The Kachakas found the remains of the man called Manasseh and buried him under the thick, entangling vines of Toco-Rey to be forgotten. We can only conclude that Dr. Armond Basehart perished in the bomb blast that sealed the first tunnel. We never found his remains at all.
As for the deadly curse of Toco-Rey, we consulted a mycologist from Mexico City, who studied the fungus and its spores and discovered it was a whole new species never before identified. The Latin American Mycological Society wanted to name the new species after him, but he chose to give it the name Kachi-Tochetin, after the ruthless king who used it to curse his treasure. He theorizes that the Oltecas knew the carvies carried the cure for the spore toxin and so were able to survive. The Oltecas probably used foreign slaves who had never encountered the spores or the carvies to act as incubators in the tomb, chaining them to the four pillars until the fungus consumed them and filled the treasure room with spores.
The fungus is still there in Toco-Rey and it is still deadly, but the strange flying slugs are also there, keeping nature in balance as they have for centuries.
Happily, the secret of the deadly curse of Toco-Rey is no longer a secret. An international team of toxicologists have begun studying the slugs and extracting their antitoxin, meaning the spores will no longer be of any use to ruthless weapons dealers.
The treasure we found has been granted to the Langley Memorial Art Museum in recognition of their past work in preserving the history and artifacts of ancient civilizations around the world. The Langley Museum never really hired us, but I understand they have a bonus waiting for me as a token of gratitude. Nice people.
To conclude, I’ll make one observation about all this treasure hunting . . .
Dr. Cooper looked up from his computer keyboard and across the aisle where Jay and Lila sat reclined in their seats, peacefully catching up on some much-needed sleep. Their skin was normal again, and except for some bumps and bruises, they were all right.
Dr. Cooper smiled as he typed,
Having found a fabulous treasure beneath the ground while in the act of saving my two children, I have affirmed one truth I will carry with me for all time: Apart from the dear Lord Himself, my children and my integrity are my greatest treasure, and having them safe with me now, I am the richest man in the world.
An Excerpt from
The Secret of the Desert Stone,
Book Five in The Cooper Kids Adventure Series®
KABOOM! Dr. Henderson’s seismic blaster was like a small cannon held in a steel frame and aimed at the ground. When Jay pressed the detonator switch to set off the explosive charge, the device actually leaped a foot off the surface with Jay and Lila standing on it—supposedly to hold it down. Dr. Jennifer Henderson sat calmly in the shade of the airplane’s wing, her jacket collar up around her face to block the cold wind, tapping away at her portable computer.
“We should get an image in just a few seconds,” she told Dr. Cooper, who was looking over her shoulder. “The blaster sends shock waves through the Stone, and the sensors pick up the echoes. Then the computer interprets the echoes to let us know where the shock waves have been, whether they’ve passed through rooms or tunnels or different strata of rock. . . .”
The tiny cursor was sweeping back and forth across the computer screen. Line by line, beginning at the top, it was weaving an image like a tapestry. So far the image was one solid field of black. Dr. Henderson started tapping some keys. “Come on, come on . . . don’t disappoint me.”
“Woo!” Jay hollered as he and Lila hurried back to the plane. “That blaster was some kind of ride!”
Lila was twisting her finger in her ear. “That thing hurt my ears!”
They joined Dr. Cooper and looked over Dr. Henderson’s shoulder at the computer image. The black tapestry continued to form on the computer screen as she tapped a few more keys, muttering to herself and scolding the computer, “Come on, don’t give me that!”
Finally, the seismic image was complete. Dr. Henderson leaned back, removed her hands from the keyboard, and sighed. “People, unless the equipment isn’t working properly, I’m afraid the results are disappointing. The Stone is solid. No rooms, no tunnels, nothing.”
“Nothing?” Jay asked, clearly disappointed.
Dr. Henderson shook her head, waving her finger over the image on the screen. “See here? Between the top and bottom surfaces there is virtually no change in density. No cracks. No holes. No gaps or bubbles. Nothing.”
“So we haven’t progressed much,” said Dr. Cooper.
“We may have fallen back a little. We don’t even know what the Stone is made of.”
“But you said it was basalt,” said Lila.
Dr. Henderson shot a glance at the gas-powered core drill lying next to the plane’s wheel strut, the drill bit burned and blunted. “While you were setting out the sensors, I tried to drill out a core sample. The drill didn’t even make a scratch. If I’m going to be scientific and objective here, I have to admit I don’t know what this thing is or what it’s made of. I only know it’s indestructible.”
“Do you still think it’s man-made?” Dr. Cooper asked.
Jennifer Henderson sniffed a derisive little laugh. “I’m wondering what the builder used for a chisel. Even though he, or it, or they, left marks, I sure can’t.”
Lila turned her back to a cold breeze that had just kicked up. “His Excellency isn’t going to like this.”
“Just for my information,” said Dr. Henderson,
“now that we have the airplane, can’t we just fly out of the country from here?”
