by Al Cooper
In any case there was no doubt that Harold's disease had been beneficial to Freak's interests at all levels. On receiving the accolade of Harold, his race for the White House had shot, and once people was informed about the serious illness of their president had decided to back to his successor, so that the advantage over the Republican candidate was higher than ten points when there were just a little over a month for the November elections.
Carol left her room and found in the hallway with the illustrious Dr. O'Connor. Very reluctantly and as directed by Harold, she had been forced to continue counting on his presence. Wherever they went O'Connor was more than his doctor, their shadow, a shadow following them everywhere, including their own ranch. The doctor had just closed Harold's bedroom door. He had a sorry aspect. He recommended her not to come in, the patient had suffered a serious deterioration. It was advisable to take him to hospital urgently. The outcome could be a matter of hours or days. Carol collapsed like a house of cards, basically she always had thought that if a miracle had to occur, it would have taken place there.
XXX
When Kelly opened her eyes, she felt dizzy, her head ached and had completely lost track of what had happened. Her vision was blurred and there was little light so wasn't easy to scrutinize her environment. Lying on a bed of straw and covered with a light textured skin as a savanna, she perceived a figure at her side, which gradually took shape human. She jumped when that shape passed a sort of wet gauze on her front because then surfaced in her mind the memories of her recent past, when she was surrounded by Indians who slowly were closing their siege around her. However, she noticed that it was not a man but an indigenous woman who was at least as frightened as Kelly when she could observe like Kelly opened her eyes, so her initial reaction was of panic to the point that she went out lavishing voices whose meaning was not needed to understand. Then Kelly heard the voice of a man, distant, who conversed in low tones with the woman, perhaps with the good intention to reassure her.
After a few seconds she saw as another human figure entered the hut. As he approached her bed, she could get only some details, because she still had trouble to see well. It was a mature man, white, tall, slim and with a long beard that covered much of his face. When reached next her, put his hand on Kelly's forehead, as to make sure she had no fever.
-Who are you? - Barely stammered Kelly, who surprised herself from her slurred speech -
- Quiet, you're in good hands and should rest - whispered that voice that she perceived as warm and welcoming -
Kelly made a superhuman effort and tried to sit. Then came to her mind images of their peers and their thoughts flew beside them.
- Hanson? Marvin? Souza? ... What ... what happened to them? ... - She asked him showing her concern.
The man took her gently, letting that Kelly's head rested on his arm and reclined her slowly until she was lying down again –
- Your friends? ... Do not worry, they are well.
- Where ... am I? Who are you? ...
- Too many questions for your state, I'll try to answer them tomorrow. - Responded with polite but firm tone -
The man motioned to the indigenous woman who left the hut and returned a little later with a bowl of water that offered Kelly, who accepted it willingly to notice that her mouth and throat were dry. The woman helped her to sit up slightly, just enough to drink and to realize her host woman was visibly pregnant. The man followed the scene from a distance, then headed out of the hut.
- Please do not go! Wait a minute - Kelly claimed him, slightly recuperated -
The man turned around, walking slowly toward her, stared at her and when got back to her side, smiled broadly.
- I knew you were an eminence Doctor - he paused. That voice was familiar to Kelly, but the image of that individual didn't agree with any of the stored in her memory. Seeing the reaction of Kelly, waited a few seconds and then continued - But I could not imagine that you were more beautiful than ever.
- Do you know me?
- I don't think that there is anyone within the scientific community that is not aware about your progress, Miss Adams.
- More strange is that those stories have come down here at the end of the world - Kelly replied, smiling - He chose to sit beside her, then said.
- I am more informed of the latest scientific advances that many of your colleagues, I assure you.
In analyzing the content of those words, and cross it with his tone of voice, a chill ran through Kelly, that was increasing to see that, beneath that bushy beard, still could be seen traits that were familiar for her.
- Please don't leave me with this doubt! The truth is that your voice and face are familiar to me. Tell me, who are you? ...
- I am glad that almost six years in this paradise and my beard does not lead to not recognize me.
It was then when the chill turned into a cold sweat to find that her hunches were beginning to be realized. He sat up slightly, just enough to look him face to face.
- My God - threw her hands to her head - No, can not be ... Are really you? ... Tell me, are you ... professor ... Clerigan?
- Yes, Kelly, for some time that we met for last time, right?
- I knew you weren't dead, I knew it!
- Welcome to my little kingdom in this world.
- Tell me ... what are you doing here? Why all this mystery? ...
- Too many questions, don't you think so? Tomorrow some of them will be answered. Meanwhile, rest. - He replied as he stood up -
As Clerigan went out the door of the hut, Kelly fell on the bed of straw. She had to admit that she had always hoped to find him, long before the expedition got under way or she had had opportunity to read the report of Hanson and Marvin. But now everything seemed unreal, dreamlike, just as coming from her imagination. Before being overcome by sleep, she tweaked herself to make sure her destiny, aided by her stubbornness, had taken her to that place unknown and lost in the middle of nowhere.
