"I'll be damned," the master chief said as he slapped the major on the ass. "How 'bout that, the bitch is breathing!" His laughter was infectious; Jack could hear the cheers of dozens of men and women throughout the boat as they all heard and felt the powerful engines come to life.
"See, they love her, too," Jenks exclaimed as he removed his cigar and smiled widely.
Jack winked. "Either that or they're just happy the air-conditioning's on," he said as he pulled the semitransparent sliding door aside and left the cockpit.
Jenks, his smile fading, watched as Jack left. "Eh, what does he know," he mumbled as he flipped a toggle switch on the thick right arm of his command chair. "Stand by in the stern and bow to bring up the anchors," his voice rumbled more forcefully throughout the boat on the speakers embedded in every section.
Carl pushed a button mounted on the wall of the engine room. He could hear the winch engage, which controlled both the bow and stern anchors. Then there was a satisfying click as the winch stopped. He gave Mendenhall and Sanchez a thumbs-up.
* * *
Carl met Sarah and Doctors Nathan and Ellenshaw at the base of the large spiral staircase in the section four lounge that led to the upper and outermost deck of Teacher. They went up and Carl opened the large acrylic glass bubble. They climbed out into the heat. A ten-by-ten-foot section in the center of the boat just aft of the radio and radar tower allowed them a view of the river. Three sections to their front, they saw Jack and Virginia climb out on deck and then sit in one of the many weatherproof chairs lining the gunwales.
They felt Teacher shudder as Jenks applied power and she slowly backed away from the crumbling riverbank. She backed up until her large stern was well out into the main channel of the Amazon, and then they heard her transmission shift into forward gear and Teacher almost leaped out of the water. Her tri-hull rode gracefully, cutting through the greenish water with ease as the large boat started her maiden voyage down the most famous river in the world on her way to a tributary that to the modern world existed only in legend.
* * *
Two hours later Collins, Everett, and Mendenhall were outside the glass-enclosed cockpit while Sarah sat with Jenks in the copilot's chair, talking about, what else, the chief's boat.
Corporal Sanchez had volunteered to be the expedition's cook, much to Mendenhall's dismay, and he brought them a tray of coffee. He handed two cups through the door to Jenks and Sarah, then left the tray on the centerline table in the navigation department.
"I don't think the master chief likes me," he said, wiping his hands on a towel.
"That man doesn't like anyone except this woman," Carl said as he patted the composite side of the boat.
"Ain't normal," Sanchez called as he walked back through the hatch and back to his cooking.
Jack returned to the large glass table. Padilla's map had been scanned and placed in the main navigational computer. Laid before them in detail were items that had been added to the map by placing known terrain colors and features from U.S. Geological Survey RORSAT photos. The display was "current position" capable, meaning they could see their position the entire way on the computer-generated map. In the next few hours they hoped to have telemetry set up with Jet Propulsion Labs in Pasadena to allow them access to live images from Boris and Natasha.
Carl spun a steel ball embedded in the side frame of the map table and slid forward along the image of the river from their current position. While he sipped his coffee, he studied the area that worried them the most. The Padilla map showed only the winding river; on the more scientific survey maps that had been superimposed over the Spaniard's, there were only trees and jungle. From above, there was no river to speak of, as it had disappeared from view under the rain forest canopy. A computer line marked where the tributary should be according to the Padilla map beneath it.
"There are so many variables — width, depth, and other factors — that could stop us right in our tracks," Carl said.
"Well, I guess that's when we'll see if Teacher is as magical as the master chief seems to think she is," Jack said.
"I think she'll be," Mendenhall offered. "He's right; she's something, isn't she?"
Both Carl and Jack looked over at the sergeant but didn't comment.
"That doesn't mean that I like him or anything, just that he built a great-lookin' boat," Mendenhall said defensively. "I think I'll go check on the arms locker and scuba gear," he said, feeling like a traitor for praising their pilot. He picked up his coffee and excused himself.
