The Eye of Heaven

by Clive Cussler

  “Of course it’s disheartening, but at least we solved the riddle of the manuscript and located the chamber,” Lazlo said.

  “That’s what’s bugging me. I’m not convinced we did. We found a chamber; but the question is, did we find the chamber?”

  Sam turned to her. “What are you saying?”

  “Isn’t it possible that we got something wrong?”

  “We found it. Right where we thought it would be.”

  “Not where we thought it would be—where Antonio and his sister were convinced it would be. But what if they are wrong?”

  “And we just happened to find a crypt by accident?”

  “They’ve been finding new tunnels and chambers around those pyramids for years. Nobody dug that area up before, I’ll bet. We excavated a huge stretch of the base. The odds of finding something aren’t as high as you’d think. And what did we actually find? A looted tomb. That’s all we know. Did you see a lot of images on the walls that would lead you to believe that it was the final resting place of a ruler revered as a god?”

  “Well, actually, now that you mention it, it was rather simple. But still . . .”

  “If you were going to construct a hidden tomb that was legendary for its riches and contained the remains of the most important ruler your civilization had ever known, would you consider that a fitting final resting place?”

  Lazlo nodded from his position in the front seat. “She has a point.”

  Sam studied her face. “Is that what’s got you jittery? That it’s so . . . unimpressive?”

  “I think it’s that, and that I’ve never been a hundred percent convinced that their assurances were right. I’ve had my doubts since they first told us. Don’t ask me why. Call it intuition. But some part of my brain was going, No, that’s not right. I don’t know what I saw that led me in a different direction, but whatever it was, I did, and I’ve learned to trust my instincts.”

  Sam’s face grew serious. “Wait. What did you just say?”

  “Didn’t you hear me?”

  “Of course. You said you don’t know what it is you saw.”

  She looked perplexed. “Right.”

  “What do you mean you saw? Where could you have seen something that would lead you to a different conclusion? What did you see that’s convinced you they got it wrong?”

  Remi thought in silence and, as they approached the gate, shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s just a figure of speech.”

  “I’ve known you for a long time. You’re very precise with your use of language, whether you realize it or not. You said you saw something. Now my question is what?”

  “Sam, I’m really trying to think, but I honestly don’t know. It’s baffling.”

  He nodded. “Let your brain work on it. Don’t keep concentrating. Let it come up with the answer on its own. It’ll come to you when your brain figures it out. Brains are good that way.”

  “Since when do you know so much about brains?” she asked, eyeing him skeptically.

  “That’s how mine works. I figured yours might operate the same way.”

  “If that were true . . .”

  Lazlo was silent, lost in thought during the exchange. When the taxi rolled to a stop, he looked around, as though startled, before climbing out of the cab.

  Sam paid the driver, and they began the walk to the temple from the entry gates. The morning air was cool, a light overcast providing some relief from the sun’s blaze. When they arrived at the site, Antonio was standing under the tarp, studying an image on a large monitor.

  “What’s that?” Sam asked as they approached him.

  “Ah, good morning. This is a feed from a robot that I wrangled from my colleague for a few hours. They’re using it at the other tunnel, but I figured it would speed up our work to have the interior of the chambers filmed before we go crashing around in there.”

  “Excellent idea. Where’s your sister?”

  “She’s down in the trench, operating the remote. It’s on a cable, so she was limited by length.”

  They watched the images flickering on the screen, and Lazlo shook his head when the lens slowly roamed over the carvings. “What do you make of those?”

  “Pretty average for Teotihuacan.”

  “Do they look Toltec?” Remi asked.

  Antonio took a closer look. “Not particularly, but it’s so hard to tell until we have a chance to really—”

  “But your first impression is that they look more like the others here?”

  Antonio slowly turned to face Remi. “What are you getting at?”

  “Something tells me that this find, while interesting, isn’t what we were looking for.”

  His eyes widened. “What?”

