Treasure of the Mayan King (2012) (2 page)

And then, one day, it was over. Everything finally made sense, and Dr. Sova nodded. Sneaky devil, he thought silently of the man who had had this engraving made so many centuries ago. Devious devil indeed!

He stood up and triple-checked his translation, reading the words first from the staircase and then from his notebook. After at least half an hour of examination, he was satisfied. He knew exactly what the hieroglyphs said, and it was time the world knew as well.

He descended the staircase shouting to Dr. Lopez, “Call the media. I have a special announcement to make concerning the Mayan glyphs!”

Dr. Sova had orchestrated the event to its full potential. The press conference was being held in a hotel lobby in Merida, most of which was filled with a life-sized plaster replica of the Mayan staircase, complete with hieroglyphs. The media was eager to hear what the renowned Dr. Sova had to reveal to the world.

Dr. Sova knew how to handle himself in front of the cameras, and he enjoyed the attention. He walked to the lectern situated in front of the staircase replica and waved his hands, indicating he was ready to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced in impeccable English despite his accent. “May I have your attention please? The time has come to reveal the mystery of the Mayan hieroglyphs we have found on what we now call Temple #22.”

The lobby was quiet except for the sound of the morning traffic outside.

After having let the silence hang for a few dramatic seconds, he continued. “It is my pleasure to bring to you the explanation of the Mayan inscriptions. As you are all aware, the destructive nature of Hurricane Sheila was responsible for clearing away enough vegetation so as to expose an ancient staircase. This staircase has revealed the history of a formerly unknown ruler by the name of King Chac.

“As you can see here behind me…” he said, and turned briefly to point at the plaster staircase replica, a gesture he repeated several times during his discourse. “King Chac lived in the post-classic period of the Mayan empire. What makes this discovery so fascinating is the fact that we had no record of this king: he was an unknown entity! For many years it was thought that all of the Mayan kings of the Quiche Maya had been accounted for.” Sova, of course, had thought no such thing, but he figured that the simple-minded Mayanists had assumed the book of knowledge on the Mayan culture had been read from cover to cover.

“But now we can see, according to the glyphs that have been uncovered on the pyramid, we have a new ruler to add to our list. And much to our great delight, we also have reason to believe that this pyramid contains his remains. The work of clearing Temple #22 will commence shortly in an attempt to excavate inside the structure. It has been decided among my colleagues and I that this work will be accomplished by an international crew of archaeologists, all of whom will assist in uncovering the temple.”

After the applause died down, he answered the many questions the media posed to him.

Chapter Two

The sun was shining brightly on the small turboprop airplane as it made its final approach to the dirt runway. Trying to remind himself that the pilot was an expert, American archaeologist Chauncy Rollock sat with both hands tightly gripping the arms of his seat. Despite the number of times he had landed on remote, barely maintained runways, the deep blue eyes under his blond crew cut showed that it never failed to scare the daylights out of him.

“Come now, Chauncy,” chided his associate Mack Estlund. “Surely you know they wouldn’t let anybody but the best pilots fly us here.”

Chauncy tried his best to appear relaxed and carefree as he turned to look at the taller, lankier man. “What are you talking about, Mack?”

Mack smiled knowingly. “I’m talking about the permanent indentations you are making in the armrests of your seat.”

Chauncy felt his face warming as he consciously relinquished his grip on the armrests. “Let’s just say I’m not overly fond of landing, Mack.”

Mack smiled. “I know.”

Chauncy ignored the windows at both edges of his vision. He could tell by the whine of the engines and the plane’s angle that they were only seconds from landing and he found himself gripping his chair again. The plane touched down with a minimum of jerking. The cabin door opened and the pilot smiled at his passengers.

“Welcome to the Yucatan Peninsula, my friends. Please gather your carry-on luggage. My co-pilot will bring the rest of your gear. Thank you again, and may the rest of your journey be fruitful.”

The pilot disappeared into the cockpit and was replaced by the co-pilot, who opened the hatch and lowered the steps. Chauncy and Mack unbuckled their belts and assembled their bags. The rest of their luggage was waiting at the bottom of the steps.

