by Guillou, Sue
Gillian looked up to see Adam staring at her. She found it amusing and had trouble wiping the smile off her face.
Adam blushed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, but I was fascinated by the look on your face. It was like a child seeing a kangaroo for the first time,’ apologised Adam.
‘Kangaroo,’ laughed Gillian, ‘that’s hardly the same thing as holding this. This disk is every archaeologist’s dream.’
‘Why? I still have no idea what’s so important about it. To date no one has told me why I was dragged halfway across the world other than to help save some archaeologists.’
Gillian did feel a little guilty. Adam had every right to a reasonable explanation, so she started the car and began to explain.
‘Five days ago, I received a call from my dear friend Richard Deinhart inviting me to an archaeological dig in Tikal. Of course I had to go. To be asked by Richard is a great honour not easily turned down. My fiancé Fred decided to accompany me as he always does.’ Gillian huffed slightly in frustration before continuing. ‘They had discovered a tunnel under a fifth century home which indicated potential treasure, and in our excitement Julia, Richard’s partner, inadvertently pressed what we now know was an elaborate trap to catch anyone attempting to gain access.’
‘Trap? What was it?’ queried Adam.
‘The Mayans used to calculate days on a calendar system called the “Calendar Round”. It is the same as your disk but not as ornamental and was always accompanied by a smaller, interlocking disk, a little like the movements in a watch. It was one of these Calendars with an unusual ruby stone centre that Julia pressed. A gate followed by a wall sealed them immediately into the rear of the passage. I was lucky to be on the other side with Samuel.
‘Didn’t you try to get them out?’
‘My father scanned the area with a GPR system and we have determined that the vertical tunnel they are sealed in is made of solid obsidian. Any effort to break it will cause the fragile rope holding the enclosed platform to snap. They would die instantly. On the closure of the gate, Richard managed to pass me a small tile he had found on the inside of their chamber. It was the key to opening a box he discovered in the city of Teotihuacán which we later learnt contained a drawing of this disk and part of a diary,’ said Gillian, losing her train of thought for a moment while she overtook a slow moving semitrailer.
Adam waited patiently for her to continue.
‘It was at this time that we located your ad on eBay, but it seemed that our adversaries had also discovered your existence.’
‘I presume it’s stating the obvious that their intentions are not as noble as yours. I wonder that they want with the disk,’ murmured Adam.
‘It’s an icon for their cult and they may want it for purely symbolic reasons, but my main concern is to find out how this disk will help me get my friends out of that hellhole. Originally I had thought that your artefact was somehow connected to the one in Tikal, considering they both had a hexagonal centrepiece, but that was not the case, so I was hoping you would have additional information about it that may be useful.’
Adam grimaced. ‘Sorry. I inherited it from my grandmother’s estate six years ago. We weren’t close, so I have no idea how she came to own it. I only know that it was a family heirloom,’ replied Adam regretfully.
‘That’s disappointing,’ murmured Gillian as they pulled into the San Antonio library, parked the car and headed for the main entrance.
Adam followed Gillian into the large rotating doors. He felt out of place. He did not consider himself a dumb man, in fact quite the opposite, but she overwhelmed him. She was not classically beautiful, but there was something about her. She radiated a confidence borne of self-reliance. It reflected in her clear skin, unusual green eyes and even her walk. She was also intelligent, something which he greatly admired although he found himself electing to stay quiet instead of making a comment that could be construed as silly. It had been many years since a woman actually made him care how he sounded.
He was also quite tired. His last ten hours had been a whirlwind of activity and he was having trouble staying abreast of the unfolding events. Still, he had to admit to being both intrigued and curious as to how the next twenty-four hours would unfold and was not unhappy about spending the time in Gillian‘s company.
