Read The Golden Keel / The Vivero Letter Online

Authors: Desmond Bagley

Tags: #fiction

The Golden Keel / The Vivero Letter (47 page)

I was flailing away with the machete when the blade hit something with a hell of a clang and the shock jolted up my arm. I looked at the edge and saw it had blunted and I wondered what the devil I’d hit. I swung again, more cautiously, clearing away the broad-bladed leaves, and suddenly I saw a face staring at me—a broad, Indian face with a big nose and slightly crossed eyes.

Half an hour’s energetic work revealed a pillar into which was incorporated a statue of sorts of a man elaborately dressed in a long belted tunic and with a complicated headdress. The rest of the pillar was intricately carved with a design of leaves and what looked like over-sized insects.

I lit a cigarette and contemplated it for a long time. It began to appear that perhaps we had found Uaxuanoc, although being a layman I couldn’t be certain. However, no one would carve a thing like that just to leave it lying about in the forest. It was a pity in a way, because now I’d have to go somewhere else to carve my helicopter platform—the chopper certainly couldn’t land on top of this cross-eyed character who stood about eight feet tall.

I went back to the edge of the cenote and started to carve a new path delimiting the area I wanted to clear, and a few random forays disclosed no more pillars, so I got busy. As I expected, the flame-thrower ran out of juice long before I had finished but at least I had used it to the best advantage to leave the minimum of machete work. Then I got going with the chain saw, cutting as close to the ground as I could, and there was a shriek as the teeth bit into the wood.

None of the trees were particularly thick through the trunk, the biggest being about two and a half feet. But they were tall and I had trouble there. I was no lumberjack and I made mistakes—the first tree nearly knocked me into the cenote as it fell, and it fell the wrong way, making a hell of a tangle that I had to clean up laboriously. But I learned and by the time darkness came I had felled sixteen trees.

I slept that night in a sleeping-bag which stank disgustingly of petrol because the chain saw around which it had been wrapped had developed a small leak. I didn’t mind because I thought the smell might keep the mosquitoes away. It didn’t.

I ate tinned cold chicken and drank whisky from the flask Fallon had thoughtfully provided, diluting it with warmish water from a water-bottle, and I sat there in the darkness thinking of the little brown people with big noses who had carved that big pillar and who had possibly built a city on this spot. After a while I fell asleep.

Morning brought the helicopter buzzing overhead and a man dangling like a spider from the cable winch. I still hadn’t cleared up enough for it to land but there was enough manoeuvring space for Rider to drop a man by winch, and the man proved to be Halstead. He dropped heavily to the ground at the edge of the cenote and waved Rider away. The helicopter rose and slowly circled.

Halstead came over to me and then looked around. ‘This isn’t where you’d intended to clear the ground. Why the change?’

‘I ran into difficulties,’ I said.

He grinned humourlessly. ‘I thought you might.’ He looked at the tree stumps. ‘You haven’t got on very well, have you? You should have done better than this.’

I waved my arm gracefully. ‘I bow to superior knowledge. Be my guest—go right ahead and improve the situation.’

He grunted but didn’t take me up on the offer. Instead he unslung the long box he carried on his shoulder, and extended an antenna. ‘We had a couple of walkie-talkies sent up from Camp One. We can talk to Rider. What do we need to finish the job?’

‘Juice for the saw and the flamer; dynamite for the stumps—and a man to use it, unless you have the experience. I’ve never used explosives in my life.’

‘I can use it,’ he said curtly, and started to talk to Rider. In a few minutes the chopper was low overhead again and a couple of jerrycans of fuel were lowered to us. Then it buzzed off and we got to work.

To give Halstead his due, he worked like a demon. Two pairs of hands made a difference, too, and we’d done quite a lot before the helicopter came back. This time a box of gelignite came down, and after it Fallon descended with his pockets full of detonators. He turned them over to Halstead, and looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. ‘You look as
though you’ve been dragged through a bush backwards.’ He looked about him. ‘You’ve done a good job.’

‘I have something to show you,’ I said and led him along the narrow path I had driven the previous day. ‘I ran across Old-Cross-eyes here; he hampered the operation a bit.’

Fallon threw a fit of ecstatics and damned near clasped Cross-eyes to his bosom. ‘Old Empire!’ he said reverently, and ran his hands caressingly over the carved stone.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a stele—a Mayan date stone. In a given community they erected a stele every katun—that’s a period of nearly twenty years.’ He looked back along the path towards the cenote. ‘There should be more of these about; they might even ring the cenote.’

