Primordia_In Search of the Lost World

by Greig Beck

  His final throw of the dice was a technological one; years ago, he had engaged a software company to lay sophisticated bear traps on the Internet and also the dark web. They used trigger words, and a combination of each would spring the trap: Benjamin Cartwright – expedition notebook – 1908 – Amazon Jungle, and – dinosaur.

  Nothing had come of it; nothing ever got triggered.

  Until now.

  Every online trap they had burst into life as multiple word combinations were being searched for: Benjamin Cartwright, expedition notebook, 1908, Amazon Jungle. It was obvious that someone was looking for a missing manuscript related to the mission to the Venezuelan Amazon in 1908. His damned mission.

  Barlow had felt the hair rise on the back of his neck when he had read the report. The technical document also traced the search back to its source. He sat back for a moment, clasping clubby fingers across his belly.

  Why now? Why did someone suddenly begin to look? he wondered, but immediately had an answer: Because more clues had come to light, or whatever cyclical event needed to occur was about to reoccur.

  Barlow sprang forward, beginning to type on his computer. Whoever this person or people were, they were in the lead. But he had an advantage – he knew about them, but they didn’t know about him.

  If they had something that could lead them to the manuscript, he wanted it. And he would have it at any and all costs. He had searched for years, his life, and if anyone were going to find that hidden world, it’d be him.

  He paused, thinking. He needed to assemble a team and include people who were prepared to break the law if necessary.

  He began to type again; he knew just the man. Someone he had worked with before, someone who was as ruthlessly efficient as they were unscrupulous.

  Barlow smiled. As Sir Arthur Conan Doyle once wrote: the game’s afoot.

  CHAPTER 05

  Ben took a taxicab to meet the gang rather than letting Emma pick him up again; he wanted to think on the way. After getting back home last night, he had spent a little more time rummaging through much of the attic looking for more clues, and maybe the missing notebook. Perhaps rendering this adventure over before it started.

  He yawned and rubbed tired eyes; he ended up with only a few hours sleep and no evidence that the notebook belonging to his great, great grandfather was ever found. Wherever Doyle put it, that’s probably where it stayed.

  Ben smiled as he remembered Emma’s enthusiasm. Her eyes had lit up just like the kid he remembered from all those years ago.

  It was weird how close they had all been, and now being back, if he squinted real hard, he could see them all as they were then.

  Twenty-five years ago, he, Dan, Steve, Emma, and Andrea had their own pushbike gang, hanging out at the local park and racing each other on the jogging track. They were normal kids with freckles, braces, and knobby knees. And little Emma Wilson, with her huge front teeth and just the hint of tiny breasts beginning to poke at the front of her loose T-shirt.

  He remembered her stacking her bike and grazing a knee. His mom always made him keep some band-aids in his pocket, which he thought dumb at the time, but it meant he could pull one out and slap it on her wound. She pressed on it and then looked up at him. Those large green eyes crinkled at the corners and stared, and he felt his kid heart bump up a notch. No one had even looked at him like that. Well, no other girl anyway.

  Then came the hanging out at the mall as young teenagers, and then high school and following that, they all ended up at Ohio State, where he and Steve were picked to try out for the Buckeyes football team; a big honor. Andrea even got to be a cheerleader.

  It was an away game and afterwards, he and Steve were to meet Dan and Emma in the car park. But before Ben even got there, he saw the four, big raw-boned young men around Emma and Dan. Perhaps they were Wolverine supporters and had taken exception to the grey and scarlet that his friends wore. Regardless, Dan faced them down, the small Japanese man barely coming up to their shoulders. But he was all heart and refused to step back or take whatever shit they were dishing out.

  Dan got punched then. Emma screamed and lunged and was immediately grabbed by the upper arm, jerked hard and thrown to the ground. Ben saw red and dropped his bag and sprinted at them.

  Ben’s father had taught him to box when he was young, and he shoved one guy out of the way and then spun the leader around to face him. The guy went to double-hand push Ben in the chest.

