The Great Thirst Boxed Set

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The Great Thirst Boxed Set Page 41

by Mary C. Findley


  Talia replied, “Just give me a reason.”

  “Well, wait until you’ve heard what I have to say. You probably know that I’m just a fledgling investigative reporter, trying to catch a break in a cruel world. Launching my career as an independent news agency depends on breaking a big, exclusive story. Now, most people wouldn’t think two small-town high school teachers could be sitting on the story of the century, but you and I know differently, don’t we?

  “Imagine how people would react to a traveling team of artifact-hunters racing against time to find a secret repository of ancient knowledge that could save the world. That’s huge. This is just the kind of thing the whole world is hungry for. Follow a spiritual journey to its triumphant day of discovery. Better still, you want to get this message out. You’re supposed to be spreading the good news, right?

  “So what do you say we partner up? I come with you every step of the way and get the first look at everything you find. I tell the world about your work, so you don’t have to worry about how your message will get around the world. You go on doing it in peace. No more accidents, no more explosions, no more trouble. How does that sound to you?”

  “It sounds like you admit you’ve been attacking us and trying to spy on our work, but you haven’t succeeded in learning much,” Talia said. “So you want us to make it easier for you by threatening us with more attacks if we don’t let you know everything. Is that about right?”

  “You haven’t got any proof I’ve done anything to you,” Jenny Kaine said with a slow, predatory smile.

  “You might ask that phony security guy what it feels like having his manly parts trade places with his lower intestine,” Talia replied. “How is he, by the way? Oh, right, he’s still in prison and still sitting down to use the bathroom. Stop trying to hurt the people I care about. I won’t tell you again.”

  Talia quickly slid into the Tesla and accelerated away. The reporter clawed wildly as the car slid out from under her and she fell hard onto the asphalt. Talia didn’t look back. “God, please make it at least a bloody nose,” She prayed.

  “You met Jenny Kaine at the grocery store?” Keith demanded, taking Talia by the shoulders as she got out of the Tesla. “You are shaking. Did she do something to you?”

  “No. I’m fine. I’m hoping she’s not.”

  “What was she doing here? Rigging another bomb?”

  “She came to ask for an exclusive,” Talia said with a short, sharp laugh, grabbing one of the bags and marching into the house. Keith snagged the other bag and followed her in. They set the groceries on the kitchen counter and Keith pulled Talia into the living room, sat her down on the couch, and wrapped his arms around her. Finally she calmed herself down enough to tell Keith what Jenny Kaine had said.

  “How does she know we don’t have a transmitter?” Keith asked.

  “I didn’t even understand that’s what she was saying,” Talia breathed. “I just thought she expected us to cave in to stop the attacks. Oh, Keith, that’s kind of a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “How is that a good thing? That’s what’s been driving me crazy ever since we started on all this. It’s the one thing that could keep everything we’ve done from making any difference. And she knew about it. How did she know?”

  It’s good,” Talia said, rubbing Keith’s arms and looking into his eyes, “because it’s just one thing she knows, out of many things she doesn’t know. That’s why she asked for access. I think she’s getting desperate because we’ve made all these trips, and brought nothing home with us, meaning we’ve succeeded in hiding the tablets and the Guardians from her. She really doesn’t know what we’ve got, beyond the fact that it needs to be transmitted.”

  “Yeah,” Keith replied. “Good point.” He got his arms around her again. “And she must be scary desperate, or else she would never go head-to-head with my Warrior Angel.”

  “We should put away the milk,” Talia said into his ear.

  “In a minute,” Keith said.

  “Why can’t we go on that preliminary trip you said you’re taking in December?” At least half a dozen whiny voices demanded in the Bible as Literature class.

  “Because we are going down there partly to scout out the safest places for you guys,” Keith answered. “Now let’s get back to the class material.”

  “But can’t we at least talk about those Olmec people?” Rikki asked. “We’re supposed to be talking about all different kinds of literature. What was theirs like?”

