Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3) (20 page)

39

In South America, just over the Peruvian border, another wind shear hit the C-12 Huron hard, sending everyone in the cabin sideways and clinging desperately to the arms of their seats.

They were less than fifty miles from Iquitos and running on fumes.  The pilots fought to keep the plane’s altitude level as the pounding rain reduced their visibility to what was directly in front of them.  They were now fighting for a controlled descent.

Communication from the small airport in Iquitos was now constant, feeding the pilots information from the ground and waiting for visual contact.

In the cabin, DeeAnn was desperately trying to maintain a grip on Dulce’s hand, which was now covered in sweat.  She hadn’t said a word in the last thirty minutes.  Instead, her young hazel eyes were wide with fear, squeezing DeeAnn with one hand and her chair with the other.

“It’s okay, Dulce.  We’re okay.”  DeeAnn kept talking loudly through the speaker on her chest, trying to calm her.  She lowered her face, trying to get the small gorilla to look at her.  Unsuccessful, she spoke over the noise to Caesare.  “How much longer?!”

“Ten minutes!”

Caesare watched DeeAnn roll her eyes and turn back to Dulce, who he realized was obviously having trouble.  But he was focused on something far more critical –– the sound of the engines outside, or more specifically the sound of sputtering.  The fearful sound that would tell him the last of their fuel was gone.  As long as he could hear their high-pitched whine, they still had a chance.  But if they lost the engines at this distance, even a decent glide ratio wouldn’t get them far enough.  And now, deep over the rainforest, there were no open areas for an emergency landing.  It was the runway at Iquitos or nothing.

Another sudden plunge tested their seatbelts, and a loud whimper was heard from Dulce.  Behind DeeAnn, Juan had both eyes closed.  If they crashed, he didn’t want to see it coming.

Caesare tuned out the voices of the two pilots in the cockpit and pressed to find the engines again amongst the noise.  But instead he heard the sound he had been dreading…a sputtering engine.  The left fuel tank was now empty.

The voices of the pilots turned to shouts as they tried to restart the engine.  No dice.  They redirected everything to the right side, fighting even harder to keep the craft level.

Caesare felt the nervousness and fear coursing through his veins.  He tried to concentrate as if to
will
the second engine to keep turning.  He couldn’t let everyone die.

He checked his watch again…eight minutes.

40

The right engine began to sputter.  Just twelve seconds before their forceful impact onto the Iquitos runway.

The sudden reverse thrust of the right engine caused everyone to lurch forward.  But the uneven reversal resulted in the aircraft veering hard to the right.  Suddenly they were off the wet runway, careening into a field of tall wet grass and mud.

The soggy ground grabbed the wheels instantly and pitched the Huron sideways, causing its left wheel to buckle and its struts to smash into the black asphalt.  A shower of sparks erupted under the plane as the struts dug into the asphalt, continuing over the edge and into the mud.

With a thunderous shaking, the plane slowed and its large nose crashed into the ground, plowing to a violent stop.

Caesare was instantly on his feet and across the aisle, pushing DeeAnn and then Dulce back in their seats, checking for injuries.  Both stared back at him, alive but in shock.

“Is anyone hurt?”  He unbuckled their belts and gently searched DeeAnn first.  She shook her head and he turned to Dulce, who immediately leaped into his arms, soaking wet and clinging as tightly as she could. 

No like bird.

With Tiewater already pulling Juan from the seat behind them, Caesare could only laugh.

The large wooden door burst open and Wil Borger stuck his head into the conference room, interrupting Langford, who was seated with several other men.

“Sir!   Steve Caesare and the others are on the ground in Iquitos!”

Langford took a huge breath and leaned back in his chair.  “Thank God.  Any injuries?”

“None, sir.  Everyone is fine.”

Langford looked across the table with relief.  Secretary of Defense, Merl Miller, smiled.  “That was damn close.”

All of them broke into laughter and Langford slapped the table.  He then turned to Borger. “You tell him if he does that again, I’ll court-martial him.”

“Yes, sir!”

