Gamy steered while Chi sat in the bow like a carved mahogany figurehead, his sharp eyes probing the gauzy haze for obstacles human and otherwise. They had been on the move since dawn after overnighting on a small midstream islet. Chi slept ashore on the oversized hummock. The encounter with Old Yellow Beard still gave Gamay the shivers. Chi assured her there was no danger from snakes. Even a worm would have been unwelcome company, she said. She preferred the discomfort but relative security, of the pram. A loud hiss startled her awake, and she was relieved to see it was only the camp stove. Chi was preparing coffee. They had a quick breakfast of trail mix and got an early start on the river.
The chicleros' larder would keep them well supplied for days. With little room in their pram, they had filled another boat with food, bottled water, and fuel and` towed it behind them. The added burden slowed their progress, but the supplies were vital if they expected to survive.
The midmorning sun burned the fog phantoms away, and visibility was dear once more even though the tradeoff was a suffocating humidity. Gamay had found a battered straw hat that helped prevent sunstroke and shaded her eyes from the blinding tropical light.
The river twisted and turned. As they approached each bend, Chi raised his hand and Gamay reduced the throttle to an idle. For a few minutes they would float with the current and cock their ears, listening for voices or the buzz of motors. No longer fearful of attack from behind, they were wary of surprises from ahead. They didn't want to round a bend and bump into a boatload of brigands. The jury was still out on the helicopter. They still weren't sure whether it was friend or foe. The chopper had saved them from the rapids. Yet they hadn't forgotten that it also dumped them into the river.
Sometimes a fish jumped out of the water, and the splash was like a gunshot in. a barrel. Otherwise, aside from the metallic gurgle past the aluminum hull, they heard only the chatter and squawk of birds gossiping in the trees and the drone and whine of insects. Gamay was grateful for the generous supply of Cutter's. The bug repellent had to be reapplied frequently to replace the goop washed away by sweat or the occasional rain shower Chi didn't seem to be bothered by bugs. Natural selection, Gamay surmised. Any Mayan susceptible to malaria or other insect borne ailments would have been weeded out of the pack long ago.
The river's character changed as the hours passed. The waterway was reduced to half its original size. Squeezing the same amount of river into fifty percent less space made , for a strong, smooth current. The flat countryside had become more rolling, the banks steeper and higher, covered with impenetrable growth.
Gamay had chafed at their steady but slow African Queen pace. She wasn't sure she liked the toboggan run aspect any better. As their speed picked up there was less margin for error. "I wonder where we are," she murmured, eyeing the vinecovered limestone walls that closed in from each side.
"I've been thinking the .same thing." Chi scanned the sky. "We know that must be east because it's where the sun rose. We have need of your Girl Scout training."
She laughed. "What we really need is a handheld GPS receiver."
Chi reached into his pack and extracted the ancient instrument they'd found in the cave temple. The sun glinted off the burnished metal. He handed the instrument to Gamay. 'Know how to work one of these gadgets?"
As a marine biologist I spend most of my time under the water and leave it to others to get me there. I've taken a couple of navigational courses, though."
Chi took the tiller while Gamay examined the instrument. It was the first chance for a close look at the device since they discovered it. Again she marveled at the workmanship of the boxlike wooden case and the circular interlocking gears. The lettering was definitely ancient Greek, spelling out the names of various gods.
She applied pressure with her forefinger to the largest wheel, but like the other moving parts it was stuck fast by corrosion. Engraved in the largest wheel were depictions of animals. Sheep. Goats. Bear. Even a lion. From their positioning Gamay concluded that they. represented star constellations. It reminded her of the cardboard star charts with the rotating dials that show the night sky at a given time of the year. Clever.
"Whoever put this device together was a genius," she said.
"I've only figured out part of its function. It tells you what the, night sky looks like at a given time of year. More important, it could tell you from the sky what time of year it was."
"In other words, a celestial calendar that would be invaluable in knowing when to expect the rainy season, when to plant and harvest."
