Incarnate: Mars Origin I Series Book III

by Abby L. Vandiver

  Jairo had assured her that it was the Belize government that instigated this meeting, not her benefactor. From the brief exchange over the phone to set up the meeting, it appeared that they didn’t think too highly of her, or at the very least didn’t trust her. Logan thought that that belief may stem from them not being too keen on her - being young and inexperienced - leading the dig.

  Or maybe they thought she had found something and was keeping it from them.

  Maybe they knew that she had.

  She didn’t know exactly what it was that they wanted from her – she shook off the thought that they knew about the stone slab. She wasn’t trying to keep it for herself. She didn’t even know why she kept it secret – well other than her gut feeling.

  Am I even experienced enough to have those kinds of feelings and they really mean something? She drew in a deep breath. Probably not.

  There wasn’t any history of unusual finds in Belize – just yet undiscovered ones. Each dig had uncovered the usual suspects – pyramids, temples, stelae. So what could be the problem?

  Yes. Jairo was right. She felt confident that it wasn’t her benefactor that was the reason for the visit. Whomever he was, her benefactor, she thought, must be a kind person. Rich. Scientific. Philanthropic. And an up close, personal friends with the federal government.

  The Assistant Director of the Belize Institute of Archaeology, on the other hand, appeared to be an “a” hole.

  And unable to tell time.

  The Assistant Director arrived an hour early. His car came careening into the site and practically rammed into the mess tent sending the people milling around outside of it scattering. His car knocked over a table and a few collapsible chairs. People hopped over tables, fell over equipment, shrieking as they pushed at each other trying to scramble out of the way of the brown Toyota Corolla.

  The occupant piled out of the car, pushing his stomach out first, followed by short stubby legs and arms. He was a greasy little man, Logan thought as she peered out the window of her trailer. He started shouting as soon as he emerged.

  “Dr. Dickerson.” He spoke with a creole accent, his voice gravely and his words came out with a snort. Once he found her, the caution and admitted fear she felt from him possibly knowing about the stone slab and what she had been doing was evident on her face. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.

  Logan went and sat on the other side of a table, facing the door as he came in. She kept her trembling hands hidden in her lap. Maps were spread out in front of her.

  “Logan. May I call you, Logan?” He spoke loudly, pushing his straw hat back on his head and wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

  “I wanted to come by and enforce on you Belize’s stance on protecting our country’s cultural heritage. I should have visited long ago but I’ve been very busy.” He cleared his throat. “My country has an agreement with yours. We don’t want anything like what recently happened at the El Pilar Archaeological site.” He pointed his thick, short finger at her. “No stealing of our national treasures.”

  ’I can assure you our people have been thoroughly vetted and no strangers are allowed on the site,” she said. “Whatever we find is safe.” She tried to force a smile. “I know the agreement between our governments.”

  “You have security?”

  “Yes we do. I’m surprised no one detained you, the way you stormed onto the site.” Logan said.

  “I am very important. And you know why?”

  “Uhmm,” her voice faltered, a hint of nervousness edging out. “No. I don’t.”

  “Because I protect Belize’s cultural and historical artifacts. I keep people from looting, pillaging and dealing in illegal trade of our antiquity. Some people like you are even afraid of me.” He glanced around the room “I hope you are not that type of person. One that tries to rob our people of their history. Because I have my own way of dealing with those kinds of people.” He stared at her. “What have you found so far?”

  “Some pottery. Some religious artifacts. Nothing significant or definitive.”

  At least nothing I’m going to tell you about, she thought. She might be afraid, but she wasn’t ready to give up what she had. Not yet.

  He put his hands around his back. His arms short and stubby, his fingers barely able to meet. He wiggled them to get them close enough to clasp together. He put his nose in the air and walked around surveying the small trailer.

  “So you’ve found nothing big? Nothing important?”

  “No.” Logan tried to speak as few words as possible to hide the trembling in her voice. “Nothing significant.”

  His eyes scanned the room intently. Then he glared at Logan for what seemed an eternity. Finally he left with a huff and she followed him out.

  “What’s going on?” Logan spoke to the group at the mess tent, but kept her eye on the Assistant Director as he wriggled his way back into his car. The botanist sitting in one of the chairs had her leg propped up, and was bent forward holding her knee. Sweat mixed with tears was running down her face.

  “We think her leg is broken,” one of the volunteers spoke.

  “Did the car hit her?”

  “No,” the botanist said. “But if it’s broken, that’s the reason,” she nodded her head toward the brown Toyota. “I was running to get out of the way and my leg got tangled up with the leg of the table.”

  The fear Logan had felt when the Assistant Director entered the trailer was not one grounded in apprehension of physical harm, although she was sure he was capable of that. But it was because she wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to hide behind her façade. She didn’t dare tell him about the stone slab. Especially now . . .

  She bit her bottom lip and tried to stop her hands from shaking.

  Especially now that her mother had translated the last line on the face of the stone. Her mother thought it was a message.

  It read: For they will come again.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The murals in San Bartolo that I found in the book about Bacabs didn’t reveal anything new about what we had translated or our stone slab. Still Logan stared at it for an hour. We did learn that the murals had first been found in 2001 and dated back from 100 BC making it older than the one in Logan’s observatory.

