6. The Llama and the Atom
Challenger shifted position trying to find some relief for his throbbing ankle. He wished he was in the treehouse applying ice to the injury. That would make short shrift of the annoying sprain. He was very enthusiastic about the use of ice massage for joint trauma. After it had proven so effective in treating Marguerite’s injury, he had written some notes in his journal. He propped his leg up on a nearby log and leaned back to find a comfortable place to rest. It would be a long day.
Challenger was startled from the light doze he had fallen into by the sound of whistling. He eased his rifle to the ready and peered toward the cheerful sound. He saw a middle-aged fellow dressed in a cotton tropical-weight hunting jacket and pith helmet. The man wore a pince-nez and sported an enormous moustache that completely covered his upper lip. George Challenger recognized him immediately and rose awkwardly to a stand.
“Max Planck. Professor Planck.” The whistling stopped as the European turned toward him.
“Challenger? George Challenger?” The scientist strode toward the hobbled professor and took his hand in a firm grip. “Mein Gott. I’m surprised to see you alive. I had heard you were lost in the Amazon, killed by cannibals.”
“Mother of science,” spluttered the red-haired Englishman. “What has brought one of the pre-eminent physicists from Berlin to this lonely corner of the world?”
“Well, science of course, professor. What else beckons learned men into the wilderness? And you, have you garnered enough evidence of the existence of your beloved dinosaurs?”
“It would certainly be an honour to have someone like you support my findings.” Challenger’s eyes shone at the possibility. “But I wouldn’t have thought that you’d be able to conduct any of your own experiments here in the wilderness.”
“No, of course not. Thermodynamics and radiation are best studied in the lab. But there are practical applications to be considered.”
Challenger frowned in sudden remembrance. “Indeed there are. Profound ones. I had the misfortune of encountering Lionel Holt on this plateau. I’m afraid he had used his fine mind to create an instrument of destruction –a uranium engine.
“Ah yes, Lionel. I talked to him a while ago about the nature of the atom, especially the radioactive atom.”
“Recently? Here on the plateau?” responded Challenger, dumbfounded.
“Why yes, he was far from a solution until I gave him a few suggestions. Some of his research overlapped my own.” The German scientist looked around at their surroundings. “What on earth are you doing out here, professor? Are you alone?”
“Actually, I was with a young lady, but I turned my ankle and sent her on ahead. She was in a hurry to return to her home. We fear it will be attacked.”
“Then, sir, you can’t stay out here alone. You must join us. If I give you a hand do you think you can make your way five hundred meters or so to my residence? There’s someone there I know you’ll want to meet.”
Supported by the German scientist’s shoulder, George limped along beside him. After a few steps, the pain subsided somewhat and he voiced the question that had been nagging him.
“I must say, Professor Planck that you are looking remarkably well. I first heard one of your lectures after you published your ground-breaking research on dark-body radiation, 1900 I think it was. You haven’t aged a bit. What is your secret?”
“Good genes. All my family are very hardy. And what of you, professor, have you any children?”
Challenger felt his curiosity change to regret as his thoughts turned to the family he’d never had and of the wife that waited for him so very far away. He had found himself thinking of Jessie more frequently these days, wondering if she thought him dead by now.
The two scientists made their slow way through the ruins of the ancient city, making sure they didn’t stumble on the vine-covered paths.
“Not far now,” encouraged Planck.
Challenger looked up to see a fenced-in area containing a half-dozen llamas, their thick fur ranging in colour from grey to peach to brown. A large reddish-coloured male stepped forward and stretched his long neck over the fence toward the approaching humans.
“Are these yours?” asked Challenger.
“Yes, we use them for pack animals.”
“One doesn’t often see them in the lowlands. A noble breed, honoured by the Incans as a source of food and clothing as well as being beasts of burden. Male llamas were often sacrificed to the gods.
“Only when there were no young virgins, I expect,” replied the German with a chuckle.
“Did you know that the unique shape of the llama was so appreciated by the Incans that long necks were considered the most beautiful feature of a woman.”
“Really, professor, I never knew. I’m afraid to me llamas are like goats or donkeys – with a nasty habit of spitting when they don’t want to do any work.”
“This one here appears to be eager at least.” Indeed the ginger-coloured Llama gazed alertly at the scientists, seemingly intrigued by the new arrival.
“Come inside. We’ll have a look at that ankle of yours.”
“I’m afraid what I need is ice, a commodity hard to find in the tropics.”
“We have ice. I recognized very early on that our stay in this tropical climate would necessitate a refrigeration apparatus. A simple application of thermodynamics and basic electricity.”
“Well – yes. Simple.” Challenger was chagrined to hear that Planck had also invented a freezing device. The offhand tone the German had used cast a pall on the ingenuity of Challenger’s own creation.
The two went up the stairs of a large fieldstone habitation. The vines had been cleared from the entryway. Inside a line of electric lights had been rigged along the ceiling beams, casting a harsh glare in the centre of the room, fading to dimness at the edges. The room was outfitted as a living and dining area. The German scientist eased his British counterpart into a chair, removed the leather gaiter and loosened his bootlaces. He went away to a corner which served as a kitchen and came back with a tied square of rubber filled with ice. He used the butt of his revolver to crush the chunks into a more malleable form and placed the ice pack on Challenger’s swollen ankle.