  Ben’s father also told him that in a street fight to always make the first one count – he did. While the guy lunged forward, Ben used his momentum to throw a straight right into his face, a bulls-eye to the nose.

  Blood and snot sprayed, and the cartilage flattened. The guy went down, and Ben spun to the next. He hoped they wanted more; he wanted to punish them all. Steve was now at his shoulder and a few seconds of glaring resulted in the three guys yelling a few fuck yous, and then picking up their buddy and limping away.

  Steve went to help Dan, Ben crouched down beside Emma, and she held out a hand. He gave her a crooked smile.

  “I’ve got another band-aid if you need it.”

  She beamed back at him. “My white knight rides in to save the day again.” Emma squeezed his hand, and he fell into those beautiful eyes.

  “Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He smiled sappily and hauled her up.

  “I need you now.” She still held his hand.

  They went steady after that, loving, laughing, and making plans for some perfect future they’d make together.

  But life’s roads have bends and turns, and after a while, their worlds tilted and they slid in different directions. And before he knew it, she was gone and then someone else’s girl. And he was left wondering what to do with himself. Maybe that’s why, and when, he decided to leave town.

  But now being back made him realize how much he’d missed them all. And maybe how much he needed them all.

  The fact was, his mom was more settled now, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t more than a little intrigued by the whole idea of the adventure. Besides, if Dan wanted to pay, then the only thing he stood to lose was a few days time. And for that, he got to hang out with his old friends, Emma, and probably do it all first class – no downside.

  “Here you go, buddy.” The driver pulled up at the rib joint. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

  “Will do.” Ben paid and stepped out.

  In the harsh light of day, it looked shabbier than when it had its neon makeup in place. He grinned; it was the first rib joint he knew that reinvented itself as a diner throughout the day. Good – he didn’t actually feel like ribs for breakfast.

  He saw through the window that the gang was there and he was the last to arrive. Emma spotted him first through the window, and he suddenly hoped she had been looking out for him. On entering, she bumped her hip up against Dan, forcing him to move along in the booth. Steve Chambers lifted his chin in acknowledgement and Andrea’s eyes were on him all the way to the table.

  Ben snatched up a menu as he sat down. “What did I miss?”

  “The eggs, over easy. Plus bacon good enough to make an angel weep,” Steve said.

  “Sounds good.” Ben dropped the menu.

  “Erk, grease.” Andrea stuck her tongue out.

  “A-aaand that’s where the flavor is.” Steve saluted her with his coffee.

  “Sad but true.” Ben looked up as the waitress appeared like magic, wrote down his order that included a toasted bagel, and also poured him a coffee. He waited until she was gone, then leaned forward to interlock his fingers on the table.

  “I spent a bit of time hunting through more of the attic but didn’t find anything any more illuminating. That’s the bad news, so I guess the good news is, that I found nothing that indicated the notebook was ever returned, or ever found. Wherever Doyle hid it, then that’s where it could still be today.”

  “Ditto,” Dan added. “I had my tech teams send out searches far and wide looking
for anything that might indicate the Cartwright expedition notebook of 1908 ever came to light – we got nada, zero, zilch.” Dan’s brows waggled. “And that’s good; means we are still good to go.”

  “We’ll need anti-malarial shots,” Steve said

  Dan nodded. “Good thinking.”

  “Wait, what? I thought you guys meant that we were just going to find the notebook.” Ben frowned.

  “We sure are…to begin with.” Dan reached forward to grip his forearm, his dark almond eyes intense. “Let me ask you a question: if you went to the hardware store to buy a shovel, are you doing it because you want a shovel, or are you doing it because you want a hole?”

  Ben nodded slowly. “A hole, obviously.”

  “Exactly,” Dan went on. “So the objective of finding the notebook is not just to find the notebook, though interesting and valuable, but to find out the secrets contained within it.”

  “Yeah, I see that. But this is leaping a few paces, or rather miles, from what I was thinking,” Ben replied. “We should take it one step at a time.”

  “And we will.” Dan looked earnest. “But come on, man, you gotta admit, this is the most intriguing thing, like ever. Imagine if that hidden place in the jungle actually exists.”

