by Greig Beck
“That thing was there the whole time, watching. And we didn’t even see it,” Angela said softly and then whipped her head one way and then the other. “Are there any more?”
The others quickly looked about.
“It was so well-camouflaged, it was nearly invisible,” Jane said. “I’ve never seen anything do that—even chameleons.”
“Like you said, plant-eaters attract meat-eaters. We just saw one,” Michael said. “Astounding.”
“We need to go back, get the hell out of here,” David said. “That monster was easily big enough to have killed one of us.”
“Not yet. This is amazing, stupendous. Don’t you see? They’ll be talking about what we learn here for generations to come.” Michael crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees. “But I definitely think we do need those spears for protection.”
Everyone just stared. Michael pressed his hands together. “Humor me, just another hour or two.”
Angela pushed her hair back. “Jesus, Michael.”
He looked around and then motioned with his head. “That looks like an animal trail we can follow—make it easier for us to travel.”
“Not a chance,” Jane scoffed. “That big thing was staked out near a trail. That’s what predators do. It knew that the small animals would come along it, and all it had to do was wait. If we’re going to continue on, and only just a little more…” her eyes bored into him, “…then we grab some spears, right here and now. And stay off trails.”
“Okay, okay.” He smiled, and then mouthed, thank you, at Jane.
The group moved in under one of the banyan trees. Above them, the foliage had come alive again, obviously now that the threat of death had moved on. They each found or cut a six-foot spear for themselves, most not so straight, but at least they put a good point on their ends.
Michael hefted his spear. “Are we ready?”
Andy was looking up into the higher branches where things raced back and forth. “So, not birds after all.”
They followed his gaze and saw that the bird things were the size of eagles, but their wings were stiff and membranous. Also, many were congregating around a structure that looked like a 10-foot papery ovoid, with a hole in the bottom. They landed on it, clung, and then walked in the jerky movement of wasps to disappear up inside it.
“Chicken’s off the menu,” David said.
“They’re like big paper wasps,” Angela said. “How could this be? How did these things get so big? I mean, they’re all freaking bugs, right?”
“So far.” Jane shook her head. “In fact, no. Remember those sprats we ate? They were real fish.” She looked up. “It just seems that the arthropods might be the dominant species here.”
“How could that happen?” David asked. “I know from our primordial past that insects grew big, but they never got this big.”
“I have a theory,” Jane said. “Two, actually.” She half-smiled. “Theory one, look at your faces.”
Everyone turned to each other and then back to her.
“That’s not sunburn on your cheeks, but it is a type of burn. UV solar radiation burns our skin, but we have melanin cells evolved to try and cope with that. There’s no sun down here, but a lot of other types of radiation. The big one is the primordial heat left over from the formation of the Earth and also the heat from the decay of deep radioactive elements.” She looked at Michael. “Remember Katya’s cancers? I think I now know how she got them.”
“What? We could get cancer down here?” Angela’s eyes were wide. “We need to get under cover like right now.”
“So you’re saying that the constant heightened radiation has maybe mutated the creatures?” David added. “Some mutations are beneficial, but with radiation, most are destructive.”
“What’s your other theory?” Michael asked.
“Well, this is a long shot. But around 400 million years ago when amphibians first came out of the water, they were in a race. The arthropods were also evolving to colonize the land. At that time, the amphibians only won because they were quicker at developing efficient lungs, and also creating egg cases that didn’t need to be laid in water. But it was close.”
She tilted her head. “The result was, the amphibians grew big, fast, and pushed the arthropods back to the water for a few more million years. Bearing in mind, the sea scorpions were nearly 10 feet long by then. The amphibians won, and eventually became us.”
“You think down here maybe the amphibians didn’t win, but the arthropods did? So this could be Earth’s plan-B?” Andy asked.
“It’s a theory,” Jane replied.
“It’s fascinating, is what it is,” Michael said. “Do you see how important this is? It’s like we’ve just dropped onto an alien planet. We are true explorers.”
“True explorers?” Jane gritted her teeth for a moment. “Remind me again, how many of Katya’s team survived?”
“We’ll learn from their mistakes.” Michael held up a hand flat. “Promise.”
“What now?” David asked.
“We head in.” Michael quickly looked to Jane. “Like you said, just a little further. At a minimum, we need to look for supplies before we head back up. Remember, it’ll take us a long time to ascend to the surface. We can’t do that on empty stomachs and little water.”
“He’s right. Full ascending in those caves, we’ll burn up too much energy. And there aren’t enough fish in that stream to feed all four of us for two weeks,” David accepted.
“So, you’re okay with bugs then?” Andy raised his eyebrows.
“Only if we can find one that tastes like chicken,” David responded.
Michael chose a place to enter the jungle and the group followed him in. The group moved slowly, with Michael constantly holding up a hand for them to freeze, only to wave them on again an instant later. From time to time, he would reach out to touch a fern frond or tree trunk, as if testing its texture.
To Jane, the plants looked the same as surface species but different. As soon as she thought she recognized something, it would then reveal as having some leaf design, fruit, or shape that changed her mind.