Langford turned to Douglas Bartman, the Secretary of State, sitting across the table and to his right.  The man was smiling under a head of dark brown hair.  “The Peruvian government assured us they will keep the incident quiet.  And it’s a hell of a lot easier to maintain our cover of a humanitarian mission now without casualties.”

“Any cooperation from Guyana yet?”

“No.  Not from any of them yet.”

“What about Brazil?”

Bartman frowned.  “Brazil has severed all communications with us.  As has Venezuela.”

“Well, Venezuela isn’t a surprise.”  Miller shrugged.

“Agreed.  Brazil is surprising though.  Then again, their Union is coming apart at the seams so we don’t know what the hell is going on in there.”

“Or,” Langford replied, “it could mean they know more about our involvement than we think.”

“You think they know why the Bowditch was sunk?”

“They might.”  Langford turned to Borger, still at the door.  “Keep us posted, Wil, and provide whatever help you can to Caesare’s team.  We’ll work on things from here.  If you find any indication that someone knows what we’re up to, tell me immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”  Borger ducked back out and closed the door.

Langford returned to Miller.  “You were saying?”

“We have three full ranger teams ready to go in if Caesare’s team fails.  There will be no secrecy at that point, just a fight to take the primate back from the Brazilians, assuming they find it first.  We’ll get it, I can promise you that.  But it will be messy, both militarily and politically.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Across the table, Bartman shrugged.  “Your man Caesare is not only outmanned but taking in two civilians and an ape.  I’m betting we’re gonna need those Rangers.”

Langford’s phone rang and he leaned forward to fish it out of his pocket while replying to Bartman.  “You might be surprised.”

He answered his phone.  “Langford.”

“Admiral Langford?  This is Alison Shaw.”

Langford looked around the table with a mild look of surprise.  “Ms. Shaw.  What can I do for you?  I trust Officer Lawton has arrived.”

“Yes, she has,” Alison answered.  “She’s with me on this call.  We have some important information.”

“Okay.  I’m listening.”

On the other end, Neely leaned closer to the phone.  “Admiral, we think we may have a lead on another biological source.”

“What kind of source?”

“Plants, sir.  With similar characteristics to those in Guyana.”

Langford’s expression froze.  “Repeat that, please.”

“We may have another source, sir.  Like the others.  But in a different location.”

Langford stood up out of his chair and stared at the other men in front of him.  “What do you need?”

Leaning onto her desk, Alison glanced at Neely.  “Funny you should ask, Admiral.”

In a pressed white button-down shirt, Captain Emerson was standing quietly aboard the U.S.S. Pathfinder’s bridge, reviewing a report on a thin computer tablet.  He calmly flicked his finger, scrolling the screen, and continued reading even after he was interrupted by his communications officer.

“Captain?”

“Yes,” Emerson answered without looking up.

“Sir, I have an urgent message for you.”

“From who?”

“From the Pentagon, sir.”

Emerson stopped reading and looked up.  The officer rose from his seat and handed the captain a folded piece of paper.  Emerson lowered the tablet and took the paper, flipping it open with one hand.

He read the short message and blinked at the white paper.  He read it a second time, more slowly.

“You have got to be joking.”

41

“Hello, Sally.”

Hello Alison.
  Sally’s eyes moved to Neely. 
Hello friend.

Neely smiled.  “Hi, Sally.”

“When will Dirk be back?”

Dirk back tomorrow.

“Hmm,” Alison paused, wondering how on Earth she knew that.  “Sally, we’d like to ask you some questions.”

Yes.
  Sally answered, thrusting her tail and gliding in toward the edge of the tank. 
We talk.

“Sally, we’d like to take you and Dirk back to the place you showed us.  The beautiful.  Will you come with us?”

Yes.  We go happy.

“But we need to go quickly.  On the metal.  Like the first time.”

Okay.

Alison opened her mouth to speak again but stopped.  She waited several seconds for Sally to say something else, but there was only silence.  She half expected Sally to ask why they were going back, but she didn’t.  Alison glanced briefly at Neely as if to say,
that was easy.

