Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) (2 page)

"How could they have moved so quickly?" Nathan
wondered aloud as he looked for some sign of the tribe on the horizon.

"Maybe they don't have a need to carry every
single belonging with them when they travel, unlike some people I know," Alex
replied. "Was the guitar absolutely vital?"

"Alexandra, give it a rest," Nathan said.

Alex glowered at him and opened her mouth to
retort when Nathan yelled, "Hey! Over there, see that dust? It must be them.
Why aren't they stopping? They can see us coming."

"Obviously, they don't want to talk to us.
Somebody must have done something to upset them," Alex said.

"If anybody upset them, Alex, it was you with
your constant questions about sexual promiscuity. Ow!" Nathan said as Alex
punched him in the arm. "Okay, okay, truce. We've got to figure this out. I
really don't want to end up on the receiving end of one of those spears." The
Kung hunted using spears tipped with poisoned arrows. The poison acted on the
central nervous system of the animal while hunters tracked it. The animal died
over a two-day period. Arrows were carefully guarded in camp to prevent
accidental poisoning of any tribal member.

"Nathan, you don't think they would attack us,
do you?" Alex asked, incredulous. "None of the researchers studying the Kung
have ever been attacked. Why, they are one of the most peaceful people on
earth!"

Brushing tousled, sun-bleached-blond hair back
from his forehead, Nathan shrugged and said, "I don't know. All I'm sure of is
this behavior we are witnessing today is not usual for them."

Tiknay heard the jeep's engine for several
minutes before it appeared. She knew it was pointless to try and avoid them,
but she wasn't sure what she could tell the two young white people. They came
from a culture different than hers, and their beliefs were not those of the
tribe. She knew they did not believe in the visions of her people; how would
they understand the changes that were coming? She joined the rest of the tribe
to discuss what should be done.

SNN Headquarters, Atlanta, Georgia

Maria stared at the plate of scrambled eggs with
cheese wrapped in a flour tortilla, salsa on the side. Her mother fixed this
breakfast for her almost every school day. They would sit together at the
Formica-topped kitchen table, her mother sipping the strong black coffee she
loved so much, and they would have "girl talk." Consuela Santiago was a
diminutive, lively woman, determined to see her daughter succeed in America.
She and Jorge, Maria's father, had immigrated to the U.S. from Mexico one year
before Maria's birth. She was their only child and they worked hard to give her
everything she would need to make her mark in the world. They still lived in
the suburb of Los Angeles where they had raised Maria.

"Oh Mama, where are you?" Maria said as she
dialed the number again and heard the recording say the lines were out of
order.

Cape Fair, Missouri

Behind the big stone house, the mountain peak
disappeared in a mass of dark clouds. A waterfall could be heard but not seen.
Harry knew it was there. He'd visited it lots of times with Samantha. She had
oohed and ahhed and told Harry it was their very own secret place. Could that
be where Samantha had gone today? He didn't think so. Harry walked back to the
gray stone house, the house that was his home. It was a big, rambling two-story
with apple and cherry trees growing in the back yard. The sound the apples made
as they fell to the ground in the wind and rain today bothered Harry. It was as
if the plopping apples were gigantic raindrops slamming into the soaked, black
earth.

Harry didn't like it outside anymore and took
off running for the house as lightning stabbed the ground. He knew the house
was snug and warm with a fire in the fireplace and his own favorite blue rag
rug waiting for him to stretch out on.

"Harry! Come on in boy, you'll get chilled in
this storm," called Samantha's mother, Jessica. Into the hole in the door Harry
ran. "Ah, warm house, dry air, a dog couldn't have a better place to live,"
Harry thought.

He had lived with the Samuels family for six
years. Jessica Samuels had always wanted a golden retriever. She told her
husband John when they moved to the stone house in Cape Fair, Missouri that she
wanted a retriever and a child, in that order. Jessica was a fairly organized
and determined woman who believed in creating her own reality. So it was no
surprise to John that Harry the dog and Samantha the child were both settled in
at the stone house within a year of their moving in.