  Talia switched on the projector and displayed a glyph. “Here’s an example of Olmec writing. They spoke a language ancestral to Mixe–Zoquean. It’s older than Isthmian Script, which is sometimes called Epi-Olmec, because it comes after the Olmecs.

  “We don’t know what it says, and nobody else does either. Some people claim they can decipher Olmec dates, and that the Olmecs came up with a zero. And that’s a pretty good representation of what we know for sure about the Olmecs. Factual information for them is pretty nearly a big fat zero.”

  The kids burst out laughing at that, and some of the tension lessened. Talia and Keith breathed a little easier, but only for a moment.

  “Aren’t the Olmecs the ones who have those giant heads?” Jayna asked. “Chinese people, African people – what were those for? And how did they know about all those kinds of people if they didn’t live there?”

  “Take a look at these photos,” Talia said, showing slides of people’s faces. “The native people who live in Veracruz and Tabasco, where some known Olmec sites are, already have features like all those stone heads. Look at them carefully, and forget about people’s stereotypes of what African or Chinese – or even native Mexican people – ‘have’ to look like. Can you see the similarities in the slanted eyes and the wide lips? These are real, living people in Mexico today.”

  “Think about the fact that after the Great Flood, Noah and his family, eight people, were carrying all the genetic information from the human race,” Keith said. “All the variations we see today were contained in those eight people. God said, Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth. Some people obeyed, or moved outward because they were made to. So it makes sense that all kinds of people could live in all kinds of places. What we think of as different races are just varieties of people.

  “And after the Flood, the earth was still forming into the land and sea divisions we see today, maybe for a few hundred years. Some oceanographers and meteorologists believe people could walk or sail pretty easily all over the earth a few years after the Flood. Continents weren’t as isolated yet as they are today, so travel and trade was much easier.”

  “What about the were-jaguars?” Adam asked. “If nobody knows much about the Olmecs, how do they know about them?”

  “Were-jaguars?” Annie repeated. “You mean like werewolves?”

  Voices buzzed all over the room, repeating Were-jaguars. Cool!

  “Were-jaguars?” Keith looked helplessly at Talia, who narrowed her eyes at Adam. He wondered if she was about to go into warrior mode.

  “The idea of were-jaguars comes from some Olmec statues that have been found showing a person holding what looks like a child,” Talia replied, after taking a deep breath, “or statues of children by themselves. It’s true that some of these children don’t seem to be all the way human. Because many later Central and South American cultures worshiped the jaguar, archaeologists have made up theories that these earlier people had the power to change themselves into jaguars. But the truth is, no one knows anything for sure about what those statues are supposed to represent, or whether they’re even true Olmec works. For all we know, those children could be wearing footie pajamas.”

  The whole class roared with laughter this time.

  Talia crossed her arms. “Stop letting people fill your heads with made-up stuff. Stop listening to preconceptions and guesses as if they were facts. Yes there are giant stone heads down there. But deciding those faces came from Africa or China means making assumptions. Yes, there are statu
es that look strange and are hard to understand.

  “But what we’re trying to do is teach you the truth, or how to figure out what’s true, versus what people just make up out of their own heads and insist are facts, without presenting evidence. The Scriptures say in Philippians 1:10 Choose what is best and be pure and blameless. Filling your heads with people’s opinions is not best. It won’t make you pure and blameless. Certainly obsessing about were-jaguars, false gods, and occult powers won’t.”

  The bell rang and the students departed. Talia grabbed her hair and pulled. “Why did we even tell them about the Olmecs? All they’ve done is keep getting us off track since we mentioned it.”

  “I wonder where they’re getting that stuff?” Keith asked, cupping his hands over hers and pulling them away from her head. “I told you not to pull your hair out. I like your hair.”

  “I’m afraid they’re just doing internet searches and coming up with secularist garbage,” Talia replied. “Listening to pop archaeologists who want to get site views and endorsements, so they hype all this nonsense.”