The co-pilot waved as he re-boarded the plane. Moments later it was just a speck among the puffy white clouds. Chauncy dusted himself off and looked around as he chuckled. “Well, Mack, how do you like being left in the middle of nowhere?”

Mack looked around in dismay. He stared for a long time at the place where the plane had disappeared from view, and then sat down on a sturdy piece of luggage. “What if the pilot made a mistake? What if this isn’t the right location? What do we do?”

Detecting the rising fear in Mack’s voice, Chauncy tried to calm him down. “Don’t worry; this isn’t the first time for me.”

Mack gazed at the runway. “Yeah, well that’s good for you, but I would rather be ‘somewhere’ and not ‘no where’ right now.”

Chauncy adjusted his wide-brimmed hat and his sunglasses, surveying the area again. There was no sign of human life, but he knew from experience that the jungle was far from lifeless, no matter how still it seemed at first. If one only knew but to listen, there was much sound. It had been silent when the plane left, but now the silence of the jungle was broken by the sounds of wildlife. Screaming monkeys, an array of bird squawks and songs, hisses of unidentified origin, all blended together. Some would consider it noise, but to Chauncy it was like a beautiful melody.

The sun beat down upon them, and the humidity was well above what they were used to. Dark perspiration spots began to form on their clothes.

Chauncy wiped his brow before stooping to pick up his luggage. “We better start setting up camp and then look for Dr. Sova,” he said as he made his way toward the shade under the canopy of trees. “If there really was a mistake then we have no reason to fear, Mack. We can always use my satellite phone to call for help. Of course it had better be an emergency - I’m sure you know how much it costs for each call.”

Chauncy started to walk the perimeter of the airstrip, wondering how the landing had been as smooth as it had been. Calling it an airstrip was far too generous; it was more like a dirt road, a simple break in the jungle canopy. Perhaps if he looked hard enough he could locate a way out of the primitive landing area with the intent of finding a civilized area. Instead of joining the search, Mack just sat on his luggage, apparently wondering what to do.

The lack of a welcoming committee had obviously thrown him for a loop. Chauncy felt that talking to Mack would raise his spirits. “I’ve found two roads so far that go off into the jungle,” he called out, picking his way carefully along the edge of the trees. “Neither appears like it has been used for a while…no, wait…here we go!” He smiled broadly, turning back to look at Mack. “There are fresh tire tracks on this one, my friend, all is not lost.”

Before Mack could respond, the distant sound of a vehicle came to them through the jungle. Chauncy stood for a moment, his head tilted at a slight angle, identifying the sound. After a few seconds his smile returned. “It’s definitely getting closer, and if I had to guess, I’d say it is coming down this road too. Cheer up Mack, I think our ride is here.”

As Chauncy stepped back to the luggage, a large and luxurious SUV crossed the runway. A small man dressed in safari khakis stepped out of the passenger side. Chauncy immediately recognized the gray hair and white goatee of the famous Dr. Sova.

Sova walked toward the two men and introduced himself, even though he knew he wouldn’t have to. “Good morning, Mr. Estlund, Mr. Rollock. My name is Dr. Sova. Please, you must forgive me for the delay - we were quite busy with another matter. I’m sure you understand.”

“Think nothing of it,” replied Chauncy as the chauffeur loaded their luggage.

As they drove slowly through the dust they generated along the bumpy road, Chauncy relished the cushy interior of the vehicle, since it was as far removed as possible from the environment outside. The leather seats were very comfortable, and the air conditioning was a welcome relief. Despite the jarring ride, Chauncy knew what mattered more than the environment or the condition of the road was their destination: Temple #22. Mack and Chauncy had been chosen as the representatives of the United States in the multinational archaeological undertaking. The only paleontologists, they had been invited because it was believed that the skeletal remains of King Chac would be found in the pyramid.

To fill the long drive, Chauncy took advantage of the privilege of speaking with the great Dr. Sova. They discussed the general state of the project, the overall mission, and the progress that had so far been made in clearing out the temple.

