I looked at my copy. Hills were indicated but there was no scale to tell how high they were. Scattered over the hills were crude representations of buildings. I remembered that Vivero had said in his letter that the city was built on a ridge lying east and west.
Halstead said, 'The layout looks like a mixture of Chichen Itza and Coba -- but it's bigger than either. A lot bigger.'
There's the cenote,' said Fallon. 'So this place would be the temple of Yum Chac -- if Vivero is to be believed. I wonder which is the king's palace?' He turned and grasped a large cardboard tube from which he took a map. 'I've spent a lot of time on this map,' he said. 'A lifetime.'
He unrolled it and spread it on the desk, weighing down the corners with books. 'Everything the Mayas ever built is marked here. Do you notice anything odd about it, Wheale?'
I contemplated the map and said at last, 'It looks crowded in the south.'
That's the Peten -- but that was the Old Empire which collapsed in the eleventh century. The Itzas moved in later -- new blood which gave the Mayas a shot in the arm like a transfusion. They reoccupied some of the old cities like Chichen Itza and Coba, and they built some new ones like Mayapan. Forget the south; concentrate on the Yucatan Peninsula itself. What looks funny about it?' This blank space on the west. Why didn't they build there?'
'Who says they didn't?' asked Fallon. That's the Quintana Roo. The local inhabitants have a rooted objection to archeologists.' He tapped the map. 'They killed an archeologist here, and built his skeleton into a wall facing the sea as a sort of decoration -- and as a warning to others.' He grinned. 'Still want to come along?'
The grey little man inside me made a frightened squawk but I grinned back at him. 'I'll go where you go.'
He nodded. 'That was a while ago. The indios sublevados have shot their bolt. But it's still not a pleasure trip. The inhabitants tend to be hostile -- both the chicleros and the Chan Santa Rosa Indians; and the land itself is worse. That's the reason for this big blank space -- and Uaxuanoc is plumb in the middle.'
He bent over the map, and compared it with the print. 'I'd put it about there -- give or take twenty miles. Vivero didn't have the benefit of a trigonometric survey when he did this scrawl; we can't rely on it too much.'
Halstead shook his head. 'It's going to be one hell of a job.' He looked up and found me smiling. I couldn't see what was going to be difficult about it. I'd been browsing through Fallon's library and studying the pictures of Mayan cities; there were pyramids the size of the Washington Pentagon, and I didn't see how you could miss seeing one of those.
Halstead said coldly, Take a circle twenty miles across -- that's over three hundred square miles to search. You can walk within ten feet of a Mayan structure and not see it.' His lips drew back in a humourless smile. 'You can even be walking on it and not know it. You'll learn.'
I shrugged and let it pass. I didn't believe it was as bad as that.
Fallon said worriedly, 'What I don't know is why this man Gatt should be so interested. I can't see any conceivable motive for his interference.'
I regarded Fallon in astonished silence, then said, The gold, of course! Gatt is a treasure hunter.'
Fallon had a baffled look on his face. 'What gold?' he said dimly.
It was my turn to be baffled. 'You've read the Vivero letter, damn it! Doesn't he describe the king's palace as being plated with gold? Doesn't he go on and on about gold? He even mentions a mountain of gold!'
Halstead gave a shout of laughter and Fallon looked at me as though I had gone out of my mind. 'Where would the Mayas get the gold to cover a building?' he demanded. 'Use a bit of common sense, Wheale.'
For a moment I thought I had gone crazy. Halstead was laughing his head off and Fallon was looking at me with an air of concern. I turned to Harris who spread his hands and shrugged elaborately. 'It beats me,' he said.
Halstead was still struggling to contain himself. It was the first time I'd seen him genuinely amused at anything. 'I don't see what's funny,' I said acidly.
'Don't you?' he said, and wiped his eyes. He broke into chuckles. 'It's the funniest thing I've heard in years. Tell him, Fallon.'
'Do you really think Uaxuanoc is dripping in gold -- or that it ever was?' Fallon asked. He too was smiling as though an infection had spread to him from Halstead.
I began to get angry. 'Vivero said so, didn't he?' I picked up the prints and thrust them under Fallon's nose. 'You believe in these, don't you? Vivero placed cities where you know there are cities, so you believe him that far. What's so bloody funny about the rest of his story?'
'Vivero was the biggest liar in the western hemisphere,' said Fallon. He looked at me in wonder. 'I thought you knew, I told you he was a liar. You've heard us discussing it.'
I told myself to relax, and said slowly, 'Would you mind spelling it out again in words of one syllable?' I glanced at Harris who, by his expression, was as puzzled as I was. 'I'm sure that Mr. Harris would like to be let in on the joke, too.'
'Oh, I see,' said Fallon. 'You really took the Vivero letter at its face value.' Halstead again broke into laughter; I was getting pretty tired of that.
Fallon said. 'Let's take one or two points in the letter. He said the de Viveros were of ancient lineage and had been hammered by the Moors so that the family fortunes were lost. He was a goddamn liar. His father was a goldsmith -- that's true enough -- but his grandfather was a peasant who came from a long line of peasants -- of nobodies. His father's name was Vivero, and it was Manuel himself who added on the aristocratic prefix and changed it to de Vivero. He did that in Mexico -- he would never have got away with it in Spain. By the time Murville visited the Mexican branch of the family the myth had really taken hold. That's why he wouldn't believe that a de Vivero had actually made the tray.' .
'So he was a liar on that point. Lots of people lie about themselves and their families. But how do you know he was lying about the gold? And why should he spin a yarn like that?'
'All the gold the Mayas ever had was imported,' said Fallon. 'It came from Mexico, from Panama and from the
