Dinosaur brain hack, p.3
Dinosaur / Brain Hack, page 3
A few minutes later, the ladies returned, Mawi now adorned with many rows of beaded necklaces, bracelets, and anklets. She fitted more necklaces of animal teeth around Nizax’s neck, clearly indicating the wearer’s status or role in Bulu society. Once they were all seated, Doc gave them the thumbs-up and started filming.
Jax looked at the camera and said, “We’re here at the Apple Mango Café in Kimbe with Billy, Nizax, and Mawi. They are Bulu people from the Dakataua region here in New Britain. Nizax, have you heard of the Migo?”
Billy relayed the question in the Bulu language to Nizax, who with a gruff voice, replied through Billy. “He said, of course, our people have known of the Migo and many other creatures of the jungle for generations.”
Jax continued, “Back in 1993, a Japanese filmmaker Hiro Tanaka and his assistant Akemi Kawai were guided to the Dakataua Caldera to film a Migo. The guide’s name was Juno. He was from the Bulu tribe, do you know of this?”
“Yes,” Billy translated. “Juno became very famous with our people after that.”
“Why?” Digger asked.
“Because he was on television in Japan, a movie star,” Billy said proudly.
“Well,” Digger continued, “this film we’re shooting now will mean you will be movie stars as well... it will be on television in Australia.”
That brought a belly laugh from Nizax and a shy chuckle from Mawi. Billy sat up straighter in his chair, imagining himself as a movie star.
Jax continued, “Is Juno still around?”
Billy didn’t need to ask Nizax; he knew the answer. “No, Juno took a spirit journey to join our ancestors in maybe 2009.”
“We plan to go where Juno took Tanaka-san, to see if we can also film the Migo.”
After Billy translated to Nizax, the man’s face tightened, his mood and tone changing. Billy translated gravely, “Nizax thinks that would be a very bad idea. Only three weeks ago, a hunting party was attacked by a Migo, and one warrior was mauled and went to the ancestors.”
Jax and Digger exchanged a look of concern. “How big was that Migo?” Jax asked.
“Six or seven feet,” Billy said.
“Nizax, what can you tell us about the Migo?” Jax asked, figuring Nizax, being older than Billy, might know more. Nizax thought long and hard before answering.
It was a long answer, and eventually, Billy interpreted, “There is more than one Migo. This one was a juvenile. They are very intelligent creatures, maybe reptiles closest to man. They are very protective of their habitat. We mostly keep well clear of them, but because there are no fish in the caldera, the Migo survive on birdlife—waterfowl and others. When migration takes the birds away, Migo become very hungry. The hunting party should have known better. They should have made an offering of food to the Migo, then there would have been no attack.”
“I see,” Jax muttered, “a sacrifice.”
“Is the Migo the only strange creature in the area?” Digger asked.
“No, no... there are many... many dinosaurs, some that fly... others live in trees, some are spirits. But the Migo is the most dangerous.”
“Some that fly?” Digger questioned.
“Yes,” Billy said.
“The Ropen,” a voice bellowed from behind the espresso machine, obviously eavesdropping. “A pterosaur, nocturnal, with a long tail and beak filled with teeth. Has a wingspan of up to twenty-five feet … been the subject of massive debate between cryptozoologists and researchers for yonks. It has been sighted by pilots of small aircraft; in fact, in 2006, an expedition got a shot of one flying over a ridge at night. It was described as having lizard-like ears, an elongated snake-like neck, a shallow beak, scaly membrane wings, dermal bumps running down its back, webbed feet, and a long tail.” A tall man with a goatee and a balding head ambled over to them from the counter. Like a true professional, he looked at the camera and said with a slight American accent, “Phil Norton, at your service. I’m the owner of this fine establishment and an amateur cryptozoologist to boot. It was the Migo and the Ropen that brought me here almost a decade ago.”
“Nice to meet you, Phil. What made you stay?” Jax asked.
