The Valley of the Ancients Page 13

  ‘I suppose they might have shot them,’ said Clive. ‘That Chopper thug and his minders would shoot anything on sight. But I agree, it’s odd they didn’t mention it – and they didn’t warn us, come to that; they were pretending to be as nice as possible.’

  ‘Well, they wouldn’t need to warn us,’ said Helen, ‘because they knew we’d been here before. But your question, Clare, is very interesting and I think I know the answer.’

  She then told them that, on their previous visit, Lucy and Richard had left her and Julian behind in the crater because of her bad foot and then arranged for a plane to rescue them later.

  ‘Before Lucy left, however,’ she explained, ‘she instructed the animals to help us and protect us. She also told them – and this, I think, is crucial to what we are now discussing – that if ever another plane came they were to make themselves scarce.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Clive.

  ‘Because of the unique animals here. We knew a pilot would be coming to rescue us – the pilot you’ve just met as it happens – and we wanted to ensure that he didn’t see any bizarre animals that would alert him to the fact that this was a special place. When he came, the animals disappeared, as instructed, and everything worked as planned. The really interesting thing,’ she continued, ‘is that I think the animals remembered her instructions and when the so-called government plane arrived,’ she nodded to the other camp, ‘the animals moved away. They probably even think,’ she speculated, ‘that these people are somehow connected to Lucy – as we were – so they have effectively been under her protection all the time they’ve been here.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Clive, ‘that must be the explanation. They don’t know how lucky they are!’

  ‘… and, annoyingly, they never will,’ said Clare, casting a baleful look towards their camp. ‘They’re the last people on earth we’d let into our secret.’

  Helen followed Clare’s gaze. ‘I’d really love to know what they’ve got over there,’ she mused. ‘They obviously don’t want us anywhere near the place.’

  ‘Well, I’d be happy if they just leave us well alone,’ said Clare, ‘and I’ll feel a lot happier when the others are back. Talking of which,’ she said looking with a frown at the sun, rapidly getting lower in the sky, ‘shouldn’t they be back by now?’

  They all looked north to the central escarpment. The plane, which had still been buzzing to and fro along the range at the start of their conversation with Chopper, was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Maybe they’ve seen somewhere to land in the other valley and are stealing a march on us,’ said Clive.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Helen doubtfully, but none of them really thought it likely and as dusk fell they grew progressively more worried. Eventually Clare spoke.

  ‘Don’t you think,’ she said hesitantly, ‘that we should tell them what’s happened?’ She nodded to the other camp. ‘And ask for their help? They must have a plane.’

  Helen thought hard.

  ‘I know it’s awful not to do anything,’ she said at length, ‘but I think we should wait until tomorrow before we decide anything. It will be dark in a few minutes – the sun sets very quickly on the equator – so they can’t use their plane anyway and now we’re fairly certain that they’re lying to us my instinct is not to reveal to them that we are helpless and vulnerable.’

  And on this depressing note they went to bed, to spend a night frantic with worry about their loved ones.

  14

  A Helping Hoof from a Hosenose

  In the morning Clare was up at dawn. She had been thinking overnight and had a plan to share with the others. As they ate breakfast in the pink morning light she suggested that she and Clive went to the escarpment with the climbing equipment and rope ladders and looked to see if the lost group had managed to fix a rope onto the cliff before they went missing.

  ‘It’s a pity I can’t speak to Sophie,’ she said, ‘because she could help enormously, but she may twig we’re looking for something and help anyway. You should stay here, Helen – if you agree,’ she added somewhat apologetically, thinking she was sounding rather bossy, ‘in case the others try to contact us through the animals, and Queenie should stay with you. I’ll take a pencil and paper and send a message back with Sophie if there’s any news and you can send a message to us using Queenie if you have any news. Lucy’s told them to do whatever they think we want, and they’re pretty quick on the uptake.’

