The Balance Omnibus

by Alan Baxter

  They sat in the large dining tent again, all the trestle tables surrounded by people talking, a white noise of mixed voices, though Pedro’s voice was near enough to stand out clearly over the hubbub. Most of the tables were surrounded by the local villagers, enjoying their time off, enjoying the good food and drink. Katherine, Thomas, Pedro Sanchez and Father Paleros sat at a table in one corner.

  There was a moment’s quiet chuckling as Sanchez finished his story, each person pausing to sip wine. After a moment Sanchez asked, ‘So, Miss Bailey. What brings a beautiful girl like you into the depths of the jungle, chasing a story like this?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Katherine blushed at the compliment.

  ‘Well, why this type of story?’

  Katherine shrugged. ‘It’s my job to cover these stories.’

  Sanchez nodded. ‘Of course. But surely you had some hand in the field to which you were assigned.’

  ‘I did.’ Katherine was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I’ve always felt drawn to defend the indigenous people of my country.’

  Drake looked up. ‘Drawn? In what way?’

  ‘Well, my maternal grandmother was a native American. She was a beautiful woman and she taught me an awful lot. She taught me about her ways, her culture, her beliefs. I never really took too much stock of the strength of her belief, her reliance upon the earth spirits and such-like, but the stories of the oppressions of her culture fascinated me.

  ‘I was outraged at the way she had suffered as a young woman. And when she married my grandfather, a white man, that oppression descended upon them both. They had it tough. I think it was really my grandmother that instilled in me this desire to defend the rights and cultures of people, whatever they may be.’

  Thomas nodded. ‘So you have something of a crusade going on. Driving your work. And your journalism is the weapon you use.’

  Katherine smiled. ‘I guess so. I’ve always felt that this is what I should do. I’ve always felt that this is where I can achieve something important.’

  ‘Destiny,’ Pedro Sanchez said quietly.

  Katherine looked up at him. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Destiny. Seems to me that fate has put you on quite a noble path.’

  Drake laughed as Katherine shook her head. ‘No, Senor Sanchez,’ she said. ‘I don’t believe in fate or destiny. I believe in free will. We make our own destinies through our decisions.’

  Sanchez nodded. ‘Certainly. But your grandmother being who she was, the nature of your upbringing, your strong ideals, wouldn’t you say that those things set a path for you to follow?’

  ‘Yes, but that’s not destiny! It’s easy to look back and deconstruct a course of events, then say this lead to this which lead to this and so on. You can see destiny in anything if you look at it that way. But it was my own free will which led me to make those choices originally.’

  Pedro smiled. ‘Perhaps.’

  Thomas patted Katherine on the shoulder as he addressed Sanchez. ‘Miss Bailey is something of a pragmatist, I’m afraid. She doesn’t believe in anything supernatural or divine.’

  ‘Really? Well, I suppose that’s an easy perception to live by in the big cities. Rather a different thing among people like these.’ He indicated all the diners.

  After a moment Katherine looked at Sanchez, wondering if she should tell him about her day. With a mental shrug she said, ‘You know, we spoke to a couple of your workers today. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course not. What did you talk about?’

  ‘Well, I asked them how they came to be working here and so on, but you know the most interesting part of the conversation?’ Sanchez shook his head, sipping from his plastic cup. Katherine smiled. ‘I asked about the crystal skull and they went, well, kinda weird on me!’

  ‘Naturally,’ Sanchez replied. ‘They fear it and what might become of anyone or anything related to it. Their spiritual beliefs are extremely strong, their superstitions deeply ingrained in their culture.’

  Thomas leaned forward. ‘Justifiably?’

  Pedro Sanchez raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well,’ Thomas went on, ‘do you think that their superstitions are based in some truth? Do you think they are right to fear the skull and its potential properties, or is it just a native superstition attached to nothing more than a nicely carved rock?’

  Sanchez chuckled. ‘How you veil a very deep question! Are you asking if I believe that the skull has power?’

  Drake shrugged, smiling. ‘It’s obvious that the natives are extremely wary, if not downright terrified of it. That chap in the vault wouldn’t let you uncover it until he had left and the fellows we spoke to today told us that death was around and that the skull was a terrible portent.’

