Origin Read Online Free PDF Page B

me
any
thing. And what do you think but the first thing heasks me is if I can go buy a dress for a seventeen-year-old girl?” She shakes her head, and I notice for the first time that her wild red frizz is tamed into a braid over her shoulder. With the hair under control, she’s quite pretty, and younger than I’d first thought.
    “The dress was all right.” I shrug. No need to tell her I love it. I don’t want her thinking we’re friends or something.
    “It’s weird, having a black-tie party in the middle of the wilderness.”
    “You just say whatever pops into your head, don’t you?”
    “Always. Without question. That’s the only way I know I’m being truly original.”
    “Why did you come to Little Cam?”
    “Didn’t you hear? To study tapirs and three-toed sloths.”
    “What did Uncle Paolo say about me?”
    “That you’re
immortal
.” I can tell from the twitch of her lips around her cigarette that she doesn’t believe it.
    “I am.”
    “Huh. He also said you were perfect.”
    “I’m that too.”
    “Psh. Sure, honey.”
    “I
am
!” I’m bristling like Alai now. “Watch.”
    I pick up a scalpel from Uncle Paolo’s tray of tools. Dr. Klutz’s eyes widen. “Pia…”
    “Just watch.” I run it down my arm, pressing as hard as I can. It stings, but only mildly. I
can
feel pain, but not as intensely as other people. A faint white line is the only evidence of the blade’s touch, but it disappears in seconds.
    Dr. Klutz gapes, her eyes wide, cigarette forgotten between her fingers. “My sweet, giddy aunt…”
    That seems like an odd thing for someone to say, but I feel strangely pleased with her response. Setting the scalpel down, I reach into a drawer, pull out a rolled-up chart, and spread it on the exam table beside her. She watches my every move with rapt attention.
    “What’s that?”
    “This,” I announce with no small amount of pride, “is my family tree. Did Uncle Paolo tell you the story behind Little Cam, me, all of this?”
    “He said we’d cover that in orientation tonight, but”—she leans forward and whispers—“I’m rather an impatient woman. So go on. Tell me.”
    “Well,” I begin, thrilled to have an audience. I’ve never had the chance to tell someone my story before, not like this. “It all began one hundred years ago, in 1902. A team of scientists were going through the jungle in search of new plants to use for medicines. They went deeper than anyone else from the outside had gone before and met natives who had never seen people with white skin and mustaches. They were led by a biologist and botanist named Heinrich Falk, who heard of a plant in the very heart of the jungle that could extend human life. Everyone else thought it was a myth. Stories like these were more numerous than the leaves of a kapok tree, and none of them had ever been proved. But Dr. Falk found it.
Epidendrum elysius.
Elysia, he called it. In all of the rainforest—and in all of the world—it’s found in only one place. Falk’s Glen. It’s not far from here, I’m told, though I’ve never been there myself.”
    “So what did this magical flower do, then, eh?” she asks.I can hear the skepticism creeping back. That’s fine. I’m not done with my story yet.
    “It’s not magic. It’s science. And it kills you within minutes if you eat it or drink the nectar that pools in the cup of its petals.” I have never seen Falk’s Glen, but I have seen elysia. Uncle Antonio brought me a stem once, a single stem of the precious plant that is the basis of my existence. It is a deep purple, and the tips of its petals are tinged with gold. It doesn’t look much different from some of my orchids in the window. I tried to replant it, but it died. I wasn’t the first to try it. One of the Little Cam scientists’ greatest hopes is to figure out how to replant elysia. So far, no luck at all. It wouldn’t be such an issue if we knew how it reproduced, but that’s another mystery. The