.
They talked companionably for a time, Planck brewing and serving a pot of tea. Challenger chatted about his discoveries and inventions to his avid listener. When Challenger quizzed Planck about his research, the man remained evasive, saying only that they would take a look at his lab when they finished their tea.
“And where is this fellow that you suggested I’d like to meet?”
“My partner’s getting on in years. He rests in the afternoon. I’m sure he’ll join us soon.”
Their tea finished, Challenger placed the empty cup on the rough wooden table and removed the ice pack from his foot. He flexed the joint experimentally and unfolded his lanky frame to a stand.
“That’s a good deal better.” He retied his boot and placed the gaiter in his pack. “Now let’s see this lab of yours.”
They walked through the room to another exit. A few metres beyond a stepped pyramid rose thirty feet into the air. They entered the cavernous building. Here as well, a few electric bulbs cast a feeble light into the gloom. As Challenger’s eyes adjusted, he saw a wide stairway leading down into a somewhat smaller room over twenty feet below. A large machine dominated the lower area, twenty feet high and almost as wide. The Englishman recognized the design from his earlier adventure miles below the earth’s crust.
“Good heavens. A uranium engine. What are you doing with that?” the red-head asked suspiciously.
“George, what do you think –that I’m another Holt, bent on petty revenge? No this is about science – pure and simple. It is too difficult to explore the awesome power of the atom when hemmed in by the small-minded laws of ‘civilized society’. We are doing great things here – revolutionizing the laws of physics. Since Newton’s day we have been leashed to a finite vision of the universe. What I propose is a leap of knowledge – a universe that is subject to instantaneous change at the most minute level – the quantum. Mark my words, Challenger, my research will set the world of science on its ear.”
His pale face shone as he spoke, lit by the fanatical dedication to his studies that George Edward Challenger knew only too well. He felt his own excitement rise, whatever his initial misgivings might have been.
“Well, show me then, Planck.”
The German physicist demonstrated the various vacuum tubes and energy acceleration devices that were necessary to divide the atom into its component parts.
“In this area pitchblende is plentiful and I’ve even come into possession of a small amount of iridium. I think radium will be the key, however.”
Challenger examined the huge engine that drove the accelerator.
“You know, Planck, that I was able to boost the output of Lionel’s particle accelerator. I’m sure I could do the same for your device.” The passionate scientist was caught up in the importance of the possibilities of this research.
They talked mathematics, at both the largest and smallest dimensions for a while until the magnitude of the kinetic energy that would be generated in a successful test sunk into Challenger’s brain. He looked around in consternation.
“Your device has not nearly enough shielding. Holt’s engine was miles below the surface and the shockwave still caused quakes and destruction on the surface. If your calculations are correct, the ensuing explosion would destroy this place and the entire plateau around it.”
“Really Challenger, you worry too much. I believe that a balloon about five miles away would be in a position to observe the reaction without significant danger. The prevailing winds will blow whatever radiation is generated to the west. It will be a valuable contribution to science – to the future of mankind.”
“But there are thousands of people on the plateau, other unique creatures never to be found anywhere else in the world. You can’t destroy this world.”
“Sacrifices must be made, professor. Sacrifices must be made.”
Challenger felt a chill creep over him. Once again a respected scientist had leapt the bounds of ethics and propriety to pursue the clarion call of discovery. Was it the plateau that changed these men or was it that only zealots and crackpots were drawn to the ends of the earth in order to pursue their dangerous dreams? For the sake of science, he had to talk the Berliner out of his insane scheme.
“Look here, Planck. You can’t do this. Science is meant for the betterment of society. This kind of massive destruction can never be justified.”
“But, George, may I call you George, you must realize that science is beyond society. We must keep our eyes on the future. If my theories are correct – and scientists as respected as Einstein and Bors believe they are –, we may soon understand the forces that created this planet, this universe. We will see the face of God as it were.”
“But the world is not yet ready for a creation as powerful as this one. We have seen in the Great War the destructive uses to which scientific and technological advances may be put.”
Planck shrugged. “I see that you have totally lost your passion for science, Challenger. As a young physicist, you were seen as the logical successor to the great Clerk Maxwell. Then on a whim you changed your focus to palaeontology. What was that if not an ego-serving grab for fame? You gave up true science a long time ago, Challenger. What have you accomplished on this plateau? Gizmos and gadgets –more worthy of someone like Edison, always pandering to the popular taste. Your words have no meaning to a real scientist.”
Challenger was speechless with shock. He was taken back to a time in his life when Planck’s words would have rung true. That was when science looked like his ticket to fame and a secure future. How much he had changed. At first there was the singular pursuit of an obsessive goal, but more recently his outlook had shifted because of his changing role. No longer the lone wolf of science, now he was the leader of an expedition, responsible for a group of people he had come to care for. Had he, indeed lost his true faith – the search for a rational explanation for the workings of the world?