Dr. Cooper looked across the vast, tabletop surface toward the distant horizon, barely visible beyond the Stone’s sharp edge. “Yes, we can. I’m just not sure how far we can go on the fuel we have left.”
“Far enough to get out of Togwana would be fine with me.”
“But the question is, where can we go? If any of the neighboring countries help us escape, Nkromo would brand them as enemies. I’m not sure they’d want that.”
“Well,” said Lila, “at least we’re safe up here.”
As if in response to her words, a disturbing quiver came up through the soles of their shoes.
“I knew it,” Dr. Henderson moaned.
The Stone was quaking, all right. Dr. Henderson’s computer almost slid off its little stand before she grabbed it. The airplane began to rock, its wings dipping and jiggling. From deep below and all around, there was a deep rumble, like continuous thunder, as a gust of wind whipped across the Stone, kicking up tiny ice pellets that stung their faces.
Dr. Henderson was already throwing her gear into the plane. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
Dr. Cooper looked to the east and saw a curtain of snow, ice, and boiling clouds coming their way. “Fair weather’s over. We’d better get off this thing!”
Lila looked the direction her father was looking and saw the storm approaching. Even so, she insisted, “But we’re safe here, really!”
Dr. Cooper just tugged her toward the plane. “Jay, unchock the wheels!”
Dr. Henderson started running away and he grabbed her.
“I’ve got to get the blaster!” she yelled over the rumble and the wind. “And the drill, and all those sensors—”
“What about the airplane?” Dr. Cooper yelled back. “If it gets damaged, we’ll never get down!”
The Stone lurched like a bucking horse. The airplane actually skipped backward several feet, and the Coopers tumbled to the ground. The wind began to whip at them angrily.
Dr. Henderson didn’t need any more convincing. With a cry of fear, she struggled to her feet, jerked the door open, and clambered inside.
Jay and Lila jumped in the back, Dr. Cooper in the front. The plane was still dancing and sidestepping along the quivering ground as Dr. Cooper rattled off the checklist, his hands flying from lever to button to gauge to switch. “Fuel tanks both, electrical off, breakers in, prop on maximum, carb heat cold . . .”
He tw
isted the starter switch and the engine came to life, the prop spinning into a blurred disk in front of the windshield.
A blast of wind, snow, and ice hit them broadside from the right. The plane weather-vaned into it, the tail spinning wildly to the left.
“Okay, we’re nose into the wind,” said Dr. Cooper, jamming the throttle wide open.
The airplane lunged forward, the white swirls of snow and ice blowing past them like sheets in the wind. The old Cessna bucked, skidded, swerved, and tilted as the wind tossed it about, slapping against it this way, then that way. It gained speed, began to tiptoe, then skip along the surface. Dr. Cooper eased the control yoke back, and it took to the air.
“Are we safe?” Dr. Henderson pleaded.
An angry burst of wind came up under one wing and almost flipped the plane over. “Not yet,” said Dr. Cooper, trying to hold the plane steady.
Below them, the sharp edge of the Stone appeared to rotate, tilt, rise, and fall as the airplane was tossed about like a leaf in the wind. The Cessna roared, climbed, struggled, clawed for altitude. Another blast of wind carried it sideways.
“Dad, what is it?” Jay asked. “What’s happening?”
“Heat-generated updrafts,” he yelled over the roar of the engine. “Convergence, convection, wind shear, I don’t know—the Stone’s affecting the weather.”
The plane lurched sideways, twisting, banking, creaking in every joint. A cloud of snow and ice boiled beneath them like an angry white ocean. Dr. Cooper turned the plane eastward, trying to climb above the storm. Below them, the east edge of the Stone came no closer. The wind was so strong they were standing still!
Then the edge of the Stone began to retreat from them. The wind was blowing them backward!
“Oh, brother,” said Dr. Cooper.
“What?” Dr. Henderson cried.
“We’re in for a ride. Hang on.”
“Can’t you do something?”
“If I try to fight against this turbulence, the plane will break apart! We just have to ride it out!”
He eased the throttle back to slow the airplane down, then turned it westward to fly with the wind and get clear of the Stone. The Stone was hidden now beneath an angry mantle of storm clouds, but they could see the clouds breaking over its western edge like water flowing over a waterfall.
“Wind shear,” said Dr. Cooper.
“Oh, no,” whined Dr. Henderson.
Suddenly, the clouds seemed to suck them down, and they dropped into a nether world of pure white cotton on all sides with no up, no down, no sense of direction.
The altimeter was spinning backward, and they could feel the pressure of the atmosphere building against their ears. Eleven thousand, said the altimeter. Ten thousand. Nine.
They were helpless in a violent downdraft, tossed, twisted, thrown about in the clouds.
Eight thousand. Seven. Six.
And there was nothing they could do, except pray.
The Deadly Curse of Toco-Rey Page 12