She couldn’t decide if they were primitive versions of things that now existed on the surface, or something else entirely. But the one thing that set most of the plants apart was their size—everything was damn huge.
Jane inhaled the tang of some sort of citric resin, and slowed to examine something like a long, emerald-green worm bunched up on a slender branch.
As she watched, eye buds pricked up like on a snail, and it regarded her for a moment before the thing retracted in on itself, bunching up even more, and then springing to launch itself from the branch it was on to dart 10 feet across the path to land on another branch, where it immediately slithered higher into the canopy.
“Spring worm,” she named it, softly.
After an hour, they had only moved through a few hundred yards, and already they were covered in scratches, welts, and burns from acidic sap.
“This is impossible,” Angela said.
“Yeah, this is costing us a lot of energy,” David said. “I’m exhausted already.”
“Michael, we need to rethink this,” Jane called softly.
“Keep going. I see something up ahead,” Michael replied without turning.
“Something good, I hope,” Andy said under his breath.
In another 10 minutes of squeezing, scratching, and muscling through the dense foliage, Michael pushed through a curtain of hanging vines at the edge of a small clearing.
“Thought so.” He grinned.
The group followed but flattened along the line of jungle and didn’t step out into the open. However, just a few dozen feet ahead was a river—shallow but meandering slowly through the jungle on its way to what might be the interior.
Lace-winged creatures the size of robins bobbed and darted over the top of the red-hued water, the fusion light from above shimmering on their diaphanous wings, as the river babbled and jumped over
small round stones at its edges.
Michael turned and held an arm out. “You wanted a highway into the jungle, you’ve got one.”
Angela shook her head. “No way. We’ve seen what lives in the water.”
“Looks pretty shallow, I think.” Andy craned forward. “Too shallow for anything of size to live in.”
Angela squinted at the river and brooded, not conceding just yet. Andy looked up along the waterway until it vanished between some trees.
“Why is it traveling away from the ocean?” David asked.
Michael shrugged. “Maybe the land is below sea level further in. Or maybe there’s another body of water in there.”
“Makes sense. So, how do we travel?” David asked, and then his brows shot up. “Please don’t say swim or wade.”
“Nope,” Michael replied. “I’ve been seeing a lot of these weird trees about. They feel like cork.” He walked toward a towering trunk that just had a few fronds right at its tip. He took out his knife and slid it down along its length, cutting off a foot-long piece of the bark.
“It seems dry, like rolled paper.” He squeezed the material for a moment and then handed it to Andy. The young caver bent it and rubbed a thumb against it.
“It’s so light, almost like cork.” He looked up. “You mean we make a raft?”
“Yep.” Michael grinned. “We travel Robinson Crusoe style.”
Jane took the shard from Andy and flexed it in her hands. She nodded. “Might work. And we already have rope to lash them together.”
“That’s the spirit.” Michael clapped his hands once. He turned back to the jungle. “I think we’ll only need about four of the big ones. It cuts easy, and once we lash them together, they’ll have more strength and should hold all of us.”
Michael turned to Jane. “That sound okay?”
“Just remember, we only give it another few more hours before we turn back.” She looked up. “Wish there was nightfall. But as there isn’t and we’ll be more exposed, I suggest we make some sort of hats to keep the sunli… I mean, the core-light… off us.”
“Just one thing—the raft building time doesn’t count,” Michael chuckled. “Okay, we better get to it.” Michael glanced back at the thick foliage. “David, Angela, and I will cut down these tree trunks. Andy and Jane find something that’ll act like a canopy and also as a light shade.” He went to turn away but paused. “And one more thing—everyone, keep your eyes open.”
They set to it, and in a few hours had cut through the soft pulpy wood of the trees and cut them to length. Cross-stays were added from the off cuts, and all were lashed together with the climbing ropes.
Andy and Jane had used more of the stiff branches to create a framework for some huge fronds to go over. And quicker than any of them expected, they had a 20-foot raft that seemed strong, light, and they hoped, buoyant.
Andy held up a hand. “I dub thee, the SS Verne.”
“And long may she sail.” David saluted. “Or at least float,” he added with a grin.
Michael wiped a forearm across his wet brow and then stood with his hands on his hips. “Well, looks functional. Let’s see if it does what it’s supposed to.”
“Wait, can we take a rest break for a while?” Angela pleaded.
“Why?” Andy asked. “Soon we’ll be traveling languidly down a river on a raft, spearing fish, and drinking cool drafts of clear river water. We’ll get plenty of rest, as we can’t do anything else but sit or lay down.”
She smiled. “Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.”
“We’ll be using our spears to push ourselves along, but we can do that in shifts. Let’s get the raft in the water.” Michael crouched and grabbed one end.
Together, they dragged the raft to the small river and succeeded in pushing it onto the water. Michael held on, and to his delight, it sat high and buoyant on the surface.
“Jump on, one at a time.”
They carefully clambered aboard, with Michael last. The raft bobbed and shook until they each found a place that balanced the load, and then it settled perfectly on the water.
“Ready?” Michael used his spear to push off from the bank. “Heave ho.”
