The Lost Island

56

The helicopter had vanished, but Gideon could still hear the thud of its rotors. It sounded like it was going into a hover near the middle of the island, no doubt to rope down personnel to finish clearing the LZ.

“Glinn,” said Amiko, in a low voice.

Gideon swore. “I guess he got a better fix on us than we realized.”

For a long time, neither said a word. The thump of the chopper blades rolled through the trees, the smoke billowed upward. Soon that was joined by the sound of chain saws.

Gideon looked at Amiko. He could see the disbelief, the shock and anger, in her eyes.

“We need to stop this,” she said.

“Yes. We need to confront Glinn, find out what’s going on.”

They went back into the cave, threw some supplies into a drysack. Without exchanging a word, they set out toward the rising smoke and the outraged buzz of chain saws, following the web of trails toward the far end of the island. As they moved on, the sounds grew louder: the crashing of a great tree being felled, the whines of multiple chain saws going at once, the shouts of men, the crackle of radios — and now the rumbling of a massive diesel generator.

They burst into the clearing. One chopper was coming in while a second had already put down. A third was hovering nearby. It staggered Gideon how much had been done in so little time. A crew was busily cutting up and hauling off a litter of great trees that lay on the ground, while others went around with fire extinguishers putting out the last of the napalm fires that had devoured the thick brush and understory. Still others were erecting metal poles for tents and establishing an electrified perimeter fence.

At one side, a massive metal cage was being erected.

At the sight of this, Gideon stopped. It was impossible. They hadn’t told Glinn — hadn’t even known themselves — that there was a live Cyclops on the island.

“The son of a bitch,” breathed Gideon. “How did he know?”

Amiko said nothing.

Nearby stood a large wall tent, already erected and staked out, with a small gazebo adjacent to it. After a moment’s hesitation, Gideon walked toward it, Amiko following. He pulled aside the flap and there, as he expected, was Glinn, sitting in an all-terrain wheelchair, wearing light safari clothing, a young blond man in camo standing at his side, holding an M16. Nearby stood Manuel Garza, his face like stone.

“Ah, Gideon and Amiko,” Glinn said. “I was expecting you. Come in.”

“What’s that cage for?” Amiko asked quietly.

“Won’t you sit down?”

“Answer my question.”

“You know some of it already. It all started with the vellum. Respondeo ad quaestionem, ipsa pergamena. ‘I, the very page, answer the question.’ It turns out that the ‘very page’—the parchment itself — was the solution. It was made from the skin of an animal — but not any sort of animal normally used for parchment. We did a DNA analysis of the sample. As I’ve told you, we identified the creature that the parchment was taken from. Neanderthal. But there was a twist. This Neanderthal-like hominid was different. More robust. Bigger. Fiercely aggressive. And in one area, this creature’s genetics are completely different from Neanderthals — and modern humans. And that is in the area of sight. The creature of the vellum had a very different way of seeing, a single, large optic nerve, a single area of the brain for optic processing — and what’s more, a single eye. When you radioed that you’d seen the skull of a Cyclops, we knew exactly what this creature was. And when we ran this information through our proprietary QBA programs, we got a most interesting result: that, given the remote location of this island group and lack of contact with the outside world, there was no good reason to think the Cyclops had gone extinct.”

“And the cage,” said Amiko. “That’s for…capturing one?”

“While the lotus is our prime goal, the scientific opportunity to study a living Neanderthal-like creature must not be missed.”

Gideon stared at him, then glanced at Amiko. She was looking at him with intensity, communicating some meaning.

Gideon managed an easy laugh. “That’s ridiculous. We’ve been on the island now for days. We haven’t seen the slightest indication of any Cyclopes. You might as well send that cage back to where it came from.”

Glinn seemed to pierce him with his one gray eye. “You’re an excellent liar, Gideon, but you can’t fool me.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I shall keep the cage ready and waiting, because you have just confirmed what I suspected: that there are Cyclopes on this island.”

Amiko finally spoke. “Wrong. There’s one Cyclops. A very old one. The last of its kind.”

Glinn arched his eyebrow. “Indeed?”

“So you see,” said Amiko slowly, “there’s no way you can put the last one in that cage. It would be a crime against nature.”

“I’m sorry, Amiko, but we’re going to be working to recover the lotus. Our activities will be disruptive to the Cyclops’s habitat. The creature will need protection.”

Amiko’s voice rose a notch. “You need to call this whole thing off. Right now. You’re wrecking the island. It’s a unique habitat. This isn’t the way to recover the lotus!”

“I am sorry,” said Glinn, “but it’s the only way to recover the lotus.”

Amiko said, “You’ll kill him if you put him in that cage.”

“Him?” Glinn’s one eyebrow raised slightly.

“Yes, him.”

“So you’ve made contact?”

“Yes.”

He lapsed into silence. Finally he sighed and extended one claw-like hand in a gesture of conciliation. “May I speak?”

