Chapter Five
Christine felt extremely frazzled, her fingers still numb from gripping the arms of the seat; she respected the pilot for handling the rough landing so professionally and efficiently, but it would take a while for her to regain her stomach, as it had completely fled her in the duration of the admittedly only bad part of the flight.
The first thing that hit her after her reflections on the landing was how utterly humid the weather was, even though it was almost midnight. The atmosphere seemed to press down and smother them like a giant blanket; she found it difficult to breathe properly.
She stood still, just taking in the warmth after the chill of the cabin, still trying to regain her nerves. Suddenly, she felt a slight pressure on her shoulder, and she turned around to see Simon.
"Are you all right? Feeling well?" The friendly concern was evident, shining in his large brown eyes that so captivated her.
"I'm still a little shaken from the landing," she confessed.
He nodded. "Yes, I think we all are."
"Thank you for your concern, Simon, I greatly appreciate it."
"No problem at all," he replied, and walked over to the pile of cargo waiting to be loaded on the truck that had pulled up not but five minutes previous.
Christine herself was about to head over to help load when she noticed a tall figure in some sort of uniform heading towards her down the landing strip. Curious, she waited.
"Miss Daaé?" the figure called out to her as he came closer, his voice a rich contrabass.
"Yes, that's me."
He finally reached her, his face showing in the half-light of the flares on the otherwise dark landing strip. "Colonel Wright, at your service; I'm here to escort you and your team to headquarters."
"Oh!" She furrowed her brow slightly, confused. An escort? She hadn't been briefed about an escort. "Well, Colonel, I…appreciate your efforts. However, I was not aware that we would require an escort… Please pardon me saying so, but it doesn't quite make sense in my mind, considering this isn't a government-funded study."
"This is indeed an unusual circumstance, I assure you, Miss Daaé. Allow me to suggest to you, however, to allow myself and my men to escort you and your team, as it is the safest option at the moment, considering the circumstances."
"'Safest option'?" she repeated, her eyebrows slowly creeping up her forehead. "Why, what's happened?"
"I promise you I will explain everything once we arrive at our destination, as this isn't the best place to be having this conversation, if you get my drift."
"Of course, Colonel," she replied, and they walked together to the truck, nearly all of the supplies loaded and ready to go, completely unaware of the burning eyes that almost seemed to glow of their own volition, watching their every move from the cover of the trees several meters away.
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The ride from the makeshift and largely military inhabited airport was relatively uneventful, and nothing out of the ordinary beset the two-vehicle caravan as they traversed the unpaved road the three miles to the military outpost.
However, when she first approached with the Colonel, and when the other truck had appeared from the far end of the air field, she had received several puzzled and suspicious looks from her colleagues. She introduced the colonel to her men, but when he left to confer with his, she shrugged her shoulders and shook her head in confusion.
"What's all this about?" demanded Thomas, fiddling with his tell tale cowboy hat, as he always did when he was nervous or agitated, she noticed.
"Military escort. I have no idea what's going on, Wright told me he'd explain everything when we get to the outpost."
"An escort? Preposterous," said Oliver, and behind him Jonathon nodded vigorously. She noticed that ever since she had sent Oliver over to go talk to the quieter, more subdued man, Jonathon had taken to following his more outgoing counterpart a little like a puppy. "What in the bloody hell—" he paused, coughing, looking at Christine a little sheepishly. "I mean… what do we need an escort for?"
"Again, don't ask me, I have no idea. He said something about it being the best thing for our safety."
Simon, Thomas, and Jonathon all exchanged a rather dark glance, but Oliver, carefree as always, laughed outright. "And they expect us to believe we'll be safer with them? They're armed, for God's sake, they could kill us all right now, and no one would ever know."
Doctor Flynn waved Oliver's comment aside impatiently. "That's the furthest thing from my mind, and I very much doubt that you'll need to even expend energy thinking about any such thing happening."
"Then, what's wrong, Doctor?" asked Christine; she had rarely seen him this agitated before.
"It's this whole business of a military escort. Be that as it may that they are offering the protection of the Crown, the government shouldn't be messing in things like this."
"Then, doesn't that mean the threat is serious? If they should not even be getting involved…" mused Christine aloud.
"Or the government wants a stake in this; Papua is a colony, yes, but ours is one of the first purely scientific ventures into this area. They know what ever we find will be invaluable."
"So the Queen wants a slice of the pie, then, does she?" said Thomas. "I'll be damned…"
"Are we ready?" asked the Colonel, approaching the group once more. He began to say something else, but the roar of the plane as it started up again drowned out all other sound. They waved at the minor staff that had accompanied them on their flight as the plane turned slowly around and finally started off down the way it had come, gaining speed, and then, finally, altitude as it took off.
Christine sighed, watching the lights of the plane that would take her back to London, the plane she would not see for two months, or quite possibly, not see ever again. Shaking herself from her reverie, she turned to the Colonel. "Lead on, if you please, Colonel."
He nodded, saluted, then climbed into the bed of the military truck, Christine doing the same, only in the unmarked truck that carried their precious supplies that they would have to depend on for the next two months, and the rest of her team.
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By the time the military buildings were within sight, Christine's bottom was terribly sore from bouncing around, largely unsecured, in the large bed of the truck. She supposed she should be thankful that the entire thing had not been empty instead of how loaded down with supplies as it currently was; she would have most assuredly fallen out.
Plus, the rest of her team was in a similar condition, so it didn't bother her as much as it would have if she had been the only one subjected to such pain.
The trucks pulled into the middle of the compound after passing through the gates, and Christine jumped out of the truck bed just in time to see the gates close firmly behind them, the soldiers looking stoic, almost annoyed.
