City of the Beasts (9 page)

"Who's there," the captain asked quietly, not lifting his voice in order not to wake the people sleeping in the hotel.

Silence.

"Let's go, Ariosto," ordered Carías.

The soldier again swept his flashlight around the room, then both men retreated to the stairs that led to the street, still holding their guns. A couple of minutes went by before the two friends felt they could move without revealing their presence. By then, the snake was around Alex's calf; its head had reached the level of his knee and sweat was pouring down his torso. Nadia pulled off her T-shirt, wrapped it around her right hand, and very cautiously seized the snake just behind the head. Immediately Alex felt the serpent's coils tighten, and it whipped its tail furiously, but the girl held it firmly and unhurriedly started unwinding it from her new friend's leg until it was free and the snake was dangling from her hand. She swung her arm like the blade of a windmill, faster and faster, and launched the snake over the banister of the terrace, into the darkness. Then she put her shirt back on, all with great calm.

"Was it poisonous?" Alex asked as soon as he could get the words out.

"Yes, I think it was a
surucucú
, but it wasn't very big. Its mouth was still small and it couldn't open its jaws very far; it might have bitten a finger, but not a leg," Nadia replied. Then she translated what Carías and Ariosto had been saying.

"What do you think those awful men are up to? What can we do?" the girl asked.

"I don't know. The only thing that occurs to me is to tell my grandmother, but I don't know whether she would believe me. She says that I'm paranoid, and that I see enemies and dangers everywhere."

"For the moment, Alex, we can only wait and watch," Nadia concluded.

The young people went back to their hammocks. Alex was drained and fell straight to sleep. He awakened at dawn to the deafening howls of the monkeys. He was so starved that he would gladly have eaten his father's pancakes, but there was nothing at hand and he had to wait two hours until his traveling companions were ready for breakfast. He was offered black coffee, warm beer, and the cold leftovers of the tapir from the previous night. He refused it all, repulsed. He had never seen a tapir, but he imagined that it looked something like a huge rat. He would get a surprise a few days later when he learned that a tapir is an animal that weighs more than two hundred pounds and resembles a pig, and is greatly prized for its meat. He tried a
plátano
, but it was very bitter and left a harsh taste on his tongue; he found out later that though it looked like a banana, it had to be cooked to be eaten. Nadia, who had gone out early to swim in the river with the other girls, came back with a fresh flower over one ear and the same green feather in the lobe of the other. Borobá's arms were around her neck and she was carrying half a pineapple in her hand. Alex had read that the only safe fruit in tropical countries is something you peel yourself, but he decided that the risk of contracting typhus was preferable to malnutrition. Grateful, he devoured the pineapple she offered him.

César Santos appeared moments later, as clean and fresh as his daughter, inviting the sweaty members of the expedition to take a dip in the river. Everyone followed except Professor Leblanc, who ordered Karakawe to bring several buckets of water so he could bathe on the terrace; he was not attracted to the idea of swimming in the company of manta rays. Some were the size of a carpet, and their powerful tails not only cut like saws but also injected venom. Alex considered that after his experience with the snake the night before, he would not be daunted by the risk of bumping into a fish, no matter how bad its reputation. He dove headfirst into the water.

"If you're attacked by a manta ray, it means that these waters aren't for you," was the only comment from his grandmother, who went off with the women to bathe in a different area.

"Mantas are shy, and live on the bed of the river. Usually they scurry away when they see something moving in the water, but it's best to drag your feet as you walk in order not to step on them," César Santos instructed.

The swim was delicious, and left Alex feeling cool and clean.

CHAPTER SEVEN
The Black Jaguar

BEFORE SETTING OUT, the members of the expedition were invited to the camp of Mauro Carías. Dr. Omayra Torres excused herself, saying that she had to send the young Mormons back to Manaus on an army helicopter because they were sicker than before. The camp consisted of several trailers that had been transported by helicopter and set up in a circle in a clearing about a mile from Santa María de la Lluvia. The units were luxurious compared to the zinc-roofed huts in the village. The compound was equipped with an electric generator, a radio tower, and solar energy panels.

Carías had similar retreats at strategic points along the Amazon, from which he could oversee his many business dealings, from timber harvesting to gold mining, but he lived some distance away. It was said that he had princely mansions in Caracas, Rio de Janeiro, and Miami, and that he kept a wife in each city. He traveled in his own jet and a small plane, and he also had access to army vehicles, which certain friendly generals placed at his disposal. In Santa María de la Lluvia there was no airstrip large enough to land his jet, so he used his biplane, which, compared to the one César Santos flew, a rusty little tin can, looked supersonic. Kate noticed that the camp was surrounded by electric fences and by numerous guards.

"What can this man own that requires such heavy guards?" she commented to her grandson.

Mauro Carías was one of the few adventurers who had become rich in the Amazon. Thousands and thousands of
garimpeiros
went deep into the jungle, on foot and by canoe, to look for gold mines and beds of diamonds, slashing their way through the vegetation with machetes, devoured by ants, leeches, and mosquitoes. Many died of malaria, some from gunshots, still others from hunger and loneliness. Their bodies rotted in unmarked graves or were eaten by scavengers.

It was said that Carías had made his start with chickens, that he set them loose in the jungle and then split open their craws to retrieve the nuggets of gold the wretched fowls had swallowed. That story, however, like so much of the gossip about the man's past, must have been an exaggeration, because in truth gold was not scattered across the soil of the Amazon like kernels of corn. In any case, Carías never had to risk his health like the miserable
garimpeiros
, because he had good connections and a nose for business. He knew how to give orders and command respect; what he didn't get through legal means, he obtained by force. Many people whispered behind his back that he was a criminal, but no one dared say that to his face, and it was never proved that he had blood on his hands. There was nothing threatening or suspicious about his looks; he was a pleasant, good-looking, tan-skinned man with well-kept hands and flashing white teeth, always dressed in expensive sports clothes. His voice was melodious, and he looked you straight in the eye when he spoke, as if he wanted to prove his openness with every word.