  “So-called expert opinions have pretty much become facts in a lot of people’s minds today,” Keith sighed. “But we’re trying to keep them learning to discern what’s truth and also what’s important.”

  “I guess that’s true. But were-jaguars? Really?”

  “It’s the culture we live in. Shapeshifters are a big deal in books for kids their age.”

  “It’s occult,” Talia groaned. “Ugh. I don’t want to deal with it.”

  “We may have to figure out a way to deal with it,” Keith said. “So many of these false gods are part animal. We’ve always been told it gives them the powers of the animal so it seems cool. It’s a common feature in stuff aimed at younger readers. But you’re right, it could really corrupt their thinking. It certainly pulls them away from God-centered thinking.”

  Chapter Sixty-eight – The Life of the Party

  Before Keith and Talia left for Veracruz, they celebrated a somewhat more peaceful Christmas with Dan. Jiggly and Eva Sanchez joined them for dinner at the Bradley home, since both were flying with Keith and Talia, and everyone enjoyed Jiggly’s Cyborg antics.

  “Don’t expect me to get on the bandwagon just because Cherub-rider is with y’all,” Dan said. “He’s three-quarters crazy anyway. He told me about getting healed over there in Pakistan. He probably just wasn’t hit that bad. You just saw a lot of blood and got all excited when it was cleaned up.”

  Keith shrugged. “I was the one who bandaged up his arm before the hospital did. I know what it was like when it happened, and I know what he showed us when he took that bandage off.”

  “Then how come God didn’t heal Mr. Cyborg here?” Dan demanded, slapping Jiggly’s prosthetic hand away from his pumpkin pie.

  “I’m alive, and so is Warrior Angel,” Jiggly said. “Neither of us should have made it through that. How much healing do you want?”

  Eva spoke up. “Please excuse me for speaking out, Mr. Bradley, since I am your guest. But I think you’ve just decided no proof is proof enough, Daniel. God might change your mind in a way you won’t like. He did that to many of the people we ministered to in Mexico.”

  “Merry Christmas, Dad,” Keith said, hugging his father as they parted to go through airport security very early the next morning. “I love you.”

  “We both love you,” Talia said, stretching up to kiss her father-in law.

  “Not gonna kiss you, but thanks for everything.” Jiggly grinned. Joshua Bradley shook his prosthetic hand and smiled back.

  “Maybe you can go Terminator if my kids get themselves in trouble again,” he suggested. “Good guy mode, I mean.”

  “Yeah, I can try,” Jiggly replied. “Take care, Mr. B. Praying God gets through to Mr. Hardhead. I do know what he’s going through. Been there.”

  “Thank you,” Joshua said. “Have a good trip, Mrs. Sanchez. Merry Christmas.”

  Eva Sanchez smiled shyly at him. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Bradley.”

  Jiggly spent half the flight scaring or annoying the attendants and other passengers with his robotic hand. The captain came back and took Jiggly away for about half an hour. Jiggly was quiet the rest of the trip. He even insisted that Eva take back the window seat, which he had whined incessantly to get from her.

  “Okay, I have to know what the captain said to you,” Keith demanded of Jiggly.

  Jiggly glowered at him but finally said, “He showed me a parachute and explained in detail how to use it. He also explained that these windows could be kicked out in an emergency. He asked if I understood the significance of the parachute and the kickable window, and asked if I needed to keep the parachute. That was it. Okay?”

  “Bienvenido a Veracruz, Sanchez, Bradley, and Party!”

  Ignoring Jiggly’s muttered, “See, without me there’d be no party,” Keith and Talia followed Eva Sanchez’s lead and accepted embraces from the man and woman holding the sign. Jiggly stayed back and waved.