She then turned back to the tank.  “Sally, you told me that dolphins remember a lot.  Like a history.”  Before she could continue, IMIS emitted a loud sound from the computer screen.  It didn’t have a translation word for “history.” 

“Do you remember telling me that?”

Yes Alison.

“You also told me you were happy for us to talk again.”

Very happy Alison.  You happy too.

“Yes, I am very happy.  Just like you.  But this is the first time we remember talking to dolphins.  With the help of our metal.  Do you remember talking to us?”

Yes.  We talk Alison.  Far ago.  You no remember.

“No.  We don’t.  How do you remember?”

Heads.

Alison turned to explain to Neely, who was still wearing an expression of mild amazement. “Heads means their elders.  We met some near Trinidad.  From what we can gather, their lineage resembles some of the early cultural histories of humans.  Passing down history and knowledge through verbal communications.”

“Fascinating.”

“It really is.  It suggests a certain evolutionary
commonality
across species.  Chris thinks it’s where instinct leaves off and cognition begins.”

Neely nodded.  “It would explain an awful lot.”

“I agree.”  Alison continued.  “Sally, do you know how long ago humans and dolphins talked?”

No.  Heads know.

“Do you think we can ask them?”

Yes.  Them very talk.  Heads very happy for Dirk and Sally.

“Your elders are happy for you?”

Yes.

“Why are your heads happy for you?”

This time, Alison could have sworn Sally smiled. 
Alison. Humans happy you and Chris make talk.

She nodded.  “Yes, they are.  Chris and I are the first.”

Dirk and Sally first two. 
A moment later IMIS changed the word “two” to “too.”

Alison stood motionless, staring at Sally through the glass after her words reverberated over the computer’s speaker.  She was overcome by a revelation followed by an odd feeling of embarrassment.  She suddenly realized how one-dimensional her thinking had been this whole time.

She should have been looking at the tank’s glass as a
mirror
. 

Alison, Chris, and Lee had garnered a small amount of notoriety for being the very first and only humans to break the language barrier.  What she had never considered until now was that it was exactly the same for Dirk and Sally.  To their own culture,
they
were the ones who broke through to mankind.  As excited as Alison was, her dolphin friends were clearly just as excited.

Alison pushed her office door open with her shoulder and stepped inside, carrying two cups of coffee.  She placed one on the desk in front of Neely before stepping back and sitting in a second chair.

Neely took a sip and watched her with a bemused grin.  “Quite a day, huh?”

“God, you can say that again.”

“How are you feeling?”

Alison almost laughed. “Elated.  Shocked.  Exhausted.”

“Amazed.”

“That too.  And maybe a little obtuse.”

“That was quite a conversation to witness.  I’m guessing you had no idea that was coming.”

Alison shook her head.  “No.  But talk about
big
!”

“I would say so.”

“There are so many implications to all of this –– biology, evolution, anthropology.  The things we’re learning by finally being able to communicate with another true sentient being are staggering.”

Neely sipped her coffee again.  “They certainly are.”

At that, Alison paused to study her colleague.  “Given what we just learned, you seem a tad calm.”

Neely laughed.  “I know.  I do.  There’s a reason for that.  I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“About something Sally said.”  She leaned forward and placed the cup back on the desk, then straightened in the chair.  “Let me start by saying how impressive that computer system is that you built.  I mean, I’m skeptical by nature, but that system is turning me into a believer.”

“I know the feeling.”

“It’s funny.  There is a fine line between skepticism and optimism.  Skeptics want you to prove it and optimists want you to believe it.  And speaking from deep in the former’s camp, I will admit there is a certain resistance there to big ideas.”

Alison shrugged.  “Skeptics keep optimists grounded.”

Neely chuckled. “That’s how a lot of us like to think of it.  Some of it also comes from constant disappointment, but that’s another story.  The reason I’m saying this is because I’ve been considering some things from the other side.  My first reaction when Sally said humans and dolphins used to communicate was that it was nonsense.  It sounds like a plot for some kid’s movie.”

