Uncontacted, page 10
Antonio ripped it out of his arm with a choice curse and threw it out of the plane as the aircraft’s wheels clipped the canopy’s uppermost leaves, barely clearing the upper reaches of the rain forest. He willed another ten feet of elevation from the beleaguered aircraft and then leveled the plane out. Satisfied he had done it, had taken off and gone truly airborne, he turned around in his seat and looked back.
The tribal warrior party stood amassed at the end of the clearing, pumping their spears and bows and arrows in a menacing display of anger. Antonio turned back around and let loose a long sigh of relief as he checked his plane’s compass. Recalling the heading he needed to reach his team’s base camp, the ecologist made the necessary course correction and flew his little plane over the rain forest.
#
After casting a nervous glance at his fuel gauge, which showed the level to be perilously low, Antonio eyed his landing strip and prepared to begin his approach. He picked up his radio and transmitted to base camp. Richards picked up right way.
“Tony, we were getting a little worried, you crazy bastard. Everything okay?”
“Short answer: yes, but we need to pack up and get out of here. This expedition’s over.”
“Copy that. I hear your whiny stinkpot coming over the trees now. Better concentrate on your flying, we’ll meet you on the landing strip.”
Antonio guided his ultralight down on the cleared strip, a much better runway than the natural one he had just taken off from. The graduate assistants and Richards ran out to greet him as soon as the plane came to a stop, the propeller still spinning. After handshakes and hugs all the way around, Antonio left with Richards while the assistants tended to the plane.
“Listen, Antonio, you got an urgent call while you were gone—a direct sat-phone call—from none other than our esteemed colleague, Dr. Stel Foster,” Richards said as he and Antonio fell into step at a jog toward their camp.
“Oh, good! So he decided to call back.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t tell me what was up, said he wanted to talk to you personally, but it sounded important, I mean he was really anxious to—“ he was interrupted by a chirpy electronic warbling. “Speak of the devil…” Richards pulled the sat-phone from his pocket and glanced at its display.
“It’s him, here.” He handed the phone to Antonio, who accepted the call and placed the phone to his ear.
“Dr. Medina speaking.”
The voice that came out of the speaker sounded far away, a little tinny, but without a doubt it belonged to the academic rival Antonio had known for so long. “Antonio, I’m really glad I’ve finally reached you. Thank you for contacting me. You are in the Amazon as we speak, correct?”
Antonio said that he was, and Stel continued. “Listen, Antonio, I know we’ve had a checkered past, but it seems a rare opportunity has come up for us to help each other.” Stel went on to recap his contract work for the Indian government in the Andaman islands, his contact with the little-known tribe there, and their strange, unknown language, as well as some kind of written records they appear to be keeping. Antonio heard the man out, including his account of bringing the tribal man to England, while he and Richards slowed to a walk but continued toward the camp.
“So let me just be clear, Dr. Foster. You’re telling me that, even after…transporting this tribal native all the way to England for controlled assessment by multiple anthropologists and linguists, that you have still been unable to say for sure what dialect he speaks?”
“That’s exactly the case, Dr. Medina. Frankly, I’m stunned, I’m stymied. The upshot is that I cannot decipher the language. It’s so strange, and in a way it seems vaguely Brazilian tribal. I know you were called in by the Brazilian government to investigate the jungle city deaths. I need to meet with you and see if we can establish a connection between the two tribes. There seems to be a link of some kind, although I know that sounds far-fetched.”
“Very interesting. The reason I called you in the first place was to seek your collaboration in formally assessing the unknown tribe I have discovered. Where would you like to meet?” Antonio stopped walking as they reached the opening of their camp’s clearing. He needed to make sure he heard this right.
“In London.”
“London?” Antonio exclaimed, drawing a curious stare from Richards.
“I know it’s ridiculously far away, but that’s where we have the subject. It’s the only place in the world I could think of to bring him where I’d have sufficient control of the situation. Even so, my own people are clamoring for me to return him to his village, since we have been unable to communicate with him. Obviously, we can’t keep him here for long. So you’re my last ditch hope, since you’re over there now with an uncontacted tribe that, from what little I heard of it, sounded like it had an intriguing language. And of course I’d pay all your expenses, plus a handsome consultant fee for your troubles.”
“You don’t have to pay me, Dr. Foster. I was the one who called you first, remember? We both need each other. I’ve got an…artifact of sorts I want you to see, too, that I’ll be bringing with me. Let’s just leave it at that for now. I’ll be there tomorrow, assuming we get out of here before my new friends track me down at our camp here. Speaking of that, I better get going.”
“Quite. Very well then, Dr. Medina. I look forward to seeing you on this side of the pond.”
They ended the call and Antonio shrugged out of his pack while he looked at Richards. “We’re all in danger here. I took something from the unknown tribe and I fear it might be important enough for them to hunt us down.”
Richards glanced at Antonio’s backpack. “What is it?”
Antonio’s eyes widened. “I’ll show you once we’re in the air. I don’t want to take it out right now. Don’t ask me to explain this, but I’m afraid it might somehow draw them to us.”