They had decided to move to the small town
nestled in the Ozarks as a compromise. Jessica's parents were in San Francisco,
and John's mother and sister lived in New York City. Missouri seemed about
halfway between the two families, and they had been charmed by Cape Fair when
passing through once on a vacation. The Ozark Mountains were one of the most
unheralded, naturally beautiful places either one had ever seen. Heavily
forested, the rolling hills contained a variety of small towns located near
lakes or small rivers. Cape Fair was located on Table Rock Lake, fifty minutes
from Springfield, the closest large city, and twenty minutes from Branson, the
entertainment capital of the region.

On their way back to California, they had
stopped in Cape Fair to have lunch at a diner and had been enchanted with the
old-fashioned feel of the place. When the real estate agent showed them the
stone house, mountain rising behind it, Jessica and John knew this was a place
to call home. It was a large house, too big for them, really, but it had
everything they could want now and in the future. A beautiful kitchen that
Jessica loved for its big bay window as much as the abundance of great
appliances. A study for John, a large den with a stone fireplace and one wall
of windows--and land, plenty of land.

John was a ruggedly handsome man, alternately perceived
as an intellectual, college professor-type or as a field hand. Not many of
their Cape Fair neighbors knew he was a successful science fiction writer, or
if they did, they were too polite to comment on such an odd profession. John
found that manual labor, such as digging post holes for the new fence, provided
a necessary path to getting his creative juices flowing. He took his laptop
computer into the fields in case a story idea came to him. Jessica often had to
send Harry out looking for him at dinnertime. Harry was now used to the sight
of John running dirt-covered hands through his dark brown, wavy hair, brown
eyes looking slightly dazed and unfocused as he worked out an idea.

Jessica was a computer programmer/systems
analyst who liked to say she'd escaped from cyberspace right before her brain
turned into a circuit board. The pace and stress of life within the high-tech
world led her to suggest to John that they buy some land and live out in the
country. Born and raised in San Francisco, Jessica was exhausted from big city
life and was also certain that California was not the safest place to live.

Baking bread, canning vegetables from her own
garden, and raising a child brought Jessica more joy than she'd thought
possible. Harry liked to watch her kneading the wheat bread dough that was her
specialty. Inevitably, flour covered her naturally blond hair and five-foot,
four-inch frame. Jessica was a fantastic cook, but her masterpieces seemed to
require a kitchen that looked like Hannibal and his troops had marched through
and engaged in some kind of bizarre food war. With the latest in communications
technology installed, she was able to work from her computer as a consultant,
rarely needing to leave home. Jessica felt she had the best of all worlds and
was content for the first time in her life.

Until Samantha became ill and the doctors couldn't
figure out what was wrong with her. Their sturdy little brown-eyed, blonde,
inquisitive child became listless and pale, and then the fevers started. "FUO,"
the doctor had said, "fever of unknown origin." Rashes were the next stage,
appearing and then vanishing. Jessica and John took Samantha to every expert
they were referred to without success. Finally, Mrs. Philpott, their closest
neighbor, came by with her famous chocolate chip cookies. "I think what you are
looking at here is an environmental cause," she told Jessica. As she settled
Samantha down on the couch with a glass of milk and the cookies, Jessica tried
to think of a way to gracefully accept Mrs. Philpott's advice and get her out
of the house. The white-haired older woman was known throughout the valley as
an expert on baking and raising roses--a nice old lady spouting medical advice
was not what Jessica needed.

"Before you get too busy to listen to an old
lady's ravings, I should tell you I worked for the EPA for ten years before my
retirement. I know what I'm talking about, Jessica, and you need to listen,"
said Mrs. Philpott firmly.

Listening intensely, Harry sat next to Mrs.
Philpott. He didn't know what the EPA was, but he liked the sound of Mrs.
Philpott's voice, like very definite music, music that knew where it was going.
He knew Samantha was sick even before Jessica did, through the way the little
girl smelled. It sounded like Mrs. Philpott knew what was wrong with Sam,
something about things called pesticides. Maybe what he had smelled were the
pesticides. As Mrs. Philpott talked, Harry watched Sam's mom get more and more
upset.