Amiko said nothing.

“There are two issues here,” Glinn began, his voice mild, reasonable. “The first is that we’ve discovered a medicine that will change the lives of every human being on this planet. It’s that significant. Of much less importance, but still extraordinary, is our discovery of a living hominid—”

“Our discovery?” Gideon said acidly. “You had nothing to do with it.”

“Your discovery of a living hominid, a relative of our species, a variant of Homo neanderthalensis. That this creature lives in the same place as the miracle drug and apparently feeds on it is unfortunate. By landing here, by identifying the plant and obtaining samples, we can bring the drug to humanity. By studying the creature, we can learn much about our origins. Two birds with one stone. That is why we’re here. And truly, the Cyclops needs to be protected, if only from itself.”

“You’re not going to put him in that cage,” Amiko said.

“We need to create the right habitat for him.”

“Habitat,” Amiko repeated. “You mean, zoo?”

“He can’t be turned loose just anywhere to fend for himself. Certainly you can see that. We will find a suitably appropriate habitat for him to live out the rest of his days.”

“Amiko’s right,” said Gideon. “He’ll die in a cage.”

Glinn continued on, his voice infuriatingly calm. “Mr. Garza and I ran countless scenarios on this. We chose the route with the highest probability of success. That route requires us to go in fast and hard, get the lotus, and get out. To establish a Cyclops preserve, we’d have to enter into negotiations with the Nicaraguan and Honduran governments — for whom this island is disputed territory. That would mean going through our State Department and diplomatic channels — a sure route to failure. We’re here, we’ve taken possession, and by the time anyone finds out, we’ll be gone. The Cyclops is in the way. We will do all we can to save it. But the lotus comes first. We’ll be doing God’s work in bringing this miracle to the human race.”

“God’s work?” said Amiko. “You really are crazy.”

“Not at all. This medicine is not for the benefit of one corporation, one nation, or one socioeconomic class. The goal of our client is to use this discovery to benefit the world.”

“Your goal is right, but not like this! That Cyclops saved my life! And Gideon’s!” Amiko’s voice was on the verge of breaking.

“It’s the only way.”

“It’s not the only way. You can’t do this.” She swallowed. “Wait until you see him, you’ll understand. He’s a person, he’s almost a human being. But even more than that, he’s the last of his kind. You can’t take him away from his home. Please, Eli, let him live out his last days here, in peace, in the place he knows and loves, where all his memories are.”

“I am indeed sorry, but that can’t happen.”

“For the love of God, don’t put him in that cage!”

“The cage is only temporary—”

In one smooth, practiced motion, Amiko pulled the .45 from the drysack and pointed it at Glinn. The aide raised his M16, but Glinn made a sharp gesture for him to put up the rifle.

“I’ll kill you before you put him in that cage,” Amiko said. “I swear to God.”

Glinn contemplated the .45 with a steady gray eye. “I already know you won’t use that on me.”

“You son of a bitch, I will!”

“Then do it.”

Amiko raised the barrel and fired it into the air, the massive pistol giving off a deafening boom, then lowered the muzzle again. Glinn continued looking at her. A group of soldiers burst into the tent, but Glinn again held up his hand. “Let me handle this.” He glared at Amiko. “I’m still waiting to see if you’re a killer. You want to stop this? You can do it by pulling the trigger.”

Amiko stared at him, her chest heaving, the gun shaking in her hand. Suddenly she rushed at him, swinging the gun like a club. The aide launched himself forward to tackle her, grabbing for the gun, but she was too quick, spinning around and striking him in the head with her foot. The two soldiers threw themselves into the struggle, one punching her hard in the face. Seeing this, Gideon joined in without thought, tackling one soldier and sending him sprawling into the side of the tent, while kneeing the other solider in the diaphragm. The tent came down around them with a tearing of canvas and clattering of poles. Others joined the fray and in a moment it was over. Gideon found himself jammed facedown on the ground, knees pressed into his back. He could hear Amiko amid the wreckage of the tent, screaming like a wild woman.

“Clear this mess away,” came Glinn’s cool voice.

The tangle of torn tent fabric and bent poles was whisked off, leaving Glinn sitting, unscathed, in his wheelchair. Amiko was pinned by two men, her nose bloody, screaming at Glinn.

“Let Gideon up,” Glinn said.

They released him and Gideon stood up, spitting blood from a cut lip.

“You bastard,” Amiko screamed at the top of her lungs. “You won’t just kill him, you’ll be responsible for the extinction of his species!”

“You are a bastard,” said Gideon, staring at Glinn, and then at Garza. Garza hadn’t participated in the melee. His face was a hard, neutral mask.

“You won’t get away with this,” Amiko continued yelling. “The world will know! You cage that Cyclops, you’ll pay!”

Glinn shook his head. “You are thinking with your emotions.”

“Go to hell!”

“Please take her away until she’s rational.”