"What's going on in navigation? Any change in course? We still trying for that phantom cutoff onto that Black Water Trib?"
Jack hit the com button and selected Cockpit. "No change in course; according to Padilla, the tributary is hidden, looks like a normal bend. So stay to the right of the center current," Jack said as he released the switch.
As the two men looked at the screen they saw the cutoff. It was marked by a rendering of trees that had grown so thick even in the Spaniard's time that Padilla had made a black X through the drawing of the sun. Carl mumbled something.
"What was that?" Jack asked.
"I guess that's where we fall off the edge of the world."
Jack didn't respond; he just nodded.
* * *
Three hours later, with Carl at the helm, Jenks and half the team were at dinner in the crowded lounge in section four. At only twenty-three and a half feet wide, Teacher lacked what would be properly known as elbow room. Sarah, Virginia, and Jack sat as far away from the master chief as they could to avoid any unnecessary charm he might add to their conversation. They were all enjoying their view of the passing river in a most unique way: the bottom port windows were actually underwater, and the green flowing river eased by like a huge aquarium before them.
"Are we prepared in case we run into our French friend?" Virginia asked, forsaking her chance at Sanchez's ham and cheese casserole, instead opting for a cup of coffee and salad.
"It all depends on circumstances, I guess. He's no fool; he'll wait until he feels he has the advantage in numbers, or surprise. I figure he'll wait until we've done most of the work; that's his pattern, from what I've learned."
Sarah listened but didn't comment, so Jack knew there was something on her mind.
"What are you thinking, short stuff?" he asked.
She laid her fork in her plate and sighed. "It's Danielle, her showing up at the dig in Okinawa. If she was so intent on tracking her ex-husband down, why use us? I mean, surely she has other resources at her disposal, so much so that we should have been irrelevant."
"Well, you heard her explanation. She didn't really want to bring in her own people for personal reasons," Virginia said.
"I'm not buying it," Sarah insisted.
Jack gave her a look she knew all too well.
"Knock it off, it's not just that I don't like her, or because her former name was Farbeaux. It's the way her agency has so conveniently become cooperative right now. Besides, so soon after Lisa's death, I think she's a bad influence on Carl."
"Oh, that's it — you don't think Carl's man enough to avoid an entanglement. Or is it that you're jealous for Lisa?" Jack asked.
"Listen, Jack," she said, then caught her mistake a split second after it was out of her mouth. "I mean Major, leave that crap out of it… it's just that maybe Lieutenant Ryan would have been better off working with her, instead of Carl," she said, picking up her fork to indicate she was ending her part in this awkward conversation.
"Where is Jason, anyway? He's usually attached to you and Carl like a pet," Virginia commented.
"I assigned him another project," Jack quickly replied. "And Ryan is the last man you want around a Frenchwoman anyway," he joked, hoping to steer the conversation away from the lieutenant's whereabouts.
"Chief Jenks, Major, come to the bridge please," Carl said over the intercom. "We're coming up on the area where our Spaniard said the Black River starts."
* * *
Jenks and Jack passed Danielle in the companion way that joined the navigation area with the cockpit. She smiled and nodded a greeting. The master chief stopped and tilted his head to admire her from behind, then entered the cockpit to relieve Carl at the controls.
"Had Frenchie keepin' you company, Toad?" Jenks asked as he squeezed into the command chair.
"Nah, all by my lonesome up here," Carl answered.
Jack caught an inflection in his answer and, instead of going into the cockpit, turned and looked around the navigation compartment. He went to the map table. The computer rendering of Padilla's map was up. Jack remembered shutting it down earlier, and surmised that Carl must have turned it on when he took over for Jenks. He ducked his head into the cockpit and saw that the map was also up on the monitor between the two seats. Everett must have used the map table first and then routed the program to the cockpit.
"We have a branch coming up. We have about fifteen feet of water under our keel, so no problem there, yet," Jenks said.
"I was thinking," Jack asked, "what would have made Captain Padilla take this particular tributary route instead of keeping with the main river?"