"What are you telling me? That the government knows
these chemicals aren't safe and still lets people use them? This is nuts! Our
trees are sprayed with the same pesticide as everyone else in this valley. We
were told it was ecologically safe!" Jessica said in tones of disbelief.

"It may pass certain standards, but Jessica, we
are talking about chemicals here. Unnatural substances that we add to the
earth, to the water, to the air. Do you remember back, oh, quite a few years
ago, when the condors were becoming extinct? It was due to the thinning of the
egg shells--thinning that was caused by a pesticide. Didn't you ever read any
Rachel Carson in college? We have seen animals affected for years by numerous
chemicals that are produced and used in the U.S. and other countries. Yet, we never
seem to make the connection that we are animals, too! What affects other
animals will also affect the human animal." Mrs. Philpott sighed. "Some
scientists like myself have tried for years to make changes and raise public
awareness. That was the main reason I took the position at the EPA. It took ten
years for me to realize that bureaucracy and politics will never do much to
stop all this."

"But...what...I don't even know how to react to
this," Jessica said softly. The world didn't seem like a very real place to her
at that moment.

Mrs. Philpott sat in the oak rocking chair that
had belonged to Jessica's grandmother. As she rocked slowly back and forth, she
looked over the tops of her gold-framed wire glasses to this woman she barely
knew. She hoped she had judged Jessica's strength and intelligence correctly.
Mrs. Philpott knew that for Jessica it was like she had brought a case of
dynamite into the house instead of cookies. Watching the expressions fly across
Jessica's face, seeing shock turn to anger and then to determination, she knew
her information network had not failed her. Mrs. Philpott found that discussing
gardening with people in town gave her access to all the local gossip. Over the
years, she often used this gossip network to keep her informed about anyone new
to the area. She wasn't a busybody--she was just an information junkie.

"What do you think I should do for Samantha?
John and I have taken her to every specialist we could find," Jessica said.

Mrs. Philpott stood up and took Jessica's hand. "I
know someone who is well-versed in the field of environmental diseases. He
knows pesticide poisoning better than anyone else in the country. Try not to
worry, dear. I think he may be able to help your Samantha."

Harry watched as Jessica hugged Mrs. Philpott
and then wrote down the name and number of the doctor. He had known Mrs.
Philpott was nice--she always gave him a treat when he went running out by her
house. He wished one of the women would say what EPA stood for--extra pesticide
area maybe? Just then Mrs. Philpott leaned over and looked him in the eye. "Now,
Harry," she said, "you look after little Samantha here. Don't forget to come
visit me." Harry wagged his tail. Mrs. Philpott smiled and walked to the back
door. Opening it, she turned and said to Jessica, "You know, this is only the
first step for you. Once Sam is well, I plan to spend more time with you and
John. I think it's time you learned more about what we have done to the earth."
That said she shut the door, leaving Jessica staring intently after her,
curiosity replacing fear.

Kalahari Desert, Africa

"So, what she is saying is that she heard a
message from the center of the earth telling them to leave?" Alex asked in
disbelief.

"Basically, yes," Nathan replied. Both could
speak the language of the Kung, but Nathan was more proficient at the nuances
of the language.

Alex faced the old woman and asked, "Then why
are you angry at us?"

Tiknay said slowly, "The danger comes from your
people, the ones not of The People. They have caused the earth to hurt. They
will not be allowed to do this anymore. You are of the people who hurt the
earth. You will bring danger to us if you stay with the tribe."

Alex knew many other indigenous populations
considered their tribe or race to be the one People, all others were the
outsiders. The Elder Brothers, who lived high above the rainforests in South
America, considered all other people to be their children and that they were
the true people. She was not aware that the Kung had ever stated such an
opinion before, and she knew that no tribe of Kung had ever refused to continue
communication with white researchers once the relationship had been
established.