She was hauled away, cursing and spitting. Glinn turned his gray eye on Gideon. “You seem…confused.”

“I’m not confused about the way you’re treating her. It’s outrageous.”

“I want you to understand why I’m doing what I’m doing. Give me credit for caring what you think.”

Gideon stared at him. He could still hear Amiko outside, yelling, screaming, and threatening. He didn’t quite know what to make of her outburst, pulling the gun. The intensity of her rage, its extreme suddenness, shocked him. Glinn, on the other hand, almost appeared to have expected it.

“As I was saying, this is the best — and the only — way to succeed. If we let the local governments become involved — even if they don’t destroy the island in their squabble over it — they will seek to monetize the discovery. They will cut an exclusive deal with a multinational pharmaceutical company to bring the drug to market. The end result is that the drug will be expensive and available only to the privileged. And they’ll put the Cyclops in a real zoo and monetize that as well. The way to stop this is to do what we are doing now. A preemptive strike. Our client, who is completely trustworthy and a man of goodwill, will found a nonprofit organization that will breed the plant and distribute it free to any qualified research group, government, and pharmaceutical company that wants it. In this way, the drug will come to market at the lowest possible cost.”

He paused again and eyed Gideon with peculiar intensity. “I’d think you, of all people, would want to see this drug developed.”

Gideon said nothing. Glinn had touched him where he was most vulnerable. But caging the Cyclops remained an ugly, ugly decision.

Glinn went on in his reasonable voice. “The logic is inescapable. We will do all we can to help the Cyclops, but it cannot remain on this island. According to our computer simulations, we have twenty-four hours before our presence here is discovered and investigated. If we don’t have the lotus by then, we will fail.”

Gideon winced slightly as Amiko, outside, let forth another shrill outburst. “As always,” he said, “you make everything sound so inevitable. But I want no part of it.”

“And you shall have none. Neither you nor Amiko. Tomorrow morning, Manuel will fly you both to Managua, and from there you will return to the States. Your work is done. And exceedingly well done, if I might say so, despite the contretemps at the end.” He gestured toward the sound of Amiko’s screaming. Glancing in her direction, Gideon could see that the two men holding her were having a hard time; she was amazingly strong for someone so small.

Suddenly a thunderous roar came from the wall of jungle. Gideon turned his head in time to see an extraordinary sight. The Cyclops came bursting from the foliage, his yellow eye fiery with rage, his mouth open, exposing long, yellow canines, his gigantic, muscled frame radiating ferocity, his silver hair streaming behind him. He carried a club in one massive hand and a spear in the other. He rushed straight at the men holding Amiko, who were so stunned they seemed momentarily paralyzed. He swung the club, which literally exploded the skull of one of the men, and grabbed Amiko.

“I want it alive!” cried Glinn.

Several men rushed forward, Tasing the creature with flashes of blue light, the crackling sound mingling with his terrible roars as he swept them aside with a massive arm. The Tasers only seemed to enrage him more. Now other men rushed up with a metal net, which they flung over him. Thrashing maniacally, the Cyclops clawed it apart with his hands, the metal strands snapping and twanging like guitar strings as he tore the net to pieces, Amiko fighting to help free him from the entanglement.

Men with rifles were hastily taking up positions, leveling their guns.

“No!” screamed Amiko, “don’t shoot!” But the rifles went off with popping sounds — tranquilizing darts. Half a dozen stubby syringes buried themselves in the Cyclops’s back and side. He gave another jungle-shaking bellow and flailed about, pulling them out and flinging them away.

“Again!” Glinn ordered.

“No!” Amiko screamed, trying to place herself between the Cyclops and the shooters.

A second round of well-aimed shots hit the Cyclops. The soldiers backed off as he came to a staggering halt, his great eye rolling grotesquely, his mouth distorted, spittle drooling out. He flailed about hopelessly for a moment, and then collapsed on the ground, his guttural cries dying into a choking sputter before going silent.

In five minutes, the soldiers had loaded his gigantic body onto a dolly and rolled him into the cage. Amiko, who had been tackled and recaptured, had finally stopped screaming and fallen silent.

Glinn turned to Gideon. “The creature came to rescue her. Impressive. Now that we’ve captured the Cyclops, we can get moving on phase two — finding the lotus.” He gestured at the headless body of the man lying in the wet ashes of the clearing. “That was unfortunate. Manuel, could you please have it taken care of?”

Garza went off in silence and soon was directing a group of men removing the body. Glinn gestured for Amiko to be brought to him. Her hands cuffed behind her back, held by two burly men, she was led forward.

“It’s over,” Glinn said. “There’s nothing you can do for the creature now. If you promise to behave, I’d like to release you.”

Silence. And then Amiko said, in a strange, cold voice: “You can release me.”

The two men undid her cuffs and let her go.

“The men will stay with you, however, until you depart.”

“You’ve overlooked one small fact,” Amiko said.

“And what is that?”

“You won’t find the lotus — without his help.”