Planck took Challenger’s silence as tacit agreement.
“George, come back to science. Work with me on this project - with me and your old hero.”
“I don’t think I can, Herr Planck.”
The light baritone of an old man spoke behind him.
“George Challenger, I wondered when you would join us.”
Challenger turned to see a man in his seventies, with a full beard and thinning hair. Once again there was no doubt as to the man’s identity. This famous scientist had formulated the earth-shaking theories that had drawn a young Challenger and most other promising young scientists of the time to physics. He was the man who proved that light was just one type of electro-magnetic radiation. A legend of science. A man who had been dead for forty years!
“James Clerk Maxwell. But you’re – you’re dead.”
The old man smiled at Challenger’s confusion. “Well, yes I am dead. In England. But this is quite a magical place. Here I am very much alive.”
Suddenly realization flooded in on Challenger. None of this was real. No wonder Planck looked like a young man when he must be at least sixty. He looked back from one to the other. “Salish, it’s you, isn’t it?”
With a shimmer of light, Planck transformed into the guise of Salish, the phoney shaman Challenger had first met. Beside Salish a swirl of black smoke revealed the Spectre dressed in his ankle-length cassock now standing in the place of the older scientist.
“Why have you put on this wretched masquerade? Why have you tricked me?” cried the infuriated scientist.
“Just a little test,” replied Salish, “to see how committed you are to this science you talk about.”
“Why would you need to test that? I could have told you that I am steadfast in my dedication. Science is my lodestar, my Holy Grail.”
Black Robe allowed a smirk to cross his face. “Is it now? It seems to me that it had been your Lilith, your Delilah, leading you away from the purity of true research to the trivial and the maudlin. No matter. We have seen enough.”
“You wear a cassock and cross. Do you purport yourself to be an agent of the Christian God?” Challenger asked the Spectre in indignation.
“Oh no, quite the contrary. I prefer to wear black, you see and that has long been the colour of ecclesiastic garb. Then, when I first visited North America it seemed wise to wear the costume of the Jesuit priests so trusted by the native tribes. It made it easier to accomplish my plans.”
“What do you intend to do now that I have seen through your play-acting?
“Nothing,” chuckled Raven. “We just were curious to see what you would do. We’ll soon be on our way.”
He was interrupted by the man in the black robe. “Actually, I have had second thoughts about that. It would be best if you did not bring your disappointing sentimentality to the final test.”
Black Robe reached for his pistol; in his human form, he required a weapon to wreak his havoc. The scientist wheeled, knocking a surprised-looking Salish back a few steps. Challenger raced for the exit as quickly as his injured leg would take him. A shot rang off the stone wall before him; stone chips grazed his cheek as he emerged into the daylight. He hurried back through the first building, noting vaguely that the furnishings had disappeared. His pack lay on the vine-covered floor. Challenger snatched it up, grabbed his rifle and continued to run. His limp was getting worse.
He hesitated briefly as he left the fieldstone building. The herd of llamas stirred restlessly in their pen. Suddenly the big ginger male gathered itself and leapt the fence. It trotted up beside him. Challenger grabbed a fistful of wool and vaulted aboard. The Llama’s peculiar gait and protruding backbone made every step an agony for the breathless scientist. The sure-footed beast picked its way up through the fallen boulders to the higher land above. After ten minutes of jarring progress, the Llama stopped by a rocky hillside. The Englishman slipped off its back, the pain in his ankle flaring up as he landed. Off-balance he lurched into the sturdy beast. The animal’s head turned toward him, ears twitching forward, intelligent brown eyes fixed on his.
The Llama stepped forward, Challenger clinging to its side to avoid falling. When it stopped, the professor saw the dark opening to a cave. He patted the neck of the tall animal, muttered a thank you and slapped its rump. The Llama bounded away as Challenger crouched to enter the hidden lair. He sat in the gloom as the sun set outside of his refuge. He dared not risk a fire so took the blanket from his pack and made himself as comfortable as he could. Despite the questions that chased through his confused brain, he soon fell into an exhausted slumber.
Salish and Black Robe called off the search as the sky grew dark. Raven, in his guise as an old man, asked the Spectre. “I thought we were here to test these people, to see if they were worthy, to tempt them if they were weak. You didn’t tell me you were planning to kill them.”
“Let’s just say, I have a vested interest in the outcome. I have grave doubts that these people will make the right choice when faced with the upcoming decision. ”
“The Incan gods warned us about interfering. They are very powerful and no doubt they are watching. How else do you think an old man with a bad leg got away? If the gods become angry with us, we could die in an instant.”
“Bah, they don’t care what happens.” the Spectre scoffed, “Like they said, no matter what, they will still be here. Now let’s get out of here.”
Once again, a glimmer of light and a haze of smoke presaged the flight of a black bird with a shadowy Spectre on the wing. Raven felt a great fear as he flew. He didn’t know who was more dangerous to his survival, the angry Incan gods or the demon on his wing.