Serpent nf-1 Page 19

  A few steps away was a round drumshaped stone about a yard high and a couple of yards across. While Gamay went behind the monument and changed from her jeans to more comfortable shorts she'd brought in her pack, Chi prepared lunch on the stone's flat top. The professor took a small woven mat and cloth napkins from the rucksack and spread them out over the carved figure of a Mayan warrior in full feathered dress.

  "Hope you don't mind eating on a bloodstained sacrificial altar:" Chi said with a poker fare.

  Gamay was catching on to the professor's morbid humor. "If the sharp stub I just sat on is any indication, this was once a sundial."

  "Of course," he said innocently. Actually, the sacrificial altar is over there near that temple." He dug' into the rucksack. "Spam and tortilla roll-ups."

  Handing Gamay her neatly wrapped sandwich, Chi said, "Tell me, what do you know about the Maya?"

  She unwrapped the clear plastic and nibbled a bite of tortilla before answering. "I know that they were violent and beautiful at the same time." She swept her hand in the air. "That they were incredible builders. That their civilization collapsed but nobody is certain why"

  "It is less of a mystery than some suppose. The Mayan culture went through many changes in the hundreds of years of its existence. Wars, revolutions, crop failures, all contributed. But the invasion of the conquistadors and the genocide that followed put an end to their civilization. While those who followed Columbus were killing our people, others were murdering our culture. Diego de Landa was a monk who came in with the conquistadors and was made bishop of Yucatan. He burned all the Mayan books he could find. `Lies of the devil' he called them. Can you imagine a similar catastrophe in Europe and the damage it would have done? Even Hitler's storm troopers were not so thorough. Only three books escaped destruction that we know of."

  "So sad. Wouldn't it be wonderful if more were found one. day?" Gamay surveyed the plain from their perch. "What is this place?"

  "I thought at first that it was a center of pure science, where research was conducted away from the bloody rituals of the priests. But the more I uncovered, the more I became convinced that it was actually part of a greater plan. An architectural machine, if you will."

  "I don't think I understand."

  "I'm not sure I do, either." He produced a bent cigarette from his shirt and lit up, saying, "One is allowed small vices with age." He took a puff. "Let me start with the micro. The frieze and the observatory."

  And the macro?"

  "The siting I was talking about. I have found similar structures at other sites. Together with other buildings they remind me of a rather large printed electrical circuit"

  Gamay couldn't help smiling. Are you saying that the Maya could add computer science to their other accomplishments?" .

  "Yes, in a crude way. We're not looking at an IBM machine with endless gigabytes. More like a code machine perhaps. If we knew how to use it we could decipher the secrets in these stones. Their placement is no accident. The precision is quite remarkable, as a matter of fact."

  "Those carvings . . . so strange. The horse's head. Did the hieroglyphics say anything about the inscriptions?"

  "They tell of along voyage many years before with hundreds of men and great riches."

  "Have you ever heard the story elsewhere in Mayan lore?"

  "Only at the other sites."

  "Why here, though, so far from the coast?"

  "I've wondered the same thing. Why not at the monuments at Tulum, right on the Gulf? Come, I can show you something that might offer an explanation."

  They packed up and walked to the far edge of the plain where the woods resumed, then through the trees and down a gradual slope. The air cooled a few degrees and took on a muddy smell as they descended to the edge of a slow-moving river. Pointing, Chi said, "You can see where the banks are eroded higher up, which means the river was wider at one point."

  "Someone on the research ship said there were no streams or rivers in the Yucatan."

  "True. The Yucatan is mostly a big limestone slab. Lots of caves and cenotes where there are holes in the limestone. We're more south in Campeche where the terrain is a little different. As you move into the Peten and Guatemala the big Mayan cities are actually located on waterways. That's what I was thinking here, that perhaps the boat was a ferry between settlements."

  "You're right, there was a river, but I don't think it was large enough for a vessel of that size. With the high bow and sides, the rugged stem, that vessel was made for the open sea. There was something else. What I first thought were fish are dolphins. Saltwater creatures." She paused. "What's that?"

