The Balance Omnibus

by Alan Baxter

  Katherine Bailey sat with Thomas in the shade of a large, low tree, watching the bustle of activity before her. Men and women moved around the site so purposefully, each with their own organised agenda, their own part to play in revealing the mysterious past of this remarkable place. Following their lunch and further idle chat about the proceedings, Pedro Sanchez had excused himself to continue fulfilling his own role. Possibly the most important one, that of keeping everything going. He had said himself that the hardest part of his job seemed to be maintaining the morale of his workers, keeping everybody occupied, while making sure things got done properly, in the right order. He had agreed to meet with them again this evening, after dinner. Things were calmer after dark, he had said, making it easier to relax. In the meantime, they had the run of the site, and were to feel free to observe any activity. So long as they touched nothing without permission.

  ‘I could watch people work all day,’ Thomas said dryly.

  Katherine laughed. ‘It’s an amazing thing to watch, isn’t it? All these people, discovering something new every other moment, another piece of the past.’

  Thomas nodded. ‘But I wonder how many of them have any real idea of quite what it is they’re uncovering.’

  Katherine turned to face him, brow creased. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They’re a poor people, Katherine. They need to survive, to support their families, so they work as hard as they can. I somehow think that the beauty of discovery is far from their minds.’

  Katherine looked back over the site. ‘Yes, but it’s their past, their history that they’re uncovering. Surely they appreciate that.’

  Thomas sighed. ‘I’m not so sure, my dear. The past for people like this is often best left forgotten. The history of these people is one of bloodshed and conquest, followed by struggle and poverty and unrest. I think all they really appreciate is the chance to make a few dollars from the American interest in their past. I’m glad Sanchez is in charge. I’m sure that single thing makes them feel a lot less sacrilegious.’

  Katherine was surprised. ‘Sacrilegious?’

  ‘Certainly. When you come right down to it, my dear, these people are nothing more than slightly educated grave robbers. Look at their faces, look in their eyes. I don’t think that many of them are very proud of what they’re doing.’

  Katherine sat quietly for a moment, thinking. ‘It’s an interesting angle for the story,’ she said eventually. ‘I must make a point of trying to interview some of the workers, get their perspective.’

  ‘Indeed. How’s your Spanish?’

  Katherine made a rueful face. ‘Awful, I’m afraid. Yours?’

  Thomas laughed. ‘Absolutely non-existent, my dear! I bought a phrasebook before I left that I haven’t even opened yet.’

  Katherine looked thoughtful. ‘I did know some Spanish. Some of it I remember.’ She paused. ‘I went to school with a Spanish girl,’ she said, almost to herself. Thomas looked at her, his eyes soft. Katherine went on in a stronger voice. ‘She was a lovely girl, her personality and her looks. We were young, just ten years old, and we played together for a whole summer. She was in a couple of my classes and we became friendly, then there came that endless summer holiday. Remember when you were a kid and the summer seemed to last forever?’

  Drake smiled, but said nothing. Katherine looked at him for a moment before continuing. For some reason she felt that she could tell him anything and he would understand, never judging. ‘Her name was Salma, my Spanish friend. She had the most beautiful smile and a laugh like angels singing. We had a hideout in the woods behind our street, deep in amongst the pine trees. We used to go there and talk and play and smoke my mom’s cigarettes.’ Katherine chuckled at the recollection, but it was a sad sound.

  ‘You smoked your first cigarettes at ten years old?’ Thomas asked.

  Katherine shook her head. ‘Not really. We puffed and choked on them and made ourselves feel sick until we decided it was a stupid thing to keep doing. We were young and I guess that excuses a lot of stupidity. Growing up is often a case of running out of excuses.

  ‘Anyway, I remember Salma teaching me some Spanish. I used to love the sound of her and her mother talking to each other. Damn, it even sounded cool when her mother was scolding her! I begged her to teach me some and she did, but it all seems like it was so long ago now. I hardly remember any of it.’

  ‘Are you still friends with Salma?’ Thomas asked.

