Primordia_In Search of the Lost World Page 13

  Ben looked over his shoulder into the jungle, wary now. When he turned back, he saw Jenny wandering about and raised an arm to call her over. He looked back down at the tracks; the Pemon had said that in the past some foolish natives had come here, but they never come back. He lifted his fingers to his nose and rubbed them together, but there was no scent on them.

  “What have you got?” Jenny asked and crouched beside him.

  “Tracks, I think.”

  She smiled down at the markings in the dirt. “Big fella.” She turned to him. “Probably Eunectes murinus – green anaconda.”

  “Jesus, these tracks are from a snake?” Ben blew air through his lips.

  “Yeah, they can grow to 18 feet and weigh in at 250 pounds.” She looked around, and then into the tree canopy overhead. “And they lo-ooove water.”

  “Dangerous?” Ben got to his feet.

  Jenny followed him up. “Not to us, here and now. But if you were weak or sick, and they came across you when you were sleeping, they might try and swallow you…after pulverizing you down to mush.”

  “Nice; so not a total paradise here after all.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

  “Don’t you read your Bible? There’s a snake in every Garden of Eden, remember?” She winked.

  Ben chuckled. “Let’s hope there’s only one then. Let’s go.”

  By the time they returned, everyone was gathered around the morning fire. Coffee was being brewed, so he used his knife to clean the fish and thread them onto poles. He handed one to each.

  “No silver service, I’m afraid.”

  The cooked meat was delicious, if not a little blackened on the outside. They still had some rations left, but this was the first live game they’d caught and eaten. From now on, Ben would try and have them live off the land and preserve what they had left.

  In another 30 minutes, they were on their way again following the stream, the bank being a natural pathway. For hours, they watched the stream first shallow, with some grasses threading their way to the surface, and then islands of sand rising in its center. In only a little more time, the stream bottom broke the surface and turned from sand to mud, and then to sludge.

  There were no more fish, no more darting rainbow birds, or even iridescent winged dragonflies. The abundant life forms now only seemed to be swarming gnats. Underfoot, the sandy ground had also changed – the bank had vanished and their feet squelched in mud and slid on oily mosses. The air began to steam up with the smell of methane and corruption.

  It seemed paradise had come to an end, Ben thought. But it was when the mud became bog that Ben began to worry.

  Gas bubbles popped to the surface with an eggy-sulphurous smell, and the humidity made the perspiration run from them in dripping streams that never dried. Added to that, the mud got deeper, and the snake gaiters became traps for pounds of sticky mud that made every step an energy-draining experience.

  Dan stumbled and reached out a hand to some vines but immediately yelled his agony. “Jesus.” He went to pull his hand back, but the vine came with him. “Fucking thorns.”

  He pulled out his knife and hacked away at it, then had to carefully pick the woody stem from his gloves. Jenny squelched her way towards him and took it from him. She held it up.

  “Cat’s claw vine.” She turned to him. “Pierce your gloves?”

  Dan grimaced and had his glove peeled down. “Bastards went straight through.”

  “Yeah.” She held it out, showing him the half-inch hooks at the base of each leaf stem. “Evolved to stop them from being eaten. But they’re big and sharp enough to pierce boot leather.”

  “Okay, spray it, slap a bandage on it, and let’s keep moving.” Ben waved them on.

  Dan held up his bleeding hand. “Little sympathy here.”

  Jenny quickly leaned in and kissed his cheek. “There, all better now?” She tossed the vine out and away from them.

  By late morning, the drizzle continued, and in the spaces between the overhead branches, there was only a thick cloud cover showing. Steve was now taking his turn leading them out. He was also the first one into the heavy bog.

  “Crap.” He tried to pull on his legs, but they were mired to the knees. He grunted and managed to lift one leg up, but it forced the other deeper.

  Ben was only about twenty feet behind him and came as fast as he could but stopped before the oily-looking area Steve had wallowed into.

  “Lay flat,” Ben said. “Might be quick mud.”