“Well, it’s a bit like tracking down a Bigfoot or a Yeti... it becomes an obsession.”
After the meeting with Nizax finished, the team found themselves a like-minded ally in Phil. Born to a US diplomatic family in Port Moresby, he later spent his teenage years in Spokane, Washington. After graduating from Washington State University, he became a commercial pilot for Northwest Airlines. At the age of 42, he made a sea change back to PNG, ultimately settling in Kimbe Bay, close to his obsession with neo-dinosaurs.
Phil explained, “I’ve been fascinated by these creatures since I was a kid. When I had the chance to come back to PNG, I couldn’t resist. Kimbe Bay is the perfect spot—close to the Dakataua Caldera and all its mysteries.”
Doc, always eager to learn more, asked, “So, Phil, have you seen the Migo or the Ropen yourself?”
Phil nodded. “I’ve had a few encounters, but nothing conclusive enough to convince the scientific community. That’s why I’m thrilled you guys are here. With your resources and my local knowledge, maybe we can finally capture something undeniable.”
For the next hour, Phil walked them through his experiences in the region, supporting his stories with photos, witness accounts, web links, and newspaper clippings. Jax and Digger were impressed, but Jax could tell by Doc’s attitude that he wasn’t. He questioned everything with a critical eye.
Phil’s pièce de résistance was a photo he had snapped of a Ropen flying over the Dakataua Caldera. Digger was fascinated, examining it through a magnifying loop that Phil passed around.
“You can see by the sky that a massive storm was coming. It was really windy. See the lightning in the background? That’s what I was shooting. It wasn’t until I got back to Kimbe and zoomed in on an odd speck in the shot that I realised what I’d captured. Let me show you an enhanced version on my laptop.” He opened his Mac Pro, brought up the photo, and zoomed in. At a certain point, it began to pixelate.
“Stop there. That’s about as far as you can go... you can clearly see it’s no normal bird,” Digger said.
“It’s either small or too far from the camera,” Doc said dismissively, with overtones that suggested he thought Phil was trying to con them. Jax knew Doc well enough to sense when he suspected deception. She didn’t want to outright dismiss Phil and his evidence, no matter what it added to the storyline.
“Doc, can you film some of this and our discussion?” she asked.
Reluctantly, Doc started filming, allowing for Phil’s prized photo to be inserted later in post-production.
Like a true showman, Phil relished the opportunity to star. “You can see when I zoom in, the Ropen is a pterosaur … an airborne dinosaur. I estimate the wingspan to be at least ten metres. It’s flying over the very place you intend to journey to, the Dakataua Caldera. I believe this photo is conclusive proof of the existence of living dinosaurs in New Britain.”
Eyes glued to the screen, Digger glanced at Jax beside him and said, “You have to admit it’s pretty convincing.”
Doc handed the camera to Digger, signalling that he wanted to be included in the scene. With Digger filming, Doc studied the photo and said, “I’d say that’s a bat. There’s no frame of reference to evaluate its size—I think it’s closer to the camera than you think.”
Phil took offence. “I’d expect that from a sceptic. What you’re not taking into consideration is that I was there.”
“Oh, you have zoom vision, do you?” Doc retorted.
“No, but I had binoculars.”
“But didn’t you just tell us you didn’t know it was in your photo until you returned and zoomed in on a speck?” Doc countered.
Phil closed his laptop and angrily started packing up his documents. “I don’t have to take this,” he declared, then snarled, “If you want my photo for your show, then you’ll have to pay for it.” He put his laptop under his arm and, like a schoolkid after an argument, stormed off to his office annexed to the café.
Jax glared at Doc with disappointment and said in a harsh whisper, “That was uncalled for, Doc.”
“It’s fake, he’s a fake … nothing more than a Bigfoot hunter, a car salesman without the cars,” Doc said angrily. “Look, he’s probably hoping to become famous and sell a book. Well, I’m not here to help promote some sketchy cheap-chiseller.”