  Katherine’s face darkened, her mouth pressing into a thin, flat line. ‘No.’ She took a deep breath, then, ‘It was near the end of that endless summer and we were at our hideout in the woods one morning. We were playing at being princesses. We did that a lot. We would be sister princesses in a magical realm and we were friends to all the animals and birds. We would ride unicorns and fly through the clouds on the backs of magnificent golden dragons. We could talk to the jays and the sparrows and the deer would dart past with gnomes and elves on their backs. We lived in the most wonderful fairy tale land that whole summer. It was so real.’ Katherine’s eyes were distant, slightly damp. ‘Then Salma had to go to see her grandparents one afternoon. Rather than go home myself I told her that I’d stay at the hideout and look after her dragon and her unicorn for her.’ A tear broke free of Katherine’s lashes and rolled down her cheek, glistening like a diamond in the sunlight.

  Thomas caught it on one finger, wiping it away. ‘You really don’t have to continue, my dear,’ he said quietly. ‘This is obviously not a good memory.’

  Katherine took a deep, slightly shuddering breath. ‘No, it’s okay. You see, about an hour after Salma had left I decided to go home too. It wasn’t so much fun without her and I felt hungry. When I came out of the woods there were people all around and my mom came running up to me and scooped me up into her arms, kissing me all over. She was saying, ‘Where’s Salma, honey? Where’s Salma?’ and she looked so relieved like I was going to tell her. I told her that Salma had left to go home an hour ago because she had to go to her grandparents. Then Salma’s mom burst into tears, wailing for her baby. Salma hadn’t come home and no one knew where she was. I didn’t know what all the fuss was about because it had only been an hour, but inside I knew that something was wrong. They found her body two days later, buried among the pine needles a mile away from our hideout. A mile the wrong way from home. She was abused and beaten and broken.’ Katherine hitched a sob. ‘My darling little friend.’

  Thomas put an arm around her shoulders, gently stroked her hair. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  Katherine took a deep breath. With a slight shake of her head she buried it all in the past again. ‘That was a long time ago. Life is cruel sometimes.’

  They sat in silence for a moment, then Katherine looked at Thomas again. ‘What about you?’ she asked, changing the subject. Thomas raised an eyebrow. ‘Your childhood, I mean. It must have been very different from mine, in England, how long ago?’

  Thomas looked away at the clouds. ‘My dear, it was a long time ago indeed.’ He looked back at her. ‘Anyway, you were talking about interviewing some of the workers. How do you think you’ll do that?’

  Katherine narrowed her eyes. Avoiding the subject, old man? ‘Well, I guess we need an interpreter. I bet Pedro’s too busy though, I don’t want to bother him with it really.’ She thought a moment longer, then, ‘I know! Come on, I know just the man to help us.’ She jumped up and headed across the site. After a few paces she stopped, looked back. ‘Come on, Thomas!’

  Thomas sighed, getting slowly to his feet, holding the camera from swinging. ‘I was really rather comfy there, you know.’

  ‘Thomas, my dear, we have work to do!’ Katherine’s attempt at an English accent was comical, but Drake smiled, following her across the sandy ground.

  On the opposite side of the site, near the showers, was a large, dark green tent. The front was an open double flap with a solid looking wooden pole supporting it. A wooden cross hung from the pole.

  Inside it w
as dim and cool. Cool compared to outside at least. There were several benches lined up on either side, just like the pews of a regular church, with an altar at the far end. The altar cloth was clean and bright, stark against the darkness around it. Two large candles flickered and danced, either side of a figurine of the Virgin Mary. Katherine stopped halfway along the aisle between the benches. ‘Father Paleros?’

  The priests voice sounded from the doorway behind them. ‘Yes, my dear?’

  ‘Oh!’ Katherine turned around. ‘There you are.’

  ‘I saw you heading this way. What can I do for you?’

  Thomas was looking around the large tent. ‘Quite a church you have here,’ he observed. ‘Considering the location I mean.’

  ‘Yes. Many of the workers here need somewhere to praise God. And hopefully, most of the others who have yet to see the light will soon come to realise the peace and sanctuary of praising Him. Are you a religious man, Mr Drake?’