  “And every speck of logic says it probably doesn’t,” Emma said with a smile in her eyes. “But then again, just imagine for a tiny second that it does…and you were given a way to find it.” Her eyes gleamed. “And I think your ancestor, Benjamin, would want his namesake heir to be the one to do it.”

  Dan opened his arms, sharing his best entrepreneurial smile. “Look around you, buddy. Each of us has an abundance of a few very important things – enthusiasm, youth, curiosity, and time.” He grinned. “What say we use it – strike while the iron’s hot?” He shrugged. “All on my ticket, for all of us, and gold class all the way.”

  “Whoa; hey, what do you get out of it?” Steve asked, one eyebrow up.

  Dan snorted. “Listen; I sold my tech company five years ago for $180 million bucks. Since then, I’ve been bored, bored, bored. I’ve spent my time parasailing, rock-climbing, deep sea diving and jungle trekking, and I always come back feeling unfulfilled. But this… this, is a real adventure. Something with intrigue, danger, hidden clues, and a purpose; I gotta tell you, I feel alive again.” Dan raised his hands and looked skyward, evangelically for a moment before lowering them flat to the tabletop.

  “Me too,” Emma added her hand on top of his.

  “Me three.” Steve laid his on the pile.

  Andrea raised her hand, smiled, and then slowly laid it on top of Steve’s.

  Ben saw the fire in his friends’ eyes. And truth be known, he felt exactly the same. The thought of retracing an ancestor’s steps, and perhaps finding something unique and wondrous, was compelling to the point of being irresistible.

  Andrea then placed one thin arm on the table and then rested her chin on the palm. “So, why don’t we just go and knock on the door of this place in England, and get their permission to start looking? After all, you said you have proof it belongs to you.”

  Emma shrugged. “She’s got a point, Ben. You’ve got a lawyer’s letter telling you it’s your property. Let’s just knock on the door of Arthur Conan Doyle’s estate.”

  Dan held up a finger and waggled it. “Umm, yeah, about that; we did some investigation on the Doyle estate; in a nutshell, it doesn’t exist anymore. His final home, this Windlesham Manor, is a freaking retirement home now.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Steve started to chuckle. “With all that gray hair, there’ll be no resistance to a little onsite digging.”

  Dan sighed. “If only it were that easy. Windlesham Manor sits on 20 acres; more than 870,000 square feet. That’s a lot of places to hide something under the earth.”

  “Good God, that’ll be impossible.” Emma’s mouth hung open.

  Dan nodded, his lips compressed. “We either need more clues to pinpoint it, or we need to have the Manor’s approval to go looking around – and that might take some time.”

  Steve bobbed his head. “I’ve got a friend over there, a zoologist, who could get us in. But like you said, the bottom line is we need more clues to narrow our search.”

  Ben ran a hand up through his hair. “Yeah, I can have another look through the Cartwright history, but I’m just not sure there’s anything else significant to find.”

  “Well, let’s think this through logically.” Dan interlaced his fingers on the table. “You told us that Doyle valued it so greatly he didn’t want it lost. That’s why he kept it rather than simply sending it back to your ancestor’s estate if there was a chance there was no one to either receive it or appreciate its importance. Right?”

  “I guess so,” Ben replied.

  “So, if he valued it so greatly, he would have wanted it safe, and close. My gut feeling is it’ll be in the manor or real close by on the grounds. I don’t think our search area will be all that big.”

  “That sounds a little more promising.” Emma beamed.

  “Kinda makes sense,” Ben added.

  “Well, doesn’t matter anyway.” Dan grinned sheepishly. “I’ve already booked our flights.”

  “Jesus.” Ben straightened. “For when? I still haven’t told my mom.”

  Steve chuckled. “What, are you still 12?”

  “Two days time, Friday morning.” Dan held his arms out. “Now or never, buddy.” He turned and pointed. “Steve, you contact your friend in England and let them know we’re coming. See if he –”

  “She,” Steve added.