XXXI
Marvin raised his hands to his head, his head hurt so much it looked like it was going to explode, and everything was spinning. As he tried to get up he was forced to withdraw because his legs refused to follow his wishes. He began to do a damage assessment and agreed that there wasn’t a part of his body that didn't hurt, except, perhaps, ears and hair. To make matters worse had heartburn that reminded him of the last indigestion that had suffered in many years, when he had exceeded for the baptism of Billy, but the truth was he had not eaten nothing at all for a long time. He checked his watch, it was how little of what still could trust. It marked the thirteen hours and thirty minutes, which meant it had spent nearly twenty-four hours from the attack. Twenty-four hours after which he was still alive. Under such circumstances, he fell satisfied.
Finally, with some difficulty, managed to stand up and headed Souza, who lay sprawled to only a few feet from him. He knew that he was alive, because from the first moment that he had opened his eyes could see how Souza turned on himself and babbled nonsense words. He found a bowl of water beside and tried to refresh him. After a while, he could see as Souza opened his eyes throwing him a smile of satisfaction, which Marvin interpreted as a sign that he was well enough under the circumstances.
Marvin helped Souza to join him and, as if they were two old colleagues of raids that had exceeded with drinking, both were walking very slowly arm in arm, supporting each other, to the door of the hut. Just outside were intercepted by several warriors, armed with spears, preventing the passage of an intimidating manner. They heard a voice behind theirs, turned around and saw a white man, armed with a rifle, which sought to make understand natives something in their language. The warriors ended their attitude and lowered their lances under the watchful eye of Marvin and Souza, then that individual addressed them in perfect English.
- Mr. Clerigan wants to convey you his apologies and he would
appreciate you don't depart from the limits of the town - he warned them with a menacing aspect, then he smiled in a sarcastic way and said sententiously - It's for your own safety.
- Clerigan? Stephen Clerigan? ... - Marvin asked, surprised -
- Of course it's the only Clerigan around here - cunningly replied the mercenary-
- What the hell had those darts? - Souza asked while once again raised his hands to his head.
- It is a numbing and hallucinogen, native of course. It leaves unconscious for some time. It still could take several hours for you recover.
- Where is Miss Kelly? Hanson? Our guides? ...
- All in good time, gentlemen.
The mercenary beckoned to the warriors telling them to follow him. Marvin and Souza decided to get the opposite way and take a walk through the village, whose huts were arranged in an closed oval. They took a look at the activities of natives, in many ways not different from what they expected to find. Some came with fishes of considerable size at the waist. To satisfy the curiosity of Marvin, Souza said they used to employ some type of narcotic extracted from plants to sedate fishes and then captured them. Two men were skinning a mammal of considerable proportions, it seemed like a tapir. Much of the Indians were making blowguns, fixing their bows and sharpening their arrows. They saw four women, two of them visibly pregnant putting together baskets.
- This town was not among your pins - Marvin told -
- No, of course. It seems to be integrated into a kind of colony, with white men - he pointed to another mercenary who was to a few feet, without losing detail of their movements and armed with a rifle, then continued - We have many things to know, first if Clerigan is leading this, the number of white settlers there are, and what the hell they are doing.
- Well, at least we are alive. They could have killed us.
- I would not be so quiet. They had no objection killing to Ukekeni.
- We don't know where there are our peers, but more than likely they're in the same situation. What interest could have to kill Ukekeni precisely?
- I've been thinking about it since I regained consciousness. I don't think it was coincidence. Ukekeni was the only one who could identify the whites that captured him. Someone recognized him.
Marvin pointed to another part of town, guarded by another thug, then he did a comment.
- This is looking more and more like a prison.
They crossed paths with two indigenous pregnant who carried two baskets of fruit. Marvin looked at them by sheer curiosity. A little later they observed as another Indian, also visibly pregnant, left her hut. This time it was Souza who could not resist to make an observation.
- Have you noticed? ... Not appear to have fertility problems.
- Of course. Another thing that strikes me is that the village seems pretty big, right? At least if compared to the previous one.
- Absolutely. But the most striking is that they aren't from the same ethnicity as our guides, or any that I know. From what I could hear they speak a strange dialect of the Tupi-Guarani.
- So you also speak it? I should congratulate you!
- I speak a bit the Tupi-Guarani, but I barely understand this dialect. - Souza replied with resigned face -
- Their huts are also different from the other village, and not just because their disposal.
- Of course. They are much more primitive in their construction, and much smaller.
- I wonder if Kelly and Hanson could be in any of them.
Souza pointed with the index finger to a white that stood at the entrance of a hut, trying to understand by sign language with a native. Approaching it they could recognize to Hanson. Marvin ran to him and melted in an embrace, to which was added Souza.
