by Tracy Krauss
She pulled away from his grasp and turned her back. “You can’t possibly believe -”
He cut her off again. “Think about it. Every culture has legends about giant reptiles; dragons and such. What if there’s some truth to it? Most legend has at least a small basis of truth to it. We’d never have discovered the ancient city of Troy without believing the legend first."
"Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself." Laura’s tone was sceptical.
"What if the lab results come back and verify Rocco’s claims? What if they are Pterodactyl bones?"
"Rocco!" Laura fairly spat the name. "The man is a lunatic. If not for him and his crazy ideas, nobody would have even considered anything of the kind."
"If that’s the case, the lab results will clearly show it. Once those bones are sent it’s out of our hands, anyway."
Laura’s eyelashes fluttered nervously. “Then why bother opening more tombs? We’ve got all the evidence we need."
"All the evidence you need, you mean. But not near enough evidence to satisfy this cowboy." He held her gaze for a moment, his mouth a straight line.
Laura’s arms flopped to her sides and she let out an exasperated sigh. “Why are you being stubborn about this?”
“Why are you?” he countered.
She turned on her heel and scurried from the lab, her ponytail flying out behind her.
Mark watched her retreating figure and then turned back to the bones. Maybe he was being stubborn, but sometimes truth demanded it.
Chapter Four
Several more tombs were opened, revealing a distinct pattern. Each grave housed a very large human specimen with the same ‘wing bones’ and headdress carefully placed with the body. A few other pieces of gold ornamentation were also found, usually depicting a winged creature of sorts, either in flight or standing at attention.
Progress had also been made at unblocking the entrance to the inner chamber. It appeared as if an earthquake or some other natural disaster had blocked the entrance itself. Several members of the team had been working diligently around the site with brushes and baggies, lest they find any tidbits worth bringing to the surface. The day finally arrived when they were ready to break the final seal to the entrance and investigate the inner room itself.
A reverent hush enveloped the crew as the last stone was carefully removed. Laura, Rocco and Anthony Vanguard, the resident expert on legends of the South Western regions of Africa, stood ready. Mark stepped carefully over the portal and shone his lantern into the depths of the room.
"Look at the walls," Laura gasped. They gave off an eerie glow, similar to the florescence of white walls under black light, only green in hue. Elaborate paintings covering every surface jumped forward.
"What’s making it glow like that?" Anthony peered through his wire-rimmed glasses. His hair stuck out at odd angles, fuzzy in the glowing light.
"Must be the metallic alloy we found traces of," Laura said. "I never did identify it."
Mark touched the surface of the wall, not wanting to cause damage, but unable to stop himself. It was indeed plaster, applied masterfully to create a remarkably smooth surface. When he removed his hand, traces of the green glow had transferred to his fingertips.
"I knew it," Rocco said under his breath. “Just look at these pictures.”
They all turned to examine the story depicted on the wall to Rocco’s left. A monarch of sorts, clearly wearing royal attire, and sitting on a throne, was presiding over a throng of ordinary subjects. Startling, however, were the numerous guards surrounding this kingly figure. Humanoids with massive wings outstretched and long, pointed beaks. Certainly not the primitive cave paintings they had expected.
"Kingly guards," Anthony stated. "Just like we suspected."
Other parts of the mural showed Pterodactyl like creatures flying through the air, while others were being sacrificed on elaborate altars.
"So these creatures, whatever they are, were part of an important religious ritual," Laura noted. "Obviously symbolic, but there’s still no proof about what they were."
"I’d say the artist’s rendition is pretty clear," Rocco said cryptically.
They turned to another wall.
"Our lanterns seem to be activating this illuminating effect." Mark pointed to some ceramic jars placed along the perimeter of the room. "What do you suppose these are?"
"Boss, check this one out," Rocco said, embarrassment evident in his voice.
Mark and the others turned to look at the opposite wall. Anthony whistled. It was a graphic depiction of grotesque winged creatures having sexual intercourse with human women. The whole scene was presided over by another Pterodactyl like creature.
The room itself was not that large; only about ten feet square. On the far wall, covered by more of the glowing plaster, was the clear sign of another door. "The king himself?" Mark asked.
"Probably." Laura squinted at the wall. "We’ll need a specialty team to open the door without damaging the plaster."
"What do you make of it, Anthony?" Mark asked.
"It clearly supports the local stories of a mighty race of kings that inhabited the area.” Anthony cocked his head to one side. His somewhat rumpled appearance belied the intellect beneath. “Notice the ornamentation and signs of superiority. And the guards... Well, I think we’ve seen evidence enough that they were more than just legendary." He looked at the rest over the tops of his glasses and grinned.
"And the flying creatures? What do you make of them?" Mark asked.