  “Of course.” Dan gave him a wry smile. “See if she can get us an invite into the Manor. The rest of you, pack, get your shots, and grab your passports.”

  Emma snorted. “I suddenly feel like Dorothy being lifted up by the tornado and swept away.”

  Ben laughed. “Well, we’ve got a few days, and I think Mom is going to need another cake when I tell her.”

  Emma grinned back. “Sure, but she’ll be fine when she knows I’ll be looking after you.”

  CHAPTER 06

  Heathrow Airport, London, United Kingdom

  Out front, Ben inhaled, taking in the mixed odors of car and airplane exhaust, cold mist and an ever-present dampness. He looked up at the leaden sky.

  “There is a sun up there, right?”

  “No wonder they’re all so pale.” Steve put both hands on the small of his back and straightened it, causing a popping and cracking sound that made Andrea wince.

  “Ouch,” she said.

  “Yeah, I know, right? Fourteen hours on a plane is murder,” he said to her and then turned to Dan. “And all crammed into business class. Why no first class, you tightwad.”

  “Oh really?” Dan’s brows went up. “You ever been in first class before?”

  “Let me think.” Steve grabbed his chin for a moment. “Um, nope.”

  “It’s overrated. Besides, Chambers, I’ve never seen anyone eat so many little pastries and mooch at the stewardesses so much.”

  “Just getting my money’s worth. Oh wait, I mean, your money’s worth. Thank you, Uncle Daniel.” Steve saluted.

  “I’m cold.” Andrea pulled her thin coat tighter.

  Ben saw that she had dressed for fashion rather than practicality; even though Dan had warned her it’d be cooler, a silk scarf just wasn’t going to cut it.

  Dan began to rummage. “I might have a spare pullover you can…”

  “I’ve got one here.” Emma pulled a top from her bag and tossed it to the woman. She hoisted her carryall to her shoulder and groaned. “Hey Steve, this friend of yours was meeting us here and now, right?”

  “Yep, Jennifer Brock, zoologist who works at the London Zoo.” Steve turned about looking up and down the street.

  “The zoo, huh?” Ben grinned. “No wonder she likes you.”

  Steve turned back momentarily. “She said I’m a fine specimen.” He pointed. “There.”

  Ben tur
ned – a slim, athletic-looking woman with a dark bob haircut waved back. She wore a khaki shirt with a monogram on one of the pockets. She marched straight up to Steve, hugged him hard, kissed his cheek, and then pulled back to stare up into his grinning face.

  “All this way just to see me?”

  “Of course, Jenn.” Steve turned side-on. “My friends.” He counted each off. “Ben, Emma, Andrea, and Dan our mobile bank account.”

  “Thank you, Steve.” Dan held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Jennifer.”

  “And you.” Jenny took his hand first. “And you, and you…” She then shook all of their hands. “Please call me Jenny, and come on, we can formally introduce ourselves in the van.” She turned on her heel. “Let’s get to the car-park before it sends me broke.”

  *****

  Jenny had loaded them all into a Ford Transit Kombi van with the same London Zoo logo stenciled on the side as she had on her breast pocket. There were six seats, three in the front cab, three in rear, with plenty of storage for their bags.

  Ben immediately smelled hay, with a hint of damp fur, and suspected people weren’t the only things that had been transported in Jenny’s van.

  Steve slid in next to the zoologist, and Emma jammed in on the opposite window seat. In the back, Ben slid across to one window, Andrea quickly jumped in next to him, and Dan took the last seat.

  As they sped out of Heathrow, Ben hung an arm out the window, watching with a mix of alarm and amusement – New York rush hour had nothing on some of the turnpikes out of the airport ring.

  The real difference was that where American drivers would jam a hand down hard on their horns, or lean out of their windows to give you a piece of their mind, English drivers tended to glare or quietly fume in their vehicles.

  Jenny half turned. “Tomorrow, I’ve arranged an interview for you at Windlesham Manor. As a background story, I told them you were planning on placing your dear old mother there. I can take you, but it should be only two of you – you guys choose which ones.”