“I believe you. But it’s not enough. The Amazon Basin is almost three million square miles.”
Gallo rolled her eyes. “You asked me to translate it for you.” She added emphasis to the word so there would be no mistaking the sarcasm. “To identify the location of the Amazon city, so that you would have a starting point. I’ve done that. You don’t need to know exactly where it is to figure out where he went next.”
Kenner glanced at the large television screen on the wall. Gallo wasn’t sure if he was looking to see if Tyndareus had further instructions, or if the look was meant to remind her that Kenner was not the final arbiter of her fate. “Without certain proof, we would be shooting in the dark.”
Gallo frowned and searched her memory for something that would convince him. “Carvajal described finding carvings of an elaborate walled city in several villages along the river, prior to that battle. The natives told him that the carvings were a symbol of their ruler, like a sort of national flag, and identified that ruler as ‘the mistress of the Amazons.’ The city was real.”
“If there is an Amazon city in the jungles of Brazil, why has no one ever found it?”
“It’s the jungle. You could walk within ten feet of a ruin and not see it. In the century following contact with the Spaniards, ninety percent of Brazil’s native population was dead from small pox and other diseases. The Amazons might have suffered the same fate. In fact, if they were concentrated in an urban center, they would have been even more vulnerable than smaller tribes in isolated villages.”
Kenner looked as if he wanted to believe, but he could not overcome his skepticism. “It’s not enough. We have to find that city. You have to find it.” He stood up. “We’re going to Brazil. I hope you can narrow it down a little before we head upriver.”
Gallo didn’t know where to begin. There was nothing in the Heracleia that even remotely approached the level of detail necessary for her to deduce an exact location for the ancient city, and she couldn’t even read the…
She turned back to the displayed image of the Amazon Queen’s belt, weighing the possible consequences of the choice before her. If she did this, she would be complicit in helping Kenner and Cerberus find a secret that Diotrephes had kept hidden for more than three millennia. But if she didn’t, both she and Fiona would suffer. She had no illusions about Tyndareus letting them go, but while they were alive, there was always a chance that they might be able to turn the tables on Cerberus. And she knew Pierce would never stop looking for them.
I have to buy more time, she decided.
“I have an idea,” she said finally. “But I’m going to need some help from Fiona.”
25
Monrovia, Liberia
The blue alcohol flame looked deceptively cool as Carter carefully set the old-fashioned Bunsen burner under the vent hood. A six-inch long sample of the vine, which had wiped out the forest village and nearly killed her and everyone else in her team, sat beside it.
She had gathered the specimen before leaving the forest, sealing it in a plastic bio-hazard bag. Even though she had taken great pains to ensure that there was no risk from the plant, she was not about to take any chances. Using two sets of forceps, she peeled back the plastic, exposing the vine to open air.
Instantly, three white tendrils, which had been coiled up beneath the slightly-wilted leaves, shot out like party streamers, all reaching for the burner. One of the shoots got close enough to touch the fuel reservoir under the burning wick. It stuck there, as if coated with an adhesive, the tip curling upward, reaching for the flame.
Then, something very strange happened. Without releasing its hold, the tendril began to recoil, pulling the plant closer to the burner.
Thermotaxis. Movement toward heat. That explained why the plant had seemed almost dormant during the hot day. After nightfall, it aggressively sought out new heat sources, including body heat.
Over the course of the next few minutes, the other tendrils latched on to the Bunsen burner, pulling the main stem closer still, until it was in contact with the glass fuel bottle. Meanwhile, the tips of the shoots reached so close to the flame that they were starting to blacken.
“So, you like the heat,” she muttered. “Even if it kills you.”
“Is that a good thing?” Pierce asked from the doorway.
Carter nodded as he stepped into the lab, and then she smiled to Lazarus, who filed in behind Pierce.
The big man returned the smile. Carter felt a lightness in her heart whenever she saw him smile. It didn’t happen often.