"Clearly reptilian," Anthony mused. "You know, Doc, I’m not so sure that Rocco’s so off base on that one. Of course, legend abounds, especially to the north, about Pterodactyl like creatures living in the Jiunda Swamps. Kongamoto, they’re called. Locals have reported sightings as recently as a hundred years ago." Laura let out a grunt, but Anthony continued. "Now this one here has some interesting possibilities." He pointed to the last depiction. "There are numerous accounts from various cultures all over the world of godlike beings coming to earth and copulating with humans. It’s often a way that ancient cultures justified a certain line of rulers. If the king descended from the gods, ordinary folks were afraid to question him. It’s interesting that this particular one also includes the strong reptilian bird imagery that is so prevalent."
"Seems logical, given the reverence and symbolism the creatures seem to evoke," Mark said with a nod.
"True," Anthony agreed.
Mark surveyed the walls and let out a sigh. "Well, we’d better get busy gathering our stats. I want detailed photos from every possible angle. I also want another sample of that plaster, as well as the pigment, for further analysis. And one of these ceramic containers. We’ll want a crew down here as soon as possible to open that next door."
"I’m on it, boss," Rocco offered, already heading out into the narrow passageway that led to the surface.
"Laura, you’ll look after the photos?" Mark asked.
"Don’t I always?" she shot back.
"Good. I have a couple of ideas I want to check out."
◇ ◇ ◇
Mark did have something to check on - a hunch, really. The ceramic jars that had been placed around the perimeter of the antechamber brought back some vague recollections of something similar he’d seen in a museum somewhere. It took some time to locate the information on the internet, but, sure enough, it was there. Several years back, similar ceramic jars had been found in an ancient Mesopotamian site. Encased in the jar was a smaller copper cylinder suspended within its mouth. Inserted into the length of the cylinder was a length of iron ore. Apparently, when grape juice was added to the jar, an electric current was generated.
The jars recovered from this site were similar in design, although more sophisticated in appearance. Perhaps they were a power source to help illuminate the chamber. Imagine! Early electric lamps!
Now he just needed to find out what was in that plaster to make it glow. He’d already sent a sample, along with some other bo
nes and artefacts, to a personal friend and colleague who worked in New Mexico. John would know what to do with them.
For some reason, however, Mark decided to keep that little bit of insurance a secret.
Chapter Five
"Here’s something that you might find interesting." Anthony pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "I’ve catalogued over 250 stories, from every continent, about gods coming down to earth to sleep with mortal women. Seems they don’t make them as good looking in the ‘ether’ world. Either that, or the gods are always horny."
There was a round of ribald laughter. A group had gathered under the shade of one of the tent flaps, taking a break from the African heat. Besides the expert on folklore and legend, Anthony Vanguard considered himself the resident entertainer.
"Hey, Doc," Anthony called, as Mark walked by. "Did you know I even found just such a reference in the Bible?"
"Huh? What’s that?" Mark stopped in mid-stride. He’d been on his way to talk to Laura and hadn’t really been listening.
"In the Bible. A story about gods getting it on with our women."
"Really?” Mark shook his head. “I don’t recall anything like that."
"Sure. It’s in Genesis. ‘The sons of God had relations with the daughters of men’. Started a whole race of giants, who were apparently very evil, since after that God sent Noah’s flood and killed them all. Part of His judgment on the earth, so the story goes."
Mark nodded absently. "Interesting."
Anthony continued with another story as Mark moved on. He found Laura sitting in front of her computer. "I was wondering if you’d made any progress with the photos."
"It’s coming along fine." She closed the email she was composing, and looked up with an unnatural smile.
"Well, it’s just that I was looking for them in our photo folder and I didn’t see anything. I thought you were making some hard copies as well."
"I am. I just haven’t gotten to it yet." Laura swung her ponytail. "They should be there. I downloaded them myself."
"Well, they aren’t," Mark repeated, more irritably.
"Are you sure?"
Mark gave her a murderous look and crossed his arms. "Check for yourself."
Laura brought up the photo folder on her screen and opened it. After a few moments of scrolling, she shrugged. “That’s funny. They were here yesterday."
"Look what else is missing." Mark pointed. “All the photos of the wing bones are gone, too. Somebody is sabotaging our data.”
Laura looked up sharply. "Are you accusing me?”
"I haven’t ruled anyone out."
Her eyes narrowed. "I may not agree with Rocco’s assessments of those bones. In fact, I admit I’m a little uncomfortable with the way this whole dig is progressing. But I’m a professional. I don’t go around sabotaging sites."
"Then who is?" Mark asked.
"I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a computer glitch. They probably got put somewhere else and we’ll find them later. In any case, I’ll go down and take more pictures immediately, if it’ll make you feel better." She lifted her chin.
"Don’t bother. I’ll do it myself," Mark muttered. "But from now on I want everything, and I mean every scrap of information, to personally pass my inspection. I want everything backed up in triplicate." He turned on his heel and strode from the room.
The missing photos were just another in a line of problems. The lab in Harare had apparently sent an important package almost two weeks ago. No one on site remembered receiving the registered package. Not even Laura. She suggested that it got lost in the mail. After all, this was Africa.
It could happen, he supposed, but too many such slips were more than coincidence. He kept looking over his shoulder, like he couldn’t trust anybody any more. He had already started compiling notes and evidence on the side that he was emailing to himself, as well as to his friend John Bergman at the university in New Mexico.