  The sun had glinted off something shiny in the distance. She walked a few paces downstream with Chi coming up behind her. A battered aluminum pram powered by an old Mercury outboard was pulled up onto shore. "This must have drifted in from somewhere."

  Chi was less interested in the boat than in the footprints in the mud. His eyes darted into the surrounding woods. "We must go," he said quietly. Taking Gamay's hand in a firm grip, he led her on a zigzag course up the hill, his head moving back and forth like a radar antenna. Near the top of the slope he halted, and his nostrils flared like a hound's.

  "I don't like this," he said in a hushed tone, sniffing the air.

  "What's going on?" she whispered.

  "I smell smoke and sweat. Chickleros. We must leave."

  They skirted the edge of the woods, then picked up a path that would take them across the plain. They were passing between a pair of squareshaped mounds when a man stepped out from around the corner of one of the hillocks and blocked their way.

  Chi's hand flew to his scabbard, whipped the machete out in a blur of metal, and held the long sharpedged blade cocked menacingly above his head like a Samurai. His jaw jutted forward projecting the defiance that had so amazed the Spanish conquistadors who fought a bloody war of subjugation against his ancestors.

  Gamay marveled at how quickly this gentle elf of a man transformed himself into a Mayan warrior. The stranger wasn't impressed. He grinned, showing great gaps in his yellow teeth. He had long greasy black hair and a stubble on his face that didn't quite hide the syphilitic scars of his jaundiced complexion. He wore the standard Mexican campesino garb of baggy pants, cotton shirt, and sandals, but in contrast to the immaculate appearance of the poorest Yucatan native, he was dirty and unwashed. He looked to be a mestizo, a cross between Spanish and Indian, and flattered neither group. He was unarmed but didn't seem worried about the upraised machete. A second later Gamay learned the reason for his equanimity.

  "Buenos dias, senor, senora," said a new voice.

  Two more men had come around the other side of the mound. The closer one had a barrel-shaped body and short arms and legs. A high Elvisstyle black pompadour of thick hair surmounted a face that looked as if it could have come off a Mayan carving. He had slanted eyes, a wide blunt nose, and cruel lips like two pieces of liver. The muzzle of his aged hunting rifle was pointed in their direction.

  The third stranger stood behind Elvis. He was bigger than the other two put together. He was clean, and his white pants and shirt looked freshly laundered. His long dark sideburns were as neatly trimmed as was his thick mustache. His belly was round, but the thick arms and legs were muscular: He loosely held an M16 and carried a holstered pistol on the wide belt that supported his large gut.

  Smiling pleasantly, he spoke to Chi in Spanish. The professor's eyes went to the M16, then he slowly lowered the machete and let it fall to the ground. Next he slipped the shotgun off his shoulder. He put it down next to the machete. Without warning Yellow Teeth stepped forward and struck Chi across the face.

  The professor weighed about a hundred pounds, and the blow practically lifted him off the ground and sent him sprawling into the grass. Instinctively Gamay stepped in between the stricken professor and his assailant to ward off the kick she expected would follow: Yellow Teeth froze, staring at her with surprise. Instead of cowering, she skewered him with a w
arning glance, then turned and bent to help the professor to his feet. She was reaching for his arm when her head was jerked backward as if her hair were caught in a wringer, and for a second she thought her scalp was being ripped off.

  She fought for her balance only to be jerked back again. Yellow Teeth had his fingers wrapped in her long hair. He pulled her close to him, so close that when he laughed she practically gagged at his fetid oniony breath. But her whitehot anger drowned out the pain. She relaxed slightly to gain slack and make him think she was no longer resisting. Her head was at an angle, and from the corner of her eye she glimpsed his sandal. Her sneakered foot came down on his instep, and she put her whole weight of one hundred thirtyfive pounds into her heel, which she gyrated as if she were grinding out a lighted cigarette butt.