  Father Paleros cleared his throat. ‘You must remember how uneducated these men are, Mr Drake,’ he said. ‘They have little but superstition to believe in.’

  Thomas nodded. ‘Of course. However, my question still stands.’ He looked directly at Sanchez. ‘Sometimes a good education can blind someone to the truth. Do you think they are right to fear it?’

  Sanchez’s eyes grew serious for a moment. ‘There is absolutely no denying that the skull has some form of innate energy, a strong presence if you will. However, its immense age, its beauty and its mysteriousness reinforce our distorted perceptions of it.’

  Drake was quiet for a moment thinking. ‘That doesn’t really answer the question, old boy,’ he said eventually.

  ‘Maybe that’s because there is no answer.’

  Katherine remembered how it had felt to touch the skull. She wished that Thomas could have touched it before Sanchez had interrupted them. ‘Have you ever touched it?’ she asked him.

  ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘And what did you feel?’

  Sanchez smiled. ‘I felt smooth, cold crystal.’

  ‘And nothing more?’ Thomas asked.

  Sanchez turned to him. ‘No, nothing more. Why do you two ask? It’s as if you’re expecting me to reveal a secret.’

  Drake laughed. ‘Maybe we just love a mystery,’ he said sitting back again.

  ‘No, wait,’ Katherine said, not wanting to drop the subject. She was drunk enough not to care about sounding foolish and she knew it, yet she couldn’t help herself. ‘When I touched the skull something very weird happened.’

  Thomas didn’t move, but his attention noticeably sharpened as he watched Katherine closely. Sanchez raised an eyebrow, his expression coaxing her to continue.

  ‘Well,’ she went on, ‘as soon as I touched the skull it was as if my head was full of thousands of voices, all talking at once, and weird colours swam in front of my eyes. It made me feel dizzy.’ She looked from Sanchez to Thomas to Father Paleros, watching for signs of scepticism or ridicule in the faces. She saw none.

  Sanchez looked to Thomas. ‘Have you touched the skull, Mr Drake?’

  Thomas shook his head. ‘But maybe I should.’

  Sanchez grinned broadly. ‘Come on then,’ he said rising.

  Thomas’ eyes widened. ‘Now?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well,’ Thomas replied, ‘you know, I’m quite comfortable here and...’

  Katherine interrupted, tugging at his sleeve as she stood up. ‘Come on, scaredy cat! Where’s that English stiff upper lip?’

  Drake rose to his feet grumbling, but he smiled as he followed Sanchez and Katherine from the dining tent. Father Paleros remained at the table, his expression one of concern and curiosity. He nodded as Thomas looked back from the opening of the dining tent. Thomas nodded back, smiling, and stepped out into the dark night.

  The sky was clear, but there was no moon, at least not yet, making the night deep and velvety, the stars glistening diamonds in the black. They stood for a moment by the tent, letting their eyes adjust to the gloom before heading across the site to the entrance of the pyramid.

  Thomas looked up to the f
ew clouds that hung in wispy veils between the stars. He wished he could stretch, fly up among the clouds and the stars, the wind rushing past him in a cold flood. No matter how intriguing this place might be he still felt trapped from time to time. But he had things to do. As they walked he asked, ‘Why are you so anxious for me to touch the skull, Senor Sanchez?’

  ‘Pedro, please. And to answer your question, it would appear to me that Miss Bailey is rather confused about her experience with the skull and that maybe you might experience something similar and be able to share your discoveries.’

  Katherine looked at him as closely as possible in the low light, trying to decide if he was mocking them or not. But his face seemed perfectly serious.

  ‘Even though you yourself experienced nothing unusual?’ Thomas asked.

  Sanchez nodded. ‘Yes. Just because I’m not in tune with the skull, for want of a better description, that doesn’t mean you won’t be.’

  ‘So you believe what I told you?’ Katherine asked.