Chapter 18
Next day, Oxford University, England
The next twenty-four hours were a whirlwind of travel for Antonio, with the means of transportation progressing from modest (hiking through the jungle to the river boat, motoring down various tributaries to the small airport), to modern (landing at Eduardo Gomes International Airport and transferring to a 777 transoceanic direct to London, where he was met by an Uber driver who took him to Oxford).
Antonio straightened out the London Fog trench coat, slacks and dress shirt he bought in the Heathrow duty free shop, figuring that outfit to be much more appropriate than his jungle expedition khakis. As for his luggage, he carried only one piece, a small duffel bag which he was able to carry on the plane so that he never had to let the artifact it contained out of his sight, something he would not be willing to do. He had a scary moment going first through airport security at Gomes International, and then customs at Heathrow. But in both cases, the inspectors never asked to see inside his bag. He was glad, because once, somewhere over the Atlantic, he’d pulled his bag out from its place under the seat in front of him, and, after checking the person in the seat next to him was still sleeping, he’d opened the bag to find the artifact glowing a dull green. He had no idea how to turn it off, if it could be turned off, or even what it was, but private jet travel was not an option to academic researchers unless they wanted to attract a whole lot of audits and suspicion, so he flew commercial and took his chances.
He followed the very careful directions that had been texted to him ahead of time by Dr. Foster, which prevented him from having to attract undue attention to the operation by asking around. It was the end of the business day at Oxford, and while school was still in session and plenty of people were about, it wasn’t as crowded as it would have been had he shown up in the morning or mid-day. Antonio found Foster’s building without any trouble, pulled open the heavy glass door and stepped into a hallway. He took the elevator to the fourth floor and proceeded down a hallway until he found the room number given to him by Dr. Foster.
Antonio tried the door but it was locked, so he knocked. A British-accented voice called out from within, who’s there, and Antonio identified himself. The door opened, and he was greeted by Dr. Stel Foster himself. He looked a little thinner than when he’d seen him last time, Antonio thought, but that was a while ago.
“What’s it been, Dr. Foster, four, five years?”
“Too long whatever it is, mate. Come on in, won’t you?” He stepped aside and glanced nervously out into the hall while Antonio entered, then shut and locked the door.
“I trust the rest of your team made it out of the jungle all right?”
Antonio nodded as he took in the space—an entrance room that was a lab of sorts, or maybe more like a museum back room, with myriad shelves and lab benches stocked with various artifacts: primate skulls, human skulls, maps, globes, stone and bone tools, earthen pottery, as well as various modern tools and equipment such as shovels, ground penetrating radar units, metal detectors and a few Antonio was not familiar with.
“Yes, we managed it okay. The rest of my associates are at my lab in Texas now, with the distinct pleasure of unloading all of our gear.”
At this Foster laughed. “Well I’m sure you’ll make it up to them somehow, won’t you?”
Antonio nodded. “Hopefully with a string of well-received journal articles resulting from the long and fruitful collaboration you and I are about to embark on, are you with me?”
Foster stopped walking and made eye contact. “Now you’re speaking my language, chap.” He nodded to the bag in Antonio’s hand. “Does that contain merely your personal effects, or is it the article from the jungle of which you spoke?”
“It is the article.” Antonio hefted the bag. “But first, if you don’t mind, I’m dying to see the subject.”
Foster nodded. “Of course you are. Let’s get right to work, shall we? This way.” Foster walked through an inner door into what was obviously his actual office, a medium-sized room lined with bookcases, filing cabinets, and with a large desk bearing a desktop computer with triple monitors. Foster didn’t pause here, but continued through the room to another closed door.
“I’m assuming you flew private, but how did you even get him across the campus and up here without anyone seeing, might I ask?”
Foster opened the door, looked inside, then back to Antonio. “We brought him in at three in the morning, wrapped in a blanket, the only thing he would wear.”
“And he’s been eating, drinking?”
“Water and fruits only, but yes. C’mon in, have a look for yourself.”
Antonio followed Dr. Foster into the next room, which was actually one long room partitioned into two smaller ones. A glass window was set into a wall separating the two halves. Even though three men he had never before met were seated at a table in the room in which he now stood, it was the room beyond that held Antonio’s attention.
A naked man sat on the edge of an expensive swivel chair, three feet back from the table. The table was covered with food items, including fried chicken, a plate of bacon, some roast beef, but mostly bowls of various fruits. His nose was pierced with bones or small tusks, and his face, chest, arms and legs were decorated with extensive tattoos, mostly bluish in appearance, and drawn in thin, flowing lines. His hair was black, almost shoulder length but unevenly cut. Antonio looked at him and nodded, a greeting he found to be less threatening to tribal natives than a wave or any kind of hand gesture.
“He can’t see you through the one-way glass,” Stel said. “But before we take you in to get to know him, I’d like you to meet my esteemed colleagues, here.” Foster indicated the academics seated at the table and extended a hand to one with a full beard and dressed a bit more casually than the other two. “This is Alfred Algers, anthropologist on the faculty here at Oxford. He was lucky enough to be there with me in the Andamans when I first got the idea to bring this chap home with us.” He nodded to the tribal man while Alfred gave a sarcastic laugh.