To be polite, Adam walked with Gillian to the division that stocked ancient languages and waited until she was seated before making a beeline for the espresso machine. He was dying for a cup of coffee, sensing he was going to be in need of many more before this quest was over.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Adam stood at the counter, contemplating which coffee to buy. He did not know Gillian well enough to make a suitable decision, so he went for the safe option – the cappuccino. He grabbed a couple of sugars and eagerly paced along the parquetry flooring until he reached the small alcove Gillian was studying in. She was surrounded by a pile of books and seemingly intent on her work until he approached. Gillian looked up and smiled. ‘Thanks, Adam, but how did you pay for that? You don’t have any money?’
‘The pilot handed me a few bucks before he left,’ responded Adam as he placed himself habitually on the other side of the table as he would in an Australian classroom.
‘Don’t sit over there. I could do with your opinion on this,’ she said as she swept her hand casually across the paperwork.
Adam was surprised. Archaeology was her area of expertise. He had no idea what benefit he could add to the process and feared that he would end up making a fool of himself. Nevertheless he appreciated the offer and moved as close to her as he dared.
Gillian had three research books and the drawing of his disk in front of her. He noted that each book was a compilation of Mayan hieroglyphs, none of which he recognised. He frowned uneasily and Gillian caught his expression out of the corner of her eye. She chuckled at him although it was not a laugh of defamation but one of genuine amusement at the face he had pulled.
Gillian spoke first.
‘The key Richard had passed to me opened a solid obsidian box with a drawing of this disk, and a diary. I think it’s safe to assume that the diary and disk belong to the same person who built the shaft. The shaft depicted drawings of a priest, further confirmed by the “holy symbol” we found outside in the diggings. The diary, although written in Medieval Latin, is also of the same vintage. The author is a priest called “Kinix”.
‘There must have been clues in the diary?’ queried Adam. ‘Perhaps there’s something you missed.’
‘No, I don’t think so. At first I thought it was complete, but when I opened it to recommence my reading, I realised that the last few pages were blank with the exception of a series of detailed illustrations. The diary is about the early life of Kinix. There’s no mention of a disk, tunnel or anything remotely relating to our current predicament, and on top of that, I’ve had no luck deciphering your Calendar.’
‘Perhaps we need to go to Tikal and see if there is something you’ve missed.’
‘No, all of our resources are here. We need to work it out now whilst we have the opportunity,’ replied Gillian confidently.
‘Okay, let’s start over. Let’s have another look at the diary,’ suggested Adam as Gillian viewed him doubtfully but conceded. Adam could see by the squint in her eyes that she did not like being second-guessed, only choosing to give in because of desperation. She had spirit, but she was not rude and Adam liked that.
Half an hour passed and they were no closer to locating anything remotely useful in the book. Gillian had patiently given Adam an abbreviated version of each page ending at the last page where a number of black-and-white drawings became visible. They were both frustrated and Gillian offered to shout the next cup of coffee whilst Adam sat and contemplated what he had just learnt.
He flipped the last couple of pages and considered the drawings. They were detailed but no more than rough sketches akin to the current day doodle although there was something strangely familiar a
bout them that Adam could not put his finger on. The more he looked at them, the further the answer slipped from his reach. He was tired.
Gillian returned with two cups of strong lattes and four Mars bars. Adam smiled gratefully. She seemed to know exactly what he wanted – loads of sugar and caffeine.
He appreciatively sipped from the disposable paper cup and took a second look at the drawings. It was right there. The answer was at his fingertips and he was becoming angry at his inability to see it. Gillian patted his shoulder in empathy as he experienced a welcome and unexpected rush of clarity. The drawings were rough versions of his paintings at home.
He could see it now, the same pyramidal structures, complex backgrounds and general perspective. Only the vibrant, funny little man was missing.
‘I know what these are!’ shouted Adam in excitement, receiving a look of disapproval from the passing library assistant. She pointed to the ‘silence’ sign in reiteration of the library rules.
Adam ignored her, something he wouldn’t have done yesterday.
‘What?’ asked Gillian eagerly.
‘These drawings are copies of three paintings I have hanging at home.’