Jax saw red. “Have it your way, Doc, but we are here to make a television show, and what he has to offer, be it true or false, is exactly what our audience will eat up. Now, buy in, Doc, or go back home.”
“Now, now, calm down, both of you,” Digger pleaded. “You both make a point, but at the end of the day, Jax calls the shots, and she’s all about the show, so that trumps your doubts, Doc. You have to admit, controversy makes good television.”
Doc reclined in his chair, his arms folded defensively across his chest. “Alright, alright, you win, I’ll play along, but on this one,” he unfolded his arms and leaned forward to Jax, speaking conspiratorially, “as far as he’s concerned, I don’t have to agree with what I refute. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes, Doc. That is exactly what I expect from you,” Jax said. She got up from the table and went looking for Phil to apologise.
CHAPTER
FIVE
Jax eventually brought Phil around, and even though there was still a standoff between Doc and Phil, they moved forward with planning the expedition. The next part was relatively easy since they no longer needed a guide—Phil had made so many trips into the Caldera over the years that he would serve that purpose perfectly. As Digger stressed, there would be no chance of misinterpretation like what had happened with the Tanaka expedition.
Conveniently, at the end of the street from the café was the head office of Niugini Helicopters, complete with a helipad. Even though Digger had booked a chopper from them to leave at 3 pm for the Caldera, it was a bonus that the owner, an Aussie expat named Peter Richardson, was a personal friend of Phil. Of the fleet of choppers, Phil had frequently chartered a Bell 407 to visit the Dakataua Caldera and other locations for his dinosaur hunts. Richardson, known as Richo, had supported Phil’s ventures as it was good for business and brought press attention to the region. Digger had booked the Bell 407, but Phil recommended requesting Richo as the pilot because of his familiarity with the Caldera.
They met Richo at the office of Niugini Helicopters, and he agreed to pilot them. A pleasant man of similar age to Phil, he was excited about the prospect of getting his company and the region publicised on The Next Files, sure that it would promote tourism.
Doc continued documenting proceedings on camera, often with Jax making comments to the camera as though talking to the audience or to Doc.
The chopper lifted off on schedule for the twenty-minute flight to the Dakataua Caldera.
The view from the chopper was spectacular: rugged mountains, some of them volcanic with cinder cones, and a lush green carpet of tropical rainforest that reminded Jax of the jungles of Mindanao.
Soon, an incredible 48 square kilometres of lakes in the shape of a horseshoe came into view—this was the Dakataua Caldera. Richo descended the chopper and flew over the Mount Makalia stratovolcano, narrating like a travel guide and pointing out where a major collapse had occurred during the last eruption in 1890.
“That thunderstorm up ahead is looking a bit hairy,” Digger observed, not a great fan of helicopters.
Richo turned and said assuredly, “You get pretty used to squalls round here, mate. Just like this one, they can roll in at the drop of a hat from the Bismarck Sea.” Right as he said that, the chopper hit some heavy turbulence, throwing them wildly about. Within seconds, they were enveloped in cloud, with lightning flashing all around them. The passengers were getting worried.
A low altitude warning sounded, and ragged mountaintops appeared out of nowhere, whipping past only twenty metres below them. The warning sounded, “Terrain, terrain.” Richo pulled the stick sharply back and climbed hard, but he was practically flying blind, relying on his instruments alone.
Jax could tell by the look on Phil’s face up front beside Richo that they were in trouble. A blinding flash of lightning and a stall warning added to the chaos.
“Lightning took out the tail rotor! Brace for impact!” Richo shouted above the mayhem. With the tail rotor gone, the chopper went into an uncontrollable spin. The automated audio loudly warned again repeatedly, “Terrain, terrain!” Within seconds, they hit the water, causing a blade from the main rotor to snap off and smash the front windshield. Water jetted in, quickly filling the cabin. It was panic stations as the chopper sank like a rock.
Doc broke the surface, gasping for breath and holding the camera above his head. Treading water, he looked around frantically for his companions, but he was alone... the lake was eerily calm. The thunderstorm had moved on, and there wasn’t even a breeze.
