But all idols, especially the basic cable variety, eventually topple, and this season his ratings had plummeted like a meteorite. Looking out at the majestic view he pondered the eternal question, Where did it all go wrong?
After a thirty-second pity party, he asked Catalina, “Do I look okay?”
Catalina said, “Give me a second,” and went back to gossiping with the local farmers who’d just sold him some meteorite fragments.
Micah took the delay in stride. Catalina usually seemed more interested in chatting up his vendors than doing her myriad of jobs. But since she was technically an intern, he couldn’t complain. Last season, he’d traveled with a documentary cameraman, a sound recordist, and even a makeup artist. But now, thanks to declining ratings, his entire staff consisted of a single grad student acting as camera person, research assistant and general fixer. On the plus side, Catalina was competent with a camera, along with being fluent in Portuguese and Spanish—pretty much all you could ask for from an intern getting a two-hundred-dollar-a-week stipend, plus meals.
Micah used the time to study the meteorite sample he’d just paid twenty dollars for. His truncated shooting schedule didn’t allow any time for actual exploration or discoveries, so now he just bought whatever local farmers plowed up in their fields. At least this sample was interesting. Noting the gleaming slivers embedded in it, he mentally rehearsed his spiel. Notice the minute traces of diamond in this piece. Could this be a fragment of some intelligently engineered probe, utilizing diamonds, one of the universe’s hardest substances, as a protective shell? Blah, blah, wild speculation, yada, yada.
Catalina was politely shooing away the farmers, who seemed intent on hanging around. Micah couldn’t blame them. His intern was a striking woman of what he guesstimated as mixed Brazilian and African heritage—hitting a genetic home run on both sides. She was tall, clearly athletic, but perhaps her most attractive feature was an unwavering confidence, landing just short of arrogance. In a man it might be called swagger. She was definitely the kind of woman he was drawn to, but making advances on an intern would be the final leap into becoming a full-on television sleaze.
Catalina had just gotten rid of the farmers when something caught her eye. She yelled, “Oh shit, Faye! Micah, get over here!”
Snapping out of his inner monologue, Micah rushed over. “What’s wrong?”
His nine-year-old daughter, Faye, was perched on a camp stool. With her flowing blonde hair and sweet face she could have modeled for an American Girl doll, except those dolls didn’t have a Goliath beetle the size of a grapefruit clamped to their forearm.
Catalina said, “Uh, honey, I don’t think you should be playing with that.”
Faye giggled and said, “Why? Goliaths don’t bite,” then went back to petting the insect like a puppy.
Catalina asked Micah, “So you’re cool with this?”
“Uh, only sort of.” Micah knelt down next to his daughter and explained, “Faye, you still have to be careful, ’cause those mandibles can crush a walnut.”
Faye said, “I know, they’re really strong,” then held her arm up to Catalina, proudly displaying the beetle. “Did you know they can lift eight hundred times their own weight?”
Catalina said, “Pretty cool. Maybe I can get her to lug this equipment.”
“This one’s a boy, you can tell by its horns.”
Micah smiled, amazed at his daughter’s encyclopedic knowledge of Amazon wildlife. Thanks to a bitter divorce he only got to spend two months a year with her, and he liked to think she’d learned it all to impress him.
He came up with a diplomatic solution. “Tell you what, honey, why don’t we use him in the shot?” He looked to Catalina. “It’ll be free production value.”
“Our favorite kind.”
Micah glanced over at Santos, their new bodyguard and driver. The six-and-a-half-foot Brazilian was slouched against the nearby Range Rover, watching disinterestedly.
Micah said, “Hey Santos, if you see her grabbing any more insects could you kinda give me a shout?”
“Not a babysitter,” was his monotone response.
Despite his arctic demeanor, Santos was all you could want in a bodyguard—namely, a giant with a body that looked like it was made out of rebar. He was equally intimidating above the neck, with a soup bowl haircut framing a face like one of those Easter Island stone heads, except less expressive.
