by WW Mortensen
“What about that one yesterday, in the ground?” Ed said.
“I’d expect them to be more opportunistic. If anything, they might play a kind of guard role. In any case, I think all of them reside together as a group, and not only within the web, but the city itself. Within the pyramid.”
Ed looked at her. “The pyramid? What makes you say that?”
“For starters, there are workers out and about today. Where were they yesterday? And anyway, doesn’t it make perfect sense?”
“I guess it would explain why we thought the place was deserted,” Ed said.
Rebecca nodded. “And not just that. They’re hard to spot, too. I’m fairly certain they’re able to alter their colour and blend with their surroundings.”
“What… like a chameleon?”
“Yes, or like an octopus,” Rebecca said. “Octopi can merge perfectly with the background, by virtue of light-reflective cells known as chromatophores. The striations of colour on the backs of the jumpers—the hunters—that attacked us were different to those of the specimen at Base Camp. We noticed three spiders yesterday, but they were camouflaged, they blended with the trees. Today, those in web, the workers, are the colour of silk.”
Ed fidgeted. Rebecca saw him glance at her laptop, which was closed to conserve the battery. Sitting on top of it was a cylindrical vial. She picked it up, raised it to the light. “A sample of the venom from yesterday’s attack,” she said, studying the viscous, grey liquid. “It was all through the remains of your pack. Unfortunately, I don’t have the equipment to put it through a proper analysis, but I’ll take it home with me, run some tests when I get back. I was wondering what type it was.”
“Type?”
“What class of venom: neurotoxic, necrotic, maybe a combination.”
Ed took the vial from her hand and gazed into it. “What about tarantula venom? They’re big spiders. Maybe the type and toxicity are similar.”
“You could be right. Tarantulas aren’t seriously venomous—not to humans, anyway. Their bite might make you sick, but you won’t die. While this stuff might be deadly, there’s a chance it’s relatively harmless.”
“Interesting.”
Rebecca nodded. “Most highly venomous creatures are small. Larger creatures don’t need a powerful toxin, because they’re able to subdue their prey by force. These guys, while formidable, also live socially, so they’d need to keep their food fresh, bringing it back for others to feed. That the hunters appear to return to the nest would seem to support this.” She stared at the vial. “Most likely this is a slow-acting neurotoxin.”
Ed nodded. “So, rather than kill their prey outright, they paralyse them and bring them back to the nest—alive—for all to feed?”
“Probably, yes. Spiders can’t eat solid food, so they’d vomit up digestive fluid, pumping the victim’s wounds full of it until their insides are like soup. Then they’d imbibe the juices as though drinking from a straw—” Rebecca stopped herself, catching the sudden pained expression on Ed’s face. Berating herself for her insensitivity, she changed the subject. “You should get back to Jess. I want to hang around a while. I’m safe here and can see everything that’s going on. I’ll join you shortly.”
Ed stood. He wasn’t happy but seemed less opposed to the idea than before. “Promise me you’ll keep your eyes peeled and head back at the first sign of anything unusual. I mean it, Bec.”
“I will. Promise.”
With that he moved to leave, but hesitated, weighed with conflict. “I want you to know, I really missed you. I never realised how much until I saw you get off that boat three days ago.”
The words caught Rebecca off-guard. “I missed you too, Ed,” she said eventually. “Seeing you again has brought back some incredible memories.”
“I made a mistake, Bec, you know that. I should have tried harder. Tried to make it work, tried to make us work.”
“Ed…”
“I mean it.”
“It’s all in the past now.”
Ed nodded. He again turned to leave but then stopped and faced her once more. “Ever wonder what might have been? Maybe this is a second chance of sorts. There’s gotta be a reason why we’ve found ourselves here, now, together.”
“I know why I’m here,” Rebecca said, and smiled.
Ed smiled too, headed off again, but then turned on his heel once more.
“What now?”
“Hey, don’t get snippy.”
“Snippy?”
“I just wanted to leave this.” Ed reached into a pocket in his shorts, retrieved a small black object that looked like a cell phone with a stub antenna. He tossed it to her. “If you need anything, let me know.”
Rebecca caught the device, a comm radio. “Thanks,” she said, placing it on the ground beside her. “Will do.”
She turned back to the pyramid just as Ed himself turned—this time for good—and headed briskly back to camp.
31
The riverboat crept between drooping trees, winding through the narrow waterway to the staccato chug of the engine.
Sounds like it’s goddamned choking to death, Felipe Cartana thought. Of course, it wasn’t. That was how it always sounded.
He looked from the bow, back to the stern. In tow behind, bobbing in the wash of the larger boat, was a much smaller, newer, and faster watercraft. The Zodiac could seat twelve and was equipped with a 150-horsepower petrol motor, along with a much quieter electric one.
Including the driver, there were nine men on the boat. Most were either sleeping or cleaning weapons. Not Oliveira, who stood with his booted left foot upon the stern rail, watching the trailing Zodiac. Flicking the stub of his cigarette into the river, he headed up to the bow, towards Cartana. As he approached, Cartana, sitting in front of the wheelhouse, folded the tattered map and placed the GPS receiver on the deck beside him.