  “Ah, Jesus.” Steve turned about, obviously not wanting to get coated in the oily sludge. Close by was a tree with one limb hanging out fairly close to him. So instead, he strained to reach it.

  “Stop there!” Ben yelled, freezing the man.

  By now, the group had hauled themselves closer but also froze. Ben pointed to the man. “Lower your hand, and lay flat, now.” He followed the tree branch up the limb and then higher.

  Steve did as he was asked, lying out on his belly. “What? What is it?”

  Jenny narrowed her eyes. “Bullet ants…in the tree. Very bad.”

  Ben had spotted the machine-like insects on the tree limb – he’d met them before, and Jenny’s summation of very bad didn’t even begin to describe the little monsters. The inch-long ants had enormous jaws and a sting that felt like an electric shock. Their nests were usually on the ground, but they spent their time in tree canopies. Any perceived threat to the ants, the nest, or the trees, elicited an overwhelming and sometimes deadly attack.

  Steve was just a head and neck showing now, and he tried to turn to look up at the branch. “Do they –?”

  “Yes, and damn painfully.” Ben dropped his pack in the sludge and pulled it open, dragging out some rope. “You grab that branch, they’d swarm down onto you.”

  He threw one end to Steve and handed the rest to the team. “Stay flat and swim towards us.” He half turned. “On three, two, one…heave.” They tugged, sliding Steve out of the bog.

  The young carpenter got to his feet, coated in the thick, oily mess. “Thanks.” He scowled as he wiped himself down. “Nothing a shower and a couple of margaritas won’t fix.” He held something up that was dripping with mud.

  Andrea giggled, and Steve immediately brightened. “What did you find?” she asked.

  Ben shook his head. Great idea; take a team of novices into the Amazon – what could possibly go wrong? he thought.

  “There was something in there,” Steve said, showing them what looked like a broken bowl.

  “Let me see that,” Jenny said, pushing forward.

  Steve scraped more mud from the shard and handed it to her. Jenny got her water bottle and splashed some on it.

  “Hey,” Ben said sharply.

  “Just a bit,” Jenny said, rubbing at the pottery, and then holding it in front of her face. “Old, very old.”

  Dan grinned. “You just found yourself a souvenir, buddy.”

  Steve wiped more greasy mud down from his shirt. “Yeah, definitely worth it.”

  “So, there were people here once,” Emma said.

  “A long time ago maybe,” Jenny replied distractedly. “This looks Mayan, but not as stylized. It’s more primitive.”

  “More primitive?” Dan scoffed. “I thought those guys were first here about 4,000 years ago. How could it be more primitive than that?”

  “Maybe it’s not. Maybe they were here after the Mayans – a separate race.” Jenny rubbed more of the mud from the images carved into the bowl.

  Ben came in closer and saw there were small figures, many tied together by ropes around their necks. They were being herded towards some sort of large slit-eyed gargoyle thing.

  “Reminds me a little of the carving on the rock face in the stream. Might be the same people.”

  “Long gone now, I’d say.” Emma looked around. “Might have been washed down from somewhere.”

  Jenny handed the pottery back to Steve. “Well, someone had to be here originally to start all the myth-making.”


  Steve took the bowl and went to take his pack off his shoulders, but Ben shook his head.

  “Leave it, Steve. You don’t need the extra weight right now.”

  “Aww.” He looked at it again. “Might be valuable.”

  “And if it is, then our antiquities department will never let you take it from our country.” Nino shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “I’ll pay any duties on it,” Dan said. “He swam in quick mud to rescue that; he deserves it.”

  “Yep.” Steve searched for a moment and then selected a large tree where he placed the bowl at its base. “I’ll see you on the way back.”

  “Finished?” Ben sighed and then waved them on. “Come on, and everyone keep their wits about them, and touch…”

  “Nothing,” they said back in unison.

  In another hour, Ben broke from the swamp and out into a landscape of tree ferns that reached onward and gradually upward into the distance. He shook off his backpack and gloves, and wiped his brow. Even with his large and battle-hardened frame, he felt a little dizzy with fatigue.