  She explained her reservations to him, taking him through her thinking process. When she was done, Antonio didn’t look quite as confident as he had when they’d arrived.

  “But you don’t know what it was you saw that made you question the location?”

  She frowned. “Not yet. But it’s a strong feeling.”

  Sam moved toward the excavation. “Good morning,” he called down to Maribela, who was staring at a smaller monitor set up on a card table near the crypt entry, maneuvering a joystick to direct the robot beneath her feet. She pressed a button and looked up at him with a smile.

  “Buenos días to you as well.”

  “You didn’t happen to find an incredible treasure while we were running late, did you?”

  “No. Anything of value was taken long ago.”

  “What’s your impression of the carvings? I only saw a few.”

  “Too early to say.”

  “Did they strike you as appropriate homage to a breathing incarnation of a god?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My impression from yesterday was that they’re pretty humble.”

  “Mmm,” she said noncommittally. “‘Humble’ . . .”

  Remi approached, trailed by Lazlo. “Sam, I know what it was.”

  Maribela regarded them with confusion.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “The Cuban carvings. The pyramid. With the cloud over it. In both that image, as well as the one at the new find of the same scene, there’s always a second building.”

  “There is?”

  “Yes. A smaller temple.”

  “And?”

  “Why?” Remi asked with a satisfied tone. “Why is there a smaller temple?”

  Sam paused. “You’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”

  Lazlo cleared his throat and took over. “Because the pyramid is an orientation point, not the actual location of the tomb.”

  Maribela eyed him skeptically. “How do you know?”

  Remi stepped forward. “There’s the pyramid and the cloud. But barely visible in the cloud is the same thing: the moon. The cloud obstructs most of it, but it’s there.”

  “Okay . . .”

  Remi shook her head. “We got it wrong. It’s the Pyramid of the Moon that’s the location. We were so fixated on Quetzalcoatl, we were looking for snakes. And the depictions are confusing. Just like the account in the manuscript.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She gazed into Sam’s eyes. “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. We’ve been looking in the wrong spot.”

  Lazlo glanced around before speaking. “I think it’s about time that I take that trip to the earthquake site I’ve been requesting and take a hard look at the pictographs in person. With all due respect, before we continue down this road it would be nice to know that we haven’t missed anything else.”

  Remi nodded. “I agree.” She turned to Antonio. “Do you think we could get access today?”

  “I don’t see why not. Let me make a call and alert the team that we’re on our way. I’ll drive you myself.”

  Maribela eyed the dig, hands on her hips. “I’ll stay here and supervise the workers.”

  Antonio checked his watch. “All right, then. I’ll call from the
car. No point wasting any time.”

  The roads to López Mateos were clogged with late-morning traffic as the big SUV rolled past the deteriorating buildings into the center of the district, now largely recovered from the earthquake. The little street with the tomb entrance was still closed to traffic, and a contingent of soldiers was standing guard. Antonio displayed his credentials and they were allowed on foot down the well-trodden path into the dig site.

  The leader in charge of the project approached Antonio and shook hands, and, after a short discussion in Spanish, moved past the group into the sunlight. Antonio squinted as his eyes adjusted to the gloom in the crypt, and he turned to Lazlo and the Fargos.

  “Sam, Remi, you’ve been here before, so you know the precautions to take. Lazlo, most of the areas have been cordoned off so as not to cause any damage as we excavate and document the findings. I’ll ask you to respect that and to avoid touching anything. I’ve instructed the crew to take lunch early so the site will be all yours for the next two hours.”

  “Of course. You’ll never know I was here,” Lazlo assured him.

  “And thank you again for doing this,” Remi said.

  “Hopefully, it’ll yield positive results.” Antonio motioned with an outstretched hand. “This way. We’ll start with what we’re calling the main burial vault.”

  They moved slowly down the passageway to the junction, and Antonio led them into the largest of the rooms. He switched on several more lamps, so they could better study the pictographs, and stood back.