  Nothing more than interesting facts.

  The murals were interpreted by a well-known iconographer, so we knew would could rely on its interpretation. Unlike what we had translated, well the part I translated, which Logan seemed reluctant to believe.

  Especially since I decided the “they” in that sentence were the Ancients.

  “How come your picture that’s like the mural we saw today isn’t in a museum, Logan?”

  “It’s carved into the wall of the observatory. Part of the structure. It’s been catalogued, though. A long time ago. You’ll see.”

  Logan was driving. She was pensive on the long drive back, those few sentences was about all she said. I sat next to her and Jairo in the back seat. He had been our constant companion since our run in in the jungle.

  We were on Western Highway headed to Caracol from our little road trip that tuned out no to be so “little.” It was an eleven hour trip and with leaving after we toured the murals we wouldn’t get back until dark, which was fine with Logan. Instead of taking me back to my hotel in Tikal, we were going to her dig site so I could see the picture in the observatory. The dark was good she had said because she didn’t want anyone to see me.

  I had picked up a bunch of brochures while we were there and I tried to read over them on the drive back. But Jairo was making up for Logan’s silence and I couldn’t concentrate long enough to read a paragraph.

  He talked nonstop and was so animated the whole way back. I don’t know where he got the energy. He talked about Guatemala and the Maya on our ride back until we crossed over into Belize, then he talked about Belize and the Maya.

  So, since I couldn’t read the brochures, I decided to see what he knew about what was inside of them.r />
  “Jairo, this brochure says that the mural we saw has been interpreted to suggest that the maize god scenes refer to Gulf Coast myths.”

  “Yes. I saw that.”

  “Do you know what that is?”

  He took in a breath. “It is believed that the Maya traveled to Georgia and assimilated into what is known as the Creek Indians.”

  “Really? Maya in the United States. I never heard of it before. Logan, did you know that?” She shook her head.

  “It’s strange though.” Jairo continued, “because evidence of the Maya only show up in the one place. No settlements on the way. No remnants or evidence of them along a trail from Central America to Georgia. So then you ask: How they got to that place without leaving a trail?”

  “Maybe they flew in those little golden, aerodynamically correct airplanes you told me about.”

  He laughed.

  Caracol was reportedly one of the most challenging ruins to get to set amidst hilly forested terrain. The entire city is comprised of the ruins. So no modern day streetlights to guide us through the pitch black night once we finally arrived.

  The ride in was bumpy and I was all rattled by the time we got to the site. Logan had us stay in the car while she fetched us each a hand-held searchlight.

  When our lights hit the site, memories came flooding back.

  “Logan, you remember when you were little and I used to take you, Micah and Courtney on digs with me? Who’d a thought we’d ever be doing this again.”

  “Shh!” Was all I got from her until we reached the observatory. We crisscrossed over stringed-off grid lines and around mounds of dirt and cut across the grassy field that led to the structure. “Watch your step, Ma. Lots of stuff on these stairs. Easy to fall, especially in the dark,” she whispered.

  I scanned my light up the stone staircase to the observatory. “I can’t walk up all those steps,” I said in a normal voice.

  “Shh!” She tugged my arm. “You have to,” she said and started climbing. Jairo stood next to me, apparently not going if I wasn’t.

  “C’mon,” her strained voice came back down to us.

  I cast the light over the stairs again. And then on Logan as she made her way up. I could just picture myself sprawled out across the steps half way up, clutching my chest, having a heart attack.

  This was worse than climbing into the caves at Qumran.

  “Oh my God,” I tied to keep my voice down. “Can’t you just take a picture and show it to me?” I said to her.

  “No you have to see it. And stop talking so loud.”

  I wonder what she’ll say when I scream bloody murder as I keel over.

  “I don’t know. Logan, this is too much for me,” I said as I started up the steps. “This is going to take me all night.”

  I think it must have taken me an half hour to reach the top.

  “”Here it is. Look, Ma.” She shone the light on the wall. “Just like the one we saw today.”

  I was leaning on the door to the observatory, trying to catch my breath. I had finally made it up the million steps to the observatory. Jairo and Logan had practically pushed me up the last twenty.

  “Gimme a second.” I took in a couple of deep breaths and did the best I could at standing upright. “Okay. Show me.”

  It looked just like the one in the book. And like the one in San Bartolo. Why I had to climb all those steps to see this one was beyond me.

  A shaky, “Mmm hmmm,” was all I could say.

  “What do you think?” She asked me.

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s nice,” I said. I hope she didn’t catch the antipathy in my voice.

  “Nice? Do you think it’s a clue?”

  “A clue?” I sucked in a deep breath. I was still winded. “To what?”

  “Follow the corn. The translation. Ma, don’t do this to me. I have the Assistant Director on my tail and I gotta figure this out before I get into trouble.”

  “I don’t know. Let me think about it.”

  “For how long, Ma.”

  “I don’t know. You know things just come to me. They hit me all of a sudden.”

  “So, you’ll think about it?”