"What do you mean?" Carl asked from the copilot's seat.
"It makes no sense, there had to have been something his scouts had seen that made Padilla choose this route over the Amazon, a peculiarity in the river perhaps, or a man-made object. I just don't see him arbitrarily leaving the main river."
"I see what you mean and I don't have a clue. If that's the case, others in the five hundred years since would have seen the same thing and ventured down the tributary," Carl said. "So whatever it was that drew him to it—"
"Isn't there anymore," Jack finished for him.
"Well, this is going to be one short-ass trip, boys. Look," Jenks said as he throttled back on the engines.
"What the hell, we must have taken the wrong route," Carl exclaimed.
Up ahead, Teacher was dwarfed by sheer rock walls in front of her. A waterfall splashed down and created a beautiful scene in front, but that was it. The tributary ended after only ten miles. Jenks looked down at the sonar picture.
"She's deep. We've gone from fifteen feet under the keel to thirty-five," he reported. He reached down and pinged the bottom with a blast of sound, getting a clearer picture of the bottom landscape when the sound waves bounced back.
"Lot of boulders and shit on the bottom, some pretty large schools of fish, but that's about it. Wait a minute, look at this," he said, tapping at the still shot of the computer-generated sonar picture. He used a cursor and backtracked a little. "That's a weird-shaped rock."
"Damned near looks like a head, doesn't it?" Carl ventured.
Jack leaned in and nodded his agreement. The boulder, if that's what it was, looked as if it were a head, with ears, nose, and everything.
"Ah, sonar plays tricks on you sometimes, just a weird-shaped rock, that's all."
"Chief, those fifteen fancy remote probes you have from TRW, I think its worth one to see what that is, I'm betting it's something," Jack said, still looking at the frozen sonar picture.
"You're betting about five thousand bucks, Major," Jenks responded as he stuck a fresh cigar in his mouth. "I have only five that are programmed and operational; there were priorities in the work assigned the last two days."
Jack just looked at him.
"You're the boss, I'm only a galley slave," Jenks acquiesced. "Toad, on your console, hit the button that says UDWTR Bay 3, will ya? It's time to see if I trained you right the last few hours on the operation of our Snoop Dog."
Carl found the button and pushed it. Somewhere below they heard a short whine coming from somewhere. Then a small console popped up on the thick armrest of Everett's chair. It was equipped with a small joystick. Jenks reached out and switched the main monitor between them to another channel, which was filled with static.
"Now, raise the small plastic cover there," he said.
Carl saw the switch cover by the joystick and raised it. Underneath was a red push button that illuminated when the switch cover was raised.
"Push it, Toad," Jenks ordered.
Carl pushed down until it clicked. They heard a gush of air and saw bubbles rise to the surface ahead of them.
"Hey, hey, watch it, you'll run her into the bank. Swing her around, swing her around!" Jenks called out loudly.
"Shit!" Carl said as he saw on the monitor the little torpedo-shaped probe was heading for shallow water. He took the small joystick and twisted it to the left. The angle on the monitor changed and the compass located in digital form at the bottom of the screen swung from east to north to south.
"Okay, Toad, now you're headed right for us; twist the top of the joystick, that's your speed control. Toad? Slow down, goddammit!"
The picture angled right at Teacher, the tri-shaped hull clearly visible, the probe slowed.
"Damn, kid, keep the speed down, will ya? Now, push down on the joystick. That controls your dive on the probe, push down for down, and pull up for—"
"Up?" Carl said smartly.
"I knew they made you an officer for a fuckin' reason, Toad."
Carl turned the probe again until it started heading away and then threw the four-foot-long radio-controlled unit, dubbed "Snoopy," which TRW had developed for the navy, into a spiral headed down, trailing her near-invisible fiber-optic power and control cable behind it.
"You catch on fast, now try not to run it into the mud. We can still recover her and use her again. Major, ask that kid Mendenhall to get to the fantail and make ready to bring the probe aboard, and tell that army fella not to fall overboard, it's heavy."