Micah coaxed the beetle from Faye’s arm onto his then placed the meteorite sample on the ground and rested the beetle on top of it.
“Okay, let’s get this done and head back to the lodge.”
Catalina framed up a shot and said, “Rolling.”
Micah knelt down, making a point of lifting the beetle toward camera, and said, “After days of hiking through these mountains, following accounts from local tribes, we’ve uncovered the meteorite site. But I suspect this celestial object broke up before impact, spreading fragments like this across the mountainside.” He set the beetle aside and lifted the sample. “One can clearly see the traces of diamond in this fragment, indicating a possible intelligent construction. Could this be a fragment of an intelligently engineered probe, using diamonds, one of the universe’s hardest substances, as protective armor? In the ancient past could these alien engineers have visited our world? These, my friends, are the eternal questions we’re seeking the answers to.” Micah looked into the lens with his best scholarly contemplative look then drew his hand across his throat. “Cut. I think we’ve got everything.”
Catalina lowered the camera and asked, “What about the ‘days of hiking through the mountains’? Don’t we have to shoot that stuff?”
“There’s a bunch of footage of me hiking through mountains from last season that didn’t get used, so we’ll just cut that in. I’m even wearing the same shirt.”
“Whatever you say, boss. But it kinda feels like we’re phoning this episode in.”
Micah shrugged. “They might not even air it anyway.”
“Really? Are you officially canceled?”
“Cancelation would be too merciful. OEN still has a year on my contract, so they’ll just keep slashing the budget until I can’t breathe. They’ve already given my time slot to a guy who lets bullet ants and scorpions sting him. I mean, how do you compete with a weekly suicide attempt?”
“Sorry to hear that, boss.” Picking up a camera case, she added, “Look on the bright side, maybe a murder hornet will kill the new guy and you’ll get your time slot back.”
“I love your optimism.” Micah saw Faye picking up the beetle again. “Honey, why don’t you just leave him be?”
With a deep sigh, Faye asked, “Can’t we take him with us?”
“Do you think he really wants to live in a cage?”
Faye begrudgingly said, “No,” and set him down with all the faux drama a nine-year-old girl could muster.
“Good girl.”
Catalina said, “Maybe you should put her in the show, she’s a natural.”
In a gruff tone, Micah replied, “The network keeps saying the same thing, but there’s no way I’m dragging her into child star oblivion. In a couple years she’d wind up robbing a liquor store with Honey Boo-Boo.”
Catalina was taken aback, and he realized his answer had been sharper than intended.
“Sorry about that, Catalina, it’s kind of a sore point.”
His three-year television whirlwind had already cost him time with Faye; priceless years he’d never get back. There was no way he was going to place his daughter on the sacrificial altar of ratings.
Putting his arm around Faye, Micah said, “How about we head back to the lodge and have dinner? If I get any hungrier I might just eat your new pet.”
“Yuck.”
“Yuck? Your grandpa taught me how to roast ’em up. Their shell’s like a built-in bowl. Tastes like chicken.”
“That’s super gross.”
“Well, when you grow up in the jungle like I did, you learn to eat w
hat’s around.”
Faye said, “I’d rather become a vegetarian,” and trotted over to the Range Rover.
Santos watched Catalina lug the cases over, making no effort to help.
“Don’t trouble yourself, big guy,” Catalina said, shoving the case into the rear compartment. “I’ve got it.”
Santos just grunted.
Micah gazed out at the rainforest again, wondering where it all went so wrong. Once he’d been a rising star in the field of planetary geology, until his theories about ancient aliens reduced him to a laughing stock among the scientific community. But thanks to some talk show appearances and his photogenic looks he’d been wooed into reality television. For three years he’d traveled the globe on OEN’s dime, certain that he’d uncover evidence to prove his discredited theories. But he’d found nothing, and his media meal ticket was slipping away. He’d officially run out of rope.