  “Yep. Take some pictures of it. I’m going sit down before we head back. I can’t catch my breath.”

  “Well, don’t have a heart attack, I’d never be able to carry you back down those steps.”

  She’s such a sweet and caring child.

  I sat on the steps. It was so dark out and we were so high up. Not really keen on heights, I was starting to feel dizzy.

  I put two fingers over the pulse in my wrist. Felt normal. O inhaled and held it. Then I exhaled. I flashed my light down the steps. Not looking forward to that. Then I flashed it out across the expanse. Yep we were high up, I could see over the top of the trees. I let my light land on the observatory behind me. With its rounded roof, it looked just like one from modern day. All it needed was a telescope. I shut off my light and listened to the sounds of the night.

  I heard Jairo come out first.

  “Justin, are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I think so. Still a little shaky. But, I’m good. We ready to go?”

  “Yes, Mother,” I heard Logan as she came out of the observatory. “We’re ready to go. C’mon old lady.” She pulled on my arm and helped me stand up. Letting me go, she headed down the steps on the side where we had ascended. Jairo walked down two or three steps in front of me. Turned sideways, he put his hand out to protect me from falling.

  “Ma, walk on this side.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “This side has less rubble. Trust me, I walk here every day. You’ll trip over there.”

  Why did she say that?

  I tripped. And I started sliding down steps. Jairo was trying to catch me and I was trying to hold on to him and the steps, but all I was doing was pulling up stones. I scratched my arms and face on the stones and then one leg went over the side as did my searchlight. The inside of my thigh scraped across the stones as I descended. I couldn’t stop, and I was picking up momentum it seemed.

  “Ma!” Logan dropped her light and scrambled over to me in the dark.

  I just knew I was going to go over. “Logan!” I was grasping at the stones that made up the steps.

  “Jairo. Catch her,” Logan screamed the words.

  He’d been running alongside of me, trying to grab a leg or an arm. After Logan yelled at him he threw himself on top of me and his weight stopped my roll. It stopped me but not the rocks. They pounded us and I let out a screech.

  “Oh my God, Mommy. Are you okay. Oh my God. Jairo, I thought you had her? I told you to walk on the other side.” She stooped down next to me. “Are you okay?”

  My hands were shaking. I felt gravel in my skin and warm blood trickling down the side of my face. I had had my eyes closed, and thought my tumble may have caused blindness when I opened up my eyes and couldn’t see a thing.

  Logan got up, retrieved her flashlight and shined it on me. “Can you get up?” she asked.

  “Uhh. Not with Jairo on top of me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Logan pulled a pair of pants out of the top drawer of the dresser, and bumped it shut with her hip.

  “You have to see this,” she said, excitement exuding from every pore. She grabbed a shirt off the rack by the door, pulled it off the hanger and tossed both to me.

  “Put these on.” She dug in my overnight bag for shoes. “Where are your shoes?” I pointed to a corner of the room.

  “So, it was such a mess where you fell that I couldn’t leave it. Someone would notice. You know?”

  I was trying to lift myself out of the bed. “Do I have to go?”

  “Yes. You have to go.” She pointed. “Get in the bathroom and get yourself together.”

  “I’m not climbing up any steps.”

  You won’t have to.”

  I shuffled off, holding my back and trying not to let the one thigh rub against the one I had scraped.r />
  I hadn’t seen Logan in two days. Which was fine with me because I spent every moment of it tucked under the covers trying to heal from my fall. She called all day every day to check on me, but Room Service fed me, Advil soothed me, and Guatemalan cablevision kept me company. I had been happy.

  “So like I was saying, there were stones that were out of place, where you pulled them out.”

  “I fell. I was trying to grab hold of them to stop my fall.”

  “And underneath there was this . . . I don’t know – like hook, for lack of a better word. It went to like this trap door.” She was making gestures with her hands. “I guess no one ever saw it because when a site is excavated you try to keep everything intact. You know. Uncover from the top down. Not tear out the steps.”

  “I fell.”

  “Anyway. I had Jairo shimmy down-”

  “How is Jairo?”

  “Mom, are you listening to me?”

  “Yeah, I just asked -”

  “He’s fine. He’s been trying to get here to see you.” She peeked her head in the bathroom. “Seriously, do I need to call my father?”

  I laughed, and with a mouth full of toothpaste, said, “He’s already sending Micah down here.”

  “For what?

  “To see why you’re trying to kill me.”

  She sucked her tongue. “Anyway. Listen.” She leaned against the door jam. “So we were thinking he was going to run into a wall – a dead end. And guess what he found?”

  I stepped into the shower. “What?”

  “Can you hear me?”

  “I said, ‘What.’”

  “A tunnel! Can you believe it?”

  “No. I can’t believe it.” I really didn’t find it all that surprising. There were always tunnels under pyramids in Egypt.”

  “No one’s ever found a tunnel here before. They always thought the Maya used the caves.”

  “Caves?” I stuck my head out the shower.

  “Yeah. It’s always been known that the Maya were big on nature. They’d build structures like the observatory based on the alignment of the stars. Their calendar based on agriculture -.”