Alison laughed.

“But the more I think about it, the more disappointed I am with myself for dismissing it.  Because, even objectively speaking, there are some aspects of science that may support it.  Particularly in genetics.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  Think of our genetic history as a giant tree system with branches cascading down to smaller and smaller branches, all replicating millions of times, over millions of years, and eventually touching everything.”  Neely stopped mid-thought.  “Have you ever heard the old Albert Einstein quote that, ‘God doesn’t play dice with the universe?’”

“I don’t think so.”

“Einstein was troubled by the apparent randomness of the universe and came to believe that there had to be some underlying, hidden law to explain why what appeared to be random actually wasn’t.  Most of his thinking had to do with particles and things like that.  But it still begs the question: does God play dice?”

“When you say dice are you talking about
chance
?”

“Yes, exactly.”  Neely nodded.  “Regardless of a person’s fundamental religious belief, if we step back and ask ourselves that question, most people have to acknowledge that the answer is yes.  At least to a large extent.”

Alison looked confused and put her own cup down.  “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“Okay, look.  Let’s say half the population believes that life is
designed
, while the other half believes it simply evolves.  Evolution being the randomness, or
chance,
that Einstein struggled with.”

“Okay.”

“So here’s the rub.  If I didn’t believe the world was created by chance, then why does the entire planet currently
operate
on chance, including virtually every form of life on it?”

“Life runs on chance?”

“Yes!  Think about it.  Each tree, plant, and even grass all release millions of seeds and billions of pollen over their lifetime in the hope of reproducing, or spreading.  This happens every day all over the planet.  Animals and insects do the same.  Even with humans, females produce hundreds of eggs and males produce billions of sperm, all for the
chance
of reproduction.  It’s the same everywhere to varying degrees.  Almost all life on planet Earth operates under the rules of chance.”

Alison stared at Neely.  “Wow!”

“Right?  Anyway, I didn’t bring that up to get on a soapbox.  I personally believe in God, but I think there are some big gaps in the explanation.  Those who believe in intelligent design might argue the chance factor was
part
of the design, which is a valid point.  What I’m trying to say is this: when you consider the sheer magnitude chance plays in our world, and the genetic cross-pollination that’s been going on for millions of years, is it any surprise that much of our DNA is the same?”

“Well, humans had to start somewhere, right?”

“I don’t just mean humans, Alison.  I mean ALL life.  All life on the planet shares a LOT of DNA.”

Alison nodded.  “Like humans and primates.”

“Correct.  But the genetic picture is even bigger.  Our closest DNA relative is the chimpanzee.  Did you know that of the three billion basepairs in the human genome, we share 99% of those with chimpanzees?”

“Wow.  I didn’t know it was that high.”

“Most people don’t.  But this is where it gets interesting.  We also share 97% of our DNA with all other apes, and we share 93% with mice.”

“Mice?!”

Neely nodded.  “Mice.  And if you keep going down the line, you’ll find that we share over 50% of our DNA with a banana.”

Alison’s eyes widened.  “What?  That can’t be right.”

“It is,” Neely smiled.  “Now stay with me.  I’m about to explain why I started this.  If life’s reproduction processes operate by mathematical chance, and its DNA is like a giant tree branching out over the planet for millions of years, leading us to now share much of what we are genetically…
then how different do you think we really are from dolphins
?”

Alison eased herself back into the chair with eyes still fixed on Neely.

“Alison, Sally said we used to be able to communicate.  And while I initially dismissed it, looking at it from strictly a genetic standpoint, does it still seem all that
impossible
?”

“No.”

“No,” agreed Neely.  “And here’s the kicker –– most of that shared DNA is considered junk.  Strands and basepairs that have long been deactivated through evolution.  And there’s no telling what they used to be used for.  What if some of those billions of old genes tied into some of our cognitive communication?  What if there were abilities that used to be active and we have simply
evolved out
of them?  In other words, what if we lost the ability through evolution but dolphins didn’t?”