  ‘You sound just like your sister,’ said Helen, laughing, ‘but everything you say makes good sense and we should get on with it as soon as possible. Oh – and don’t forget to take your survival packs.’ When planning the expedition Helen had insisted that each member of the team should be equipped with a rucksack with a knife, torch, spare batteries, water, iron rations, anti-malarial drugs, antibiotics and other survival items, and she now gave a pack each to Clare and Clive.

  The most problematic items were the rope ladders. Richard had realized that to get into the other valley they would have to climb up and over a cliff that was at least two hundred feet high and so they had brought sixteen 25-foot ladders, enough when fixed together to see the non-mountaineers up the escarpment and down the other side. Each ladder weighed about 12 pounds, however and, though Clive was big and strong, he had his other climbing gear to carry – boots, ropes and pitons as well as his survival kit. He had always envisaged having Richard as his companion to assist him with the ladders. He immediately decided to take only half the ladders, a total of two hundred feet when tied together. The same ladder would have to be pulled up when they got to the top and used to get them down the other side. Even so, the load was going to be considerable.

  ‘Do you think you can carry some of these?’ he said to Clare, showing her the packs.

  ‘I’ll have to,’ she said simply.

  Helen helped them both to load up and then bade them a somewhat tearful farewell. As she trudged into the bush and looked at the distant escarpment Clare began to regret her bravado; her pack seemed to be growing heavier by the moment and she was wondering just how far she could manage to go without ditching something. At that moment Sophie, who had scampered off ahead with Kai on her back, returned accompanied by one of the strangest animals Clare and Clive had ever seen. It was a female, the size of a small camel with a body like a horse, a long neck and a long nose like a shortened elephant’s trunk. The macrauchenia knelt in front of the travellers. Her intention was unmistakable and the overburdened pair needed no further persuasion. They carefully strapped most of their equipment onto their willing beast of burden and then set off at twice their previous speed towards the cliff, which looked more formidable and menacing with every step they took.

  Suddenly the macrauchenia stopped and sniffed the air, her head raised, flanks trembling and muscles taut, ready to spring into action. Clare followed her gaze and at first could see nothing; then, to her horror she saw a sabre-toothed cat prowling towards them through the sparse bush. She was followed at a distance by two small cubs. As Clare watched the animal stopped, and dropped low to the ground in an unmistakable stalking stance, her actions immediately copied by her young. She heard an anguished snort from the macrauchenia and glanced at the terrified creature. She was obviously torn between her duty to the Promised One and her natural instincts which were telling her to flee for her life. Sophie sprang in front of Clare and started to approach the fearful predator. Clare saw that the brave monkey was trembling with fear and her tail was coiled forward round the baby on her back.

  ‘Greetings, O thee of the mighty fangs,’ Sophie said in the common tongue. ‘The gentle one with the three toes serves the sister of the Promised One. See, she flees not from thee.’

  ‘The nosekin shall be spared this day,’ the smilodon replied, ‘and my daughters shall one day tell their own daughters of the honour of this meeting.’ She turned to speak to her cubs who then bounded up like playful kittens to an astonished and somewhat apprehensive Clare, and started licking her and tugging at the
laces of her trainers. She saw that Sophie and the macrauchenia were relaxed and guessed, correctly, that the mother cat would not harm them and was now gaining tribal kudos for her cubs. After stroking and cuddling the little creatures she reluctantly tore herself away and the party continued its trek towards the looming crags of the central range.

  They crossed the central river using as a bridge the same fallen tree that Clive’s mother and father had used on their journey to the escarpment eighteen months earlier, and reached the cliff just before midday. Sophie went to fetch them fresh fruit and they drank crystal-clear water from a rivulet flowing down the cliff face. As luck would have it the central escarpment on their left, the west, curved gently round to the south so they had a clear view for a considerable distance. Scanning it with his binoculars Clive could see no rope so decided that, if the flying team had been successful in securing a rope to the escarpment, it must be to their right where the cliff face was hidden from view at several points.

