Uncontacted, page 7
Aware of these dangers, he was preparing to turn around when a faint sparkle caught his eye. Ahead and to his left. A glowing that was steady with no pulse. As he watched, it maintained its brightness and he was able to fix its position. Hands out in front of him in case he should walk into a rock wall, and taking slow and careful steps lest he step off a ledge, Antonio made his way forward.
As he did, he saw another pinpoint glow source, and then another…and another. The light was a faint bluish illumination, one he guessed was bioluminescence, but from what, God only knew, and it was an eerie light at that. A spooky glow was better than darkness, though, and Antonio allowed his vision to adjust to it as his gaze probed the spaces ahead.
One foot at a time, he made his way deeper into the subterranean labyrinth, the glow intensifying the deeper he went. He didn’t know exactly when it happened, but was aware after a time that he could see without straining, that the entire cavern system was bathed in a low but pervasive cerulean hue.
With this light also came the understanding that this was no mere burrow holed into the dirt by rummaging animals, but a true geological wonder, obviously carved out of the Earth over millennia of patient grinding, drip by drip by drip of water carrying impurities belched from deep within the planet. Stalactites and stalagmites studded the ceiling and floors, glittering with unknown minerals.
Antonio was shocked at the sheer size of this underground system. He pictured the area from above as he had seen it on the way in from his ultralight. The green mountain with its majestic waterfall cascading out of the side, high near the top, falling below into a never-ending explosion of mist. The rain forest canopy had shrouded these wonders that waited in the ground, and now he was experiencing them firsthand.
And what an experience it was. The dripping of water echoed throughout the luminous cavern system as Antonio took his bearings. He found it difficult to entertain thoughts of leaving the cave after seeing its intriguing beauty. He stepped deeper into the underground area, finding that it became gradually lighter the deeper he penetrated. More bioluminescence everywhere, all around him. He knew he should turn back now, though. Looking ahead, there were many branching passages and places to go. Even though it was somehow naturally lit, he could still get lost. The place was incredible, though; he just had to stand and stare at it for a while. Stalagmites taller than he was rose out of the floor, and equally impressive stalactites descended from the ceiling, both even touching in some places to form one continuous column from floor to ceiling. What caused the glowing light? Microbes, he thought, gazing in wonder at the marvelous display around him. Fungus? Maybe some kind of aquatic life form? His thoughts ran rampant with speculation. He had just made up his mind to turn back when his consciousness registered a new sound.
Faint, but repetitive. Different than the water drips that relentlessly fell from the cave ceiling, as they had for countless millennia, sculpting this entire cave one patient drop at a time. Antonio stopped thinking about the cave altogether and focused on the sound.
Footsteps! And not animal, either, by the sound of them, but human. Two feet splashing along. Probably bare feet, Antonio mused. Someone from the tribe was coming to check on him.
The splashy footfalls increased in pace, as if the person was growing more sure of where they were going. His father had said they were guarding a secret here, that they were very protective of it. He had come here to investigate it, and now someone from the tribe was coming.
The steps were very near now, and Antonio knew if he remained standing where he was that the person would see him in a matter of seconds. He flashed on the note from his father (They are going to kill you), and moved deeper into the cavern.
Chapter 12
Andaman Islands, Indian Ocean
The rain slowed Foster’s team considerably. It came without warning, a near-torrential downpour that portended the coming monsoon season. The water from the sky was a double-edged sword, because while it made it harder to track the tribe, it also made his party more difficult to detect. By the time they reached the stone monument, they had lost sight of all of the tribal people.
“Pretty sure they picked up a game trail that way, there.” Alfred pointed into the lush jungle, waves of misty steam now rising from the ground as the rain seemed to evaporate soon after it fell. Stel frowned in that direction, then looked up at the falling rain that pelted their safari-style hats.
“Let’s set up camp.”
Alfred looked confused. “Camp? What for? I thought we were following the—“
“Impossible in this rain. And it’s time to check in with the powers that be, give them a little update on our progress.”
Alfred threw up his hands and addressed the porters about setting up a camp. Stel ducked under some leaf cover thick enough to provide a semi-dry spot while the tent was being put up. He took out his Iridium satellite phone and placed a call to his liaison at the Indian Office of Indigenous Affairs. After the obligatory holds and transfers, he was finally connected to his contact, a high-ranking administrator with the Office.
“Mr. Patel, it’s good I was able to reach you.”
“I hope it is, Dr. Foster, I certainly hope so. Tell me, what news do you have for me?”
Stel cleared his throat while he looked back at the progress on the tent; it would be nice to be out of this rain completely. But they were still working on it, the porters stopping to chew some betel leaves. “I’m afraid the news is scant so far, Mr. Patel. The tribal people are extremely hostile and I have been unable to learn very much about them so far, out of fear for my life. As we speak, sir, I am literally cowering in the bushes.”