“How far now?” Oliveira asked in Brazilian Portuguese. As always, his eyes were hidden behind silver aviator sunglasses.
Cartana caught his own, admittedly rodent-like, features in the lenses of Oliveira’s glasses. He looked away to squint into the distance. “Not far,” he said simply. He ran thin fingers through his dark, oily hair, which he had neatly slicked back. “It won’t be long.”
Oliveira turned on his heel and disappeared. Cartana noted his queries were becoming more frequent. He sensed Oliveira’s growing impatience and wondered if this would shortly give way to anger. He hoped it wouldn’t.
Cartana turned forward again, still squinting.
Ahead, the river forked unexpectedly.
Strange. The main stem, the one they were following, headed off to the left, but to his surprise there was another, narrower stem branching right. He consulted the map but couldn’t find this smaller stream. The river constantly changed its course, but still…
He was hit by a thought and mulled it over.
There’s been a lot of rain in the last twenty-four hours…
He pursed his lips.
I wonder…
He turned again to the map. He had the precise co-ordinates of their ultimate destination, had circled the area on the chart in red. But the site wasn’t accessible by boat, and to get there they had to go via an initial destination, one that itself could only be reached in the Zodiac. They would hike inland from this location to reach their goal. If they continued their present course down the main stem, they would get to the first destination sometime this afternoon. Of course, they’d have to deal with some cursory resistance and most likely stay overnight, which meant they’d make a fresh start on foot in the morning. From there, the trek to the main site would take two days.
Cartana traced his finger along the map, running it from their current position to the circled area. He bit his lip. Though it wasn’t on the map, if the fork ahead led to where he thought it might—if his hunch was correct—then there was every chance they’d reach the circled location by nightfall, cutting two days from their journey.
It was a gamble. Making mistakes had repercussions. He bit his lip so hard it started to bleed.
The fork loomed. They were right upon it.
Shit.
“Turn here!” he cried, calling back to the driver in the wheelhouse. He swallowed hard, ran a sweaty hand through his dark, greasy hair. “Take the right fork.”
32
It was several hours later when Rebecca heard Ed emerge from the underbrush behind her. At that moment, she realised she was in the exact position he’d left her in earlier. She was surprised at how fast the time had flown.
Ed stepped beneath the blind and sat next to her. “I can’t stay long,” he said. “I brought you this. I thought you might be hungry.”
He passed her an MRE. Even though she’d packed food, she hadn’t had a break all day. “Thank you!” Rebecca said, famished. She tucked into it, noting he’d also brought one of the X40s. It was operating; she could hear it humming.
While she ate, Ed lifted the binoculars to gaze down at the pyramid.
After a time, her mouth full, she said, “You know, Ed, I’ve been thinking. You’re right about people coming here. They will, and it won’t be for the sideshow.” Rather than sympathetic to the concerns he’d expressed to her last night, she was excited, enthusiastic. Furiously chewing—as though she hadn’t eaten in days—she nodded in the direction of the web, and the pyramid at its heart. “The potential for science and industry… it’s mind-boggling. They’ll swarm over this.”
“Uh-huh.”
Rebecca washed the food down with water from her canteen before taking another huge bite. “Did you know the giant orb weaver’s silk is sixty times stronger than stainless steel? It’s also much lighter and can stretch almost half its length without breaking—you could tow a jumbo with a strand half the thickness of your little finger! It’s long been the view we might one day use spider silk as a building material: bullet-proof vests, aerospace components. Future spacecraft might be made of the stuff! The problem, however, is in harvesting the silk. Handling huge quantities of spiders isn’t workable. For one, they’d cannibalise each other. But this species is communal and produces incredibly strong silk in massive amounts. Hell, Ed, a discovery like this is going to make everything possible.”
Ed looked at her as though hoping she wouldn’t give herself indigestion. “You think that’s enough to cause them to come?” he said, snuffing a laugh. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Rebecca swallowed, took no more bites, and Ed smiled knowingly.
“What I was trying to show you yesterday,” he said. He nodded down the slope at the two huge moai standing like twin guards at attention. “It’s difficult to explain. I’m a little unsure myself.”
“You know we can’t go back down there, not after what happened.”
“I know.”
Still, Rebeca was intrigued. Observing the colony at this distance, up here in the blind, hadn’t been an issue—she’d felt none of the effects or anxieties she’d feared she might. But now she was seized by the same motivation that had gripped her following the dream last night; an overwhelming urge to confront herself and confirm she was still capable. “How many times have you been down there?” she asked. “Before the rest of us arrived?”
“Several, at least.”
Silence.
Ed looked at her. “If you want to, I’ll take you down and show you. It’ll be quick.”
“We shouldn’t,” Rebecca said, shaking her head.
She realised she’d picked up the X40.
“It’ll be quick,” Ed reiterated. “Trust me, this is something you’ve got to see.”
Moved by a force beyond her control and better judgement, Rebecca stood. Together, they exited the blind, and tentatively, Ed led her down the slope. Rebecca cradled the softly humming X40 to her breast.
They followed the same route as the day before, each with the quiet, watchful stride of one negotiating a minefield. All the while, in between keeping an eye on the path ahead of them and the trees all around them, Rebecca studied the web. She couldn’t see any workers.
