“Life runs on chance?”
“Yes! Think about it. Each tree, plant, and even grass all release millions of seeds and billions of pollen over their lifetime in the hope of reproducing, or spreading. This happens every day all over the planet. Animals and insects do the same. Even with humans, females produce hundreds of eggs and males produce billions of sperm, all for the chance of reproduction. It’s the same everywhere to varying degrees. Almost all life on planet Earth operates under the rules of chance.”
Alison stared at Neely. “Wow!”
“Right? Anyway, I didn’t bring that up to get on a soapbox. I personally believe in God, but I think there are some big gaps in the explanation. Those who believe in intelligent design might argue the chance factor was part of the design, which is a valid point. What I’m trying to say is this: when you consider the sheer magnitude chance plays in our world, and the genetic cross-pollination that’s been going on for millions of years, is it any surprise that much of our DNA is the same?”
“Well, humans had to start somewhere, right?”
“I don’t just mean humans, Alison. I mean ALL life. All life on the planet shares a LOT of DNA.”
Alison nodded. “Like humans and primates.”
“Correct. But the genetic picture is even bigger. Our closest DNA relative is the chimpanzee. Did you know that of the three billion basepairs in the human genome, we share 99 % of those with chimpanzees?”
“Wow. I didn’t know it was that high.”
“Most people don’t. But this is where it gets interesting. We also share 97 % of our DNA with all other apes, and we share 93 % with mice.”
“Mice?!”
Neely nodded. “Mice. And if you keep going down the line, you’ll find that we share over 50 % of our DNA with a banana.”
Alison’s eyes widened. “What? That can’t be right.”
“It is,” Neely smiled. “Now stay with me. I’m about to explain why I started this. If life’s reproduction processes operate by mathematical chance, and its DNA is like a giant tree branching out over the planet for millions of years, leading us to now share much of what we are genetically… then how different do you think we really are from dolphins?”
Alison eased herself back into the chair with eyes still fixed on Neely.
“Alison, Sally said we used to be able to communicate. And while I initially dismissed it, looking at it from strictly a genetic standpoint, does it still seem all that impossible?”
“No.”
“No,” agreed Neely. “And here’s the kicker — most of that shared DNA is considered junk. Strands and basepairs that have long been deactivated through evolution. And there’s no telling what they used to be used for. What if some of those billions of old genes tied into some of our cognitive communication? What if there were abilities that used to be active and we have simply evolved out of them? In other words, what if we lost the ability through evolution but dolphins didn’t?”
42
“Alison, it’s me.”
“DeeAnn?! How are you?”
DeeAnn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “We’re okay. Even though Steve just tried to kill us. But we’re in Iquitos now.” She braced herself as the large SUV she was riding in turned a corner.
Known as the Capital of the Peruvian Amazon, the city was founded between the Amazon, Nanay, and Itaya rivers as far back as 1757 as a Spanish Jesuit deduction. Originally inhabited by Yameos and Iquito natives, the city eventually grew to be a lead city in the late eighteenth century during South America’s “rubber boom.”
Today Iquitos stood as a proud city among giant plains, dwarfed on all sides by the western Amazon jungle. None of which could be seen by DeeAnn or anyone else in the vehicle thanks to a torrential downpour.
“We got hit by the mother of all storms, and we’re now trying to make our way to some place called Pebas.” DeeAnn’s side window was abruptly covered by a wave of water as they passed through an intersection.
“How’s everyone else?”
“Good,” she said, raising her voice over the beating of the windshield wipers. She looked to Dulce next to her. Her small face was plastered against the opposite window in what could only be described as fascination. “Apparently some are doing better than others.”
“What does that mean?”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re all fine, although Steven is not exactly my favorite person at the moment.”
On the other end, Alison looked playfully at Neely. “What’s that? Steve Caesare’s not your favorite person?” She covered the phone’s microphone with her hand and whispered excitedly to Neely. “He’s still available!”
Neely Lawton stared at her, turning several shades of red from embarrassment. “Shut up!”
“What’s in Pebas?” Alison asked, removing her hand.
“I don’t know. Steven isn’t telling me.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“No, no it doesn’t.” DeeAnn rocked in her seat after a large dip in the road. “Anyway, I can’t talk for long. I just wanted to check in.”
“Thanks, DeeAnn. I’m glad you’re all okay. We’ve had a few surprises here.”
“Anything bad?”
“No. Not bad. More like… astounding.”
“That’s great. I look forward to hearing all about it when I get back.”
“Deal.”
DeeAnn smiled. “Thanks, Ali. I needed a quick pick-me-up. When Steven stops talking, I get nervous.”
“I know the feeling. Hang in there and call back when you can.”
“I will. Thanks.”
DeeAnn hung up the phone and watched as Caesare twisted around from the seat in front of her.
“Please tell me you forgot I was in the car with you.”
She gave him a devious smile. “Whoops.”
The deluge continued for the entire duration of the drive. Outside, the heavy rain left little to see, even out the front windshield. The bright headlights behind them were the only evidence that the other two vehicles were still there, carrying Juan and the rest of Caesare’s team.
The rain eventually began to lighten. Shortly afterwards, the Peruvian driver next to Caesare slowed and turned onto a small muddy road which was almost entirely hidden in the dense jungle. DeeAnn jumped when giant leaves began slapping the sides of the vehicle as it bounced and rattled over a trail not much wider than a set of tire tracks. After a few miles, the slapping gradually disappeared and the leaves were replaced by bright green grass on both sides, illuminated by the headlights.
Moments later they caught sight of an approaching structure with its shadowy shape rising into the darkness. Upon closer inspection, they watched the outline materialize into an old Quonset hut with dim glowing lights inside. The shadow of another unmistakable shape emerged next to the building — a large airplane sitting idle in the tall grass.
Stopping next to the old building, DeeAnn could make out the words “La Vida Del Aire” painted in large red letters on the plane’s fuselage.
The driver climbed out at the same time as Caesare, who briefly ducked back in his own door and grinned at them. “Wait right here.”
The door slammed shut before she could think of a reply, leaving her and Dulce sitting in silence, silhouetted in the bright glow of the vehicle’s headlights directly behind them.
“Wait right here?”
Dulce didn’t reply. She was trying to touch the small streams of water zigzagging down the other side of her window.