“Thanks Byron. I think I’ll skip breakfast and wander over there now.”
“Suit yourself, and be sure you take care on that machine. Mr. Rodriguez told me under no uncertain terms that I’m to ensure your safety. He believes you alone can lead him to the Mahogany Ship.”
Sam laughed at that and then replied, “We’re still yet to see if he’s right.”
By ten a.m., Sam had traded his trusty Mercedes for a Robinson 22, and was in the air. It provided a unique view of the landscape, and he hoped that the solution to his problem would present itself when it was ready. He spent nearly six hours flying and refueled three times before he found what he was after — a river more than forty miles upstream, which fed into an underground cave. The entrance was by far too small for a ship to enter, but that didn’t mean that two hundred years ago it wasn’t large enough to fit the Mahogany Ship.
Sam landed next to it.
Looking at the steadily moving water, he threw more than a hundred plastic floating devices, no larger than a marble, into the river below. Each contained a small camera, transmitter, and were electronically numbered to match the name of the river. He continued this process until he reached another four rivers.
Back at the Mahogany Cavern, a wireless receiver waited for the information. It might take days, but he would have his answers.
Sam reached the entrance to the mine shaft by the early afternoon, landing right next to their sleeping tents. He switched off the mains, letting the rotary blades settle, and then stepped out of the helicopter.
Frank walked towards him, and asked, “How did you go?”
“Good,” Sam said as he grinned like the owner of a winning hand at cards. “And, I’m pretty certain I know where we’re going to find the Mahogany Ship.”
“What’s taking so long, Frank?” The pitch of his voice betrayed Rodriguez’s impatience. “This was supposed to be over two weeks ago — we have a timeline to keep!”
“There’s a lot of tunnels to explore, it’s going to take time, sir.”
“Yes, but couldn’t you give him a hint?”
“And risk him catching on? No way — he’s a bright man. He could ruin this whole thing if we try and rush him.” Frank coughed. Years of smoking left him with a perpetual chest infection. “He thinks he knows where she is.”
“Really, and is he right?”
“Yes, but it beats the hell out of me how he came up with it, after spending the day in the air, sightseeing in a helicopter.”
“Did he now? That’s interesting. Keep me informed.”
“I will Mr. Rodriguez.”
Chapter Eleven
Billie looked at the collection of images on her second laptop, unable to find exactly what she was after, swiped the screen to the left and began her search again. By the eighth one of these, she heard Tom’s annoyingly cheerful voice.
“You seemed pissed off about something,” he said.
“No, just unable to find what I’m looking for. For the most part, this tomb is precisely how I’d imagine it. But then, when I look closely, I discovered that something’s wrong.”
“Like the presence of the Master Builders?”
“Yes, but it’s more than that,” Billie said, enlarging an image of the room, taken from the floor. “Look at the picture. What do you see?”
Tom laughed, “I’m a helicopter pilot by trade, and an expert cave diver, but art was never one of my specialties.”
“That’s fine. All the more this will make sense to you. So, what do you see?”
“I see a turtle floating in an ocean, surrounded by thousands of stars, and a giant tree strangling the entire universe.”
It was Billie’s turn to laugh. “All right, an interesting interpretation. I see what you mean about art not being your strong point. All the same, you spotted what basically appears to be a number of Mayan depictions.”
“Really. Were they on drugs at the time?”
“No. The Mayan people pictured a universe consisting of heavens above and underworlds below, with the human world sandwiched between.” Billie enlarged a simplified diagram of the Mayan world. “The heavens consisted of 13 layers, stacked above the earth, and the earth resting on the back of a turtle, floating in the ocean. Four brothers called the Bacabs, possibly the sons of Itzamná, supported the heavens. Below the earth lay a realm called Xibalba, an underworld in nine layers. Linking the three realms was a giant tree whose roots reached into the underworld and branches stretched to heaven. The gods and the souls of the dead traveled between worlds along this tree.”
“And the king was at the top of the 13 layers of the heavens?”
“No, this room depicts the king at the bottom, having just left the lowest rung of the earth based ladder.”
“You look like you know a lot about this stuff.”
“I’ve read a little. I’m no expert on the Mayan belief system, but for the most part, this seems to be in keeping with Sam’s original theory that this was a Mayan tomb. There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s a lot of references to non-Mayan symbolism.”
“Could they have been drawn from the Master Builders?” Tom suggested.
“It’s unlikely. If the Master Builders did exist, they have never mixed more than one culture in their projects. The only image that carried across from the African relics, Egyptian pyramids, and other ancient sites is that of the Master Builders themselves. In this case, it almost appears as though the Mayans, themselves, have collected the information.”
“Could the Mayans have traveled that far?”
“Around the world?” Billie drew back from her monitor, and paused for a millisecond. “Anything’s possible, but highly unlikely. Such a statement would be akin to saying that the Vikings were the first to sail around the world.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I need to get some more pictures. Actually, I’m going to need hundreds of them. If I can feed them into my computer system, I have a deciphering program that may be able to come up with an explanation.”
“Do you have any ideas?” Tom asked.
“Yes, but none of them are possible.”
“Why not?”
“Because it suggests that the Mayan people once had something more powerful than we have today.”
“And what’s that?”
Billie grimaced, like she was about to say something ridiculous. “The ability to actually travel between their realms of life, death, and the heavens. Some of these images show cultures that weren’t even developed a thousand years ago.”
“That is crazy.”
“Yes, it is. I just don’t have a more plausible answer — yet.”
In front of her, Billie’s computer hummed as it tried to crunch some very complex algorithms. Despite being one of the most advanced laptop computers in existence, it was having trouble resolving the data that she had input. Billie had taken more than three hundred pictures of the pictographs and hieroglyphics inside the King’s Chamber. Having charted the information on her laptop, she now tried to decipher what it all meant.
And this meant differentiating between the Mayan texts, Egyptian symbols and Master Builder markings.
She had remained at the original site, gathering as much information as she could, before word of its discovery reached them. Billie knew what would occur when that happened, and if she was going to get any further in her search, she would have to have it all mapped out before they came.