He began to strip the clinging creepers away and I could see he’d be no use anywhere else. I said, ‘Well, I’ll leave you two to get acquainted. I’ll go help Halstead blow himself up.’

‘All right,’ he said absently. Then he turned. ‘This is a marvellous find. It will help us date the city right away.’

‘The city?’ I waved my hand at the benighted wilderness. ‘Is
this
Uaxuanoc?’

He looked up at the pillar. ‘I have no doubt about it. Stelae of this complexity are found only in cities. Yes, I think we’ve found Uaxuanoc.’

IV

We had a hell of a job getting Fallon away from his beloved pillar and back to Camp Two. He mooned over it like a lover who had just found his heart’s desire, and filled a notebook with squiggly drawings and pages of indecipherable scribblings. Late that afternoon we practically had to carry him to the helicopter, which had landed precariously at the edge
of the cenote, and during the flight back he muttered to himself all the way.

I was very tired, but after a luxurious hot bath I felt eased in body and mind, eased enough to go into the big hut and join the others instead of falling asleep. I found Fallon and Halstead hot in the pursuit of knowledge, with Katherine hovering on the edge of the argument in her usual role of Halstead-quietener.

I listened in for a time, not understanding very much of what was going on and was rather surprised to find Halstead the calmer of the two. After the outbursts of the last few weeks, I had expected him to blow his top when we actually found Uaxuanoc, but he was as cold as ice and any discussion he had with Fallon was purely intellectual. He seemed as uninterested as though he’d merely found a sixpence in the street instead of the city he’d been bursting a gut trying to find.

It was Fallon who was bubbling over with excitement. He was as effervescent as a newly opened bottle of champagne and could hardly keep still as he shoved his sketches under Halstead’s nose. ‘Definitely Old Empire,’ he insisted. ‘Look at the glyphs.’

He went into a rigmarole which seemed to be in a foreign language. I said, ‘Ease up, for heaven’s sake! What about letting me in on the secret?’

He stopped and looked at me in astonishment. ‘But I’m telling you.’

‘You’d better tell me in English.’

He leaned back in his chair and shook his head sadly. ‘To explain the Mayan calendar would take me more time than I have to spare, so you’ll have to take my word for a lot of this. But look here.’ He pushed over a set of his squiggles which I recognized as the insects I had seen sculpted on the pillar. ‘That’s the date of the stele—it reads: “9 Cycles, 12 Katuns, 10 Tuns, 12 Kins, 4 Eb, 10 Yax”, and that’s a total of
1,386,112 days, or 3,797 years. Since the Mayan datum from which all time measurement started was 3113
B.C.
, then that gives us a date of 684
A.D.

He picked up the paper. ‘There’s a bit more to it—the Mayas were very accurate—it was 18 days after the new moon in the first cycle of six.’

He had said all that very rapidly and I felt a bit dizzy. ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ I said. ‘Are you telling me that Uaxuanoc is nearly thirteen hundred years old?’

‘That stele is,’ he said positively. ‘The city is older, most likely.’

‘That’s a long time before Vivero,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘Would the city have been occupied that long?’

‘You’re confusing Old Empire with New Empire,’ he said. ‘The Old Empire collapsed about 800 A.D. and the cities were abandoned, but over a hundred years later there was an invasion of Toltecs—the Itzas—and some of the cities were rehabilitated like Chichen Itza and a few others. Uaxuanoc was one of them, very likely.’ He smiled. ‘Vivero referred often to the Temple of Kukulkan in Uaxuanoc. We have reason to believe that Kukulkan was a genuine historical personage; the man who led the Toltecs into Yucatan, very much as Moses led the Children of Israel into the Promised Land. Certainly the Mayan-Toltec civilization of the New Empire bore very strong resemblances to the Aztec Empire of Mexico and was rather unlike the Mayan Old Empire. There was the prevalence of human sacrifice, for one thing. Old Vivero wasn’t wrong about that.’

‘So Uaxuanoc was inhabited at the time of Vivero? I mean, ignoring his letter and going by the historical evidence.’

‘Oh, yes. But don’t get me wrong when I talk of empires. The New Empire had broken up by the time the Spaniards arrived. There were just a lot of petty states and warring provinces which banded together into an uneasy alliance to resist the Spaniards. It may have been the Spaniards who
gave the final push, but the system couldn’t have lasted much longer in any case.’