He muttered, “Maybe if I start drinking now, I can get on one of those celebrity rehab shows.”
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that, boss.”
Micah had been too lost in thought to notice Catalina standing behind him. “Uh, nothing. Let’s head back to the lodge.”
#
The Range Rover bounced down an unpaved road threading through the pitch-black rainforest. Santos was at the wheel, his soulless eyes locked on the road. Catalina slouched in the passenger seat trying to nod off, but her efforts were thwarted by the crater-sized potholes. Micah and Faye huddled in the backseat with a flashlight, studying the meteorite samples he’d bought.
Faye asked, “Did you and Grandpa really eat bugs when you were a kid?”
Micah said, “Once in a while, mostly so I’d know how to survive in the jungle. But sometimes we just ate them to be polite. In Vietnam, scorpions were the local delicacy, so if we wanted the locals to help us find all the rare plants and rocks we had to partake. You getting hungry yet?”
Faye giggled. “Yeah, but not for scorpions.”
“I don’t think the lodge is serving those.” That reminded Micah of something. “Hey Catalina, I need you to get some shots of the eco lodge before we leave tomorrow. Make sure you shoot the sign.”
“More product placement?”
“It’s the backbone of poverty row television.” He went back to studying the fragments. “These are actually pretty interesting.”
Peering over his shoulder, Faye asked, “Can I look?”
“Sure.” Micah handed her the magnifying glass. “If you look close you can see the flecks of diamond.”
Straining to see, Faye asked, “Does that make it valuable?”
“Only to science. Some people think the diamonds are caused by carbon being super compressed during impact.”
“I bet that’s not what you think.”
“Right as usual. I think they’re fragments of something larger that came here with the diamonds already part of it.”
“Came from where?”
“Well, that’s kind of the mystery.”
“Are there spacemen? Mom says you believe in spacemen.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet she says a lot of things.” Micah’s ex-wife was a university professor and staunch academic who called Micah’s theories, “The worst kind of pseudo-science.” She’d even brought it up during their custody hearing.
Faye said, “Now that you’re done shooting can we go look for the pink river dolphins?”
“We can try, but they’re really rare.”
“Please?”
The elusive pink river dolphins, technically known as botos, had become Faye’s latest obsession, running a close second to monkeys.
“Okay, I promise we’ll find some.” Micah noticed headlights trailing behind them. “That’s weird, an unpaved road’s not usually where you run into other people.”
Catalina said, “We’ve got taillights in front too.” She turned to Santos. “Should we be worried?”
Santos shook his head then pulled a folded sheet of paper from under his vest. He passed it back to Micah and said, “I need you to read this.”
Micah asked, “What is it?”
“Read it.”
He did and felt his blood run cold.
The neatly typed note read, “Dr. Clark, you are being abducted. I recommend you come along quietly to avoid upsetting your daughter. If you resist we will take you by force, potentially endangering the little girl. Please pass this note to your associate and advise her to comply. I assure you that nobody will be harmed.”
Micah’s fingers tightened around the paper.
Faye asked, “What’s wrong, Dad?”
Pasting a smile on his face, Micah said, “Nothing, honey.” Then he leaned forward, passing the note to Catalina and whispering, “Read this, but don’t react.”
She read it, and Micah was relieved to see how calmly she took being kidnapped.
Catalina handed the paper back to Santos, asking, “Is this your doing?”
Santos replied, “No,” without taking his eyes off the unpaved road.
Micah put his arm around Faye, cheerfully informing her, “Honey, we’re not going to the hotel.”
“Why?”
“Well, we’re going on a little trip.”
“Where?”
“It’s going to be a surprise.”
Catalina muttered, “No shit.”
#
They drove in silence for the next forty minutes. Luckily, Faye’s backpack contained an Android tablet loaded with episodes of Awesome Animals. The show kept her from picking up on the tension.