  Thomas smiled, flicking a wink at Katherine. ‘After a fashion, old boy. I believe Miss Bailey wanted to ask a favour of you.’

  Katherine grinned. Neatly avoided, old man. ‘Yes,’ she said aloud. ‘I wondered if I might prevail upon you to act as an interpreter for a little while this afternoon.’

  Father Paleros raised one eyebrow. ‘Interpreter?’

  ‘I wanted to interview some of the workers, get a more rounded view of the operation, but I’m afraid neither Thomas or I have the Spanish to cope.’

  ‘I would be very happy to help, my dear. Though I would warn you that you may have some difficulty getting any information.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Many of the workers are village folk, simple people. But let’s try all the same.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  The three of them wandered back out into the bright day, eyes squinted against the harsh sun. Two workers sat not far away, beside one of the tarpaulin covered digs, sipping from battered tin mugs. ‘Do you think they’re on their tea break?’ Thomas asked, pointing.

  Katherine chuckled. ‘Maybe. Let’s go see.’

  The two men looked a little concerned as Katherine, Thomas and the priest approached. Father Paleros spoke to them for a moment, seeming to calm them. ‘I’ve told them that you’d like to ask them some questions,’ he said, turning back to Katherine. ‘Go ahead. I’ll translate.’

  Katherine, using her most friendly smile, crouched down before the two men. She heard Thomas surreptitiously take a photograph. She switched on her dictaphone in her pocket, reluctant to bring it into view. She hoped it would record well enough through the cotton of her light khaki shorts. ‘Well,’ she began, ‘how did you both get involved here?’

  Father Paleros translated the question, listened to their shy replies. ‘Simply by living nearby, they say. Their village is only a few miles away. When Senor Sanchez began excavations and needed more help, he simply visited the nearest villages to offer the people there employment. These men say that most of the people working here are from their village or another just like it nearby.’

  Katherine nodded. ‘I see. And how do they like working here?’ The question seemed fatuous the moment she had said it, but she gamely awaited the response.

  Father Paleros translated. ‘They say they are grateful for the opportunity to earn American dollars, and beg that you don’t cause them to lose their jobs. As I said, my dear, they are very nervous around Americans.’

  Katherine was apologetic. ‘Oh, I really don’t want to make them feel uncomfortable. One last question then. What do they think of the discovery of the crystal skull?’

  As Father Paleros translated the men’s faces grew wary, even fearful. One looked to the ground, letting his friend speak. The man’s voice was agitated, his hands active. There was a fire in his eyes that Katherine found disturbing. She heard Thomas snap another shot. When the man finished speaking she quickly looked to the priest for an explanation. Father Paleros looked sad as he translated. ‘They believe that uncovering the skull is a portent of epic proportions. This man believes that terrible things are going to happen because of it. They greatly fear its power and believe that the pyramid should be sealed again. Forever.’

  Katherine looked sorrowfully at both men. ‘Yet they still work here?’

  Father Paleros nodded. ‘They can’t afford not to.’

  Katherine reached into her pocket, flicked off the dictaphone. She rummaged in her other pocket for a moment before bringing out a small wad of American dollars. She peeled a few off, handing them to the two men. ‘Gracias,’ she said, meaning it more than ever.

  The man that had spoken bowed his head, tentatively taking the money. His friend stood and headed back towards their tarpaulin covered dig. As he walked away, the man with the money leant closer to Katherine, speaking softly in Spanish, then he too went back to work. Katherine stood up, looking questioningly at Father Paleros. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said that you should leave here while you still can. He can see the cloak of death about you.’

  Katherine was a little shocked. ‘The cloak of death?’

  Father Paleros nodded. ‘He says that many will die here because of what has been unearthed. He says chaos is coming.’

  Katherine took a deep breath. ‘Spooky! Do you believe him?’

  Father Paleros’ expression was blank. ‘He believes it. I hope I was of some help. I really must be getting on now.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Thank you very much, Father, you were a lot of help.’

