Neanderthal: Amazon.co.uk: Forsythe, Ron: 9798393554262: Books
The proposal had been irresistible. Pinosaro was offering me the opportunity to do what I loved best – to explore places that had never been seen before. There was nothing I liked better. I focussed on that. I deployed the common excuse that if not me then it would be somebody else. Pinosaro was not about to be deflected from his great scheme.
The other thing about this project that angered me was that Pinosaro insisted that I would be accompanied by two unknown companions who he assured me were highly capable local men who were conversant with the jungle and aware of its dangers. According to him they would be valuable in this terrain.
I had no qualms about using local expertise but I liked to put together my own team. When you were out there confronting the sort of dangers you were bound to encounter in such remote places you had to know who you could trust and what they were capable of. But it seemed this was not negotiable. If I wanted the job I had to accept the terms. So I found myself teamed up with two men I had never met before and had little time to get to know. I had to trust to fate. That had not filled me with confidence.
I was only introduced to my two companions just before we were due to leave and we were in a whirl of activity so there was little time to talk. It was all a bit of a rush job. We had just three days in which to make detailed plans and gather the requirements for our trip – hardly any time for such an undertaking. Luckily, I had the experience and knew what I would need.
The two men – Enzo Silva and Vitor Ruiz – were Brazilian nationals, brought up in the rainforest and supposedly adept at trekking and dealing with the type of dangers we were certain to encounter.
I had to admit that they looked the part. I was impressed with their physique and the capabilities they displayed right from the start. Despite my reservations I could see that they were going to be an asset while trekking through the type of terrain we were going to encounter. They were tough, strong and resourceful but, on the downside, I found them surly and not greatly friendly. I would far rather have had my own team, but took a pragmatic view; they seemed capable and it was the only way I could get the opportunity to embark on this venture. I had to put up with it.
I was in no doubt as to the real reason they were there. I knew their appointment, good as they might well be, was more of a political choice. They were there to make sure I kept in line. That was obvious. Pinosaro was using this expedition as a publicity stunt. He wanted to splash it across the media so everyone could see the grandiose operation that he was sponsoring. To that effect we were given the full media treatment and I had to perform before a hundred cameras. Not that I minded that too much. It was the price you paid and I was used to it. I did not find the media too much of a hardship.
But those two guys worried me. They seemed arrogant. That did not bode well. Arrogance does not make for good teamwork. It created friction. I weighed them up straight away and saw that the only way this was going to work was to have a hierarchy. If we could not be a team of equals one of us needed to be the boss.
I felt I needed to impress upon them just who was in charge of the operation. I laid out the plans, told them precisely what I required and established the protocols. I made it quite clear what their roles were; they were the support crew – I was in charge.
They seemed to accept things without argument but I had the distinct impression that the acceptance was skin deep; they were merely tolerating me. As far as they were concerned, I could play whatever role I wanted. They would go along with it – just as long as it suited them.
So it was, after all the hoo-ha of preparation, that I found myself, along with my taciturn companions, being deposited on a beach in a clearing on a tributary of the Putamayo River. It was a small river that took us into the densest forest on the planet; an area that no man had ever set foot in. That tributary was the only way in to the designated area. There were no clearings and the rapids, weed islands and logs made it impossible for amphibious craft to land. The place was as inaccessible as a place could be.
Our task was to head down that tributary, make our way into the dense forest, and explore the area, chart it and assess how a section of Pinosaro’s highway could be laid through this unknown expanse of virgin forest. While we did that we were meant to be noting any other possible commercial opportunities – oil, minerals or hardwood trees.
I had previously carried out such surveying work so I knew how to go about it.
In truth I had little hope of coming up with anything useful to Pinosaro in terms of laying that damn highway, and I do not really believe he cared one way or another, but at least I would get to explore an area of the planet where no man had ever been, not even indigenous tribes. For some reason the native Brazilians had put a taboo on the whole region. None of them ever ventured in. The rumour was that it was inhabited by evil spirits. But I was a 21st century man. I did not believe in evil spirits. The idea of getting into that area filled me with elation even if the whole venture was nothing more than a token gesture for Pinosaro’s crazy scheme. Indeed, it made me happy to think that it would come to nothing. I was relying on that. So I was in a good mood on that count.
Or at least I had been – right up until the moment we arrived on that desolate beach – now that elation was totally immersed with this overwhelming sense of dread. Maybe there was something in those evil spirits after all? Even though my rational mind rejected such superstitious nonsense, a deeper lurking fear was tugging at my subconscious, sending shivers through me.
In an attempt to restore my equilibrium I stood on the bank and looked around at the dense forest that surrounded us. It was so full of life. The foliage was unusually dense so that it was difficult to penetrate but I could see exotic birds flitting above the trees, monkeys in the canopy and the rich rustle and hum of insect life. The air was humid and earthy with the aroma of decay mixed in with tropical blossom. This was the sultry paradise that I loved. Or at least what I had loved up until now. Right now it felt strangely oppressive and threatening.
I could not help thinking that those indigenous natives had been right. Maybe there were evil spirits here? I could certainly sense a great unease that sent fear welling up in me. That was not because of the physical challenge or dangers that lay ahead. I was used to them. Those trials did not scare me. This was something different, as if some great terror lay beneath the surface, hidden beneath a thin veneer of normality.
That feeling of fear was something I hoped was not an omen of what was to come, not that I believed in premonitions. It was just that it had taken me by surprise, something I had never experienced before. I reasoned with myself: once we go going it would soon pass.
I repressed the fear. Underlying it was the joy of being back in amongst nature and I attempted to allow that to bubble up to the surface. I tried taking deep breaths, sucking the rich aroma of the jungle into my lungs but nothing I did seemed to dispel my qualms.