  “See here.” Nino crouched just at the edge of the forest. There was a ring of stones, and at its center burned remains of a fire as well as some fish bones. He dipped fingers into the ash and rubbed them together for a moment before standing.

  “Less than half a day.” He walked slowly around the stones, contemplating the ground. “Three, four people, all big men.”

  Ben pulled out some field glasses and surveyed the distance. There was nothing showing, but even though they were leaving the canopy cover of the jungle, the plain of tree ferns still grew to a height of about 10 feet, throwing out broad umbrella-like fronds.

  “This was their camp before they headed off up the slope. We’re not far behind.” He put his glasses back in their pouch. “But means they’re in front of us.”

  “Question?” Dan held up a finger. “What happens when we actually catch up to them…or them to us?”

  Ben grinned. “That all depends on whether they’re the ones who have my map.”

  “Oh yeah.” Dan saluted with a grin. “Then you’re in charge of negotiations.”

  The slope became steeper, and the climb more energy sapping. After another few hours, it leveled back out and they took a quick break. Looking back down from where they had just climbed, they could see the near endless jungle from which they had just trekked. As Ben expected, though they had traversed a river and stream for many miles, both were invisible below, and the jungle looked dense and unbroken.

  “Hey.” Steve had out his GPS and turned one way, then the other. “Same with my compass.”

  “What’s up?” Emma asked.

  “Look.” He held out the device. “It says signal interruption. And the compass is just going haywire.”

  They crowded around, all offering advice, suggestions, and possible solutions.

  “Oh shit.” Ben quickly tried his phone and found that there was no reception, even though he should’ve been able to pick up any communication satellite anywhere with the new phone he specially obtained. “No signal on the phones as well. What the hell’s going on?”

  Dan put his hands on his hips and turned about. “I can make a few educated guesses based on spot signal black outs in remote areas.” He turned to face them. “Signal jamming, shielding, or my favorite guess, a meteorite.”

  “Huh?” Steve’s brows came together. “Did you say meteorite?”

  “Yep.” Dan shrugged. “There’s a phenomenon that occurs sometimes where a large iron-based meteorite or meteorite fragments are scattered about – it can partially, or totally, disrupt signals. All I’m saying is, that maybe millions of years ago, it fell to earth and the entire mass is buried here, creating a slightly magnetic field and disrupting our signals.”

  Dan looked up. “You know, if it’s this strong, it’d also cause a grey zone on satellite imagery.” He chuckled. “And that is real cool.”

  The rain started to fall again, heavier. Andrea looked miserable. “Why?” she asked. “Why is it cool?”

  He turned to her. “Because it means that with satellite blackout, and the remoteness, and the superstition keeping the locals away, and also that permanent cloud cover, means this place simply doesn’t exist on any map. We’re invisible.”

  “But it does,” Jenny said. “This place has been mapped before. There are satellite images.”

  “It only happens every 10 years,” Emma added. “So not something permanent.”

  There was silence for a few moments before Ben grunted. “Maybe not in the wettest months…every 10 years or so.” He turned his head slightly. “In the notebook, Benjamin remarked that there was a window of opportunity when the hidden place was able to be found. Could this weird magnetic thing have any bearing on that?”

  “No.” Dan’s mouth was turned down.

  “Yes,” Emma shot back. “I think Dan might be partially right.”

  Dan’s brows went up. “Oh yeah?”

  Emma folded her arms. “What if it’s not a meteorite, but a comet? What if the effects are being felt, but it never actually crashed here, but was just passing by.” She grinned. “Like once every 10 years.”

  “Fucking brilliant.” Dan clapped. “That could do it. Especially if this is the absolute closest point on the Earth where it makes its pass, or apparition as they call it. This is the focal disruption point. Maybe it creates some sort of humungous magnetic storm.”

  “Passes once every 10 years and generates a humongous magnetic storm, giving this place the wettest of months.” Ben thought it through as something nagged at him.