Micah leaned forward, whispering to Catalina, “Don’t worry; I’ve been kidnapped twice and made it out safe and sound both times. Hell, it turned out to be the season two cliffhanger.”
She asked, “But were you really kidnapped or was it all BS?”
“Nope, it was genuine. Once in Sudan and another time in Indonesia.”
Santos said, “Stop whispering,” his voice still monotone.
Catalina noticed how Santos’s English had miraculously improved, with barely a trace of an accent. The kind of English that was only taught at professional language schools or in the military—she was betting on the latter.
Santos slipped a satellite phone out of his vest and pressed a pre-programmed number. In Portuguese he said, “Ten minutes out,” and hung up.
Catalina said, “Wow, Santa brought somebody a fancy phone.”
“No talking.”
The three vehicles turned down a steep, muddy incline, putting their four-wheel drives to the test.
Catalina watched Santos expertly use a combination of downshifting and clutch, keeping the vehicle glued to the muddy path.
Definitely military, she thought.
The path ended at the bank of a wide tributary—one of a thousand smaller offshoots of the mighty Amazon.
Micah said, “I think this is Rio Curicuriari.”
Santos said, “No talking.”
The moment they stopped, work lights came on, revealing a dilapidated boat house connected to a sagging log dock. A gleaming De Havilland Beaver, single-engine floatplane, was moored at the end of the pier.
Santos said, “You two in the backseat, out.”
Micah slipped Faye’s headphones off and told her, “It’s time to go, honey.”
Faye put her tablet away, asking, “Are we there?”
“Not yet. I think we’re taking a plane ride first … aren’t we?”
Santos nodded.
Micah grabbed Faye’s backpack and helped her out. He was swept away for a moment by the intoxicating sensory medley of the Amazon. The smell of decaying vegetation mixed with the chorus of insects and frogs always took him back to his childhood, accompanying his parents on their geological and botanical expeditions.
Once they were out, Santos told Catalina, “Get out and walk directly to the plane.”
She said, “You would have made a marvelous tour guide.”
Santos’s hand shot out, clamping onto her wrist like a v
ice. “Remember something, I was hired to fetch him and the little girl. You’re optional, so don’t get smart.”
Trying to pull away, Catalina said, “You’re hurting me.”
Santos released her wrist. “When I want to hurt you, you’ll know it.”
Rubbing her arm, she said, “Why Mr. Santos, your English has certainly improved,” and hopped out before he could react.
Men spilled out of the lead and follow vehicles, forming a loose cordon around the trio, herding them towards the plane. Santos walked several paces behind.
Micah caught a glimpse of the handguns stuffed in the waists of the men’s pants. Tapping Faye’s shoulder, he pointed to the plane. “Pretty cool plane, right?” It diverted her attention from the armed men.
Santos knelt down to Faye and, with an out of character smile, asked, “Faye, remember when you told me you liked Pepperidge Farm cookies?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, I made sure they have some on the plane for you.”
The little girl’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Yup, they’re waiting for you.”
“Come on, Dad, there are cookies,” Faye yelled, almost dragging him down the pier.
As Catalina walked past Santos, she asked, “Do I get cookies too?”
“Watch it, cadela, people disappear out here all the time.”
They climbed into the six-passenger plane. Once they were seated, Santos doled out bottled water along with the promised cookies. He sat down across from them, his shoulders taking up two seats.
Micah asked him, “Not to be difficult, but is there any chance we’ll see our luggage again? It’s all at the hotel.”
“It’s already been loaded into the cargo compartment. You checked out of the eco lodge this morning, leaving a generous tip. So don’t expect them to call in a missing persons report. You even posted a Yelp review.”
“Five stars I hope.”
Faye offered one of the cookies to Catalina.
Micah watched her sniff it then lick the edge before biting into it. He thought, She seems pretty savvy for someone on her first kidnapping.
Micah encouraged Faye to put on her headphones, allowing the adults to speak freely.
Primeval Waters Page 2