“We are making fine advancement indeed.” Dr. Sova’s voice was rich with professional excitement. “Most of the overgrown plant material has been cleared. Soon we will be able to make our ascent to the top of the temple and from there we will need to pry open the flagstone on the top floor in order to gain access to the tunnel.”

He paused as the vehicle hit a rather large pothole. “You two are the last men I have invited to this project, and therefore the last to arrive. Once we have access to the tunnel we will then be disinterring the remains of King Chac, and I will need you two paleontologists to analyze his skeleton.”

The vehicle came across another particularly rough spot on the road, and this time the conversation did not resume or a while.

It was almost exactly an hour later when they arrived at the foot of the imposing pyramid. As he got out of the vehicle, Chauncy couldn’t help but stare at the muted grandeur of the place. The first thing that came to his mind was how vertical the structure was. He wondered idly whether any of the ancients had lost their foothold and fallen to their deaths while climbing the temple. It wasn’t a pleasant mental image. He shook his head in an effort to rid himself of the thought, and gazed at the details of the pyramid.

It had the weathered and eroded look that was peculiar to buildings with centuries of neglect and abandon behind them. It was obvious to the paleontologist that at one time the temple was adorned with vivid, colorful paint, but dark and nearly indiscernible streaks replaced what had once been vibrant color.

It taxed the imagination to visualize that this place and other silent temples of the area had once been a thriving metropolis with a dynamic economy.

Dr. Sova led the way to a large courtyard, which had been improvised as base camp. Many tents had been erected and there was a large outdoor kitchen. Even from a distance, Chauncy could smell the food.

When they made it to the large open sitting area, Chauncy was surprised to see how many people there were. They were sitting on benches, chairs, or the ground, eating, chatting, studying maps and diagrams, plotting their work. Dr. Sova introduced the two Americans to the rest of the international crew, all of whom had already been working at the site for some time. The doctor did the introductions in at least four languages, which impressed Chauncy. The various professionals and workers offered their welcomes in their respective languages, with Dr. Sova translating for most before carting the two paleontologists off to show them their tents.

They arrived at Mack’s tent first, and Dr. Sova recommended he get settled in before exploring. Mack agreed and exchanged farewells with Chauncy. Once Mack had disappeared into his tent, Dr. Sova motioned Chauncy to follow. The linguist immediately set off, Chauncy right behind him.

But instead of continuing down the line of small tents, Dr. Sova was making his way toward a very large white tent structure, one of the biggest in the camp. Chauncy felt his eyebrows lifting - was this the doctor’s tent, or his own?

His question was answered the second they arrived. “This is my humble abode,” Dr. Sova said jovially. “Please, come in.”

Chauncy followed the doctor inside and was astounded to see modern conveniences in stark contrast to the primitive surroundings of the jungle. Chauncy could hear, and feel, an air conditioning unit and generator hard at work. The tent appeared to have several rooms partitioned with cloth doors. From where he stood Chauncy could see a full-sized kitchen with a microwave, refrigerator, and other modern amenities. He was obviously in the living room portion of the tent, as there were several plush chairs, a couch, and a coffee table.

Dr. Sova’s personal chef was busy preparing a meal. The linguist called to the cook and asked something in French that Chauncy didn’t catch. Moments later the cook returned with two glasses and a bottle of wine. He placed the glasses on the coffee table and poured the wine, leaving the bottle and returning to the kitchen.

“Come, sit down,” the doctor invited, taking a seat himself in one of the chairs near the coffee table. He picked up his glass of wine and raised it in a toast. “Congratulations, Mr. Rollock!”

Chauncy sat down, perplexed about the whole situation. “If I may ask, what exactly are you congratulating me for?”

Dr. Sova laughed before taking a long drink from his glass. He did not answer Chauncy immediately; instead he leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and took a cigar from a metal case in his vest pocket. Clipping the end off, he lit it and took a puff from it. As he exhaled the smoke he finally looked at Chauncy.

“You passed the test! You were the only one who did. The Russians, the Europeans, the Mexicans, the Canadians, even your American colleague - everyone out there in this camp, they all failed,” he said as he waved his hand in disdain.