This Amazon entrepreneur received the members of the
International Geographic
expedition in one of his trailers, decorated as a living room, with comforts that didn't exist in the village. Two attractive young women served drinks and lighted cigars, but never said a word. Alex supposed they didn't speak English. They reminded him of Morgana, the girl who had stolen his backpack in New York, because they had the same insolent attitude. He blushed when he thought about Morgana, and asked himself again how he could have been so foolish. The two girls were the only women he saw in Carías's camp; the other employees were men armed to the teeth. Their host offered them a delicious lunch of cheeses, cold meats, shellfish, fruit, ice cream, and other luxuries flown in from Caracas. For the first time since he had left his own country, Alex was able to eat to his liking.

"It appears that you know this region very well, Santos," Mauro Carías said to their guide. "How long have you lived here?"

"All my life. I couldn't live anywhere else," he replied.

"I've been told that your wife fell ill here. I'm very sorry to hear that… It doesn't surprise me; not many foreigners can survive in this isolation and this climate. And your little girl? She doesn't go to school?" Carías reached out to pat Nadia, but Borobá bared his teeth.

"I don't have to go to school. I know how to read and write," Nadia said emphatically.

"And that's all you need to know, sweetie." Carías smiled.

"Nadia knows the natural world, and she speaks English, Spanish, Portuguese, and several of the Indian tongues," her father added.

"What is that you're wearing around your neck, sweetie?" Carías asked in an affectionate tone.

"My name is Nadia," she said.

"Show me your necklace, Nadia." The entrepreneur host smiled, showing his perfect teeth.

"It's magic, I can't take it off."

"Would you like to sell it? I'll buy it," Mauro Carías said teasingly.

"No!" Nadia said, stepping back.

César Santos interrupted to apologize for the prickly behavior of his daughter. He was surprised that this very important man would waste time joking with a little girl. In the past, no one had ever noticed Nadia, but in recent months, his daughter was beginning to attract attention, and that did not please him at all. Mauro Carías commented that if the girl had lived her whole life in the Amazon, she was not prepared for society, and what did her future hold? She seemed very bright, he said, and with a proper education she could go far. He even offered to take her back with him to the city, where he could send her to school and make a little lady of her, which was as it should be.

"I can't give up my daughter, but I thank you, anyway," Santos replied.

"Think it over, hombre. I'd be like her godfather," Carías added.

"I can talk with animals, too," Nadia interrupted.

Most of those present laughed at what she had said. The only ones who didn't were her father, Alex, and Kate.

"If you can talk with the animals, maybe you can act as my interpreter with one of my pets," the entrepreneur said, and in mellow tones invited them all to come along with him.

They followed Mauro Carías to the patio formed by the circle of trailers; in the center was an improvised cage constructed of poles and chicken wire. In the cage, a large cat was pacing with the crazed agitation of a wild beast in captivity. It was a black jaguar with a lustrous pelt and hypnotic topaz-colored eyes, one of the most handsome examples ever seen in the area. The minute Borobá glimpsed the jaguar, he screeched, leaped from Nadia's shoulder, and loped off at top speed with the girl close behind, calling him in vain. Alex was surprised, because it was the first time he had seen the monkey part from its owner voluntarily. The photographers immediately focused their lenses on the cat, and even Kate pulled her small automatic camera from her bag. Professor Leblanc stood back at a prudent distance.

"Black jaguars are the most feared animals in South

America. They do not back off from anything; they have great courage," said Carías.

"If you admire it so, why don't you set it free?" César Santos asked. "This poor cat would be better dead than captive."

"Free it? No, hombre! Not a chance. I have a small zoo at my home in Rio de Janeiro. I'm just waiting for a proper cage to send the cat there."

Alex had moved up close, as if in a trance, fascinated by the sight of that great feline. His grandmother called a warning that he didn't hear, and he kept going closer, until both hands were touching the wire that separated him from the animal. The jaguar stopped pacing, emitted a deep growl, and fixed its yellow gaze on the human outside its cage. It froze in place, its muscles tense, its jet pelt quivering. Alex took off his glasses, which he had worn since he was seven years old, and dropped them on the ground. Cat and human were so close that Alex could distinguish each golden fleck in the pupils of the beast as their eyes locked in a silent dialogue. Everything faded away. Alex was alone, facing the animal on a vast amber plane surrounded by lofty black towers, beneath a white sky in which six transparent moons were floating like the heads of medusae. He saw the cat open its jaws, he saw the gleam of its enormous pearl-white teeth, and in a human voice, but one that seemed to issue from the depths of a cavern, it spoke his name: Alexander. And he answered in his own voice, but it, too, sounded cavernous: Jaguar. The cat and its counterpart repeated those words three times: Alexander, Jaguar; Alexander, Jaguar; Alexander, Jaguar, and then the sand of the plain became phosphorescent, the sky turned black, and the six moons began to whirl in their orbits and scatter like slow-moving comets.

In the meantime, Mauro Carías had issued an order, and one of his employees came dragging in a monkey with a rope around its neck. When it saw the jaguar, it had a reaction similar to Borobá's; it began to shriek and jump up and down and wave its arms, but it could not get free. Carías took it by the collar and, before anyone could guess his intention, he had opened the cage with a single precise movement and thrown the terrorized little animal inside.