  He let out a swinish grunt and loosened his grip. Gamay could see the blur of his face out of the corner of her eye. Her elbow swung back in a short hard arc and caught his nose and cheekbone with a satisfying crunch of cartilage. He yelled shrilly, and she was free. She whirled around, disappointed that he was still standing. He was holding his nose, but anger diffused his pain, too, and he started for her, dirty fingers aimed at her throat. He was a miserable excuse for a human being, but Gamay knew she would still be no match for his weight and male strength. When he grabbed her she would feint a knee to his groin, a streetfighter move he might expect, then she'd drive her knuckles into his eye sockets and see how he liked that. She tensed as he came at her.,

  "Basta!"

  .The big man who looked like Pancho Villa had yelled. His mouth was still smiling, but his eyes glittered with anger.

  Yellow Teeth stepped back. He rubbed his face where a bruise was forming against the unhealthy skin. He backed off and grabbed at his crotch. The message was dear.

  "I got something to give you, too," he said in English.

  He retreated when Gamay took a quick step toward him, setting his companions off into gales of dirty laughter.

  Pancho Villa was intrigued by the fearless reaction of this slender woman. He moved forward. "Who are you?" he said, his eyes boring into hers.

  "I'm Dr. Gamay Trout. This is my guide," she said quickly, helping Chi off the ground. Chi's knowing expression told her that he understood he might face a bleak future if these men knew his identity He adopted a groveling servile attitude.

  The big man dismissed Chi with a contemptuous glance and concentrated his attention fully on Gamay. "Whatcha doin' here?"

  "I'm an American scientist. I heard about the old buildings and came out to see what they were. I got this man to take me here."

  He studied her for a moment. "What did you find?"

  Gamay shrugged and looked around. "Not much. We just got here. We saw some carvings over there, that's all. I don't think there's much to see."

  Pancho Villa laughed and said, "You didn't know where to look. I show you."

  He rattled off an order in Spanish. Yellow Teeth nudged Gamay with the shotgun but backed away when she gave him a fierce look. Instead he concentrated his anger on Dr. Chi, knowing she didn't like it. They trekked to the far side of the plain to where the ground was scarred by a dozen or so trenches. Most were empty except for one filled with pottery.

  At Pancho's order Elvis retrieved two pots from the trench and stuck first one, then the other, under her nose.

  "This whatcha looking for?" the big man said.

  She heard a sharp intake of breath from Chi and hoped the others didn't notice.

  Taking one pot in her hands, she examined the figures drawn in black lines on the creamcolored surfaces. The scene seemed to represent a historic or legendary event. The ceramics were examples of the Codex-style pottery Dr. Chi had mentioned earlier. She handed the pot back.

  "Very nice."

  "Very nice," Pancho Villa echoed. "Very nice. Haha. Very nice."

  After a short and vocal conference the looters marched their captives for a few more minutes. Pancho Villa led the way. Elvis and Yellow Teeth rode shotgun behind them. They headed toward a grassy mound that was partially exposed to show the stones beneath the vegetation. Pancho walked through a corbeled arch and seemed to disappear. Gamay saw that the building housed a large orifice in the ground. They descended a flight of irregular roughcut steps into the semidarkness to a dank underground chamber with a lofty roof.

  The big man said a few words to Chi. Then they were left alone.

  "Are you all right?" Gamay asked the professor, her voice echoing.

  He rubbed the side of his face, which was still reddish where he'd been hit.

  "I will live, but I can't say the same for the animal who struck me. And you?"

  Rubbing her scalp where it hurt, Gamay said, "I needed a perm anyhow"

  For the first time a wide grin broke his stony expression.

  "Thank you. I might have been dead if it weren't for your intervention."

  "Maybe," Gamay said. Remembering the upraised machete she guessed the professor would have cut Yellow Teeth down to size. She looked back toward the stairs they had come down. "What did the big man say?"

  "He says he wont bother tying us up: There is only one way out. He will have someone at the entrance, and if we try to get away he will kill us."

  "He couldn't have been more direct than that."

  "It's my fault," Chi said glumly "I should not have brought you here. I never dreamed looters had found this place."

