Excavation

Henry shook his head, again it was a jittering movement, but the words flowed smoothly through the receiver. “We were correct in judging the mummy as non-Inca,” he began, “but unfortunately, it was European.”

“What?” Sam’s shock was shared by the others.

Henry held up a wavering hand. “As near as I can tell, he was a Dominican priest, probably a friar.”

Maggie leaned toward the microphone. “And the Incas mummified one of their hated enemies—a priest of a foreign god?”

“I know. Strange. I plan to do a little research here and see if I can trace this friar’s history before returning. It’s not what I wanted to prove, but it is still intriguing.”

“Especially in the light of our discovery here,” Sam added.

“What do you mean?” Henry asked.

Sam explained about their discovery of the sealed door and the Latin inscriptions.

Henry was nodding by the end of Sam’s description. “So the conquistadors truly did find the village. Damn.” Henry slowly took off his glasses and rubbed at the small indentations on his nose. His next words seemed more like he was thinking aloud. “But what happened here five hundred years ago? The answer must lie behind that door.”

Sam could almost hear the gears whirring in his uncle’s mind.

Philip grabbed the mike. “Should we open the door tomorrow?”

Sam interrupted before his uncle could answer. “Of course not. I think we should wait until Doc returns. If it’s a significant find, I think we’d need his expertise and experience to explore it.”

Philip’s face grew red. “I can handle anything we discover.”

“You couldn’t even handle—”

Henry interrupted, his voice stern and tight. “Mr. Sykes is right, Sam. Open the door tomorrow. Whatever lies hidden beyond the sealed portal may aid my research here in the States.” His uncle’s eyes traveled over the entire group. “And it is not just Philip I trust. I am counting on all of you to proceed as I’ve taught you—cautiously and meticulously.”

Even with these last words, Sam noticed the gloating expression on Philip’s face. The Harvard grad would be unbearable from there on out. Sam’s fingers gripped the table’s edge with anger. But he dare not question his uncle. It would sound so petty.

“Sam,” his uncle continued, “I’d like a few words in private.” Henry’s words were severe and scolding in tone. “The rest of you should hit your pillows. You’ve a long day tomorrow.”

Muttering arose from the others as they said their good-byes and shuffled off.

Henry’s voice followed them from the tent. “And good work, folks!”

Sam watched the others leave. Philip was last to slip out of the tent, but not before shining a tight smile of triumph on his lips. Sam’s right hand balled into a fist.

“Sam,” his uncle said softly, “are they all gone?”

Forcing his hand to relax, Sam faced his uncle again. “Yeah, Uncle Hank,” he said, dropping to a more familiar demeanor.

“I know Philip can rankle everyone. But he is also a smart kid. If Philip can grow to be half the archaeologist his father was, he’ll be a fine scholar. So cut him some slack.”

“If you say so…”

“I do.” Henry slid his chair closer to the computer. His shaky image grew on the screen. “Now as to the reason I wanted to speak to you in private. Though I voiced my support of Philip, I need you to be my eyes and ears tomorrow. You’ve had a lot more dig experience, and I’m counting on you to help guide Philip.”

Sam could not suppress a groan. “Uncle Hank, he’ll never listen. He already thinks he’s the big buck at the salt lick.”

“Find a way, Sam.” Henry replaced his eyeglasses, ending the matter. He stared silently at Sam as if weighing him. “If you are to be my eyes and ears, you’ll need to know everything I know, Sam. There are some items I’ve kept from the others. To properly evaluate what you discover tomorrow, you’ll need to be fully informed.”

Sam sat straighter. His irritation at Philip vanished in a single heartbeat. “What?”

“Two items. First, something odd happened to the mummy here at Johns Hopkins.” Henry explained about the explosion of the mummy’s skull and the brilliant golden discharge.

Sam’s eyebrows were high on his forehead. “Christ, Uncle Hank, what the hell happened?”

“The pathologist here hypothesized a possible burst of trapped methane from sudden thawing. But after four decades in the field, I’ve never seen its like before. And that discharge… Dr. Engel is researching what it is. I may know more in a few days, but until then, I want you to keep your eyes open. The mystery as to what occurred in this village five centuries ago may be answered when you open that door.”

“I’ll watch out for any clues and proceed with care, even if I have to force an iron bit and reins on Philip.”

His uncle laughed. “But remember, Sam, experienced riders know it’s best to control a willful horse with only the lightest touch on the reins. Let Philip think he is leader and all will go well.”

Sam frowned. “Still… why the secrecy, Uncle Hank?”

Henry sighed, a slight shake of his head. He suddenly seemed much older, his eyes tired. “In the world of research, secrets are important.” Henry glanced up at Sam. “Remember the looters. Even in the remote wilds of the Andes, a few loose lips drew the scavengers like flies to horse droppings. The same can occur in the research community. Loose lips can sink grants, fellowships, and tenures. It’s a hard lesson I don’t like teaching.”

“You can trust me.”

Henry smiled. “I know, Sam. I trust you completely. I would have been glad to share all I know with you, but I didn’t want to burden you with secrets. Not yet. You’ll find how it weighs on your heart when you can’t speak openly with your own colleagues. But matters now force me to shift my burden onto your shoulders. You must know the last piece of the puzzle, the reason I am sure an older tribe built this city.” Henry leaned closer to the screen. “I believe I may even know who it was.”

“What are you talking about? Who? This site has the Incas’ stamp all over it.”

His uncle held up a hand. “I know. I never disputed that the Incas eventually took over this site. But who was here before them? I’ve read tales, recorded oral histories spread from ancestor to ancestor, of how the first Incan king went to the sacred mountains and discovered a bride in a wondrous city. Returning with her, he started the Incan empire that would last hundreds of years. So even in their ancient tales, the Incas admit that a foreign tribe shared their roots. But who? It’s the mystery I’ve been investigating for decades. My research into this matter led to the discovery of these ruins. But the answer to the question—who built this city?–that I only discovered last month.”