And when to sail, too. Also where you are. You can use the backside as a sextant that gives you an approximate but fairly accurate sun's azimuth."
"What are the other wheels used for?"
"They could be a can opener for all I know You'll have to ask someone with technical expertise;" Gamay said with a shake of her head. "Too bad the mechanism is corroded. I wouldn't mind knowing where we are.."
Chi rummaged in his rucksack and pulled out a map which he spread on his knees. "This river isn't shown," he said, tracing their approximate route with his finger. "My guess is it's only this big after rainy season. When we factor in our direction and speed, I'd venture that if we haven't gone over the border to Guatemala, we're very close to it. Which would make sense. The looted artifacts are smuggled through Guatemala. to Belize and points beyond."
"I wasn't planning on a trip to Guatemala when I came down here for NUMA, but I guess I don't have much choice."
"Look on the bright side," Chi said. "We have the chance to put a stop to this terrible business of smuggling antiquities."
Gamay cocked an eyebrow. She hoped some of Chi's optimism would rub off. Given the precarious state of their minute-to-minute existence, she hadn't thought of them as a smugglerbusting duo. Her main goal was survival. She was getting tired of playing the Perils of Pauline. The fact that they weren't dead was probably mostly a result of dumb luck.
She indicated several penciled X's on the map. Any idea what these are?'
After a moment's study Chi said, "They could be anything. Dig sites, places they stockpiled artifacts or supplies, distribution."
And we're heading right into the middle of things from what this handydandy device tells us." She hefted the instrument and gave it back to Chi.
"Interesting," Chi said thoughtfully as he carefully stuffed the ancient instrument into his pack. "In our zeal to put this to practical use we have forgotten its archaeological significance."
"I'll leave it to others to hash that out. I'm a marine biologist now."
"Yet you can't deny that finding an ancient Greek artifact in a pre-Columbian setting raises questions."
"Questions I'm not prepared to answer."
"Nor am 1. Not yet. But I know that I will bring the wrath of the archaeological establishment down on my head at the slightest hint of pre-Columbian contact with Europe. This instrument did not get here by itself. It was either delivered by Europeans to America or transported by Americans who went to Europe."
"Maybe it's a good thing we don't have anybody to tell," Gamay said.
The strengthening current ended their discussion. The river had become even narrower and gorgelike, the walls steeper and higher. Chi was having trouble controlling the boat, and Gamay took over. There was no noisy ,rushing of water that would indicate they were near rapids, not yet, but Gamay stayed alert.
"Our speed is picking up," she told Chi.
"Can you slow us down?" .
"I've got the motor practically on idle to maintain steering control. Keep a sharp eye and ear out. If it looks like rough water ahead I'll steer for shore, and we'll figure out what to do."
At the foot of the walllike bankings was a muddy beach a couple of yards wide. Enough space to pull off the river for a breather. She was buoyed by another consideration. This was fine only way the chicleros could have come. Which meant the river was navigable for a small boat. Controlling the towed boat was a problem. Time to pull up on shore, tra
nsfer supplies, and cut loose.
The river suddenly narrowed considerably, and the water speed doubled.
She and Chi exchanged puzzled glances. Still no sound of rapids. They were rounding a long curve, the bankings closing in so that it seemed that they could almost touch them. Gamay planned to go wide on the turn and simply rum the boat onto the narrow beach. The supply boat whipsawed, then jerked in the other direction to throw her steering off. She knew from . experience that when things go wrong on a boat they realty go wrong. Drastic action is the only way to avoid disaster.
"Cut her loose!" she shouted.
Chi stared at her, uncomprehending.
She made a knifing motion with the edge of her hand. "Cut the supply boat line, or it will tangle in our propeller."
Once Chi understood he acted quickly. He severed the towline with a quick swipe of his machete. The loaded pram went into a slow spin and headed right at them. Gamay and Chi were both watching the boat, hoping it would pass them. A collision in the narrow canyon would be a disaster. She was glancing over her shoulder, trying to steer so as to avoid a crash, and didn't see the wall of limestone that loomed directly in their path until the last second.