- I think Kelly was there. - Safely said Hanson -
- What leads you to think so? - Marvin asked -
- I saw the guard playing with this - Hanson responded by opening his right hand and teaching them a hair pin -
- And if not indiscreet, how have you got it? - Souza asked with curiosity -
- Simple, I was finishing the exchange with the sentry when you arrived. Bartering is as old as the world - Hanson replied with a knowing smile - fix discretely your attention on his wrist.- He made a gesture with his head pointing to the Indian who was next. Marvin and Souza could not avoid to burst out laughing as they noticed that the native was wearing a wristwatch -
- I think you have lost out in the change! - Marvin said with a laugh -
- Perhaps Mr. Hanson is something fetishistic, especially coming from his lady - Sticking with fine irony Souza, while he put his hand on his shoulder asking him to accompany them -
- Well, we're in the lion's den - Souza said -
- Yeah, now we only need to examine their teeth! - Hanson joked -
Marvin pointed to one of the white sentries.
- By the moment the rules are well defined, as well as the limits of the village - said -
Hanson made a gesture with his head, pointing a particular point in the background. Then he did an observation.
- I think there is something you may have gone unnoticed. Fix your attention at the bottom, just left of the sentry, behind the trees.
Marvin and Souza set their sights on the site that Hanson had told them. There was too much distance and vegetation prevented them from appreciating in detail, but it seemed that a few hundred meters to the back of town, maybe a mile, stood a kind of stone building from which could be seen only a small part ,enough to Souza drew his own conclusions.
- It seems that is as ... - he paused, turned to look it carefully, trying to ensure the veracity of his claim - a kind of ... barricade, but made of stone. A wall which probably surrounds the nerve center of the colony, where Clerigan and his mercenaries have established his official residence.
- As with the feudal castles, it seems nobles live there, and at their feet, the town, the Indians. Two pins in one, dear Souza – Hanson said -
- It's really a single one, a white one supported by a red one - Souza said - it is unusual. I bet by a communion of interests that we must find out.
They agreed that within the stockade they could find many answers to the questions raised. It also would be very likely that Kelly was retained there. But all three were aware of the difficulty of accessing inside, if the village was guarded by at least three white men, it was not unreasonable to think that access to the interior of the stockade would be even more complicated. Unless someone take them there, it would be very difficult to access on their own feet. However, they all agreed that their situation was far from being mere guests there, and that their lives were in danger. Without difficulties or not, they couldn't afford to sit idly by waiting for their chance, because they ran the risk that it never came. Their only option was to develop a plan to escape from custody to which they were subjected and access the interior of the colony. The night could be their only ally.
XXXII
Kelly had passed from surprise to astonishment, and thence to disbelief. She still didn't know the real reasons which had led to Clerigan into exile at that location, but in any case she was more concerned with his attitude. If he had nothing to hide, why had they been attacked? ... She also thought, giving to Clerigan a vote of confidence, that perhaps they were mistaken for intruders or pirates of the jungle in search of some booty, because it could not be possible that Clerigan had changed so much in so little time.
Moreover, his former professor had pampered and treated her politely, in line with the person who had always known. Yet she still didn't know anything about Hanson and her peers so she was very concerned about their fate. As much as Clerigan had engaged in ensuring to her that they were being properly cared for, and that didn't doubt about his word, she wasn't able to understand why Clerigan kept her away from the group. She was pretty sure th
at they weren't on that three-story mansion to which she had been moved, although she hadn't had opportunity to explore it in depth, because the upstairs was a mystery. Her curiosity had led her up the stairs to find only one access door closed. When after her failed attempt she came back to her room, could see as the housekeeper, stationed on the ground floor, was glancing her in a searchingly way.
She glanced around. She could not complain. Her room was very comfortable, inviting, with a perfect mix of wood and stone, not missing any details, including the lintel above her bed and cupboards handmade, decorated with the same colonial style that was present in every corner of that house. It had much merit to build it in a place where winning the pulse to the jungle was so complicated, where men can’t use the same resources as in the so-called civilization. So she thought that they should have needed much time and a lot of human resources for such purpose.
It seemed to her ironic that a scientist abreast the latest advances in technology had decided to retire to live in a mansion in the jungle, equipped with only nineteenth-century comfort, because even in that house seemed the time had stood still for many years. Abounding water in the form of rivers and springs, he was struck they didn't have a system of supply and pumping to ensure they had running water. Instead, she had observed from her window, from which she could see the front door and a lush tropical garden, various indigenous carrying wooden drums. Surely that system was more than enough for their needs, but with a little effort had been spared much suffering. They had electrical power generated by a generator, but the production of energy in a place like that was expensive, so they only must to use it for essentials. So both her room and the house were full of candles, which gave it more charm.