  “Sure, I mean there are hundreds of comets shooting through our solar system. They are swung from the sun, they return, and then head back out after a few days.” Dan’s eyes were bright now.

  “Must hurry, only days until Primordia returns,” Ben said softly. He looked up. “That was a notation in Benjamin’s notebook.”

  “Yes.” Dan pointed at Ben’s chest. “They give comets two names; a scientific name, and a nickname. I bet Primordia is the name of the comet that returns once every 10 years – he only had days until it was returning.”

  “Like it did for Benjamin in 1908.” Ben turned to Emma. “We saw it; the streak in the sky.”

  “Oh shit; you’re right. It must have been the comet’s tail.” Her mouth hung open.

  “It’s called a coma,” Dan said.“So, it is a comet.”

  “And now it’s back again for us in 2018.” Steve held his arms wide. “We’re here at the right time.” He held his hand out, letting raindrops fall onto it. “The wettest season.”

  “This is so cool.” Andrea clapped her small hands.

  Ben pulled out his long bush knife and slashed it into the trunk of a large tree several times, marking an arrowhead formation. “From now on, we’ll need to blaze a trail. With no compass, GPS, stars or sun to follow, we’ve only got line of sight.” He looked back out at the jungle. “Getting lost in here will be a fast trip to hell.”

  After another few hours, the ground leveled out a little more and once again, the jungle started closing in. Andrea continually complained now, of being tired, having sore feet, of her thirst and headache. She also seemed to be turning Steve into her personal servant. Ben smiled. Perhaps Steve didn’t mind at all.

  The tree trunks started to get closer together, and once again, the ever-present vines started to slow their progress. Ben turned to see Jenny had stopped to examine a peculiar-looking tree trunk. She squinted at it, and Ben raised a hand to call a halt.

  “Jenny?”

  She stepped back, craning her neck up the length of the trunk, and then simply pointed at it. “Impossible.”

  Ben sucked in a breath and crossed to her. “What is?”

  “This.” Her eyes gleamed.

  Ben looked at the trunk; it had curious bark that was growing in segments like overlapping shingles. It was about 3 feet around the trunk, and it rose a good fifty feet into the air, where it s
ported only sparse branches and leaves that were flat and more like grass.

  “Never seen it before.” He shrugged. “But then, I don’t think I’ve seen 90% of the plants down here before. Nino?”

  The Venezuelan glanced at it and hiked his shoulders. “No, Señor Ben, never seen it before.”

  “You’re right, you haven’t, and neither have I, or for that matter, neither has anyone in modern times.” Jenny took a picture. “I think it’s a Lepidodendron; also known as the scale tree.” She turned to him. “And the reason you haven’t seen them before is the same reason no one has seen one before – they’re Carboniferous Period remnants and been extinct for over 100 million years.”

  “So, old, huh?” Steve joined them and put a hand against the bark, and then rapped on it with his knuckles. “Feels soft. Not like wood at all.”

  “That’s right,” Jenny said. “Because they weren’t like true trees, and probably more closely related to club mosses or quillworts.” She smiled. “You only ever see these guys now as coal.”

  Emma turned about. “There’s quite a few of them here; maybe this is where they survived.”

  “Unlikely.” Jenny pulled out her field glasses, but there was nothing to see through the dense foliage and cloud cover. “Modern competition wiped them out. They must survive somewhere else. They reproduce by spores and so probably would have blown in from somewhere else.”

  “Or floated down. From where they’ve survived untouched for millions of years,” Dan added with a grin. “We must be so close.”

  The rain eased, then stopped as if a tap had been turned.

  “Let’s take five while we have a break in the weather. Grab something to eat,” Ben said and found a rock to sit down on. He opened the notebook and leafed through the pages. Emma came and sat beside him.

  “What does Benjamin the 1st have to say?”

  “He also says we’re close… I think.” He looked up and over her head. “We can’t see much with all this low cloud. But somewhere around here is the foot of the plateau, and also some sort of temple he mentions.”