They were halfway down when, despite their caution, Rebecca’s unease heightened.
This is crazy. Turn back.
As if sensing her doubts, Ed took her hand and squeezed it. Rebecca allowed herself to be towed. A moment later, they drew up in front of the left-hand moai.
“This is what I was trying to show you,” Ed said, his voice low. They were in the same spot they’d been standing just prior to the attack on Enrique. In Ed’s right hand was the stone disc, which he’d already unwrapped.
There was no hint of the previous day’s fanfare. Carefully rotating the disc, Ed lined it up with the round indentation that was set into the middle of the moai’s broad chest.
Then, as Rebecca watched, he clicked it snugly into place…
• • •
…nothing.
Seconds passed. Rebecca looked at Ed, confused, when from deep within the earth—right under their feet—a low growl rose like a roll of thunder. It built in intensity, and suddenly the ground beneath them began to vibrate as though gripped by a mild earthquake. The tremor grew in power and Rebecca had to concentrate on keeping her balance.
“That’s not all,” Ed said above the rumble as she turned to him incredulously. He nodded up at the moai. “Watch.”
By now, the statue, too, had begun to quiver, and there was a sound like crackling electricity all around them. The quality of the air itself seemed to change, and the hairs on Rebecca’s arms and the back of her neck stood on end. But what happened next caused her jaw to drop, and she wondered if she was seeing things.
Something was happening to the statue.
It had begun to…
…shimmer…
No, I’m imagining it, Rebecca thought. It can’t be…
And then, incredibly, as if to rebuke any doubts she might still have entertained, the giant moai heaved upwards…
Rising off the ground.
No way…
“The effect is even greater when the sun isn’t blocked by clouds,” Ed told her above the rumbling.
Rebecca couldn’t believe her eyes. The moai appeared to be floating—only by an inch or two, if that—but it also seemed different, somehow detached or removed… untethered. She wondered what that meant. Untethered from what, exactly? She had an urge to stretch out and touch it, but sensed she wouldn’t be able to… reach it?
“What the hell is this?” she said.
Ed removed the disc. It came out reluctantly, as though caught in a vacuum. As it did, the shaking incrementally decreased, and the statue shimmered faster, flickering. Then the pressure of the air shifted, popped, and suddenly the crackling sound was no more, and the statue was miraculously back in place… had, she thought, returned, or reattached.
Rebecca looked at him, eyes wide, stunned.
Ed glanced at the web before taking her by the hand again. “Come on.” He led her back up the slope, speaking as they went. “I don’t know what it is exactly,” he whispered. He didn’t look back. “But I think you just witnessed some kind of repulsive energy, something within the Earth that interacts with the disc and the statue.”
“Repulsive energy?”
Ed turned, looked her squarely in the eye. “Gravitational repulsion,” he said simply. “Antigravity.”
33
Rebecca had to move fast to keep up with Ed, mindful of noise. She glanced over her shoulder. It didn’t appear the colony had been roused, or that they were being pursued.
Only when they had reached the blind did Ed stop. He cast an eye along their route. Seemingly satisfied they’d gotten away undetected, he turned to her, the stone disc back in his pocket. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, a little breathless. “And I agree. The concept sounds way out. But I’ve done some digging, and it’s not as far-fetched as you think.”
Rebecca turned from the web. “Antigravity. UFO stuff, right? Next you’ll be telling m
e aliens built the pyramid.”
Ed hesitated. “No, not quite. But you saw for yourself, right?”
That much was true.
Ed’s eyes lit up. “Look, there’re some strange ideas out there, but the subject’s not the reserve of crackpots and cultists; it’s the subject of science. The idea that gravity and its effects can be reduced through technology is nothing new. I mean, both the US and Britain are involved in antigravity research. NASA and Boeing have programs. Canada, France, Japan, China, Russia—they’re all investigating this. Big money is being thrown around.”
Rebecca felt oddly removed, but he had her attention. “Go on.”
“But what if there was a naturally occurring force in opposition to gravity, undiscovered by science? Einstein theorised the four natural forces—strong and weak nuclear, electromagnetic, gravitational—might be explained as part of the one fundamental, interconnected force. This is the Unified Field Theory, a kind of ‘theory of everything’ to define all aspects of the universe within one framework. He couldn’t prove it, but what if he was on to something? What if all the known forces are connected, and within this framework, there are other unknown forces, immeasurable by today’s standards? What if there is a yin to gravity’s yang?”
Rebecca pursed her lips. “I don’t know…”
“We know the universe is expanding at an accelerated rate. Something is pushing the galaxies away from each other. Science suggests there’s an inherent force in the universe, a form of antigravity, originating in space, responsible for this expansion. It’s called ‘Dark Energy’.”
“I don’t know…”
“Okay, well how about this?” Ed was electrified, humming along now. “You’re familiar with my theory about the city, right? That it was built by an ancient people able to harness the power of the sun. What if this power, whatever it is, gave the T’aevans the ability to move huge objects? Look at the city. Where did all the stone come from? How did they move it through such thick vegetation?”