  Soon Sophie returned with the food and they sat in the shade of a tree and had their lunch. They were about to set off when Clive suddenly had an idea. Lucy had said the monkeys were both intelligent and helpful, and this seemed a perfect opportunity to use Sophie’s skills. He reached up on to the back of the macrauchenia who had been patiently grazing during the rest stop and unhitched a coil of rope from his climbing equipment. He showed it to Sophie who held it in her paws and sniffed at it with interest. Clive took the rope back and held it at shoulder height against the cliff, letting a loop unravel and fall vertically to the ground while Clare watched the little pantomime with an amused smile. Clive then pointed east along the cliff, pointed back to the hanging rope and then gestured to Sophie to go along the cliff. She looked at him, at the rope, and along the cliff several times, then suddenly she gave a little squeak and scampered off.

  ‘Good Lord!’ said Clive, ‘I really think she’s twigged!’

  Sophie found the rope a few hundred yards along the cliff and turned to rejoin the others. As she did so she was confronted by a large monkey, a male who was at least twice her size and who looked rather fierce. Behind him she could discern the shapes of others in the trees and bushes and knew it was useless to attempt to escape. She sat down submissively and spoke to the stranger.

  ‘Greetings,’ she started somewhat timorously. She spoke in the common tongue in case he didn’t use the same dialect as modern monkeys. ‘I am here at the behest of the Promised One.’ The other monkey was taken aback.

  ‘And greetings to thee and thy young!’ he eventually replied in true monkey speech. To Sophie’s ears it sounded old-fashioned and rough but she could understand it. As he spoke, the other monkeys emerged and gathered round to listen. There was a chatter of excitement as the news spread through the troop that an emissary of the Promised One was present.

  ‘We will assist thee in any way thou desirest,’ he continued gravely, ‘for it is said that hitherto others in the valley have done so and now the time has come for our kin to be so honoured. Whither goest thou?’

  ‘Thank you!’ replied Sophie with great relief. ‘On this quest I serve the kin of the Promised One and we think that she and others of her kin lie beyond the mighty rock.’ She pointed to the escarpment. ‘Is there a passage through to the other side?’

  ‘There is a cave in the cliff back along to where the Brilliant One sleeps,’ the other replied. ‘Within that dark place there are two ways. One leads up inside to the top of the mountain whence, it is said, one can see as far as the fledgiquill flies in every direction to the skysill. If the Promised One is on the other side, thou wilt surely see her from that high place!’

  ‘And the other?’ asked Sophie. ‘The other path; does that go through?’

  ‘It might,’ said the monkey, ‘but no one knows, for no creature that has entered therein has ever come out again. If thou takest the kin of the Promised One into that cave thou must take care to choose the right path lest ye both perish.’

  Sophie thanked him and was turning to leave when he spoke again.

  ‘One other thing. We came to this place because we saw the liana on the great rock.’He indicated the rope hanging down the cliff face. ‘And as we drew nigh near we saw one of thine own kin – an arborikin – climbing down. By the time we reached her she had gone.’

  Sophie was in a quandary. Clio must be on her way back to the camp. Should she follow her and learn what had become of Lucy and the others? No, she decided, her first duty was to assist the kin of the Promised One. She sped back to the others, who were sitting in the shade of a tree eagerly awaiting her return. She was then faced with a second dilemma: should she just forget about the rope and take them to the cave? She was intensely frustrated that neither of them could speak in the common tongue. She decided that she must tell Clive where the rope was; that, after all, was the reason she had been sent on her mission. She would take Clare to the cave.

  She first went to Clive and gently pulled him until he stood up, then she tugged him to the east in the direction from which she had just come. She looked excited and he had little doubt that she had located the rope. As Clare got up to join him and they started to move off, however, Sophie clutched at her shorts and tried to pull her in the opposite direction.

  ‘What do you want, Sophie?’ Clare asked with a bemused smile, but of course the monkey couldn’t reply; she just tugged harder for Clare to follow her.