An irritated sigh was audible through the phone. “Dr. Foster, we already knew they were extremely hostile, that’s why we retained your services. We’re paying you to learn something about them, so that we may be able to solve this problem in a non-violent manner. Also, two Thai fishermen have been reported missing, and although their boat was never found, current and wind patterns would have sent them to the Andamans if they were disabled and adrift. Look for them while you’re at it.”
“I understand what you’ve contracted me to do. And while I haven’t yet been able to make the kind of headway you expect, nor have I come across any stranded fishermen—I do have a couple of things you may find interesting.”
“Interesting?” Patel’s voice dripped with skepticism. “Is that interesting as in, oh that’s nice, how interesting? Or is it actionable, interesting?”
Stel shrugged to himself in the rain before answering. These government wankers are the same the world over. Think they can understand things from behind a desk hundreds of miles away…
“I’ll let you make that decision for yourself, Mr. Patel. First of all, these people are speaking a language I’ve never bloody heard before. You are aware that I am among the foremost indigenous languages experts in the world, if not the foremost?”
“Again, Dr. Foster, this was one of the main reasons we hired you. Go on.”
“The fact that the language is so unique is highly unusual. It will require further study.”
“This is not a research grant, Dr. Foster. We are paying you to ameliorate the situation between this tribe and the passing fishermen, so that clashes do not continue.”
“Of course. We did find one other thing.”
“Go ahead.”
“The tribe appears to be keeping some sort of records in a sealed stone vessel. It’s most unusual for such a primitive people.”
“And that’s all you know about it?”
Stel blushed at the insult. “So far, yes, but—“
“It doesn’t sound terribly important to me, Dr. Foster. Remember, you’re not on an archaeology expedition here, you’re supposed to be figuring out how we can keep the peace. So these artifacts, whatever they are, should only be considered useful insofar as they further that goal. Are we clear?”
Stel said he was.
“Good. You need to make some real progress in order for our retainer with you to be renewed.”
“Very well, Mr., Patel. I—“
But he heard the click signifying the call had disconnected. Bastard.
“Tent’s ready!” Alfred called. Stel turned around to see the rest of his team standing beneath the shelter of the tent. He walked over and joined them beneath the tarp, and not two seconds later, the rain stopped.
“Great, this whole expedition is going just bloody fantastic, isn’t it?”
“What’s the matter, sir?” Alfred asked.
While the porters unpacked some of their gear, Stel recapped his call with Mr. Patel to Alfred. Near the end of his account, Alfred slowly raised his arm and pointed out of the tent, across the forest. Stel followed his finger and saw a lone tribal man stooping down to collect a bowl or bucket of some sort that had filled with the recent rain water. There were perhaps a dozen such containers lined up, but he carried only one at a time.
“We need to accelerate things on this, Alfred. This isn’t going to be as easy as I thought, Without being able to understand them, I can’t really act as a mediator, now, can I?”
“I suppose not.”
“Not only that, they’re hiding some kind of secret with those records. It’s just not normal for a people like this to keep archived records on stone. How did they learn to do that? Who are they?”
“Good questions, sir. But how are we going to learn their language sufficiently to communicate in such a short time?”
As they watched, the tribal man returned and picked up another rain water bowl. Stel stroked the stubble on his chin. An idea took shape in Dr. Foster’s mind, one that scared and excited him at the same time.
“We need a little one-on-one time with a single tribe member, rather than waltzing in on their terms and having them treat us like the outside curiosities we are. We’ll never get anything done that way. “
“So what are you proposing, Stel?”
He watched the tribal man heft another water vessel and turn away to carry it back to wherever he was taking them. “Instead of us going to them, I think we should bring one of them to us.”
Chapter 13
Brazilian Amazon
Antonio’s adrenaline spiked as he reached the edge of a pot-hole like depression in the cave floor. He almost fell into it, a fall that would have made more than enough noise for his pursuer to home in on. He still harbored a faint hope that they didn’t know he was in here, that this person in the cave was just checking, just to be sure, that whatever it was they were guarding in here was still safe in the outsider’s presence.
But somehow he doubted that. If he’d been seen entering the cave, then that was it. The man behind him was probably a skilled warrior for the tribe, one for whom killing the outsider in their sacred hiding place would be quite the coup.
Antonio eyed the way forward, deeper into the cavern and away from the indigenous man. The bioluminescence was barely sufficient to allow him to move at a decent pace while still being able to see enough to avoid smashing his head into a hanging stalactite, or falling into a watery pit. But move forward he did, and quietly. Never had Antonio been so frightened in the field as this. He’d never met an uncontacted tribe before now, though. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea coming here by myself, he thought, as he put a hand on a stalagmite and swung himself around it and over a clump of uneven rock to land on smooth ground.
He stood still and heard the footsteps, approaching faster now. He had to hide. He knew that he had no hopes of eluding this tribal warrior in his own backyard, in his own sacred place he was entrusted by his people to guard. The man would hunt him down and kill him, like an animal. He had seen it done once, many years ago. And he had understood the mistake the man had made, a hunter who had shown no respect for the tribe’s territory. He had only to share his meal…Antonio blocked the vicious memory. He needed to concentrate, needed to reason….He thought about simply running until he reached the cave exit, but even if he were to outrun this warrior, once he gave word to the village that he had seen the newcomer there….