Gamay ducked so she wouldn't hit her head as the pram shot through an opening in the wall. Within seconds the swiftmoving river had sucked them deep into the maw, and the vestiges of daylight disappeared.
"We need a flashlight, Professor," she said, her voice echoing in the inky darkness.
The flashlight flicked on, and the shaft of light fell on wet rocks that glistened only yards away She swung the tiller to avoid a crash, oversteering in her haste, and was turned sideways by the current. After a few dicey moments she had the boat under control again and was moving with the river flow.
Chi played the flashlight beam ahead and above on rough wet walls and ceilings. The underground river reminded Gamay of a fun house, only she wasn't having any fun. Especially after the beam picked up what looked like clusters of black leaves covering the ceiling. The light reflected on thousands of burning-red pinpoints of light. She held her breath not so much out of fear but to block out the overpowering ammonia stench.
"I hate bats," she muttered, gritting her teeth.
"Keep still, and you'll be all right," Chi cautioned.
No need for that warning. Gamay was frozen in place by the thought of leathery wings and sharp pointed teeth.
The creatures stayed where they were, however, and in time the bat population thinned out to nothing.
"Fascinating," Chi said. "I've never seen a river go underground so abruptly."
"Excuse me for saying so, Professor Chi, but your country has too many caves and holes in the ground for my taste."
"Si, Dr. Gamay It's like Swiss cheese, I'm afraid."
Gamay tried to look on the bright side, then realized there wasn't one. They had been sucked into the bowels of the earth, and there was no assurance they would ever come out. At best, this was the route the chicleros used, which meant they might bump into more of the smugglers. Gamay lifted the propeller out of the water, and they used a paddle to steer, fending off with their hands and feet when the pram bumped noisily into the sides of the cave.
Gamay grabbed on to a small stalagmite and wrapped a few turns of their severed tow line around it. The makeshift cleat held. They crawled up onto a rock shelf and lit a camp light. Gamay expected their errant supply boat to come barreling by but it must have been caught up. Chi mourned the loss of his Spam. Gamay said maybe they would catch up with it later. She wouldn't miss the canned meat, but the fuel and water would come in handy.
Over lunch of jerky and cold tortillas they discussed their options and agreed that there was only one: they had to go on. Neither expressed the unspoken fear that the river would come to a dead end. Or no end at all. But the possibility hung over their heads like a black cloud.
They got back in the boat, restarted the motor so they'd have control and traveled another half hour, often bending over with fits of coughing from the damp musty air. Gamay felt as if her lung linings were becoming as mildewed as the rest of her. The current seemed to diminish. Chi, who'd been lighting the way ahead, announced that the river was almost back to its original width above the rapids. Chi had placed the camp light in the prow of the boat, and its yellow glow illuminated what looked like a large cave.
"Stop!" Chi shouted over the suddenly echoing sound of the motor.
Gamay cut power and jerked the tiller around, narrowly avoiding. a collision with the black wall in their way. The river had disappeared again. It must have gone even deeper, she surmised.
They were in a large pool. A narrow tributary extended off the main waterway. For want of a better course, Gamay pointed the pram into what looked like a manmade canal.
Chi shut off the lantern and leaned forward, staring into the darkness at a faint orange glow which grew larger and brighter as they neared, finally materializing into a flickering kerosene lantern on the piling of a small pier. Gamay slid the boat in next to two identical prams tied up at the dock and cut the motor. They listened intently but heard no sound louder than their own nervous breathing.
"Guess this is the end of the ride," Gamay said.
They packed Chi's rucksack with their remaining supplies and made their way cautiously along the pier which was built against a level limestone shelf about as wide as a sidewalk The walkway widened, and the rough walls gave way to smooth ones. They followed a trail of lights, moving from one lantern to another, until they were in a large chamber: The walls and ceiling were smooth and squarecut.