  "From the looks of that pottery they've been hard at work."

  "The artifacts in that ditch are worth hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of dollars. The big man is the boss. The other two are just hired men. Pigs." He paused. "It was well that you didn't say who I was."

  "I didn't know how far your fame had spread, but I didn't want to take any chances they knew who you were." She looked up at the high roof, which was barely visible in the light coming through the entrance. "Where are we?"

  "It's a cenote. A well where the people who lived here came for their water. I found it on my second trip. Come, I'll show you."

  They went in for about a hundred feet. The darkness deepened then lightened as they came to a large pool of water. The light streamed from an opening in the rocky roof she estimated was about sixty feet high. On the far side of the basin was a steep wall that went up to the ghostly glow of the ceiling.

  "The water is pure," Dr. Chi said. "The rainfall collects under the limestone and finds its way here and there to the surface through holes like this and underground caves."

  Gamay sat on a low ledge. "You know this breed," she said. "What do you think they'll do?"

  Dr. Chi was amazed at his companion's calm manner. He shouldn't be surprised, he reminded himself. She had shown no fear defending him and going after the man who attacked him.

  "We have some time. They won't do anything until they confer with the traffickers who hired them about what to do with an American."

  "Then what?"

  He spread his hands. "They have little choice. This is a lucrative excavation that they won't want to abandon. Which is what they will have to do if they let us go."

  "So it will be better for them if we disappear from the face of the earth. Nobody knows where we are, although they don't know that. People might think we'd been eaten by a jaguar."

  He raised a brow "They wouldn't have been so free in showing us their loot if they thought we'd be around to tell anybody"

  She looked around. "You wouldn't know a secret way out of here?"

  "There are passageways off the main chamber. They either end or descend below the water table and are impassable."

  Gamay got up and walked over to the edge of the water. "How deep do you suppose this is?"

  "It's hard to say"

  "You mentioned underwater caves. Any chance that this comes up someplace else?"

  "Possible. Yes. There are other water holes in the area."

  Gamay stood a minute at the water's edge trying to probe the depths with her eyes.

  "Wha
t are you doing?" the professor called after her.

  "You heard what that creep said. He wants a date with me." She dove in, breaststroked out into the middle of the basin. "Well, he's not my type," she said, her voice echoing in the chamber. And with a splash she disappeared beneath , the still water.

  Nine Mile Hole, Arizona

  19 FOR A TIME AUSTIN THOUGHT THE thunderstorm would hold off. Festering dark clouds that had been piling up all afternoon in ominous layers had snagged on a jagged peak. As Austin and Nina strolled around the edge of the ranch property they could have been a relaxed couple out for a walk, which was the impression Austin wanted to convey to any unseen watchers. They stopped under the bluegreen branches of a palo verde tree and looked off into the vast stillness. Rays from the lowering sun cast the wrinkled faces of the mountains in brilliant tones of gold, bronze, and copper.

  Austin took Nina gently by the shoulders, encountering no resistance as he pulled her toward him, so close he could feel the heat coming off her body.

  Are you sure I can't persuade you to leave?"

  "It would be a waste of time," she said. "I want to see this thing through."

  Their lips were almost touching, and at any other time the romance of the setting would have concluded in a kiss. Austin looked into the gray eyes flecked with orange from the setting sun and sensed Nina was far away, her mind with her murdered friends and colleagues.

  "I understand," he said.

  "Thank you. I appreciate that." She gazed at the darkening desert. "Do you think they will come?" she asked.

  "There's no doubt in my mind. How could they resist the bait?"

  "I'm not sure they're still interested in me.

  "I'm talking about the Roman bust. A stroke of genius."

  "It was a collaborative endeavor," Nina said with a smile. "We needed a model who looked like a Roman emperor. Paul's a wonder at computer graphics. He took a file photo, simply removed the beard, thinned the hair, combed it a la Julius Caesar, and substituted a breastplate for the blazer." Suddenly alarmed, she said, "You .don't think Admiral Sandecker would be angry if he knew we used his face for a model, do you?"