“That’s a good question.” Bishop took out his phone. “The best answer I have is that we’re looking for this woman.” Bishop handed over his cellphone with a picture of Jennifer on the screen.
“Beautiful young woman. And you think that she’s there, with the Baduy?”
“Well, we’re not sure,” Bishop replied. “We hope that someone there might know more about her. What can you tell us about them?”
“It’s believed that for over one thousand years, they lived on the mountain without any change in their ways. It wasn’t until the beginning of the twentieth century that the Dutch occupier first tried to make contact. It was the Dutch who gave them their name, Baduy. From the Dutch word for Bedouin, Bedoeïen. It’s believed they call themselves Urang Kanekes, Urang the word for people, and Kanekes for the area where they live.”
“Like in Urang Utan,” Ignatowski remarked.
“Indeed,” Kadek confirmed. “People of the Utan. You’ve heard about the inner and outer Baduy?” Kadek asked.
“We heard about the difference, yes,” Ignatowski answered. “We were told that you were the person to talk to and who could take us there and help us talk to them.”
“Oh, I can take you there, and even talk to them for you. To the outer Baduy, that is. I can also show you to the edge of inner Baduy territory, but should you decide to go in, you’re on your own. That’s bad juju.”
“Bad juju?” Bishop asked.
“The Baduy religion is animistic, based on a system of taboos. They believe spirits inhabit the trees, the streams, rocks, and all other kinds of other inanimate objects. It’s thought that the spirits do good or evil, depending on how you stay away from the taboos. Their lives are governed by more than one thousand taboos, controlling every aspect of their lives and daily business.”
“What kind of taboos are we talking about?” Ignatowski asked.
“Things like what they can and cannot possess, how to grow crops, keep a herd and even how the layout of a rice field should look. Controlling and governing daily business is done by the priest-kings, the Pu’un, and if they don’t like what they see, they practice the Santet susuk konde.”
“Stanted, susksuk....” Ignatowski tried to repeat.
“Santet susuk konde, a mystic ritual, a, uh.... voodoo, and in its most extreme way they can perform a type of black magic called the Kesetanan, the calling of satanic powers. Believe me. You don’t want to go there and be judged by their taboos.” Kadek shook his head profoundly.
“That certainly applies to you,” Bishop said to Ignatowski, laughing.
“Make no mistake,” Kadek implored. “Many have tried, and only a few succeeded. Of those, most of them got very ill or worse.”
“I believe you,” Lindsey said. “And you say they never leave their territory or invite anyone in?”
“Never. They are not allowed to leave the village, let alone stay the night outside their territory, nor communicate with outsiders. They are completely self-sufficient. They make their own clothes and tools, and grow all their food by themselves. Everything is done by hand because electric machines are taboo, and they reject anything made outside of their territory, even by the outer Baduy. There’s even a strict limit to their population growth. The family that exceeds that limit is expelled from the territory, and sent outside. That’s how we know so much about them. You can get out, but you can never get back in.”
“Then how will we find them?” Bishop asked.
“The road to their territory is well known, but no one dares to travel it. First, we can see if your friend is recognized by members of the outer Baduy. Then, if you still want to, I can drop you off at the outskirts of the inner Baduy territory.”
“And how will we know we found them?” Bishop asked.
“Stay on the path or, rather, in the bushes next to the path, so you won’t be seen, and you’ll know when you’ve arrived. The Baduy have about fifty families, and they are all dressed in a white shirt, called a sangsang and a white headband, the telekun.”
“But first,” Kadek said, rising from the table. “Let me take you to your rooms. Tonight, we’ll have a good meal, and tomorrow we journey to the land of the Kanekes after a good night’s sleep.”
“How will we travel there?” Lindsey asked.
Bishop smiled. “You’re hoping it’s not the Beetle again.”
“You’re in luck.” Kadek sounded proud. “We’ve just acquired three brand-new dirt bikes. So, you all can ride a bike, I trust?”
“Um, yes.”
“Well, it’s been a while....”
“Sure....”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Kadek gave a broad smile. “Follow me.”
“And our driver?” Lindsey asked as they walked into the building.
“He’ll be fine. He is well taken care of. He’ll be here for you when you return.”
***
A white glow rose over the tea fields as the first rays of sunlight vaporized the morning dew. In front of the main building, the driver was tinkering with the Beetle’s engine when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. “You have three new messages,” the screen read.
NSF here. Where are you?
~~~
Please respond?
~~~
Got word that you’re driving east. Please inform.
He sighed before answering.
We’re at the....
~~~
From here, they’ll take a trip to the Baduy, mountain people.
~~~
Will let you know when we leave here.
He put his phone away as he heard a voice behind him.
“Morning.” Lindsey walked by, returning from an early morning stroll. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yes. Thank you, ma’am. It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
“It sure is.” She disappeared inside the building.
“Morning. Did you sleep well?” Bishop asked Lindsey.
“I did, and you two?”
Both Bishop and Ignatowski confirmed that they did as well.
“Juice?” Ignatowski asked.
“Please.” Lindsey sat down.
“So, tell us about that paper you wrote on evolution,” Ignatowski said to Bishop.