Chi took in his surroundings. "This was a quarry. Probably used by the ancients to cut limestone for their temples and houses. We're in the middle of Mayan activity."
"I don't think the ancients used kerosene lanterns."
"Nor do I. The good news for us is that there must be an entrance somewhere."
They explored further and came upon dozens of wooden boxes stacked on pallets. Chi walked down the row and peered into the boxes. "Incredible," he whispered. "There must be hundreds of Mayan artifacts here. They're using thus quarry to store stolen antiquities."
"Makes sense," Gamay agreed. "The loot is brought in via the river and shipped out from here." A light bulb went off in her head.
"They'd need land transportation to move the artifacts out of here."
Chi wasn't listening. He was standing in front of a set of wide shelving built against the chamber wall. The beam of his flashlight went back and forth over a number of large stone blocks lined up on the shelves like a display at a tombstone store. "The boats again," he whispered.
Gamay stepped closer and saw carvings in the stone. "These are similar to the carvings we saw back at the ruins."
"Yes, it seems the looting is far more extensive than I imagined. They must have hit other archaeological sites similar to the one we visited. They used a diamond edged power saw, to cut these sections from the wall." He sighed heavily. "This is a tragedy."
Intellectual curiosity momentarily overwhelmed their survival instinct. They might have stayed there all day comparing notes if Gamay hadn't noticed a whitish glow at the far end of the quarry. Daylight. At last, a way out of this creepy place. Since they'd climbed out of the boat she'd been dogged by the feeling that they were not alone. With a quick glance over her shoulder she grabbed Chi by the arm and practically dragged him away from the stone artifacts.
The light was coming through an opening about as wide as a garage door topped with the typical Mayan corbeled arch: They stepped outside. The sudden change from dark coolness to dazzling heat was a shock, and they blinked their eyes against the bright sunlight. In front of the opening was a crude loading platform and a winch hanging from a crane. The earth around the platform was soaked with motor oil and churned up by tire treads.
Gamay stepped forward for a closer look only to stop as she saw something in her peripheral vision. She turned to the right, then to the left, and didn't like what she saw.
On either side of the quarry entrance, which was cut into a hill, was a man. One had a rifle trained on her, the other a shotgun leveled at Chi. They had pistols tucked in their belts as well. Gamay and Chi agreed with their eyes not to make a precipitous move. Their only escape route was back the way they'd come, and that was blocked a second later when a third armed man stepped from the quarry. Her instincts about being followed were right on the mark, Gamay thought ruefully.
All three men had the dirty, unshaven look that she had come to expect from the locals, but these chicleros had a harder, more disciplined aspect about them than the men who had chased them downriver. That would make sense. The men back at the excavation site would have been at the bottom of the pecking order, the laborers who dug up the antiquities and the mules who transported them. These must be the guards. The third man issued a curt order to the others. They gestured with their weapons for Gamay and Chi to move along a dirt road that led away from the quarry.
They followed it for several minutes through the forest until they came to where the trees and brush had been cut away to make a parking space for a dented and mud-spattered four-wheel-drive GMC pickup truck. The door of a small shed was open, revealing the greasy tools hanging inside. A man was working on the engine. He backed out from under the upraised hood when he heard the others approaching. He was a skinny, waxen-skinned man whose scraggly narrow beard made him look like a poor man's Satan. He and the head guard talked. Even without knowing Spanish, Gamay could tell that the mechanic was the one in authority.
He directed a question at Chi, who had slipped back into his humble peon mode. They talked a minute, then the man frowned and shook his head in a this-is-all-l-need expression. Gamay noted with relief that there was none of the leering rape threat of her earlier encounters, but she wasn't reassured by seeing that the man kept his hand on his pistol grip the whole time he talked with Chi. After a moment's thought he got in the truck's cab and talked in low tones to a squawking radio voice. The conversation was heated at times, but the mechanic was smirking when he came back and issued an order to the guards. They grabbed Gamay and Chi and roughly plunked them on the ground behind the truck, then bound their feet and tied their arms to the bumper.
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