  “It’s so good to finally meet these two people,” Eva said, after speaking to the couple in Spanish for a few moments. “Forgive me for leaving you out. These are the people who helped me most in learning about the Olmecs. They are telling me your third daughter-in-law of Noah has been given a name. Araña is Spanish for spider. They would have preferred finding an Olmec name but not enough is known about the language. Sophie is still upset about the association with the Spider Woman, but they have agreed that certain aspects of the Olmec culture made this a good choice. They say we will be excited and surprised to hear about some new discoveries just made.”

  Cindee drove them in the Land Rover to meet Naddy and Sophie at the dig site after they had gotten settled in the workers’ tent city outside Veracruz. On the outside it had looked like just a small hill or a dirt mound to Keith. He hadn’t even realized it was a man-made structure until they made their way inside the narrow, low-clearance passageway.

  “Around the world, there are many mounds people theorize contain structures built along the lines of step pyramids,” Naddy explained as they hunched and wound their way deeper underground. By the pooling light of their lanterns Keith began to see the soil replaced by bricks. “By far the greatest number are in China, and other closed countries. Archaeologists have been permitted to explore only a few possible ancient pyramid sites.

  “The pyramid is such a common feature of ancient civilizations, we believed we needed to explore the possibility that they were connected to our daughters-in-law of Noah. We were bitter about those lost opportunities in countries no one was permitted to enter, but in hindsight, perhaps God closed the doors to open this one. We certainly cannot say we are disappointed to have discovered the Web of Araña.”

  “Whoa,” Keith breathed, finding suddenly that he could stand upright, and then looking around at a spacious chamber lit by thousands of tiny lights. The others had already extinguished their lanterns but he stood, spellbound, staring up at an intricate web pattern created with a mosaic of bricks spaced to let in outside light.

  “How could they do this, when the outside is just dirt? How does the light get through?” Keith demanded.

  “The people who live here knew about this pyramid long before we did,” Sophia admitted. “They have been working for generations to conceal the exterior and reveal the interior to those initiates they deemed worthy. It is only because of the friendship, and the testimony, of Eva Sanchez that we have been granted this privilege.”

  Eva blushed and looked back at their native guides, the couple who had met them at the airport. “Gracias,” she said. “Muchas gracias.”

  “Ohhh…” Talia breathed. “It’s so beautiful! Look, Keith, there are tiny mirrors set right into the bricks, at different angles. No matter what time of day it is, and maybe even on bright, moonlit nights, there will be light in here if there’s any light outside.”

  “Believe it or not, mirrors are almost as plentiful outside as inside,” Naddy said. “You may know
of the stage magician’s fondness for misdirection with mirrors. Small mirrors magnify piles of soil and obscure openings while focusing and redirecting light all over the mound. It is a sheltered but perfectly-shaped valley, actually an ancient volcano, as you may have seen when we arrived. If this were a popular destination for tourists or archaeologists, the secret would never have remained undisturbed for so long. Even our own people, who have tried to study the Olmec for decades, were not aware this site existed.

  “Sophia and I came down here, conferred with our associates, and had all but concluded we would find nothing here to help with the quest. But Eva’s friends sought us out, because she has been a patroness of their poor and a spiritual encourager. Still they tested us, to know whether our purpose here was important enough to divulge this secret they had kept for all these years. Apparently they have judged us worthy for Eva’s sake. We are humbled and grateful.”

  Keith had been looking around at the large, empty space. “What was the purpose of this place?” he asked.

  “They say that Araña could somehow keep track of goings-on from this place,” Sophia replied after consulting their guides. “She could see along her trade network, hundreds of miles, apparently. We cannot quite understand what they mean. It seems that some artifact of ancient technology must have been used here, something that worked with the mirrors, and perhaps other devices outside the pyramid. All these people knew to do is preserve the mirrors and the secret chamber. They don’t seem to know what made Araña’s web actually work.”

  “This Araña, or whoever, had a control center here, and she could keep tabs on her merchants remotely?” Keith prowled around the room. “I don’t see where anything collapsed, or dried up and blew away – this room is just empty. Is there another way in or out? Mrs. Sanchez, can you ask them?”

 

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