The water suddenly erupted beside him when Digger and Jax broke the surface at the same time, followed by Phil. They waited in silence for Richo, but there was no sign of him.
“Is everyone okay?” Jax asked, getting nods in reply.
“I think the rotor blade hit Richo,” Phil said grimly. “There was a lot of blood in the water.”
They were about a hundred metres from shore, in deep water. The chopper had completely vanished into the dark depths of the caldera.
Just as they began swimming for shore, there was a massive swirl in the water where the chopper had gone down.
“What the hell was that?” Digger shouted.
“Either a Migo or a croc... The chopper hitting the water and the blood probably attracted one or the other,” Phil explained with urgency.
That scared the hell out of them, and they started swimming for shore as fast as they could, with Doc struggling to swim with one hand while trying to keep the camera dry with the other.
There was, of course, no signal where they were, so calling for help was a no-go. Sitting around a campfire on the shore with night closing in on them, Jax asked Phil, “Would they know back at base the chopper went down?”
“No,” Phil replied.
Doc wasn’t impressed. “So, we’re stuck here? Don’t you, in your vast experience, know a way out?”
“No, I only come here by chopper.”
There was still obvious tension between Doc and Phil in the discourse.
“Then what do you propose we do, Phil?” Digger asked.
“Sleep on it.”
That was easier said than done for Jax, Digger, and Doc, their minds filled with images of crocodiles or the Migo creeping around in the dark, looking for free lunch.
Curled up on the ground next to the dying campfire, Jax was trying to sleep, but in reality, her eyes were only closed; she was wide awake. Every now and then, she lifted an eyelid just enough to catch a glimpse of the jungle. The flickering light from the fire created shadows that darted about in the trees like ephemeral spirits, feeding her fertile imagination and making sleep next to impossible. Then there were the sounds, totally unfamiliar to her … strange calls from night birds, the odd thump like something big hitting the ground, sharp rustles and sticks breaking from something moving through the bush nearby … and distant splashes and swirls from things in the lake only 50 metres from them. All of the sounds combined with the flickering shadows making it a nightmarish landscape.
A whisper from Digger beside her broke the illusion. “You thinking what I’m thinking? That the hunter has become the hunted?”
“What makes you think that, Digger?” Doc grumbled from the other side of Jax. “Us stranded in a croc-infested jungle at night?”
Phil sat up next to Doc. “Which is why we need to keep the fire going … Crocs and other predators don’t like fire.”
“I saw that movie too; the Creature from the Black Lagoon, wasn’t it?” Jax said.
Phil got up and, while putting more kindling on the fire, said, “For me, it was Journey to the Centre of the Earth, the original one with Sean Connery.”
“That was James Mason,” Doc corrected.
“You’re right, that’s who it was,” Phil accepted.
“I thought it was The Lost World,” Digger said.
“Or The Land That Time Forgot, with Doug McClure. He was my first crush,” Jax recounted.
“Wow, all those films are ancient. Doug McClure? … that would’ve been the early seventies,” Doc said.
“Didn’t they remake it, like, in 2010 or something?” Digger questioned.
“Yep, but it was seriously average. They came across a mysterious island in the Bermuda Triangle with dinosaurs and a stranded Nazi U-Boat crew,” Jax explained.
“You guys sure know your monster movies,” Phil said.
The conversation took their minds off their predicament and their wild imaginings, at least for a while.
Dawn delivered a wake-up call from every conceivable bird nature could’ve possibly awakened, and it stirred the four stranded intruders.
Jax wasn’t about to allow the circumstances to get in the way of the mission and so called a meeting to schedule the day.
“Alright, everyone,” Jax began, “we need to figure out a plan for today.”
Digger stretched and nodded. “Yeah, we should start by checking our gear and seeing what we’ve got left.”
Doc, always practical, added, “And we need to figure out how to signal for help.”