Antonio shook his head. To not be seen at all was truly his only option. Anything else would result in his own death, of that he had no doubt. His father’s death would be discovered soon, too, and although it wasn’t his fault and they would have no reason to think he had actually done it, he knew the kinds of superstitions tribes held. He would be seen as a harbinger of doom, a bringer of bad luck; one minute, everything was fine, the next, this white man is here and one of our people is dead. Antonio wondered what they thought of his father--how he had been accepted by the tribe, but that was something to ruminate over another time. Right now, he had to survive.
He quickly scanned his surroundings. About twenty feet away was a formation of stalagmites, a clump of stony spires that rose from the floor in a roughly circular formation, with what looked like an open space in the center. Probably large enough for him to hide in, if he could slip between the spires.
Antonio heard the footfalls behind him cease. He waited, didn’t want to move while his hunter was also stopped, no doubt listening for signs of his quarry. When he heard the hunter start moving again—in the wrong direction, thank God, off to the left—Antonio dashed as quietly as he could to the stalagmite formation.
He reached the formation and circled around it sideways, looking for a space between two of the rocky poles that was wide enough to permit him to pass through. Halfway around, he found it. Antonio heard a loud splash—the hunter’s foot travelling at high speed into a shallow depression filled with water---and he slipped between the two stone columns.
He crouched instinctively. He found himself in the center of a four-foot diameter circle of stalagmites. Gazing up at the ceiling, hoping that he might find an avenue of escape in that direction, he was dismayed to see the cavern roof a good forty feet high, with no stalactites hanging down directly overhead. He continued to hear the progress of his hunter as he stood stock still in his circle of stone spires, like a prisoner behind bars. The tribal warrior was in his midst. As he seemed to glide across the cave floor, Antonio saw him in shuttered flashes as he watched through the stalagmites.
There was one last direction in which he hadn’t looked, so he glanced down, not expecting to see anything that would change the courses of action available to him. And yet, when he glanced downward, even though he could still hear the hunter approaching, he couldn’t tear his gaze from a blackish rock, about the size of a basketball, but cracked in half, sort of like a geode. It cast a similar light to what the natural cave phosphorescence was, and yet as he watched he saw that it changed colors, from blue to green to yellow….orange….
Then, as the glow morphed to red, Antonio saw something embedded inside the rock, something that was obviously a man-made object.
Slowly, Antonio reached down and touched it.
Chapter 14
Andaman Islands, Indian Ocean
“Stel, I’ve worked with you a long time now, but I’ll be goddamned if that’s not the craziest idea I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. Are you feeling okay, Dr. Foster?”
“Shhh, they’ll hear us! Take this.” Stel handed Alfred a length of rope. “Take it over to that tree, there.” He pointed to a nearby Dipterocarpus tree. “Wind it around the trunk a few times.”
Alfred’s gaze followed the rope to its other end. “But this is insane, Stel! We’re risking our lives!”
Stel dropped his rope and stepped up to his associate. “You don’t want to do this? Fine. Go wait on the beach. But when the boat picks us up, I’m going to be boarding with the next tribe member who comes to check on their dinner right here, and he’s leaving the island with us.” Stel indicated the animal meat cooking on a spit.
Alfred shook his head back and forth rapidly, as if trying to make sense of something that had no rhyme or reason to it. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it, Stel. I just…” He trailed off while watching the meat cook. He brought the binoculars to his eyes and focused in on what was being spit roasted. Stel was still talking, but Alfred wasn’t responding. He was just staring through the binoculars, mouth open.
“What is it, Alfred?”
Wordlessly, he passed Stel the optics. Stel focused in on the cooking meat, and then blanched as he realized what he was seeing.
“Is that…?”
“A human being cooked over a fire? I’d say it is, Stel. At first I thought it was a pig, but then I saw legs, arms.”
“Not a pig,” Stel said, his voice barely above a whisper. “A long pig.” The term referred to human meat, when consumed by cannibals.
“Bloody fantastic,” Alfred said sarcastically.
Stel shrugged from behind the binoculars. “Get out the camera, will you? I’d say we just found one of those lost fishermen.”
Alfred took a Nikon SLR camera with a 300 mm zoom lens from his pack and snapped off a series of photographs of the human meat being cooked. That done, he turned to Stel, who still studied the macabre scene through the binoculars. “Too bad his face is completely burned off, no way we can ID him on the spot.”
“You still feel like going through with that harebrained scheme of yours, Stel?”
Stel nodded. “This doesn’t change anything. Like the charming Mr. Patel said, we already knew these people were violent going into this.”
Alfred let loose a long, sarcastic chuckle. “Violent, yeah. Street gangs are violent, but they’re not bloody headhunting cannibals. This kind of takes it to another level.”
