February 9, 2012
Hi Sweetheart,
I was really hoping to see you before I left on this trip.
Our donor wants us to get started as soon as possible. He didn’t say why he was in such a hurry, but I guess I feel the same way given what we’re looking for. The elder from the jungle tribe spoke of an ancient city, Paititi, deep in the rainforest where there is some sort of relic. According to the elder, stories have been passed down through several generations that this relic was a gift from the gods. If what the elder has told me is true, it’s the key to proving that something altered the course of human development.
Sam, I don’t know if I’m just being paranoid, but I’ve got a funny feeling about this trip. I’ve had the weirdest feeling that someone is watching us as we get ready to go. I don’t even know who this donor is that’s funding us. When I asked Francisco about him, he said that the donor wanted to keep his identity a secret, but that he thinks very highly of me and is very interested in my research. I guess I was so flattered that I never really questioned why he was so interested. Now I’m beginning to wonder why he chose me and why he’s in such a hurry.
I wanted you to know that I have a small safety box at the bank near the airport in Lima with most of my notes and research in it. You’ll find the key to the safety box in this letter. I haven’t shared this information with anyone else, and I don’t want you to tell anyone about this, not even Francisco. You’re the only person I trust.
Well, that’s it for now. I guess the next time I see you I’ll either be famous or out of work!
Dad
A lump formed in the pit of Sam’s stomach. Slowly, she lifted the key out of the envelope. Inscribed on it were the words “Banco de la Nación.” That’s where her dad’s safety box must be. She thought it strange that he hadn’t wanted Francisco to know about it. They had always been so close, and her dad had always said that he trusted him with his life. Sam squeezed the key, then tucked it safely into a small zippered pocket on her pants. She looked at her watch: 8:27 a.m. She was exhausted, and the day was just beginning. Closing her eyes, she hoped she might get some sleep on the rest of the flight.
CHAPTER FIVE
Inside the ruins, Randall slowly began to move again. He rubbed the back of his head, which ached terribly. As he did so, he felt a lump the size of a small golf ball. His head slowly began to clear, and he struggled to make out his surroundings in the darkness. The last thing he remembered was being in the chamber examining the symbols, when suddenly everything had gone black. It appeared, now, that the symbols were buttons, and that he had activated some sort of trap door in the chamber, but it must have closed, again. Still groggy and unable to see in the darkness, he heard moaning from nearby.
“Are you guys alright?” Randall called out.
“I think so. What the heck happened?” Phil asked, rubbing his bruised body.
“I think my leg is broken,” Mike said, groaning.
Randall reached for the flashlight he kept in his zippered pants pocket. Flicking the switch, it lit up the dark chamber like a searchlight. It didn’t take long for him to find Phil and Mike. Examining Mike, he noted there were no bones protruding through the skin, but his leg had a nasty black and blue bump. Mike was clearly in pain and winced as Randall examined his leg. His heart stopped as he heard the sound of footsteps on the ceiling above them, followed by the sound of men talking. One of them seemed to be speaking into a radio, reporting back to someone about losing track of Randall and his assistants. He also heard the clicking of metal as someone chambered a round into a weapon. Randall held his finger to his lips in the glow of the flashlight, letting Phil and Mike know not to make a sound. Slowly, they heard the footsteps exiting the chamber.
“Come on, we need to get out of here before they find us,” Randall whispered, motioning to the chamber above them. He grabbed Mike under one arm and pointed for Phil to do the same on the other side. As they lifted Mike to his feet, he groaned loudly from the pain. The sound of the person walking above them stopped immediately. Randall clasped his hand over Mike’s mouth and the three stood without moving. They remained frozen, fearful of alerting their pursuer above. Finally they heard the footsteps leave the upper chamber. The trio moved silently forward, trying to find a way out.
“Can we stop for a minute?” Mike grimaced in pain as he spoke. “I don’t think I can keep going.”
Randall and Phil gingerly set their friend down on the cold, dusty ground, careful not to jostle his injured leg.
“Phil, stay here with Mike. I’m going to look for help or a way out. Do you have any sort of light?”
Phil fumbled through his clothing without luck. His flashlight must have fallen out when they hit the ground under the trap door. Then he felt a heavy rectangular object in one of his pockets. “I have my phone. Give me a minute, yes, I have the flashlight app on it.” With a couple touches of the screen, a glowing light appeared around Phil and Mike’s face.
Randall handed Phil his backpack. “There’s water and food in here. Mike, I have a jacket in there, too. Put it on and try to stay warm.”
“What about you, Professor?” Mike asked in protest.
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Phil, take care of Mike. I’m going for help and will be back as soon as I can.”
CHAPTER SIX
It was mid-afternoon, and the sun was bright as Sam exited the plane into the airport. Passengers streamed through the terminal and into the arms of loved ones waiting for them. As she looked around, it took her only a moment to spot the sign with her name.
“Hello, Professor,” the man holding the sign said, as she approached. “I will be driving you to the University of Lima to meet Dr. Andrade.”
“Thank you, but I need to make a stop before we go to the campus. Can you take me to the Banco de la Nación?”