  “Again, be careful of the areas on the ground with the stakes and chalk around them. Those are artifacts that remain to be unearthed,” he reminded the group, and they nodded as he neared the first of the elaborate carvings that spanned the wall.

  Remi joined him and pointed at the pictograph. “Here’s the procession, you see? Exactly as in the photos.”

  “Really remarkable in person, isn’t it?” Lazlo murmured, taking in the entirety of the image before moving closer to study the detail. “Must have taken them ages. Incredible handiwork . . .”

  “And there are more on the burial platform, as well as on the other walls. But this one is repeated in all the chambers, so it no doubt had significance to the Toltec,” Antonio said.

  “See? There it is. Obviously, the Temple of the Feathered Serpent,” Sam said, pointing to the ornately carved depiction of the six-level step pyramid.

  “Yes, I’d wager so . . .” Lazlo agreed, eyes narrowing as he inched nearer.

  Remi began photographing the pictographs again in case she’d missed something on her earlier pass, and Sam edged to the far wall to study the carvings there. Lazlo spent several minutes poring over the depiction of the procession, muttering softly to himself, before joining Sam.

  “That’s the one repeated in all the rooms?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll just have a look, then. Might as well since we’re here.”

  “You should go with Antonio. He’ll show you the way.”

  “Of course. Wouldn’t want to get lost or wander into a local watering hole.”

  Lazlo and Antonio moved down the stone corridor to the next vault as Remi stared at the images of pyramids with furious concentration, as though through sheer force of will she might have a breakthrough that would shed light on the true location of Quetzalcoatl’s tomb.

  “It’s pretty obvious that it’s Teotihuacan now that we’ve been there, isn’t it?” Sam said.

  “Yes, so we’re in the ballpark. That’s something.”

  “And that’s got to be the Pyramid of the Sun.”

  “I’d think so, based on its size.”

  Sam shook his head. “Then the Temple of the Feathered Serpent can’t be the correct spot. Look at the orientation.”

  “I agree. But again, Antonio and Maribela are the experts and they thought—”

  Sam was interrupted by Lazlo, hurrying back into the vault. Remi turned to look at him, taking in the excitement on his normally placid face.

  “I think I’ve got it, dear boy. Took me a while. And fiendishly clever, whoever carved these. Frankly, if you didn’t know what to look for, you’d never figure it out. Certainly not from the photographs—no offense.”

  “What are you talking about?” Remi asked.

  “The pictographs are slightly different in each of the tombs. It’s subtle, but they are.”

  “Are you sure?” Sam asked.

  “Absolutely. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Lazlo led them into the chamber next to the one they’d been in and pointed to the pictograph. “See? The dignitaries are positioned differently, and so are the landmarks. That pyramid is more to the right.”

  Sam frowned. “That could be natural variation. Just a result of the materials available or the artist. Meaningless.”

  “True. But now let’s go into the next room. You’ll see yet another slight difference.”

  “If the artists were carving from an illustration, as they most likely were, there’s probably no significance to any of it,” Antonio said from the threshold.

  “Normally, I’d agree with you. But humor me. Let’s go to the next one.”

  Everyone filed into the third vault, where two lamps bathed the carvings in light.

  “Yet more variation, do you see?”

  Remi nodded slowly and took several photos. “I do. But what does it mean?”

  Lazlo’s face cracked into a wry grin. “That’s really the question, isn’t it? To know the answer, you have to get a little lost.”

  Sam and Remi exchanged a puzzled glance.

  “Sorry. I’m not following you,” Sam said.

  “I wanted to confirm my suspicion, so I went to look at the fourth tomb. There, in the dark antechamber, I could make out carvings on the wall at nearly ceiling height—above eye level. There was no lamp, which made it hard to see, so I borrowed Antonio’s penlight. And what do you think it was?”

  Sam shook his head. “GPS coordinates?”