Halstead had been listening with a bored look on his face. This was all old stuff to him and he was becoming restive. He said, ‘When do we start on it?’

Fallon pondered. ‘We’ll have to have quite a big organization there on the site. It’s going to take a lot of men to clear that forest.’

He was right about that. It had taken three man-days to clear enough ground for a helicopter to land, piloted by a very skilful man. To clear a hundred acres with due archeological care was going to take a small army a hell of a long time.

He said, ‘I think we’ll abandon this camp now and pull back to Camp One. I’ll get Joe Rudetsky busy setting up Camp Three on the site. Now we can get a helicopter in it shouldn’t prove too difficult. We’ll need quarters for twenty men to start with, I should think. It will take at least a fortnight to get settled in.’

‘Why wait until then?’ asked Halstead impatiently. ‘I can get a lot of work done while that’s going on. The rainy season isn’t far off.’

‘We’ll get the logistics settled first,’ said Fallon sharply. ‘It will save time in the long run.’

‘The hell with that!’ said Halstead. ‘I’m going to go up there and have a look round anyway. I’ll leave you to run your goddamn logistics.’ He leaned forward. ‘Can’t you see what’s waiting to be picked up there—right on the ground? Even Wheale stumbled over something important first crack out of the box, only he was too dumb to see what it was.’

‘It’s been there thirteen hundred years,’ said Fallon. ‘It will still be there in another three weeks—when we can go about the job properly.’

‘Well, I’m going to do a preliminary survey,’ said Halstead stubbornly.

‘No, you’re not,’ said Fallon definitely. ‘And I’ll tell you why you’re not. Nobody is going to take you—I’ll see to that. Unless you’re prepared to take a stroll through the forest.’

‘Damn you!’ said Halstead violently. He turned to his wife. ‘You wouldn’t believe me, would you? You’ve been hypnotized by what Wheale’s been telling you. Can’t you see he wants to keep it to himself; that he wants first publication?’

‘I don’t give a damn about first publication,’ said Fallon energetically. ‘All I want is for the job to be done properly. You don’t start excavating a city in the manner of a graverobber.’

Their voices were rising, so I said, ‘Let’s keep this quiet, shall we?’

Halstead swung on me, and his voice cracked. ‘You keep out of this. You’ve been doing me enough damage as it is—crawling to my wife behind my back and turning her against me. You’re all against me—the lot of you.’

‘Nobody’s against you,’ said Fallon. ‘If we were against you, you wouldn’t be here at all.’

I cut in fast. ‘And any more of this bloody nonsense and you’ll be out right now. I don’t see why we have to put up with you, so just put a sock in it and act like a human being.’

I thought he was going to hit me. His chair went over with a crash as he stood up. ‘For Christ’s sake!’ he said furiously, and stamped out of the hut.

Katherine stood up. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘It’s not your fault,’ said Fallon. He turned to me. ‘Psychiatry isn’t my forte, but that looks like paranoia to me. That man has a king-size persecution complex.’

‘It looks very like it.’

‘Again I ask you to release me from my promise,’ he said.

Katherine was looking very unhappy and disturbed. I said slowly, ‘I told you there had been other promises.’

‘Maybe,’ said Fallon. ‘But Paul, being in the mood he is, could endanger all of us. This isn’t a good part of the world for personal conflicts.’

I said slowly, ‘Katherine, if you can get Paul to see sense and come back and apologize, then he can stay. Otherwise he’s definitely out—and I mean it. That puts it entirely in your hands, you understand.’

In a small voice she said, ‘I understand.’

She went out and Fallon looked at me. ‘I think you’re making a mistake. He’s not worth it.’ He pulled out his pipe and started to fill it. After a moment he said in a low voice, ‘And neither is she.’

‘I’ve not fallen for her,’ I said. ‘I’m just bloody sorry for her. If Halstead gets pushed out now, her life won’t be worth living.’

He struck a match and looked at the flame. ‘Some people can’t tell the difference between love and pity,’ he said obscurely.

V

We flew down to the coast and Camp One early next morning. Halstead had slept on it, but not much, because the connubial argument had gone on long into the night. But she had evidently won because he apologized. It wasn’t a very convincing apology and came as haltingly as though it were torn from him by hot pincers, but I judged it politic to accept it. After all, it was the first time in my experience that he had apologized for anything, so perhaps, although it came hesitantly, it was because it was an unaccustomed exercise. Anyway, it was a victory of sorts.

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