He sat down at his workstation with a heavy sigh and flipped open his laptop. Good. There was a message from John, now.
“Analysis complete on those bone samples. One of the most perfect examples of a Pteranodon I’ve seen. Probably dates to the late Cretaceous period about 65 million years ago. Like to know where you found him. As to the human sample, we did Carbon dating only, since you sent no other reference info. It is definitely male and appears to be about 40,000 years old, give or take a few thousand. As to Carbon dating the Pterodactyloid, we were not able to get an accurate reading. The sample was contaminated and was giving a much younger reading than is possible. Analysis also came back on the metallic alloy samples you sent. Although, I’m not a specialist in geochemistry, it is apparently a very unique combination of copper and tungsten. All the official specs are being sent, both by web and hard copy via registered mail. Just thought you’d be interested in a sneak peek. JB.”
Mark let the contents of the message sink in. It was confirmed, then. The strange bones were Pterodactyl. As to their age, Mark had to laugh. Naturally, the scientists at the lab would not have accepted their findings as accurate. Dinosaur bones could not be dated contemporaneously with human remains. It was unthinkable, even when the evidence was staring them right in the face. Wait until he proved that the two sets of bones had been found together - placed there on purpose. But he realized from the opposition that he’d been facing on site, as well as the easy disregard in his friend’s email message, that he must be very careful about how the facts were presented.
As to the metal that was suspended in the plaster, Mark had some other theories that were developing. Tungsten was used in the filaments of electric light bulbs, while copper wire was the main conductor of electricity used in most modern appliances. What if the ceramic jars were small generators, like the ones found in Mesopotamia, and were used to actually power up the wall itself? It would be an astounding example of advanced technology never before seen from an ancient culture. Then again, nothing should surprise him about this dig anymore. The real dilemma now was, how much should he share with Laura?
◇ ◇ ◇
Laura swung around on her stool. "You sent specimens to New Mexico?" Her voice rose several decibels. "That seems a bit unorthodox. Besides, you need more than one signature to verify the location from which the specimens came. You can’t just go sending off bone samples without anyone else knowing about it. No matter what your friend’s conclusions, if you can’t prove where you found them in the first place his findings are useless."
"I’m getting the feeling that you’re working against me, here, Laura." Mark widened his stance. "What do you mean ‘verify where I got them’? You were there! You saw them with your own eyes, placed along with the human remains. So was Rocco. And Anthony and I don’t know how many others."
"Of course I’m not trying to deny that fact," Laura huffed. "I was just pointing out that you didn’t follow procedure, and therefore, if it came to it, your findings could be considered suspect. There might be plenty of people out there who would like nothing better than to sabotage this dig and make us all look like fools."
"So that’s what you’re worried about. Your reputation."
Her gaze flashed to his. "And yours."
"Thanks.” Mark looked up at the canvas ceiling, mostly to avoid Laura’s haughty gaze. “But I think I can look after myself in that department.”
"I’m worried about you," Laura said quietly. "You’re becoming - obsessive."
"You would be, too, if every time you turn around something else went missing."
"Look, I already apologized for the photos and for the delay in getting the sample results. Although, neither one of those was my fault. What more do you want? A pound of flesh?"
"Of course not. Just forget it." Mark ran a hand through his hair. He really didn’t know who to trust any more.
◇ ◇ ◇
The mental stress was starting to take its toll. Mark lay awake, unable to relax. He turned over on the narrow cot, considering whether to sneak
over to Laura’s tent. They hadn’t renewed their physical relationship since their last disagreement. He wondered what she would say if he just showed up on her doorstep.
Things were too complicated as it was, without making them worse. He thought again about the tests he’d been running in the lab with the ceramic generators. He’d had some success and was anxious to try his theory in the antechamber itself.
The whole camp was asleep as Mark emerged from his tent and looked around. The sky was inky black and clear with the moon at half-mast. He used his pocket flashlight to illuminate the path to the lab where he retrieved some supplies and then continued toward the entrance to the tomb, careful to listen for wild animals along the way. It felt eerie entering this home for the long dead so late at night. Alone. Although it was pitch black inside, even during the day, there was something about the stillness of the night that sent a shiver up his spine.
Once inside the cave, Mark switched on his headlamp. He passed by the various tunnels leading off to the resting places of the guards, and approached the entrance to the antechamber. Suddenly he heard a noise. He stopped dead in his tracks, listening intently. After a few seconds of silence he continued until he heard it again.
"Is someone down here?" he called.
Nothing. The noise had come from within the antechamber. With measured movements, Mark sneaked forward and peeked around the narrow entrance.
"Laura!" Mark expelled a rush of air, his heart pounding.
"Mark! What are you doing down here? You scared me half to death." Laura’s hand was over her heart.
"I could be asking you the same question." He emerged fully into the glowing interior of the chamber.
"I couldn’t sleep," Laura replied. "I thought I’d come down and take those pictures we lost. A peace offering."
