The Mayan Secrets - Cussler Clive (читать бесплатно полные книги TXT) 📗

“This is amazing,” Caine said. “The page is a kind of stylized map, a set of directions. It says it leads from Copan to the Motagua River Valley, which is in Guatemala. See this glyph? It’s ya’ax chich, the Mayan term for ‘jade.’”

“Are those people with the baskets going to find jade?” asked Remi.

“More likely, to trade for it,” said Caine. “Yes, it’s trade. They’re bringing valuable jungle products — bird feathers, jaguar skins, coca — to trade for jade.”

Selma said, “Jadeite was the most valuable substance in the Americas. The only known sources are Burma, Russia, and the Motagua Valley. This appears to show where that is.”

Caine said, “After the Spanish came, the Mayans stopped going there and never told the Spanish where the jade came from. The Spanish wanted only gold and silver, so the location was forgotten. It was quite a mystery for a long time. Then, in 1952, a hurricane passed over the Motagua Valley, and chunks of jade the size of cars washed out of the hillsides.”

Sam said, “Then, until 1952, what we’re looking at would have been a secret?”

“Absolutely,” said Caine. “To the Mayans, a very important secret.”

“And this is only the first page,” said Remi.

As Caine turned the pages carefully, they stared in amazement. There were paintings of gods and heroes engaged in epic stories of creation and the end of eras. There was a factual account of the warfare between Tikal and Calakmul in which Copan backed Tikal. Caine deciphered and translated only enough of each set of glyphs to determine its subject.

After about thirty pages, Caine turned a page to see a partial picture. Since the book was folded like an accordion, he could unfold two pages, lay them flat, and unfold two more to make one four-page display. There were paintings of forests, lakes, mountains. And all over the display were tiny pictures of Mayan buildings.

Sam said, “It looks like a map.” He pointed at a shape jutting out into water. “That looks like the Yucatan Peninsula.”

There were some buildings on the page that looked bigger than the others. “What would that be?” asked Sam.

“The glyphs say that’s Chichen Itza,” said Caine. “This on the coast is Zama, the ancient name of Tulum. Down here is Altun Ha, so this section is Belize. Here in Guatemala is Tikal. There’s Palenque in Mexico.”

“Are these all places you know?” asked Remi.

“Quite a few of them are — Bonampak, Xlapak, Copan. But there are many more names here. There are a number that I’ve never seen before. The current estimate is that about sixty percent of Mayan cities are known and mapped — over a hundred of them. But this shows — what? At least three hundred of the large buildings that seem to be cities? I can see many I’ve never heard of. And there are lots of other sites that seem to be smaller cities. I’ll have to compare them with the current inventory of sites.”

Caine looked at his watch. “Oh. I can’t believe we’ve been at this for five hours. I have to get back to my office to pick up some things and then get home to start going over the existing sites to see what’s not included. Can we take up where we left off tomorrow?”

“Sure,” said Remi.

“I can get here around noon. My classes are all morning seminars tomorrow.”

“We’ll see you then,” said Sam. Remi, Sam, and Zoltan walked Dr. Caine to the door and then watched him drive off.

Chapter 8

At ten the next morning, Sam and Remi were sitting together on the first floor, working at their computers, to try to learn more about various aspects of Mayan civilization. While he was thinking about something he’d read, Sam’s eyes moved off the screen to Remi. She wore a jade green linen-and-silk dress that set off her eyes and her hair and a pair of Manolo Blahnik sandals in bone leather. Zoltan lay at Remi’s feet, looking contented. But suddenly the big dog let out a low growl, got up, walked through the house to the big double doors at the front, and stood, watching them expectantly. Remi stood up and followed him, glancing out the window on the way.

“Sam,” she called, “we’ve got visitors.”

“Oh?” he said. “Did Dave Caine come early?”

“It’s some people in a black limo.” Sam stood and was walking toward the doors when the doorbell rang.

Remi answered the door. “Hello,” she said. “Can I help you?”

It was a woman, accompanied by three men in dark suits. The woman was very attractive, with deep blue eyes and golden blond hair pulled back into a perfect bun. She was expensively dressed in a blue suit. As she stepped forward and held out her hand, she spoke. “I’m Sarah Allersby, Mrs. Fargo. Remi, isn’t it?” Her British accent was distinctly upper class.

“Well, yes,” Remi said. “Is there something—?”

Sarah Allersby said, “Please, call me Sarah. And these gentlemen are my attorneys — Ronald Fyffe, Carlos Escobedo, and Jaime Salazar. May we come in?” Remi stepped back and shook each attorney’s hand as the four filed past her into the first floor of the house.

Sam was waiting just inside. “And I’m Sam Fargo,” he said. “May I ask what brings you here?”

“Charmed. I hope you don’t mind my taking the unusual step of dropping by like this, but it was unavoidable and urgent. I live in Guatemala City, but I happened to be in Los Angeles last night on another matter when I heard the news, and it was too late to call — long after business hours.”

“We’re not in business anymore,” Sam said.

“How lucky you are. I’m an amateur archaeologist and collector specializing in Central America, but I still have to attend to mundane responsibilities.”

“What news have you heard?” asked Remi.

“That your find at Volcan Tacana in Mexico included a precious jar from Copan.” She paused. “And also a Mayan codex.”

“Interesting,” Sam said, hiding his shock. “Where could you have heard that?”

She laughed softly. “If I told people about my confidential sources, they wouldn’t be confidential and they’d stop being my sources. They’d hate me.”

“And their sources would hate them,” said Sam.

“And so on,” she said. “It’s a whole ecosystem we have to protect.”

Remi could feel that an awkward moment was stretching into an ordeal, and something about the woman’s tone, or scent, was making Zoltan bristle. Remi petted his head to reassure him, and said to her, “Please come in and sit down.”

Sarah Allersby looked at her watch as she followed Remi into the large open sitting area on the first floor. Sam led the guests to the leather couches arranged around a large glass coffee table near the windows with a view of the Pacific.

“Drink?”

“Tea for all of us, I should guess,” said Sarah. The three lawyers didn’t look eager, but she clearly was enforcing her own rule that she always guessed right. Sam sensed that she wanted to get Remi out of the room and start talking business.

Remi walked off for a minute only. When she returned, she said, “Selma will bring it in when it’s ready.” Zoltan had followed her in. As she sat, Zoltan remained at her feet in a sphinxlike pose, his head erect and his ears straight up, his yellow-and-black eyes unblinking. Remi noticed it and scratched the back of his neck, but he remained as he was, his muscles ready to bring him up and into motion. Remi caught Sam’s eye.

Sam nodded slightly. He and Remi both knew that with these visitors, Zoltan was on guard. “This is Zoltan. Don’t let him make you uncomfortable. He’s very obedient.” He paused. “What can we do for you, Miss Allersby?”

“I came because I hope you won’t mind letting me see what you found on the volcano.” She smiled. “I mean the codex, of course.”

“We haven’t said there was a codex,” said Remi.

Sarah Allersby’s eyes moved to one of her attorneys, and Sam and Remi both caught a hint of irritation so fleeting that most people would have wondered if they’d imagined it. “I’ll be perfectly open,” she said. “Several different confidential sources have confirmed that what you have is, without question, a genuine codex.” She smiled and looked at Remi.