“You read it?” Bishop asked.
“I didn’t, but Lin did and told me about it. I understand you wanted to find scientific, mathematical proof that evolution actually happened.”
“I wrote about two things. First, I looked for mathematical proof. I wanted to prove that there was a mathematical probability explaining the mutation of a single protein polypeptide chain or an amino acid to create a genetic and biological foundation for the diversity of life we have today. Given that Earth is about four point five four billion years old, it would take over a quintillion of calculations.”
“And did you find proof?” Ignatowski asked.
“I guess Lindsey told you the answer already.” Bishop gave a tiny smile. “This was over ten years ago, you know, and we didn’t have the math or the computers that could do the calculations on any of the theories we had.”
“Amazing. So, Darwin is still the best option we have?” Ignatowski concluded.
“When you look at the Darwinian theory, it basically has two core ideas. One is the notion that all organisms are, by origin, related to each other by a diverging process, the tree of life. The other is the idea of natural selection, survival of the fittest. I now believe proving it will probably never be possible, even with the fastest computers. Personally, evolution is a philosophy at best. By definition, it offers an explanation for how things are the way they are without God, which comes in handy for a large group of people, I guess.”
“So, you don’t believe in God, Matthew?” Ignatowski asked.
Bishop gave him a bright smile but stayed silent.
“All right then,” Ignatowski said after a few seconds of silence. “So, what about your paper’s second subject?”
Bishop took a
deep breath. “We theorized about the possibility of speeding up evolution.”
Kadek stuck his head around the corner. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Bishop called out. “We’ll be right there.”
“I guess we’ll park that part of the conversation for another time,” Ignatowski concluded.
“So, did you already decide?” Lindsey asked.
“We did, but it’s up to you,” Bishop explained. “Iggy here surprised us at dinner last night, explaining he did some local motorcycle racing back in his day, and you already know my skills from college, so who do you want to hang on to?”
She creased her forehead. “I need a moment to think about it. Shall we go?”
“Let’s do this,” Ignatowski confirmed.
Lindsey quickly grabbed a piece of toast from the table and clenched it between her teeth. “Race you there.” She ran out of the building.
Both men looked at each other, slowly rising from their chairs and walking toward the door.
“Good morning, everyone.” Kadek welcomed the three as they walked onto the parking lot.
Next to Kadek were three brand-new, shiny motorcycles—in white, blue and orange.
“Nice rides,” Ignatowski said.
“Brand-new KTM Freeride E-XC,” Kadek explained. “Eighteen-kilowatt max power at five thousand RPM with a torque of forty-two Newton-meter. WP suspension, energy recuperation technology, multi-functional display, state-of-the-art controls and a newly enhanced power pack. And best of all, quiet and no emissions.”
“Electric dirt bikes,” Ignatowski uttered in pure admiration.
“Who said us plantationists didn’t care about the environment?” Kadek laughed. “Who gets the two-seater?”
Lindsey approached Bishop. “Are we going?”
Chapter 21 – The Observer Effect
Reserva Indígena Mashco-Piro, Peru, Three Months Ago
Life slowly and quietly returned to the old mission as the early morning sun hit the treetops. Yawning people left their tents and cabins, and stretched their bodies, listening to the early birds chirping away.
“Good morning,” Mulder called out.
The zipper on the orange tent opened, and Jennifer stuck her head out. “Oh, uh, good morning,” she said, squinting her eyes. “Am I late?”
“You’re not. Life here begins extremely early in the day.”
Jennifer exited her tent, carrying a towel and toiletry bag.
“How did you sleep your first night in the rainforest?”
“Sorry, Eldin,” Martin Stormberg called from one of the cabins, where he stepped out of the doorway. “Can I steal you for a moment?”
“Do you mind?” Eldin asked Jennifer.
“No problem. I’ll go freshen up in the meantime.”
“Okay.” Mulder gave her a thumb’s up. “Morning,” he said as he approached Stromberg.
“Morning. Do you have a moment?”
“Sure.”
“Inside, please.”
Mulder walked in, followed by Stromberg, who closed the door behind them.
“What’s with the secrecy?” Mulder asked, frowning.
“I need to show you something.” Stromberg switched on the computer screens. “This is drone footage from last night. I made a short compilation.” The screen was shades of green, the missionary and its surroundings clearly recognizable. “It’s in infrared and later thermal vision. Now you see, over here, this is us just after diner and before bed.” He pointed to the screen, where—in the green surroundings—white figures found their way around the tents.
“And what’s this?” Mulder pointed to a moving figure with a number over it. “Number twenty-six?”
“That’s what I wanted to show you.” With a click of the mouse, he paused the movement on the screen. “You know we have twenty-five tribe members under constant surveillance, but when I demonstrated the system to Ms. Porter yesterday, I scanned her profile and added her to the system as number twenty-six. Well, I forgot to remove her profile from the system. Normally I wouldn’t have noticed this, but the system flags all movement in a big circle around the cave, and there it was.”
“There was what? What are you talking about?”
“You better see for yourself.” He clicked the mouse again.