"Will we need to unload, Colonel?" she asked, seeing the man disembark from the bed of the first truck.
"No, that won't be necessary. Right now, I would prefer to speak to you in my office about the present situation…"
"Uh, excuse me," piped up Oliver, surprising Christine immensely. She spun around to motion for him to be quiet, that she could handle it, but he continued, "I think it would be preferred if you could speak to all of us in that office of yours, chap. I know I've got questions, and so do the rest of my colleagues."
The Colonel glared at Oliver, looking positively menacing for a moment, before returning his gaze to Christine. "Miss Daaé?"
"At your discretion, Colonel, but I have to agree with Oliver; each member of my team serves his own unique purpose, yet we function as a collective unit, so I would hate to deprive them of the information. Besides, it would be so tiresome to have to repeat everything to them, when I could just have you tell us all at the same time," she replied politely yet firmly, earning a collective grin of approval from her men, though she couldn't see.
He sighed impatiently. "Very well, very well. Follow me, then…"
Christine paused for a moment to let the rest of her party catch up, then they set out after the officer together. They did not speak, but she could practically feel the newly acquired respect pouring from them onto her. She smiled, definitely pleased with herself.
Colonel Wright's office space was rather smaller than he had led them to believe, so, consequently, while Christine sat in the stiff-backed and decidedly uncomfortable chair before the Colonel's writing desk, the five other men had to squeeze into the office, standing against the wall, nearly surrounding Christine on all sides like a unit of body guards.
"Now," she said, once introductions had been taken care of, "what do you mean by all of this, Colonel? Why is our stay at this compound necessary, and why did we need to be escorted?"
"As I was saying earlier, both are precautions for your safety, and the safety of your team."
"What is the threat?"
The Colonel paused, almost seeming to shudder. "The…natives, Miss Daaé."
"What about them?" asked Simon, intrigued, before Christine could get the chance.
The military man shot him a despairing glance before answering, "I'm sure you are aware of the…practices of some of the tribes on this island?"
"Which ones?" inquired Christine. "I'm not an anthropologist, my specialty is botany, but I tried finding out as much as I could by researching some of the literature before we left."
"Miss Daaé…the people here…practice cannibalism," pronounced the Colonel in a hoarse whisper.
"A fascinating phenomenon indeed," replied the Doctor, but the rest of the men did not seem to agree with him on this aspect; Jonathon turned distinctly pale, and Simon and Oliver exchanged glances while Thomas took his hat completely from his head, and held it in his hands, which kept clenching in and out on the brim of the leather hat.
"I am aware of this practice, yes. But it is purely ritualistic, what does it have to do with myself and my team being in danger?"
"Now, I don't know where you got your information, and I don't profess to be any sort of scientist—far from it, believe me, I hated the subject in school—but if it's just a ritual thing, then they must do this ritual quite often… I've already lost four men to the night watch; the tribe that occupies this area hunts at night, which is the reason for your escort earlier."
"What else can you tell us about the people in this area, then? What will we need to know if we encounter them, are they peaceful unless provoked, what?" demanded Christine, her heartbeat noticeably quickening; she hadn't bargained on this.
"Slow down, Miss," replied Colonel Wright, putting his hands up defensively. "This compound is relatively new, only established a little more than a year ago… we don't know much about the people, only that those that have seen them have consequently never been seen again."
She had been expecting Oliver to laugh at this last sentence, but no laugh came; in fact, the office was completely silent, her heartbeat sounding off loud and clear in her ears.
"On whose orders are you acting on?" she inquired at last, breaking the silence which had become overwhelming and unbearable to her; still, she could her heart, and she was reminded of that most famous, gruesome story of Poe's.
The Colonel colored a little, looking down at his desk before meeting her gaze once again. "No orders, Miss. As the leading officer stationed here, though, I do have a bit of liberty…"
She stood, exceedingly grateful for this act that she had once considered to be intrusive and suspicious. Behind her, she could sense the unspoken gratitude emanating from her team. "Thank you, Colonel, thank you very much," she said, shaking his hand vigorously.
"Of course. Also, because of the threat, you have been granted clearance to stay here at night for the duration of your study; we can also provide you a few men to serve as an escort during the day, if you'd like."
"No, the lodging will be enough, thank you."
"Are you sure, Christine?" murmured Flynn.
She nodded, looking at him. "Yes, Doctor I'm sure…I honestly don't think we'll need an escort."
Colonel Wright nodded. "Very well." He stood. "Now, allow me to show you to the barracks you will be staying in; they're outfitted with electricity and running water, just make sure you keep the windows closed, as the mosquitoes are especially fierce…"
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"Hey…you all right?"
It was Christine's turn to ask this question of a quieter than was normal Oliver. He looked up at her from where he sat on his cot, smiling feebly. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Just a little shaken…"
She nodded. "I am too, believe me," she whispered as the rest of the members of the party were sound asleep.
"You do a better job at not showing it, fearless leader."
"I guess a woman's good for something, eh?" she joked, a remark that triggered something in her memory. "Oh, Oliver?"
"Hmm?"
"You didn't have to correct yourself earlier, when you said 'bloody hell'… I don't care what language you use around me, really."
He grinned. "Sorry… just the way I was raised."
"I understand. Just saying…"
"Thanks, Christine." He nodded towards the area that had been portioned off in the farthest corner for her personal sleeping space. "Get some sleep; you have a big day tomorrow."
"We have a big day tomorrow," she corrected. "We're a team, remember?"
"So we are. Well… goodnight, then."
"Goodnight, Oliver. Pleasant dreams," she replied, and then made her way over to her cot, turning off the small lamp, pitching the room into blackness.