Jack did so using the intercom.
On the monitor the picture grew darker. A light just under Snoopy's nose came on with the use of an installed rheostat sensor that automatically lit up in darkness. The probe edged deeper with every turn it made, the small fins on the zero buoyancy craft keeping the device in a tight spiral. Jenks looked at the depth and called it out.
"Ten feet to bottom, eight feet, six… ease up, Toad," he said, watching the depth gauge and ignoring the picture. The probe slowed.
"Let me tell you, for a dead-end tributary, I'm having one hell of a time keeping this thing trim. Every time I head east, it wants to keep going. There is really one bitch of a current out there," Carl said as he fought the small joystick.
Through the window, Jack could make out some sort of thick vegetation behind the wide waterfall. He then turned his attention to the computer screen.
"Okay, you're at four feet; level her off and come right three degrees. That should put you on top of our rock," the master chief said.
Snoopy banked to the right for a split second and then quickly righted itself on command from Carl. The light was picking up nothing but murky water and a fish now and then.
"Where in the hell is it?" Jenks asked.
The light picked up a darker outline ahead of Snoopy. Carl eased the probe forward, steering into the strengthening current. Finally the light picked out what looked like large teeth. Then the mouth and nose, large pointed ears, and eyes that stared back at them through the monitor. The head was at least ten feet tall and it looked as if there was even more buried under the mud.
"Chief, can we pipe this through the boat into the science labs?"
"Yeah," Jenks said as he pushed a button labeled BOAT MONITORS. "There, now the whole ship can see Toad's future father-in-law," he said, laughing.
Jack pushed the intercom. "Doctors, look at your monitors. Does anyone have any guesses?"
The probe made a complete turn around the huge head, picking out other small details — the feathers coursing along powerful-looking arms, the breast piece which was made up of a different type of stone from the rest of the body. All around its circumference, only half of the stone was above the mud and silt of the river's bottom; the rest disappeared into murk.
"Can you see if the figure is holding something in its right hand?" asked the voice o
f Professor Ellenshaw over the speaker mounted next to Jack's head.
Snoopy swung down and traveled a few feet. The probe ran along the rather large belly of the statue and protruded above the mud. The images revealed that it was indeed holding something.
"What do you think?" Carl asked.
"A pitchfork?" Jenks suggested, adjusting the brightness on the monitor.
"No, not that, but close," Jack said as he flipped on the intercom. "Professor, we have a trident in the right hand and a battle-ax in the left, crossed over at the midsection; anything else is under the mud."
"Good, good, gentlemen. You have just proven beyond any doubt that at one time at least, the Inca had passed this way. They thought it important enough to leave some strong medicine here. That is the Incan god Supay, god of death and lord of the underworld. Also the lord of all underground treasures," Ellenshaw said in a mysterious voice.
"I also believe this is Supay," Professor Keating said from one of the labs.
"I concur; the likeness etched in stone in front of us is exactly that, Supay," the voice of Professor Nathan agreed. "God of the underworld."
"Nice," mumbled Jenks.
Jack was listening but at the same time studying the cliff walls above them. There were many large ledges, so it was completely possible for the statue to have broken, or have been knocked free from one of those outcroppings by an earthquake perhaps, or just erosion.
"I think that would have been a guide, or at least reason enough, for Padilla's expedition to sidetrack," Carl said, still looking at the monitor.
"But where in the hell did he go?" Jenks wondered. "Maybe they climbed out of here and over the cliffs and picked up the tributary at another point."
Jack didn't say anything; he continued to look at the walls around Teacher. He left the cockpit and returned to the navigation section. There, he brought up other maps, selected the one he wanted, and clicked the mouse on the side of the navigation console. A U.S. Geological Survey map came up and on it Jack located the area where they were, thanks to their global positioning transponder. He traced the small tributary above them, the one that the waterfall was created from, and followed it. It routed right back to the main Amazon, in about a two-mile loop. He electronically sent the map to the console monitor up front and then went back to the cockpit.
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