‘What paintings? You never mentioned anything about paintings before,’ snapped Gillian in a mix of frustration and excitement.
‘I didn’t think to. I had no idea that they were of any great significance. I tried to get them appraised once, but the valuer had no idea what they were or who painted them. The only thing we could agree on was the Mayan heritage.’
‘So, where did you get them from?’ quizzed Gillian.
‘Along with the disk, they were the only items I inherited from my grandmother. Everything else went to my parents,’ said Adam bitterly.
Gillian laughed. ‘I detect a note of animosity in your voice which leads me to presume she was rich and left you with no money.’
‘It isn’t bloody fair,’ smarted Adam, knowing that he sounded like a spoilt child but not really caring.
‘Well, you may just have the last laugh. Don‘t you get it? You have irrefutably connected the disk with this book. That in turn links these items with the passageway at Tikal. I hope those paintings are in safekeeping.’
Adam’s face fell. When he left his home yesterday, it was about to be robbed. He had no idea if they were still on his wall in one piece. He wanted to lie and say yes, but that would be of no benefit to him.
‘My house was broken into yesterday and an attempt made on my life.’
‘And most likely by the men who are after the disk now,’ concluded Gillian, her crestfallen expression mirroring Adam’s own thoughts. It was unlikely the paintings were still there.
‘Well … all is not lost. You have your memory. Let’s see what you can recall,’ said Gillian, her look of disappointment quickly replaced by optimism. Adam found himself spurred on by her enthusiasm and continued quickly.
The three paintings are identical to these drawings except they are brightly coloured and there is a strange little man at the base of each picture. I know from my research that two of the pyramids come from Palenque and Teotihuacán, but I was unable to locate the third,’ offered Adam.
‘Hmmm,’ murmured Gillian. ‘I didn’t look closely at these before, but the background indicates that this first picture must be the Olvidado Temple. This is particularly interesting considering it was first thought to be constructed by their great king Pakal who ruled for sixty-eight years from the age of twelve until his death in 683 AD. We now think that the Olvidado group may be the site of the first royal families of Palenque, predating Pakal by up to 600 years. This may confirm that the temple existed in at least 500 AD and may have only been redecorated or restored by Pakal.’ Gillian paused for a moment before moving onto the next drawing.
‘This one is a little harder to work out as the drawing is less detailed, but it’s my guess that it’s the Temple of Masks in Uaxactun twenty-five miles north of Tikal. I can understand the valuer’s confusion as Uaxactun is not a well-documented site. Added to that is that this temple was recently uncovered by archaeologists who removed the unstable late classic temple that was built over it.
Adam listened, intently fascinated by Gillian’s knowledge.
‘The third I would think is the Pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacán built about 100 AD. In Kinix’s diary he refers to Teotihuacán as the “City of Gods” which would make sense as the name “Teotihuacán” was given to the city by the Aztecs some two hundred years later’
Gillian paused momentarily as Adam interrupted. ‘I thought you told me that the obsidian box with Kinix’s diary and drawing of my disk came from Teotihuacán.’
Gillian eyed Adam with an expression he could only describe as dumbfounded. ‘Bloody hell, Adam, I think you’re onto something.’
Adam dared not speculate for fear of saying something silly, so he simply waited for her to continue.
‘Look, we have three paintings and three drawings, all of which correspond with each other. We know that Richard uncovered part of the diary and drawing of your disk at the base of the Temple of the Sun in Teotihuacán, so one would automatically conclude that the remainder of the book is spread between these other locations!’ squealed Gillian, her face flushed and arms flaying in excitement.
‘A little like a treasure hunt,’ replied Adam as he ducked under one of Gillian’s hands.
She grinned apologetically and placed her hands in her lap. ‘So, what do you think?’ asked Gillian.
‘It makes sense, particularly if this Kinix character is a priest. His assumed intelligence would automatically allow us to conclude that it’s unlikely he would hide only part of his works for the fun of it. It also leads me to wonder if the person in my paintings is Kinix himself or a friend,’ mused Adam.