  ‘Of course, my dear. I have so many people around me who believe in all sorts of powers attached to the crystal skull, people who claim to have experienced many strange things while working alone in that room. I would be foolish to discount all of their accounts just because I hadn’t experienced anything similar.’

  Thomas chuckled. ‘That’s a very open mind, old boy,’ he said.

  ‘One needs an open mind to work in these places, with these people,’ Sanchez replied. ‘Besides, I’m an archaeologist. That means that I like to discover things, and no one will discover anything if they think they already know everything.’

  Thomas smiled, nodding his approval. ‘Absolutely,’ he muttered quietly. ‘Absolutely.’

  Katherine watched Pedro’s profile for a moment, a darker area among the general shadow of the night. Peter and this guy would get on really well. Neither of them has ever experienced anything remotely paranormal, yet they’re both quite happy to believe in its possibility. I refuse to believe in such nonsense, yet I seem to be the one that’s claiming something supernatural about this skull. Peter, I can hear you laughing at me!

  They reached the pyramid entrance. Sanchez picked up a large torch from by the door, clicked it on. The bright yellow beam splashed across the wall of the pyramid, deep shadows dancing beneath the brickwork. ‘Come on then,’ he said, stepping inside. Thomas and Katherine followed him into the gloomy corridor, the air damper and cooler than ever. The torch beam stretched ahead of them, playing over the walls and floor.

  In the underground chamber the air was still and cold, the dusty smell of the stonework strong in their nostrils. As Sanchez reached for the sacking covering the skull Katherine said, ‘Wait!’ Sanchez and Drake looked at her in surprise. She grinned sheepishly. ‘When you lift that sacking, concentrate. It seemed to me before that the air changed a little last time you revealed the skull.’ She looked at Thomas. ‘Do you remember you said it was like the static in the air before a storm?’

  Thomas nodded. ‘Yes. Go ahead,’ he said to Sanchez.

  They all stared hard at the sacking as Sanchez lifted it. As soon as the skull was revealed Katherine felt that charge in the air again, the atmosphere of the little room becoming thicker. ‘There,’ she said quietly, ‘do you feel it?’

  Thomas nodded, but Sanchez merely shrugged, hooking the hessian up out of the way. ‘It could all be psychological, of course,’ he said.

  Katherine smiled. ‘Of course, it could. Thomas, go ahead and touch it.’

  Thomas approached the small opening, crouching before it. ‘Why do I feel like a laboratory rat?’ he muttered.

  ‘Just touch it, you big baby!’ Katherine said, laughing.

  Thomas took a deep breath, reached out his hand. Like Katherine had done the first time, he gently laid one palm along the side of the skull. He concentrated for a minute, his hand gently stroking the skull. Then with a sigh, he pulled away his hand and stood up.

  Katherine looked crestfallen. ‘Nothing?’

  Thomas shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t say nothing, my dear, but not anything that I can put my finger on. Certainly nothing like you described. It’s certainly more than simply a finely carved ornament, but I can offer you no logical reason for saying that.’

  Katherine nodded. ‘That’s a shame.’

  ‘Why don’t you try it again?’ Thomas asked.

  Katherine looked at him for a moment. ‘Why?’

  ‘Perhaps if you touch the skull again, but try to concentrate this time, try to draw something out of it, maybe you’ll get a more coherent result.’

  ‘But I don’t actually believe in all this sort of thing!’ Katherine exclaimed.

  Thomas laughed. ‘Ah, my dear, that makes you the best person to try it out, don’t you see? Go on, have another go.’

  Katherine looked from Thomas to Sanchez then back again. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll have another go, but I’m sure nothing will happen. I must have been imagining it before.’

  She crouched, as Thomas had done. Slowly, carefully, she reached out both hands and placed them either side of the skull. She inadvertently gritted her teeth as the rush of voices filled her head once more. As the colours began to swim before her eyes, she tried to concentrate, tried to focus on the colours, see what was there. Slowly an image began to emerge from the maelstrom, dark green at first, coalescing into deep jungle. She could see a figure in the jungle, crouching among the trees as she now crouched in the little underground room. The figure was a man, dark, greasy hair, dark, mean eyes. The more she saw of him the more she was filled with a sense of dread so overpowering that she didn’t realise she was crying out loud until Thomas and Sanchez pulled her hands from the skull, one on either side of her.

