to sit still, wondering what Thompson was up to. AJ tensed, preparing to charge Alex given the slightest opportunity, but Thompson waved him back with a gentle gesture. Perhaps, they thought, he had a plan after all.
Alex paused, looked into the cup once again, then raised it. “To…” he began, searching for something to toast. He suddenly smiled. “To enormous wealth, to boundless knowledge...and to me.” That said, he brought the cup to his lips, tipped it back, and drank.
Liz and AJ exchanged glances, while Thompson watched expectantly.
Alex drained the cup, smacked his lips, and tossed the vessel into the bushes with a clang. He stood, hands on hips, waiting for the magical liquid to take effect. Suddenly, his expression changed. “I feel something. Whoa,” he said, steadying himself. “Yeah, this is it. It’s coming.” He belched, then laughed nervously. “Maybe that wasn’t it.” He swallowed hard, face pinched with anxious anticipation.
Liz and AJ watched silently. “This isn’t going to be pretty,” Thompson warned.
Alex glanced at his watch and forced a laugh. The laugh turned into a cough that seemed mild at first, but quickly grew so intense that Alex was soon doubled over, hands on knees, retching uncontrollably. Fighting for breath, he glared at Thompson. “You tricked me!” he gasped.
“No. I gave you what you asked for,” Thompson corrected.
“But Thompson drank it too,” Liz whispered to AJ, who shook his head, confused.
Alex collapsed into a fit of convulsions, retching blood. He continued to gag, tearing at his chest and choking as blood collected in his lungs and throat. After a final wheezing attempt to draw a breath, he fell to his hands and knees, then collapsed on the ground limply, where he remained, motionless.
CHAPTER 52
Aghast, Liz stared at the body, one hand clamped over her mouth, the other squeezing AJ’s arm. “Is he dead?” AJ asked.
“Yes,” Thompson said casually. “It was inevitable.”
“I don’t understand. We saw you drink from the same cup,” Liz said.
“Come. I’ll explain. Leave your things. No one will take them.” He motioned for Liz and AJ to follow him to a wide trailhead at the back of the camp.
“They’ll bury him with the others,” Thompson said. “We’ve had a grave waiting with his name on it for a while.”
Confused and emotionally exhausted, Liz and AJ abandoned the body and followed Thompson.
“So, what exactly happened back there?” AJ asked.
Thompson clasped his hands behind his back and reflected for a few moments before speaking. “Let me start from the beginning, with the Nburu tree,” he said, gesturing to the wide, squat tree they were passing. They’d seen many like it on their walk in, its branches heavy with large round nuts and purple blossoms. Thompson paused to pluck one of the nuts. “The Nburu tree is exclusive to the land of the Bambada, and the center of their life and civilization. They hold community meetings, baptisms, and marriages under its branches. Each Bambada home is christened by the planting of an Nburu tree of its own in its yard, one that will some day provide shade and protection for the h
ouse and nourishment for the family.”
“There’s a special drink prepared with the seed of the Nburu tree, these large nuts you see hanging from the branches. It’s a tea, made by boiling the nuts.” He held out the one in his hand.
“What you and Alex drank back in the clearing,” AJ confirmed.
“Exactly. No one knows how or why the tradition started, but it has without a doubt gone on for generations and generations, perhaps thousands of years, and it is, in fact, what gives the Bambada their incredible power.”
“So if everyone drinks this tea, why did it kill Alex?” Liz asked.
“The tea doesn’t affect everyone the same way. The extrasensory perception, infinite knowledge – these are great gifts, not suitable for everyone, as you can imagine. With them come enormous responsibility. Fortunately, tea prepared from the Nburu tree is ingeniously self-regulating.”
“You mean it knows who’s naughty and nice?” Liz asked.
“In a way, but on a more basic level. Think of it as an allergy. Only those who are selfless, with pure intentions, seeking knowledge only for knowledge’s sake, can tolerate the tea, and gain its gifts. But those like our friend Alex, who want to exploit the powers of the Bambada for their own selfish interests, and not the interests of society as a whole – liars, thieves, murderers, those whose hearts are filled with envy and greed…politicians and lawyers,” he said with a laugh, “cannot tolerate it. There’s some sort of connection that I can’t explain between the mind and body, between a person’s moral and physiological makeup. They suffer an allergic reaction like none other. The tea more or less liquefies their internal organs, and they drown in their own fluids.”
“So you’re saying that there’s no greed, lying, stealing, or murder among the Bambada?” AJ asked.
“That’s right. And as a result, we have no concerns, no worries about the future, no competitors, no burning questions to keep us up at night, no quarrels to sap our energy. It’s the way the Bambada society has developed. They’ve been drinking the tea for generations, and any selfishness, greed, or violence has simply been bred out of the culture. I’d imagine that anyone who showed such tendencies quickly perished, and the good survived, procreated, and passed on positive values to their offspring.”