“Lucky indeed. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Dr. Medina, though I must say I’m far more interested to see what’s in that bag of tricks of yours.”
Antonio felt the weight of the duffel bag pulling on his shoulder as he reached out to shake Alfred’s hand. Before he could reply, Dr. Foster moved on with his introductions, acquainting the two tribal linguistics experts with Antonio. One of them was obviously elderly, and inwardly, Antonio questioned when was the last time he could have been in the field, that is, deep in the Amazon rain forest where these tribes live. He said nothing about it, since he was a guest here, was jet lagged, and because he wasn’t a linguist himself at all. The other gentleman, the younger one who Stel said handled the previous “sessions” with the tribal subject, was relatively short on words at the moment, but appeared to be genuinely interested in anything or anyone who could shed light on the mystery at hand.
Stel clapped his hands together, his way of concluding the introductions. “All right then, Dr. Medina, would you care to meet our subject?” Antonio said he was ready, and Stel led him to the door into the subject room. He opened it and waved him inside. “As I’m sure you know, keep your movements slow and predictable, nothing that could be perceived as menacing.”
Antonio said he understood and then passed into the room. The indigenous man watched him enter but otherwise made no movement or acknowledgement of his presence. Antonio walked slowly to the table and set his bag on it before taking a chair himself and resting his hands in plain view on the table.
He made eye contact with the man and uttered the two-syllable greeting he had just heard the unknown tribe he visited in the Amazon use when two of their members walked past one another. The reaction was instant and unmistakable. The tribal man’s eyes widened while he stared at Antonio. He raised his head and pushed back slightly in his chair.
Immediately the door opened and Stel popped his head through. “Dr. Medina, can you please rejoin us in here for a moment?”
Antonio nodded to the tribal man and slowly got up from his chair and went back into the other room, closing the door behind him.
“How did you do that?”
“What was that?” Both linguists were shouting at him at once while Stel stood and beamed.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, give him a chance to explain, please! Dr. Medina—may I call you Antonio at this point? Do go ahead.”
Antonio took a seat at the table and shrugged. “I’m not sure what the language is called, or if it’s even known, but it was a simple greeting I witnessed firsthand only a couple of days ago when I stayed in the tribal village in the Brazilian Amazon.” Antonio flashed once again on his father, and pushed the images aside. He hadn’t mentioned to anyone, even his own team members, that he had found, and then lost, his Dad. It all seemed too much to convey in addition to everything else that was going on.
“His reaction was so immediate!” the older linguist noted.
Stel shook his head. “But hold on…how is this even possible? How do two tribes on different sides of the planet, both of which may be rightfully classified as ‘uncontacted’ by modern civilization, speak the same language?”
Both linguists shook their heads. At length, the older one said, “It’s unheard of.”
Stel turned to Antonio. “Do you know any more vocabulary?”
“A little bit. Let me go back in and try some more things.”
The three Oxford men nodded and Antonio returned to the subject room. This time, upon entering, the tribal man uttered the greeting in his native language, which Antonio returned in kind before seating himself at the table once again.
While the jungle native munched on a plantain purchased at a local Whole Foods market, Antonio pulled his duffel bag in front of him on the table and unzipped the bag. He glanced quickly at the artifact, which currently displayed no color. Then Antonio removed the object from the bag—the hemisphere of strange, blackened rock containing the computerized LED panel—and set it on the table in front of the tribal individual.
The subject’s reaction was swift and decisive. His eyes widened in what appeared to be a mix of fear and recognition upon seeing the article, and he immediately pushed back on his chair, which tipped over. He sprawled to the floor, his organic plantain flying from his hands. Then he scrambled to his feet and ran to the room’s farthest wall, where he cowered in a corner, shrinking to a sitting position on the floor while still staring at the artifact, one arm held out in front of his face as if in self-defense.
The door to the interview room opened and all three Oxford men rushed inside.
“What is it, what’s happening?” Stel breathed.
Antonio, still seated at the table, pointed to the artifact, which now glowed a steady but dull red. “This is what I found deep in a cave system near the uncontacted tribe’s village in Brazil. They claim to have been guarding it for many generations.”
The younger linguist addressed him. “How did they communicate with you enough to get that across?”
Antonio realized his mistake too late, because of course it was his father who had done the explaining for him. Without mentioning him, he was going to have a difficult time indeed of making it clear how he came to know such a thing. With the eyes of three experts now on him, he knew he had to come up with something, even though he did not feel up to revealing what had happened with his father.
“I could tell by the way they placed importance on the cave, how they posted guards around it. They even shot arrows at my ultralight plane just because I flew over it. So all that, combined with—“
He was running out of credible things to add and so would be lying if he said he wasn’t thankful for the interruption the tribal subject next provided.
In a guttural, angry voice, the indigenous man began yelling at the three men from his position on the floor in the corner, while pointing at the artifact, which still glowed red. Antonio forced himself to block out the sheer spectacle of it all and slow down the man’s actual words in his mind. He put his own hands on his temples as he did this, to indicate to the others he was trying to concentrate, before they all started asking questions at once.