On the screen, the number twenty-six first moved into the rain forest on the way to the toilet. Back from the bathroom, they watched her first take the road back and then turn a few times and walk to the clearing near the caves.
“She lost her way?” Mulder asked.
“Apparently.”
“And who are they?” Mulder pointed to two white spots, barely moving on the other side of the clearing.
“Not sure, but if you look carefully....” Stromberg paused and kept a finger in front of the screen. “There, you see it?” He pointed to a faint light rising from one of them.
“They’re smoking?”
“Seems that way,” Stromberg confirmed.
“Don’t they know smoking is not allowed anywhere on the site?” Mulder sounded fierce.
“Well, at least they don’t do it inside. But I’m afraid that’s not what concerns me. Wait for it.”
After a few seconds, number twenty-six seemed to crouch and cautiously cross the clearing.
“What is she doing?” Mulder asked, sounding fearful. He slapped his hand against his mouth, as the number stopped next to the entrance. Then she stuck her head around the corner a few times. Don’t do it. Please don’t do it! Mulder’s thoughts raced through his mind, thinking twelve steps ahead of what would happen, and what he would do if she did.
Then it happened. The number took a turn into the cave and disappeared from the screen. “Oh, my God.” Mulder rubbed his face.
“There’s no reception from inside. Here, let me fast forward.” Stromberg clicked two arrows on the lower screen. The only thing that changed on the image was the counter on the top right and an occasional animal that moved over the screen at an extremely fast pace. Then number twenty-six reappeared, and Stromberg clicked again. “Ten minutes have passed.” He pointed to the top of the screen.
“She was inside for a whole ten minutes?” Mulder asked rhetorically. “Did anyone see her or notice anything peculiar?”
“Nothing. I already asked security, and every staff member on duty last night. Nobody saw or heard anything. I saw you two talking together. Did she say anything, or look any different?
“Not that I noticed,” Mulder said, “but we can’t take any chances, so you know what to do.” Mulder looked at his watch. “We’ll have breakfast in a few minutes, and after that, I’ll take her on a tour. You have two hours.”
“Two hours? That’s impossible.”
“And yet, that’s all you get. I suggest you skip breakfast and get to work.”
Stromberg inhaled to say something but quickly changed his mind. Over the years, he got to know Mulder well enough to know when to debate or disagree and when not to. So, instead, he picked up his radio as Mulder left the room.
***
“Good morning again,” Mulder called out cheerfully as he joined Jennifer at the breakfast table.
“And a good morning to you again,” she replied.
“So, how did you sleep your first night in the rainforest?”
Jenifer thought for a short moment. “I think I slept like a baby.”
“You think?” Mulder asked, smiling.
“Well, you probably know how it is. The first night in a strange bed is never the best for a good night’s sleep, but I must admit I don’t remember sleeping, so it must have been fine.”
“So, you’re well-rested now? I mean, well-rested enough for me to take you on the grand tour after breakfast?”
“Uh, sure. I’d love to see everything. I also would like to call my mom and let her know that everything is okay, but since there is no cell reception, I’d like to use one of your sat-phones.”
“Not a problem.” Mulder paused for a
short moment. “It’s just that we seem to experience satellite problems at the time. Probably solar flares. Let me check that for you and get back to you later.”
“All right. My mom tends to worry quickly.”
“Isn’t that what moms are for? Please have some breakfast.” Mulder waved an arm over the table. “We have the usual bread, eggs—scrambled and boiled—but I can especially recommend the sangrecita, a local specialty. It’s a little like black pudding, with garlic and chili-spiced chicken blood. Very tasty. We also have picarones, a super sweet dish, heavenly skinny, donut-shaped and deep-fried sweet potato pieces. And, of course, there’s papaya juice and coffee. Please, dig in.”
“Don’t mind if I do. It all looks delicious.”
“Good, and after breakfast, I will take you on that tour I promised you.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” She poured herself a glass of papaya juice.
***
An hour had passed when Jennifer walked to the path where Mulder was waiting for her.
“Are you ready?” Mulder asked, tipping his camouflage cap while carrying a large cane in the other hand. “You never know when it might come in handy.”
“I think breakfast found a good place inside,” Jennifer replied, tapping her belly. “So, let’s go.”
“So, tell me”—Mulder walked into the rainforest—“how about that, uh, VNO, Jacobson’s organ of yours? Any development?”
“Doesn’t Dr. Ahlström keep you informed?”
“Only on the highlights for now. She told me you show a slightly elevated sensitivity for social chemo signals.”
“Pheromones.”
“Yes, pheromones,” Mulder confirmed.
“I understand from Dr. Ahlström that the presence of pheromones in humans has never been proven—”
“Watch out,” Mulder suddenly called out, pointing his stick to the side of the path where Jennifer walked. A black, orange-spotted snake slithered toward the path.
Jennifer took a quick step back. “Dangerous?” she asked.
With his cane, Mulder cautiously pushed the snake away from the path. “I have no idea. A friend of mine once tried to teach me the difference between venomous and non-venomous snakes, but it didn’t stick. So let’s not take the risk. You were saying?” he asked, as they followed the path again that went slightly uphill now.
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