Lemuria by Burt Clinchandhill (epub e ink reader TXT) 📕

At the horizon, a rockface appeared. “Also fake?”

“It must be,” Bishop replied. “According to the GPS, that’s right about where we should make our final turn to the right.”

“Please, be careful.”

Bishop walked as close to the rock face as the screens would lead him. He looked left and right and, with his hands, felt the walls. The only way was to the right.

“Trees?” De Cremonese asked, looking right. “From the air, I didn’t see a single tree on the entire island.”

Two large trees—with big canopies right in front of them—allowed just enough light through to know it was still daytime.

“Listen.” Bishop pointed a finger in the air. Birds, running water and wind rushed through the trees. “It’s a rainforest.”

“Or, rather, a simulation of a rainforest,” De Cremonese added. “What do you think?”

Bishop waved his arms in search of walls. “Do you feel anything?”

De Cremonese followed his example. “Nothing.” He freely waved his arms around. “I think we are in an open space in the construction. There’s a path over there.” He pointed to a bush path leading through the trees. “I suggest we try to follow that.”

Bishop nodded, and the two started walking.

“Truly amazing. A complete rainforest inside a building.” De Cremonese looked at the birds moving through the treetops.

“The question is why?” Bishop said. “Why would anyone want to create an illusion of a rainforest, on a deserted island, and hide it from the rest of the world?”

“That’s the big question,” De Cremonese answered. “I think that when we find—”

Bishop suddenly put a finger in the air and stopped before placing a finger to his mouth.

“Sh. Do you hear that?” he whispered while lowering himself to the ground.

De Cremonese crouched next to him. “You hear something?” he whispered back.

“There it is again.”

“Voices?” De Cremonese asked.

“Sure seems so.”

“Can you understand what they’re saying?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t English.” Bishop pointed to the high shrubs at the side of the path. “Let’s move through those bushes and see how far we can get without being noticed.”

De Cremonese nodded, and the two disappeared into the bushes. Crouching, they silently and slowly moved closer to the sound until they reached a ten-foot-high grassy hill.

“There’s something just over this ridge,” Bishop said softly.

“Only one way to find out.” De Cremonese lay flat on his belly and crawled up through the high grass, closely followed by Bishop. When he reached the top, he stopped and slowly raised his head just over the edge. “Wow.”

Bishop joined him, looked, squinted his eyes, looked again, and then took his binoculars to look once more. After gazing through his binoculars for a minute, he turned on his back and let himself slide a few feet downhill.

De Cremonese followed his example and slid down, stopping next to Bishop. “What is it?”

Bishop exhaled deeply before answering. “I know what this is.”

Chapter 33 – The Core

Bishop lay on his back, looking at what he realized at the moment must be a projection of a fake sky. “I’ve been here before.”

“What are you talking about?” De Cremonese asked. “You’ve been here before?”

“Well, not exactly here, but, uh, here,” Bishop explained.

“That’s very helpful.”

“Sorry.” Bishop turned back on his belly again and crawled back up.

De Cremonese followed, and both men peered through their binoculars.

“Are you eventually going to explain?” De Cremonese asked impatiently.

“All right. You see that circle of roofs over there?”

“Sure.”

“That circle is called a shabono. It’s a type of hut where a group of families live together. Normally, you’d find them in South America. This specific one belongs in Peru, to the Mashco-Piro tribe, to be exact.”

People worked the fields at the edge of the shabono. Others sharpened primitive tools on rocks. Adult men played a game with sticks they seemed to throw on top of a pile. An oven burned, and Bishop tried to follow the smoke that drifted up, seeing if it would reach some kind of ceiling. It did not. The smoke dissipated before it touched anything. Bishop concluded that the structure they were in had to be immensely tall and high. In the center of the shabono, children yelled loudly while playing football.

“In fact,” Bishop said. “You see those people working and kids playing around and inside the shabono?”

“Sure,” De Cremonese answered, frowning, without taking the binoculars from his head.

“I believe those people are the Mashco-Piro tribe—all of them except three.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You remember I told you how this thing all started with the two government agencies working together on solving the mystery behind the missing tribes? Well, I think we found one.”

“These are the people you went looking for in Peru?”

“Exactly. From the place where we found one family left behind in a cave. Someone must have taken the tribe and moved it here.”

“And missed the last family who was left behind,” De Cremonese concluded.

“I believe so. And not only that. They’ve recreated the entire shabono down there as far as I can see to the tiniest detail. You know what this means?”

De Cremonese shook his head.

“It means that those people probably believe they’re still at their original location.”

“How?”

Bishop rolled onto his back again. De Cremonese followed his movement.

“This reminds me of The Truman Show,” Bishop said. “You remember that movie?”

“Sure,” De Cremonese confirmed. “Great movie. Jim Carrey thinks he leads a normal life while, in fact, he spends his entire life under a dome, being watched. Good movie.”

“Exactly. Only these people didn’t grow up here. They were brought here, without even knowing it.”

“Again, how?” De Cremonese insisted.

“As I recall, there were only about one hundred tribe members left. They must have sedated them somehow, probably with something they spread through the air, and then they airlifted them out of their own habitat and”—Bishop squinted and shook his head a few times—“brought them here.”

“Matthew, are you okay?” De Cremonese inspected Bishop’s face.

“Yeah, I think so. It feels like a headache’s coming on. I feel a little lightheaded.”

De Cremonese touched his forehead. “I thought it was me. There must be something in the atmosphere