  Father Paleros nodded, turned away. As he headed back towards his church Thomas came and stood beside Katherine. ‘Intriguing.’

  ‘Not to mention disturbing. You know, I think you were right. It would seem that a lot of the people here are really scared by what they’re doing.’ She looked around the site, watching the people. ‘Do you want another look at that skull?’ she asked.

  Thomas raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m not sure we’re allowed.’

  ‘Nonsense. Sanchez said we were to feel free to observe any of the work taking place. Besides, you need to get a photograph, seeing as you forgot last time.’

  Drake cleared his throat. ‘I didn’t forget, my dear. Well, not as such. Well...anyway, it doesn’t matter. All right, let’s go and have another look.’

  Katherine smiled. ‘I knew you wanted to!’

  As they walked towards the pyramid she watched the workers around her. She couldn’t help seeing them in a different light now and she felt sorry for them. People should not have to compromise their morals and ideals in order to survive. The world was certainly an unbalanced place. Peter would have just nodded knowingly at her if she had told him about these people, especially if she mentioned what the worker had just whispered to her. He was convinced that the more undeveloped a culture was, the more they were in contact with phenomena outside the normally accepted parameters. She had tried so many times to explain that a lack of development led to more faith in superstition and myth. That would be when Peter would just nod knowingly, or shrug slightly, refusing to be drawn into an argument about it. He could be infuriating sometimes.

  The cool interior of the pyramid was a welcome relief, Katherine and Thomas both sighing expansively as they entered. They made their way to the wooden trapdoor leading to the subterranean chamber. Katherine bent, carefully lifting it as Pedro Sanchez had, trying not to disturb too much dust. No light came from below this time. ‘Looks like we’re on our own here,’ she muttered. Turning to Drake, she asked, ‘Do you have a flashlight?’

  ‘No. But hang on a moment.’ He trotted back down the corridor, returning a few moments later carrying a large plastic torch. ‘I remembered seeing this earlier.’

  Flicking the torch on she shone it down into the chamber, the light playing across the worn stone steps. ‘It looks like a lot of people used this before they sealed it with the stone Sanchez told us about,’ she said, descending.

  Drake looked at the stonework. ‘Indeed. Though I wonder what for.’
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  Katherine shone the torch around the chamber. It was eerie with the lamplight before, but now it seemed worse. The torch beam made black shadows dance and flicker as it played across the bas relief work, made the walls seem to move, breathe.

  ‘There is something palpably odd about this room,’ Thomas observed. ‘You know, like before a storm when the air is static.’

  Katherine nodded. ‘And last time, that seemed to increase when Sanchez revealed the skull.’

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this now?’

  ‘Are you scared, Thomas Drake?’

  Thomas chuckled quietly. ‘Quite frankly, my dear, yes. Just a little. I think I’m spooked by what that fellow said just before.’

  Katherine crouched in front of the hessian covered alcove. ‘Ready?’

  Thomas looked down at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ‘Surely.’ His eyes glittered mischievously.

  Holding the torch in her left hand, shining it at the alcove, Katherine slowly pulled back the sacking. The familiar sense of weight and silence immediately filled the air, as though the air was thicker than a moment before. The skull absorbed the torchlight, causing it to refract around the alcove, painting stark patterns on the stone. Katherine looked at Thomas, holding the torch up for him to take. As he took it from her he said, ‘Remember, Sanchez asked you not to pick it up.’

  Katherine nodded. ‘I know. I just want to touch it again, but with both hands this time.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I can’t explain it.’ Katherine crouched back on her heels, reaching both hands towards the skull. As gently as she could, she laid her palms either side of it, the heels of her hands beside the eye sockets. The second she touched it the rushing sound once again flooded her mind, thousands of voices all babbling at once. This time there was more. Visions. Colours danced in front of her eyes, swirling, kaleidoscopic. She felt as though her entire body was charged with electricity. Just as she thought she could not take any more, as though she might faint, it stopped abruptly. She let out a gasp as everything became still again, rocking slightly on her heels.