  “Ha. Close. Come. Have a look.”

  He led them into the narrow stone corridor to the far tomb and stopped before entering. Remi directed her penlight beam at the carving Lazlo was pointing at. “Look familiar?” he asked.

  “It’s the procession again.”

  “Indeed it is. Except look closer. Do you see something that isn’t in any of the larger carvings?”

  Sam stepped nearer to Remi, nodding.

  “We’ll I’ll be . . .”

  Remi looked up at Sam’s profile, realization written across her face.

  “Those are planets and stars.”

  Lazlo nodded like a proud father. “Yes, they are. And with the celestial waypoints, we should be able to decipher where the true location of the tomb lies.”

  Back in the second tomb, Antonio gestured at the procession pictograph. “In this one, there are faint outlines of the moon and several stars, too. But almost as an afterthought.”

  “Yes, as there are in one of the others. Only the constellations are as different as the drawings, I’m afraid,” Lazlo confirmed.

  “Then I don’t understand. How will we know which of the depictions is the correct one?”

  Lazlo stood mute for a moment, thinking. “I can’t help but believe that the repeated pictograph has meaning. I’m guessing that it’s an astronomical depiction—a clue to those who were adept at reading the stars. Maybe . . . Maybe the reason that the position of the landmarks is different in each rendition is because the images are representations of the same thing at different times of the year. Major events. Summer solstice, winter solstice . . .”

  “How will we decide?” Remi asked.

  Lazlo’s eyes widened. “You have images of the manuscript and the pictographs from Cuba, right?”

  “Of course. But they’re back at the motel.”

  “Then that’s where we need to go next,” Lazlo said.

  “Why?”

  “Because, if I’m not mistaken, the manuscript
holds the final clue that will enable us to unravel this riddle. Remi, take another series of photos of each room’s pictographs, in order, as we’d see them if we were moving from the primary vault to the final one. Try to get them from the same angle in each. Finish with our new find in the antechamber.”

  Within ten minutes, they were back in the SUV, moving down the uneven streets, back toward Teotihuacan. An hour later, they stopped at the motel and Remi ran inside, emerging moments later with a flash drive in her hand.

  Once back at the dig, they gathered around the monitor as Lazlo studied the Cuban pictographs and the manuscript. Nobody said a word as he gazed intently at the images, flipping between them, before finally settling on the series from the tombs.

  “The Cuban pictograph and the manuscript narrow it down to the second in the series. See the moon there? It matches the position in the Cuban carvings. The rest are red herrings, as you say in the colonies.”

  “You’re correct. That’s a depiction of the moon. Faint, and I would never have noticed it with all the rest of the glyphs, but there it is,” Antonio conceded.

  “Now the question is, which temple is it? The smaller one over there?” Sam said, pointing to a lower building to the right.

  Lazlo didn’t say anything and then stepped back. “It’s not as hard as you think, now that we know what to look for.”

  “What is it, Lazlo?” Maribela asked.

  “The other symbols point the way,” Lazlo nodded. “Teotihuacan is organized in a very specific manner. The city was designed according to astronomical events. The movement of the sun, the stars, the moon—all of these played a huge role in its layout.”

  “Right . . .”

  “Look up at the sky in the carving. Above the moon. That one star is bigger than the rest. Which would make it the North Star. Polaris.”

  Antonio grunted assent. “That would fit, based on other Toltec images we’ve analyzed.”

  Lazlo sighed. “Now I’m afraid the really hard work comes in. We’ll need to simulate the movement of the moon and the stars until we come to a point where they fit the positions in that carving. When we do, we’ll be able to calculate the tomb’s location.”

  “It may not be so hard after all,” Antonio said, and then walked them slowly through the other astronomical symbols. After conferring with Lazlo, he jotted down a few notes before typing on the laptop’s keyboard at a furious pace. They watched as he deleted one word and entered a different one into a blank search box and then pressed a series of keys.