  She collapsed backwards, her head swimming dangerously, making her feel nauseous. The men sat her on the floor, each one still holding a hand. ‘Are you all right, my dear?’ Thomas asked. His concerned voice sounded as though it was miles away.

  Katherine took a deep breath, her head beginning to clear. She realised she was trembling all over. ‘Yes,’ she said, her voice sounding a little strained. She cleared her throat. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’ Her voice sounded stronger this time.

  Sanchez was squatting before her, his face concerned. ‘What happened?’

  Katherine shook her head. ‘I don’t know. When I touched the skull I heard the voices again, I saw the colours, so I tried to concentrate on what I could see. Then I saw a man hiding in the jungle and just looking at him scared the hell out of me.’

  A voice with a heavy Spanish accent startled them. ‘You should be careful with things you don’t understand.’

  An old man stood behind them, his face deeply lined, his shiny black eyes almost lost in its folds. None of them had heard him come in.

  ‘This is one of our best workers,’ Sanchez said. ‘He’s a village elder, very powerful among his people.’

  The old man smiled. ‘What he means is that in your language I am a shaman, or maybe you would call me a witch doctor.’

  Thomas cleared his throat, shaking off the shock of the old man’s appearance. ‘What do you mean that we should be careful?’ he asked.

  The old man looked directly at Katherine, ignoring both Thomas and Sanchez. ‘It is your destiny that you see, young lady. You are attuned to such things as this relic and it shows you your future. Yet it also scares you because you don’t know how to use it. It is beyond your ability. Therefore, be careful with things you don’t understand.’ With that he turned and climbed the stairs back up from the little room.

  Katherine looked at Sanchez, her eyebrows raised high. Sanchez shrugged. ‘I must apologise, my dear. That man is a law unto himself, yet he is a most diligent worker. He has a lot of power over the other villagers due to his authority within their hierarchy.’

  Katherine looked back to where the old man had stood. ‘You said he’s a village elder, yet one of your best workers?’

  Sanchez nodded. ‘Yes. He may be
one of the most respected members of his society but what he needs more than anything else, just like all his people, is food to eat and clothes to wear. The best way to get those things is with a handful of American dollars.’

  ‘That doesn’t seem right, does it,’ said Thomas ruefully.

  Sanchez shrugged. ‘Of course not, but when the great American dollar calls, the teenagers to the old, the village idiot to the village elder, they’ll all get down on their knees in the dirt.’

  Katherine stared hard at the skull. Eventually she said, ‘Well whatever he really is he’s got a very powerful presence and a scary way of talking. Let’s get out of here. I’m finding it increasingly hard not to believe in all this superstitious nonsense.’

  Drake chuckled. ‘Nice try, my dear, but that really wasn’t very convincing!’

  Katherine turned to him, her eyes hard. ‘Do you believe there is something supernatural happening here?’

  ‘I think there is something happening that is affecting you rather more than myself or Pedro. Why that is I don’t know, but it can’t be discounted.’

  Katherine shrugged. ‘I don’t know if it isn’t just the wine and the dark rooms playing with my mind. Come on, I need some fresh air. Besides, I haven’t been bitten by a mosquito in at least fifteen minutes!’

  Outside in the warm night Katherine took several deep breaths, her body beginning to equalise again. ‘Well, gentlemen,’ she said. ‘I think I hear the reassuringly technological call of my laptop. I should go and start putting my story together. I’ll see you both in the morning.’

  Drake and Sanchez both inclined their heads. ‘Try not to ponder too long on tonight’s events, my dear,’ Drake said. ‘I’m sure everything will seem less unusual by the light of day.’

  Katherine smiled. ‘Of course. Goodnight, gentlemen.’ She headed towards her hut, her mind replaying the night’s events. Was it just the wine? Or tiredness perhaps? She could not bring herself to believe in ancient relics with magical properties. But there was a lot of evidence forcing her to look beyond her normal explanations.