"So the paintings are some kind of defacement?"
"I don't know,” Veronica said. “I'm seeing a lot of repetitive symbols, both in the carvings and in the paintings. If the cultures are separate, they are similar. Possibly the succeeding culture incorporated elements of the predecessor."
"I do not see any repetitions,” Sanji said, sounding like an excited schoolboy. “Show me."
"Look here,” Veronica said. “See this carving of this round creature with all the tentacles? It's obviously some sort of a god or deity representation. If you look around, you'll see them everywhere."
Sanji's face lit up with recognition. “Oh, yes! I have been seeing that image in other places around the cave. I have been running from one side to the other like a silly tourist, but I have seen it."
"Take a few steps back with me,” Veronica said. They walked backwards, still facing the wall. As they backed up, a larger image started to dominate their vision. It was large, almost fifteen feet high and a bit longer across. Bold black outlines framed brilliantly bright reds, oranges, and yellows. The picture's angry vibrance resonated despite its primitive quality.
Sanji's face showed confusion, then sudden understanding as the image blended into a cohesive pattern. Dark orange covered the circular body while reds and yellows dominated the extended arms. At least she guessed they were arms. Or tentacles, or some equivalent.
"Their god again?” Sanji asked.
"That would be my guess,” Veronica said. “Or at least it's one of their gods. The barbarians may have incorporated elements of Chaltelian religions, but who knows?"
She knew some piece of information was missing. Something that could make sense of all this. The missing pieces bothered her in a way she couldn't identify. She wondered if it was the dank feeling of dread permeating the place that haunted the edges of her mind. It was the same feeling she'd felt on the surface, but down here it was almost overpowering.
Sanji walked away to another image that caught his interest. Veronica continued to stare up at the large tentacle god. If that's what it was, a god, then she could understand the tribe's violent, brutal nature. The image on the wall reeked with anger and aggression. If it was a god in the pantheon of these lost people, than it had to be a god of war.
Or, perhaps, a god of evil.
Connell held the sign in his shaking hands. Fury swept over him, clouding his mind. Anger this strong, this pure, rarely came his way. Only once before could he remember feeling this utterly enraged — when he'd learned his wife's murderer had been exceedingly drunk.
The sign was simple; a small, thin piece of plywood little bigger than a sheet of typing paper. A stake pointed out the bottom. Painted on the sign was a curved, cartoon head of a little man, his nose peeking over a line that hid the rest of his body. His fingers also hung over that line. Two expressionless black dots represented eyes. A simple message adorned the back of the sign.
Kilroy was here.
"Where did you find this?” Connell said through clenched teeth. He kept his voice down, so as not to draw the attention of Veronica and Sanji. They were exploring the Picture Cavern, the tall Lashon close by, looking everywhere for any sign of danger.
"Lybrand found it dead center in the middle of the Picture Cavern,” O'Doyle said. “It was wedged into a crack in the rock floor."
"Did anyone else see it?"
"Only Mack. Lybrand immediately brought it to me and I stashed it away."
"Is there any chance that one of the others put it there before she and Mack arrived?"
"Of course it's a possibility, sir, but I doubt it. She walked point and was the first one in the Picture Cavern. She's armed and kept everyone else behind her, including Mack."
"Could Jansson have put this here?"
O'Doyle mulled over the question. “I suppose he could have, but according to Angus's map none of the tunnels from the chasm lead to the Picture Cavern. Besides, he couldn't have brought the sign with him, or Mack would have seen it. There's not exactly any hiding space in these suits."
Connell looked at his own bright-yellow, form-fitting KoolSuit. The things clung so tight you could tell a man's religion. He glanced back at O'Doyle, who looked like a muscle-bulging superhero in the tight yellow outfit, the Hulk with a beer belly. Jansson couldn't have slipped the sign past Mack. Someone else beat EarthCore into the caverns, and that someone was a smart ass who wanted Connell to know he'd been beat.
Kilroy was here.
"This sign rings a bell,” Connell said. “Do you know what it means?"
"Allied forces, especially U.S. forces, saw that image all over Europe as they liberated the continent from the Nazis in World War Two. No one ever found out who was responsible. Forward allied forces pushed back the Germans, and many times this sign would be waiting. Someone was so bent on being a joker they actually crept across enemy lines and painted graffiti."
O'Doyle looked over his shoulder, making sure that no one was near. “I've got something else.” He reached into an ammo pouch and pulled out a small, pale object.
At first glance Connell thought it was a stone or a piece of hard, dried food. Then in an instant he recognized the object. He managed to keep an expression of neutrality despite his revulsion.
Although it was dried as if it had been dropped into a dehydrator, there was no mistaking a severed human thumb.
The nail looked remarkably undamaged. Just behind the nail, however, where the first knuckle starts, the thumb stopped. Dirt, sand, and even one small pebble stuck to the stump. A thin piece of bone protruded past the flesh, a dull white in the poor lighting of the cavern.
"Where did you find this?” Connell hissed.
"Down in the chasm where Jansson turned up missing.” O'Doyle's fingers flexed on the handle of his H&K. “I think it was cut off during a struggle. Someone bagged Jansson, then removed his body."
"We have to get everyone to the surface,” Connell said, striving to keep his voice calm. “Why on earth did you let everyone come down here?"
"We needed people to help find Jansson,” O'Doyle said, eyes flitting up one end of the cavern and down the next. “Besides, you said it was urgent we continue toward the Dense Mass. Don't worry, Mr. Kirkland. We have plenty of firepower down here, and Lybrand is under specific instructions not to let the miners out of her sight."
Connell stared at O'Doyle with a sudden, sinking feeling. The man wanted to shoot something. Anything. Anything that could have remotely been responsible for this action. O'Doyle wanted that enemy to show itself.
"Mr. O'Doyle, where are all of our people? How far are they from the elevator?"
"Lybrand, Mack, and the six fresh miners are exploring the tunnels around the chasm,” O'Doyle said in his rapid-fire military tone. “I'd say they're about twenty-five minutes away from the elevator. The five remaining miners from Mack's morning crew are probably already there, waiting to head up. You, me, Lashon and the professors are the only ones in the Picture Cavern. Except for Jansson, all crew are present and accounted for."
Connell quickly did the math. The Picture Cavern was forty-five minutes from the elevator shaft, Mack's party was closer to the shaft, only twenty-five minutes away. Mack's crew could get back and head up, then send the elevator back down just about the time Connell and the others reached the shaft. From there it would still be a twenty-minute wait. But if there was some danger, at least Mack's party would get back to the surface.
"Get everyone back to the elevator,” Connell said. “And do it now. I want all of our people back immediately."