Nate found it hard to think. His brain felt two sizes too big for his skull. 'Then it must have been my subconscious,' he said. 'When I first saw the pods, I remember thinking that the nuts looked like the fruiting bodies of Uncaria tomentosa. Better known as cat's claw. Indians use it against viruses, bacteria, and sometimes tumors. But I didn't make the correlation until now. Maybe the drug helped my subconscious make the intuitive leap:'
'You could be right,' Kouwe said.
Nate heard the hesitation in the professor's voice. 'What else could it be?'
Kouwe frowned. 'I talked with Dakii while you were drugged out. The ali ne Yagga powder comes from the root of this tree. Desiccated and powdered root fiber.'
So.
'So maybe what you dreamed wasn't your subconscious. Maybe it was some type of prerecorded message from the tree itself. An instruction manual, so to speak: Consume the fruit of the tree and you will stay healthy. A simple message:'
'You can't be serious.'
'Considering the setup in this valley-mutated species, regenerating limbs, humans enslaved in service to a plant-I wouldn't put anything beyond this tree's abilities:'
Nate shook his head.
Anna frowned. 'The professor may have a point. I can't even imagine how this tree is able to produce prions specific to the DNA of so many different species. That alone is miraculous. How did it learn? Where did the tree even get genetic material to learn from?'
Kouwe waved an arm around the room. 'This tree traces its roots back to the Paleozoic era, when the land was just plants. Its ancestors must have been around as land animals first evolved, and rather than competing, it incorporated these new species into its own life cycle, like the Amazon's ant tree does today.'
The professor continued with his theories, but Nate found himself tuning him out. He was drawn back to Anna's last question. Where did the tree even get genetic material to learn from? It was a good question, and it nagged at Nate. How had the Yagga learned to produce its wide variety of species-specific prions?
Nate remembered his dream: the line of animals and people disappearing inside the tree. Where had they gone? Was it more than just symbolic? Did they go somewhere? Nate found his eyes on Dakii, kneeling by the hammock. Maybe it was another intuitive leap, or a residual effect of the drug, but Nate began to get a suspicion where that somewhere might be.
All ne rah. Blood of the Yagga. From the root of the tree.
Nate's gaze narrowed on Dakii. He recalled the Indian's description of his father's fate, spoken with gladness. He's gone to feed the root.
Nate found his feet stepping toward the tribesman.
Kouwe stopped his discourse. 'Nate . . . ?'
'There's one piece of the puzzle we're still missing:' Nate nodded to Dakii. 'And I know who has it:'
He crossed to the kneeling tribesman. Dakii glanced up, tears running down his face. The loss of the leader had struck the man hard. He hauled to his feet as Nate stopped before him.
'Wishwa,' he said, bowing his head, acknowledging the passing of power.
'I'm sorry for your loss;' Nate said, 'but we must speak:' Kouwe came over and assisted with the translations, but Nate was now becoming skilled at mixing English and Yanomamo words to get his message across. Dakii pointed to the bed, wiping an eye. 'He named Dakoo:' The native touched a palm to the dead man's chest. 'He father of me:'
Nate bit his lip. He should have guessed. Now that Dakii had mentioned it, he saw the similarities. Nate placed a hand on the man's shoulder. He knew what it was like to lose a father. 'I'm truly sorry,' he repeated, this time with more feeling.
Dakii nodded. 'Thank you:'
'Your father was an amazing man. He will be mourned by all of us, but right now we're in grave danger. We need your help:'
Dakii bowed his head. 'You wishwa. You say . . . I do:'
I need you to take me to the root of the tree, to where the tree is fed.
Dakii's head snapped up, his face showing both fear and worry.
'Gently,' Kouwe warned him in a whisper. 'You are clearly treading on sacred ground:'
Nate waved away the professor's caution and placed a palm to his own chest. 'I am wishwa now. I must see the root:'
The tribesman bobbed his head. 'I go show you.' He glanced to hi~ dead father in the hammock, then turned toward the exit.
They began to wind back down the tunnel. Anna and Kouwe whispered behind Nate, leaving him to his own thoughts. He again remembered his comparison of the Ban-ali symbol to the serpentine tunnel through the Yagga's trunk. But did it represent more? Did it also symbolize the essential molecular shape of the mutating prion, as Kelly had suggested? Was there indeed some communication between plant and human? Some shared memory? After what Nate had experienced under the effect of the drug, he was not so sure he could dismiss this last possibility. Perhaps the symbol did indeed represent both. The true heart of the Yagga.
Nate and the group continued down.
'Someone come,' Dakii said, slowing.
Then Nate heard it, too. Footsteps, trotting or running.
From around a corner, a familiar figure appeared.
'Private Camera,' Kouwe said.
She nodded, hardly out of breath from the steep run up the tunnel. Nate noticed she had recovered her weapon. 'I was sent to fetch you. To see if you found another way off this plateau. Sergeant Kostos had no luck disarming the explosives:'
Nate realized, in all the disturbing revelations, he had failed to ask the most important question. Was there another way out of the valley?
'Dakii,' Nate said. 'We need to know if there is a secret path to the lower valley. Do you know one?' This communication took much gesturing and Kouwe's help.
While Kouwe translated, Camera glanced at Nate with an eyebrow raised. 'You've not already interrogated the man?' she whispered. 'What have you been doing?'
'Doing drugs,' Nate said, distracted and concentrating on the conversation with the tribesman.
Dakii finally seemed to understand. 'Go away? Why? Stay here:' He pointed to his feet.
'We can't,' Nate said with exasperation.
Anna spoke at his shoulder, 'He doesn't understand about the bombs. He doesn't know the valley is going to be destroyed. Such a concept is beyond him:'
'We'll have to make him understand,' Nate said. He turned to Camera. 'In the meantime, I need you and the sergeant to gather as many of this tree's nuts as you can into packs:'
'Nuts?'
'I'll explain later. Just do it . . . please:'
She nodded, turning away. 'But remember, guys . . . tick-tock:' She glanced significantly at them, then took off.
Note faced Dakii. How to tell the man that his entire homeland was about to be wiped out? It wouldn't be easy. Note sighed. 'Let's keep heading to the root:'
As they continued down, Nate and Kouwe flanked the tribesman and slowly communicated the danger here. Dakii's confused expression slowly twisted into horror as he got the message. The scout's feet stumbled as he walked, as if the knowledge were a physical burden.
By now they had reached the tunnel exit, surrounded by a gallery of blue palm prints. Beyond the opening, the light in the glade had taken on a dark honey color, suggesting sunset was at hand. Time was running out.
'Is there another way out of the valley?' Nate asked again.
Dakii pointed to where the tunnel ended at a slightly concave wall covered with the blue prints. 'Through the root. We go through the root:'
'Yes, I want to see the root, too, but what about the way out?'
Dakii stared at him. 'Through the root,' he repeated.