“Of course, Doctor, but may I ask why? Dr. Andrade is very anxious to see you.”
“I need to exchange money for this trip. In my rush to get here, I forgot to, before I got on the plane in D.C.”
“But they have this service here at the airport. Can you just exchange it here?” The driver pointed out the obvious to Sam.
“I would feel better doing it at a bank. I know it sounds funny, but my father always taught me to go where the locals conduct their business.”
“Of course, Doctor, I’m at your service. May I take your bags?”
“Thank you.”
The trip to the bank was a short, seven minute drive, directly along Av Javier Prado Este. They passed through an area that was a mixture of commercial buildings intermingled with open space. Having never been to Lima before, Sam enjoyed the view as they sped past the Parque Pallardelli. Sam’s driver pulled up to the bank and opened the door for her. “Do you need help with translation?”
“No, thank you,” Sam said. “My Spanish is pretty good, and I’m looking forward to getting more practice.”
She exited the car and stepped out into the street, which was packed with people milling about. The business district of Lima was much like any other major metropolitan area with large buildings lining each side of the road. Business men and women wearing suits and skirts walked down the sidewalks conversing about the latest office gossip and big deals they were working on.
To the right of the car, she saw the bank her father had referred to in his letter. The bank was concrete and glass, built in a very utilitarian fashion. Sam entered the front door and walked up to the business teller.
“Hola, cómo pueda le ayudo?” The teller asked, greeting Sam and inquiring how she could help her.
“Hi, I need your help with a safety deposit box.” Sam held out the key from her father’s letter.
“You’re American, okay.” The teller switched to English. “Is this the key to your box?”
“Yes, and I would like to get it, please.” Sam’s outward calmness belied her nervousness.
The teller typed away at a keyboard and her expr
ession changed to a more somber look.
“According to our records, this box belongs to Dr. Nicholas Randall. Do you have ID?”
“Of course.” Sam fished her license out of her purse. “Dad asked me to pick it up for him. I’m on my way to meet him at the University.” Sam handed the ID to the teller, who looked momentarily confused.
“Is there a problem?”
“No, this is fine,” the teller said, handing the card back to Sam. “Come this way.” She motioned to Sam to follow her to the back of the bank where the safety deposit boxes were located. The two walked down a long flight of stairs. To Sam, it had the distinct feeling of walking deep into the catacombs of an underground tomb. The lack of windows only fueled the feeling.
At the bottom of the stairs, there was a locked gate. The teller unlocked it, and both women walked in. The room’s walls were comprised of rectangular boxes, some large and some small. The teller stopped in front of the box Sam was looking for. “This is your safety deposit container. Just push the buzzer when you’re done.”
Sam set the box down on the counter and took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”
When she opened the box, her eyes quickly caught sight of it: a hard-bound leather notebook. Her father’s journal. She lifted it gingerly from the box and opened it, flipping through the pages. There were notes, diagrams, and maps all written and drawn in her father’s handwriting. She unzipped her backpack and slipped the book into the main compartment. Thinking that the box was now empty, she had begun to close it when something caught her eye. Re-opening it, she found a beautiful necklace inside. It was on a thick-linked golden chain, which was looped through an intricately carved medallion. She picked it up and looked at it more closely. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the outside of the medallion, which had unevenly spaced notches around them. She ran her fingers over them, noting their squared ends. She then observed strange writing on its outer edge, circling it in a band much like the writing on a coin. Sam had never seen writing like this before. She looked toward the middle of the medallion. There was a square box with a round jewel in the middle. The box was comprised of small rectangles stacked upon each other like a wall. It reminded Sam of the all-seeing eye on the back of a one-dollar bill. The jewel was a beautiful light blue and seemed to be inset into the wall.
She slipped the medallion into her backpack, closed the box, and rang the buzzer. In a short time, the teller reappeared.
“Can I be of further assistance?”
“No, I’m done, thank you.”
Back in the University’s car, Sam thought about her dad’s journal and the strange medallion. Was it a gift? Sam dismissed the notion. Clearly the medallion played a role in the research her dad had been doing, but what was it for? Was there a hidden message in the writing? Who had it belonged to and where had he found it? It was like a big puzzle, and not only did Sam not know where the pieces went, she didn’t even know what pieces she had and which were missing.
“Here we are, Dr. Randall.” The driver’s voice seemed to be speaking to her from another dimension. “Dr. Andrade is waiting inside for you.”
Samantha looked up the steps of the main administration building and was impressed by the structure. It appeared to be quite old and had been constructed with neatly carved stone blocks. The design was clearly an example of old Spanish architecture and was unlike anything Sam had seen back home. She walked up the steps and opened the heavy wooden door.
Francisco was standing in the hallway speaking to a young lady wearing glasses when he saw Sam.
“Samantha!” Francisco wrapped her in a big bear hug. He was a large man, six-foot-two and a bit bigger in the waist then the last time she had seen him. “It’s so good to see you!”