‘Hopefully the paintings are still at your home for us to find out,’ added Gillian before continuing. ‘I only need to discover what this disk says.’
‘Did you not say that Kinix wrote the diary in Medieval Latin? The only reason I can think for him to do this is to safeguard it if it was discovered,’ concluded Adam.
‘See … you do have brains,’ giggled Gillian, her teasing smile causing him to blush. ‘I agree with you, but the icons on the disk have nothing to do with Latin.’
‘Perhaps not, but what if Kinix used his own hieroglyphics to write in Latin instead of using straight Latin script. I’d reckon that if you look at the back of the tile you used to open the obsidian box, there will be an arrangement of hieroglyphics your professor was unable to translate.’
‘Oh my God. You are too good to be true,’ replied Gillian in astonishment, her look of genuine admiration causing Adam to squirm uncomfortably in his seat.
‘Let me try this again,’ she muttered to herself as she translated the hieroglyphs one by one and coming up with a sequence of letters that meant no more to Adam than the scribble of a prep student.
Comitoraridep meusaum digitusim adeoireiiitum imprimus ductulus were the first letters she wrote, followed by: Comitor-ari dep, meus-a um, digitus-im, adeo-ire-ii-itum, imprimus ductus-us m and eventually broken down into: ‘Follow my finger to first face’.
‘We would conclude that he is referring to the Temple of Masks in Uaxactun, but I fail to understand what he means by “follow his finger”. That is no help to me at all,’ sighed Gillian, her face screwed up in a look of exasperation.
‘I reckon I can assist with that,’ replied Adam as he pointed to one of the pictures. In that particular painting the priest is sitting on the ground but facing sideways. Directly behind him is a carving of a mask he is pointing to.’
‘Then Uaxactún is our next destination,’ replied Gillian as her mobile phone rang loudly, causing them to jump at the unexpected intrusion.
‘Bloody ‘ell, Mate,’ cursed Adam in fright, his Australian slang causing Gillian to grin.
It was General Dale Bright on the phone and he spoke solidly for two minutes before Gillian was able to interrupt long enoug
h to request the use of an aircraft to fly them to Uaxactún. He could tell by the smile on her face that he had agreed.
‘My father rang to tell me that his men in Tikal have managed to drill a small hole through the obsidian and insert a pipe into the suspended room. This has allowed them to drop a few water bladders and a number of sustenance bars to my friends, but my father is concerned. The lift has dropped which means the rope has started to fail. They’ve calculated the amount of stretch by the weight and determined that they only have forty-eight hours remaining. He will continue to monitor it and will keep us informed, but in the meantime, he assured me he would arrange our transportation.’
‘I suppose we’d better get a move on if we’re driving back to the base,’ said Adam as he closed the books and threw out their scribbled waste.
Gillian grabbed his arm to stop him. ‘Someone will pick us up from the roof.’
Adam gestured upwards, indicating the library roof and she nodded.
They hurried to the elevator, intent on making their way unimpeded to the top floor, but Gillian turned at the last moment. Adam could tell by the surprised look on her face that she had just seen someone she recognised and her look was not one of delight.
‘Hurry. We don’t have time. Take the stairs.’
Adam did not need any prompting. He ran.
Gillian was in front of him and they sprinted up the stairs two at a time, pausing only when a door slammed not more than thirty seconds behind.
The footsteps were closing rapidly and Adam did not think they were going to make it until he made a last-minute decision to toss one of the library books into the face of their pursuer. The surprise bought them just enough time to escape onto the roof and climb aboard the waiting helicopter.
Georgio Catalino smiled as they boarded. ‘Need a lift?’
***
Samuel was furious … no, he was more than furious; he was livid with rage. This was the second time the woman had managed to thwart him. Ahaw was not going to be happy, but his leader’s failure to obtain the Calendar Round from the Australian at the air force base gave him some gratification.