“Like a sinkhole?”
“Exactly. Water was an extremely precious commodity to the Mayans, and it became more so in the late classic period. You would think water would be plentiful on the floor of a jungle, but it isn’t. And after the Mayans had cut and burned miles of trees to clear fields for agriculture, the climate got hotter and drier. During the late period, many cities depended heavily on cenotes as a water source. We’ve even found man-made cisterns they dug and plastered at El Mirador that were imitation cenotes, with artificial streams leading to them for catching water.”
Sam said, “You want us to look for a pool of water?”
“Cenotes were more than that. They were doorways to the underworld. Chac, the god of rain and weather, lived down there, among other places. You have to understand that these were people who believed that what they did kept the universe operating correctly. If you wanted rain, you would throw sacrifices into a cenote where the gods would get them.”
“And this is the best site?”
“There are new cities on this map. Either they’re imaginary or lost, we don’t know which. But you can’t go down there with a huge crew and try to excavate or even map a city without months of preparation. And if you did, it would compromise the site and expose it to looters. A cenote can be hidden or overgrown, but it’s something you can verify without attracting too much attention. There. I’ve just given you all the reasons why it’s a good choice.”
Remi said, “I sense there are reasons why it’s not.”
“You’re right,” he said. “It’s near a vast piece of land owned by a foreign landlord. It’s called the Estancia Guerrero.”
“Sarah Allersby?” said Remi.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s an unfortunate coincidence. But anywhere in Guatemala, we would be on or near one of these big estates. They occupy hundreds of square miles, much of it uncultivated.”
“Maybe not so unfortunate,” said Sam. “While she’s trying to get her hands on the codex, she won’t be on her land, causing trouble for us.”
“I doubt that she spends much time on the land, in any case. She leads a very active social, political, and business life in Guatemala City.”
“Sounds good,” said Sam. “While we’re gone and you’re working on the codex, we’ll keep in touch. Selma and her assistants, Pete and Wendy, are ready to offer you as much help as you’d like. Selma you already know. Pete and Wendy are young, but both have plenty of history and archaeology experience.”
Caine looked down at the codex on the table. “Selma told me about the burglary.”
“It hardly deserves that name,” Sam said.
“I’m wondering if it’s safe to keep the codex here while you’re out of the country.”
“Do you have any better ideas?” asked Remi.
“I was wondering if you’d let me look into the possibility of keeping the codex on campus.”
“Normally, there wouldn’t be a problem with keeping it at our house,” said Remi. “But there’s still remodeling going on upstairs, with workmen coming and going all day, and now Sarah Allersby and her amateur burglars know where the codex is…” She paused. “Would the university be safer?”
“University campuses are full of valuable things — supercomputers, famous works of art, experimental devices of every kind,” said Caine. “Besides, the university has a few things you don’t — like a police force.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” said Sam. “Look into the possibility of locking it up on campus. If you find it’s practical, we’ll do it. If not, we can rent a joint safe-deposit box in a bank and you can work there.”
“Good,” said Caine. “I’ll talk to my dean and let you know. When can you leave for Guatemala?”
“Tomorrow,” said Sam. “We’d like to get there, verify the site, and get back here.”
“If you do, then maybe we can begin to organize a large team to find one of the big cities on the map this summer. I’d like you to consider joining that team. There’s nobody I’d rather have with me.”
“We’ll consider it,” said Remi, “after we finish our scouting mission.”
Sam and Remi spent the rest of the day preparing for their trip to Guatemala. They packed, arranged to have the proper scuba gear and wet suits waiting for them, and planned each step of the journey. In the midst of their preparations, Selma came in. “I’ve got the licenses you asked for.”
“What licenses?” asked Remi.
“For carrying concealed firearms in Guatemala. These are copies, but the originals will be waiting at your hotel in Guatemala City. It’s concealed carry only, by the way. Wearing a gun openly is frowned upon. I guess after their civil war, it’s intimidating.”
“Thanks, Selma,” said Remi.
“I’ve also transferred GPS maps of the Alta Verapaz region of Guatemala to your satellite phones. You should memorize the coordinates of the site because I didn’t want to program that in. I did include the numbers of the U.S. Embassy and consulate in Guatemala City and the local police. There has been a lot of crime in the area recently and sometimes Americans look like good people to kidnap for ransom.”
“We’ll be careful,” said Remi.
“Please do. Don’t take offense, but you two even look rich. I’m glad to see you’re packing the clothes you wore doing relief work in Mexico. Keep your equipment invisible.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” said Sam.
“One more thing,” Selma said. “Dave Caine says the university has assigned him a good place to work on the codex. There’s a real, full-scale safe in the library’s archival department and a spare room beside it, where he can work. When he’s done each day, he can lock the codex in the safe again.”
“That should do fine,” Sam said.
Remi said, “Now it’s our turn to tell
“That’s right,” said Sam. “If either of you is watched or followed, don’t go to the university. Drive to the police station.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Have a successful trip. Call frequently, and come back soon. I promise, Zoltan will think he’s on vacation.”
In twelve hours, Sam and Remi were on a flight heading toward Guatemala City.
Chapter 10
Sam and Remi disembarked in Guatemala City and went through customs. They were about to leave the airline terminal when Remi’s satellite phone rang. She answered, and said, “Hi, Selma. You must have tracked our plane.”
“Of course. We’ve found something amazing and I thought you should know.”
“What is it?”
“Do you remember a sort of lump inside the cover of the codex?”
“I do,” Remi said. “It’s sort of a rectangle shape. I figured it was a patch.”
“It’s a sheet of parchment, folded, and then placed under the outer layer and covered with the fig-bark fabric. David and I removed it two hours ago. It’s a letter, written in black ink, in Spanish. It says, ‘To all of my countrymen, blessings. This book and other books of the Mayan people concern their history and their observations about the natural world. They have nothing to do with the devil. They must be preserved as a way to understand our charges, the Mayan people.’”
“Who’s it from?” asked Remi.
“That’s the surprise. It’s signed ‘Fra Bartolome de Las Casas, Prior of Rabinal, Alta Verapaz.’”
“Las Casas?
“Yes — the man who convinced the Pope that Indians were rational beings with souls and had rights. He practically invented the idea of human rights. Dave Caine is beside himself with excitement.”
“Does the paper have a date on it?”
“Yes. January 23, 1537. We may not know everything about the codex yet, but this is the second verification