“Thanks, Francisco, it’s good to see you, too. You haven’t changed a bit,” Sam lied. Age had clearly impacted Francisco. Aside from putting on a few pounds, his hair was gray and thinning. He also had deep wrinkles on his forehead, undoubtedly from years of stress caused by supporting her father’s unpopular theories. He really had been good to her dad, and he had clearly paid a price for supporting her father’s unusual hypotheses.
“Thank you, dear. You must be tired after your flight. Let’s get your bags and sit down and talk. Domingo, please get Dr. Randall’s bags and bring them to my office.”
“Of course, Dr. Andrade.” Domingo smiled kindly.
“My office is this way, Samantha.”
Francisco led her down the ornate marble hallway into a spacious office decorated with exotic relics from around the world. Francisco had a beautiful mahogany desk, which appeared to be hand-carved by a master craftsman. It must have been worth a small fortune. Apparently, being the Vice President of Academic Affairs for the University had its privileges.
“How was your flight?” Francisco asked.
“It was good, but a little long. Francisco, what happened to my dad?” Samantha wasn’t wasting any time with small talk.
Francisco took a deep breath and sighed. His dark brown eyes looked deeply into Sam’s. “Sam, what do you know about your dad’s research?”
“I know that he was trying to prove his alternate theory of human technological development in this area. I know that he made multiple trips here over several years to study a tribe in the jungle. He had been trying to find some temple in the jungle that he believed held the key to proving his theory and that he had finally convinced the elders to take him to the temple.”
“You have most of the story, Sam, but you’re missing a few big pieces. Your dad probably didn’t go into detail about the tribe, did he?”
Sam drew her head back, confused by Francisco’s statement.
“What about the tribe?”
Francisco looked squarely into Sam’s eyes.
“A wealthy donor provided funding for your dad to conduct research on a local tribe not far from here. He had made several visits to them and was hoping to learn more about their ancestry.”
“Who was the donor and why was he interested in my dad’s research?”
“I don’t know, Sam. He, or she, wanted to remain anonymous, but whoever it was believed in your father.”
“Go on.”
“There was something special about the tribe. They were very unique, physically.”
Sam cocked her head to the side; she wasn’t sure what was coming next.
“The tribe is known as the Capanhuaco, and your father was the first person to meet them. They are about four feet tall and they have abnormally large, close-set eyes. Their noses are also different, very small, almost nothing more than two slits in the front of their faces. And they have larger than average heads. For the size of their bodies, their head size is off the chart. We had a doctor confidentially examine a few of the Capanhuaco, and their internal organs are fairly similar to our own, except that their lungs are larger than ours. He wasn’t sure why, but he believed that this allows them to spend large amounts of time underwater or in areas that are not well ventilated.”
“What has this got to do with what happened to Dad?” Sam asked.
“The ruins that your father was searching for are sacred to the Capanhuaco, and outsiders are expressly forbidden from entering them. According to legend, their ancestors foretold of a Great Reunification with their brethren living deep within the mountain. When this event occurs, the two tribes will unify and travel together back to their ancient homeland. According to the prophecy, the Great Reunification will be announced by the physical upheaval of the land that will grow so enormous, it will eventually destroy the underground city and the Capanhuaco’s home, Paititi. About two years ago, earthquakes started occurring in the region where the tribe lives. They have become more frequent and now they are a daily occurrence, sometimes happening two or three times a day. Your father believes it’s a sign that the Great Reunification is nearly at hand.”
Sam listened intently, watching Francisco’s eyes for signs he might be lying. He wasn’t.
“W
e’re not sure why, but the tribe needs someone’s help to make the prophecy come true. Without this help, the Reunification can never take place. That’s the reason they agreed to take your father to the ruins. We believe the Capanhuaco have taken your father to the entrance of Vilcabamba. According to the stories they shared, their ancestors had an exceptionally advanced technological society. Everything about them defies conventional human development theory. They were far too advanced for their time in history, having built a huge underground civilization with roads, large buildings, heating and … even lighting.”
“Excuse me?”
Francisco pursed his lips and let out a deep sigh. “Based on discussions with the elders, the underground city had electricity.”
Samantha sat back in her chair, blinking her eyes. She felt like a boxer who had just taken a right cross to the jaw.
In all of his letters, her dad had never mentioned any of these details about this odd tribe. Why? This was one of the most incredible discoveries of their time, and her dad hadn’t mentioned a word about it to her.
“So you’re trying to tell me that a civilization that was, what, 1,500 or 2,000 years old, had electricity?” she asked incredulously.
“We carbon dated the tablets that contained the ancient texts and put their age at 4,000 to 5,500 years,” Francisco replied.
Sam was stupefied, unable to respond to what she was being told. Every ounce of her scientific being was unable to grasp her colleague’s words. If it hadn’t come from Francisco, if anyone else would have told her these things, she would have dismissed them as the ramblings of a demented individual. But this was Dr. Francisco Andrade, one of the most distinguished and published archaeologists in the world. He was respected, and even revered, in his field. He was also the best friend her father had ever had and was a man who had defended her father at a time when no one else would even take his calls—including her. He was as close to family as anyone in the world, and he was dead serious.
The Vilcabamba Prophecy: A Nick Randall Novel Page 2