Michael and David took to each side and pushed again. They used their spears to pole slowly down the river and after a while, they just let the gentle current draw them along with only a shove now and then to keep the raft in the middle of the shallow stream.
The canopy that Andy and Jane had constructed to fit on the raft was only high enough to crouch or lay under and they took turns getting some rest. Jane had also fashioned some broad-brimmed headwear from stiff fronds to keep the sun off their faces and necks.
The hours rolled by and they caught sight of numerous denizens of the hidden world coming down to drink. If the group stayed low and silent, the creatures didn’t seem to be bothered by them, or tried bothering them back. Perhaps their scent was so alien the beasts didn’t recognize them as being food or a threat.
It was David who spotted the first fish darting across the river bottom, and together they lifted their spears and waited. Luckily for them, the fish seemed to like trying to shelter beneath the raft, and Andy stabbed down hard and hauled a three-foot specimen onto the raft top.
“Looks like even more normal creatures have evolved down here,” David said. “I didn’t really relish the idea of dining on giant bugs…yet.”
They quickly pulled the skin from the fish, cut it into strips, and wolfed it down.
“Delicious,” Jane announced.
After a while, the fish was gone save for the head, backbone, and tail.
“Do you want to use it as bait?” Andy asked.
Michael looked at it for a while and then shook his head. “Nah, in the heat, fish goes rank really quick. I don’t want anything smelling like carrion close to us. Best dump it over the side.”
“You got it.” Andy slid the fish carcass over the raft edge, where it spiraled down the few feet to the bottom in a cloud of blood.
Jane turned to watch it as the raft sailed on and she saw that a few smaller fish came to investigate the body before something large swooshed across and took it whole.
“Whoa.” She sat back.
“What is it?” Michael turned.
“Something just ate the fish body. All of it,” she replied.
Michael looked over the water. “Oh well, as long as it sticks to eating fish and not bothering us, I say we ignore it.”
They drifted on, and Jane found it disconcerting that the light and the shadows never moved. There was no sunup, no sundown, or the cool blessing of twilight. Just an eternal light, like a lamp left on in a room night and day.
“Check that out.” David pointed to the shoreline.
There was a patch of the jungle that had been pressed flat. It was about 50 feet wide, and they could see that it led from the depths of the jungle all the way to the water’s edge.
“Something came down to drink. Something freaking big.” David turned to Michael.
“Blue whale. Big,” Andy added.
Angela exhaled. “You know, in this place, I think we’re the bugs.”
“I’d like to see it…from a distance,” Andy chuckled. “Plenty of distance.”
“Me too,” said Michael. He turned. “Should we?”
Jane scowled, and he shook his head.
“Just kidding.” He winked at Andy and mouthed, No, I’m not.
“I saw that,” Jane shot back.
The group continued to meander down the river and marveled at a large, open field of strange purple grasses that were being mown down by a herd of animals the size of hippos but had lustrous, hard bodies, and six stump-like legs. Their mouths lowered and jaws opened, but inside there were no teeth, instead having something like a shredder that sawed at the grass, and then small feeder arms at its edges grabbed the tufts and pulled the food inside.
In the longer grasses at the edge, they spotted two lethal-looking creatures that watched with a
predator’s intensity. They had long, muscular legs, two out back and two out front, and their bodies were coiled and ready. Multiple front-facing eyes crowded wolf-like faces as they watched the herd, with special attention being given to one of the smaller creatures that was wandering just a few extra paces from the main group.
“It’s like watching a nature documentary about Africa,” Angela said.
“What did you call it, Jane? Concurr…?” Andy asked.
“Concurrent evolution,” Jane replied, keeping her eyes on the scene. “It seems nature likes a certain model and repeats it with whatever raw materials it can find.”
“New Zealand,” David said softly and turned. “It was only inhabited about 1,200 years ago by the Maoris. When they arrived, they found all the biological niches filled by birds—the huge grass-eaters, the carnivores, giant raptors—eagles—big enough to carry off a full-grown man.”
“And so we think down here it’s the insects?” Andy asked.
“We haven’t seen everything yet.” Michael turned. “Making a call on that now would be like venturing to the Amazon and making a judgment call based on traveling up the first river—we’d think the land was filled with snakes, alligators, and rainbow-colored parrots.”
“You mean it isn’t?” Angela asked.
Michael laughed. “No. This is far stranger, but you must admit, it’s pretty cool.”
They glided onward, and the river broadened. In the thick foliage on either side of them, the branches were alive with movement, but rarely was anything seen. From time to time, a huge tree limb would bend down toward them as if something of considerable weight moved to the thinner end to get a better look at them.
Andy and David had their spears cocked and Michael had his bolt gun in his hand, but nothing ever emerged. Or perhaps the camouflage was so good, they just couldn’t see it.
A half hour later, Andy had speared another fish, this one flatter and broader, and they set about pulling the skin from it and slicing it up again. The meat was a little muddy-tasting on this species but still nourishing and it revitalized them considerably.
This fish being bigger meant it bled out all over the raft.
Michael scowled. “Andy, will you wash that blood off the raft? We look like a floating abattoir.”
