not discern the features of Westpunt itself.
Instead, I saw a forest-laden mountain
sticking up from the ocean. I was about to
return the telescope when I finally saw…
My God! What seemed to be a thick tangle
of vines rose up from the mountain like a
great serpent before diving back into the
forest and disappearing for a moment.
With hands shaking, I took the telescope
from my eye and asked her what had happened.
She had either gotten over the shock
hours earlier or was a sturdier person than
I expected; she explained that it did appear to be a network of vines, and that it
had some means of mobility. She claimed
that she was no expert in measuring sizes
and distances, but she did say definitively
that the rope of vines was larger than any
ten trees in that forest. Furthermore, she
had seen more of the things, as many as
six rising from the forest at one time.
I did not know what such a thing would
mean for our expedition, but I found that
I feared the worst for the people of Westpunt and nearby towns. However, I did
not want to alarm my colleagues right
away, so I kept the news to myself, planning to share it with them on the final day
of our trip if it should be shown to have an
imminent impact upon us.
It was on the twenty-fourth day that
something like seaweed washed upon the
shore several hundred yards away from
the fortress.
The other members of our team had gone
back to the wastes for more seismic observations, but I remained at the fort with
Ramirez. The others still knew nothing of
the network of vines appearing to ravage Curacao, and I wanted to see more of
INSIGHT
its motion myself before making an announcement. Although two or three of
them did give me glances as if to say that
they believed I was having a romantic
affair with the intern, they donned their
loose robes and departed without comment.
It was just after noon when Ramirez
pointed out the seaweed and descended
to the shore to investigate with me in tow.
She broke away from me as we neared
it, although I called out for her to wait.
The stretch of sand where the mass had
washed was near the broad strip of fertile
soil that separates the shore from the desert. Already I could see that it had somehow propelled itself toward that ground
as the plant matter now sat at the end of
short rivulets it had cast in the sand.
Ramirez turned to me one last time as
she squatted beside it, but I could not
shout my warning fast enough. A ropelike tangle of vines shot up from the pile
and wrapped around her neck before
using the leverage to pull itself onto her
chest as she fell. There came a bright yellow cloud in a sudden puff, and Ramirez’s
hands came to her throat as she struggled
to breathe while simultaneously pulling at the plant. Tiny imitations of the
plant bloomed behind her, but they
quickly died away. Was the cloud a burst
of spores? They had trouble with sand, it
seemed.
Still, the one that cre