  ‘She seems very determined,’ Clare said to Clive, now with a slightly worried frown on her face. ‘What should we do? Everything Lucy and Dad have told me about the monkeys makes me feel we should take her advice.’

  ‘I think you’re right,’ said Clive. ‘Much as I hate splitting up, I think I should go to the rope – she’s obviously found it – and get the rope ladders in place. Whatever has happened, that must be a good thing to do. You go with Sophie who, I’m sure, will keep you safe and she can lead you back to the rope after you’ve seen what she wants you to see.’ And so it was agreed.

  Clive trekked off to find the rope, the macrauchenia following him burdened with the rope ladders and climbing equipment. Clare picked up the survival rucksack that Helen had insisted she took and went west in the opposite direction, following Sophie.

  Soon they came to a cave which was, as far as Clare could see, the only interruption in the smooth cliff face. The monkey led her unhesitatingly towards it. It was pitch black and very scary but she reassured herself with the thought that in this valley, as the sister of the Promised One, she was safe from all creatures.

  How dreadfully wrong she was.

  15

  Perfidious Plans and Pleistocene Post

  After Clare and Clive had left, Helen began to feel very nervous. She had agreed to Clare’s plan, which made good sense, but now that she was alone the situation she was in seemed much more threatening. Although she had put on a brave face for the young ones she knew in her heart of hearts that Julian and the others were almost certainly dead, and now she began to wonder if she would ever see any of them again. She sat down and began to weep. Queenie looked very perturbed and came and stroked Helen’s hand as if to console her. Helen smiled through her tears and gave the animal a hug.

  ‘You’re right, Queenie,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to carry on, however black things seem.’ And she got up and started to tidy up the tents.

  Over in the other camp the villains were just starting their breakfast. When they had finished the professor went to his laboratory as usual, ostensibly to make more suits but in reality to set in action a plan he had devised a long time ago for just this situation. First he opened the tin box that Chopper had referred to. He had made no secret of it and they had fallen neatly into his trap. He carefully attached minute direction finders inside the energizer units of each suit and switched them on. He had made them himself and they would continue emitting signals for at least three months. He wasn’t sure if they would operate in this strange valley where radios didn’t work, but it couldn’t do
any harm to have an extra possible way of checking on what Chopper might get up to, and the devices would certainly be effective if anyone ever took a suit out of the valley. Then, he removed the disk from the tin box, put it in the computer and modified it. He was too clever to wipe it completely: although he regarded Chopper and Sam as complete buffoons, he had considerable respect for the intellectual abilities of the pilot. He simply changed the data in such a way that nobody could ever use it to succeed in making an invisibility suit and then replaced it in the tin box. Next, he transferred all the information on his hard drive onto back-up disks which he then took back to his cabin. There, he shifted the packing case that served as a makeshift table, took up a floorboard and removed a box. Emblazoned boldly on the front and sides was the international symbol for radioactivity. There was nothing radioactive in the box but, over the years, the professor had found that there was no surer technique than this of preventing people from looking into places that he did not want them to look. He opened the box, removed his own invisibility suit, and put the disks in next to the gun nestling there. A few seconds later, invisible, he slipped out and went to sit on a log near the other three who were sitting outside on camp chairs drinking coffee and smoking.

  As he rejoined them Chopper was pointing to the other camp where, in the distance, Helen could be seen rolling up the tent sides. On his face was an expression that, Luke now knew, meant that Chopper’s unerring primitive survival instincts had been aroused.

  ‘Where are the kids?’ he exclaimed. The others looked, and Sam got out a pair of binoculars.

  ‘They’ve gone!’ he said. ‘There’s just that older bird and a monkey – you know, one of those things you said I was imagining until it nearly bit your hand off.’ Even Chopper had to give a shamefaced grin; Sam was the only person on earth who could speak to Chopper like that and live to tell the tale. He looked again, more intently. ‘You’re really not going to believe this,’ he said, slowly, ‘but it’s wearing bloody glasses!’