Levi had been taken aback by his host’s genial charm. It hadn’t been long, though, before the facade of bonhomie had completely vanished. The study room in the Wewelsburg Castle north tower was sombrely decorated with swastikas and runes, matching Himmler’s change in mood. It was already clear to Levi that his participation in the Tikal expedition would not be voluntary.
‘Are you familiar with craniometry and the cephalic index, Professor?’
Levi nodded without commenting. He had long believed the Nazis’ philosophy of using ‘head shape’ and ‘nose shape’ as measures of racial categorisation to be a dark stain on the social science of anthropology.
‘Then you will not need reminding of the importance I attach to the collection of Mayan skulls. They are to be brought back to Wewelsburg for examination and classification. It will be in your own interest to give us your full cooperation,’ Himmler added, before turning to his young protege. ‘Hauptsturmfuhrer von Hei?en will be in charge of the expedition, although you will, of course, direct the archaeological exploration, so we will need your lists of supplies as soon as possible. Von Hei?en will ensure that the necessary officers are on hand to assist you.’
Levi nodded, Ramona’s warnings ringing in his ears. Himmler got up from the table and walked over to a small stone aperture overlooking the village.
‘In time this castle will represent the zenith of racial science,’ he said, leaning on the stone ledge. ‘The village of Wewelsburg will be an SS city, and this castle will be the Vatican of the world. I wish you a pleasant stay, Professor,’ Himmler said, dismissing Levi with a curt nod.
‘I want you to depart as soon as possible,’ Himmler ordered von Hei?en.
‘ Jawohl, Herr Reichsfuhrer. We’ve already started assembling the stores, and I’ve made contact with our embassy in Guatemala City. They’re doing everything possible to clear the diplomatic hurdles.’
‘Excellent! Generaloberst Goring has assured me that an aircraft and crew will be made available for the duration of your time in Guatemala. In the meantime watch Weizman carefully, von Hei?en. The Jew is as cunning as a sewer rat and is never to be trusted.’
‘There was no one else, Herr Reichsfuhrer?’
‘No one with the necessary skills in reading the Mayan hieroglyphics, no. But we can dispense with him once the expedition is successful. More importantly, I’ve also met with the papal envoy, Signor Alberto Felici, who plans to visit the expedition. Felici’s arranged substantial sponsorship from Vatican finances, so he’s to be treated well. In return, he’s asked for a Father Ehrlichmann to join the expedition in an official capacity. Amongst other things, Ehrlichmann is an expert on craniometry, so he’ll undoubtedly be useful, but he’s to be trusted no more than Weizman or Felici.’
‘There is another agenda, Herr Reichsfuhrer?’
‘Perhaps. The Vatican only shows an interest in archaeological digs when they fear what might be found. You’ve seen the cable from our ambassador in Guatemala raising the possibility of a missing codex purported to contain a catastrophic warning for the human race. As to the precise nature of that warning, Weizman and the Vatican will both have their theories… We shall see. But if the codex does exist, the Jew can lead us to it.’
4
L evi Weizman glanced into the cockpit of the Luftwaffe Junkers Ju 52. The pilot had started his descent and the co-pilot was leaning forward. His leather helmet obscured the instrument panel, but he appeared to be tapping on one of the fuel gauges.
Levi turned in his seat and looked out of the big square window of the Junkers. Nearly 5000 feet below, wispy grey clouds drifted amongst the thick jungle of the Guatemalan highlands. The Junkers was slow, cruising at only 160 miles per hour, and it was cramped: there were just twelve seats, six either side of the centre aisle. The flight had taken a bum-numbing ten days from Berlin. Having finally crossed the Gulf of Mexico and landed at Merida, the bustling, wealthy capital of Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula, it would be ironic, Levi thought, if they were to have a fuel problem now. He glanced at von Hei?en sitting opposite, but the arrogant German, whom Himmler had promoted to major, seemed unperturbed.
‘Tikal seems a remote place to establish a city, Herr Professor.’ von Hei?en said.
‘It might seem that way today, but the Maya chose their sites very carefully. Tikal was built on top of a continental divide, astride one of their most important trading routes, one that linked the Gulf of Mexico and the Usumacinta River in the west with the rivers that flow into the Caribbean in the east. So the inhabitants of Tikal, under kings like Great Jaguar Claw, had control over international trade.’
‘Reminiscent of the way the Aryans would do things?’
‘As an archaeologist, I’m always careful to ensure there is concrete evidence before reaching any firm conclusions, Sturmbannfuhrer.’
Von Hei?en scrutinised Levi’s map of the ancient city. ‘There seems to be a great many ruins,’ he observed.
‘Construction took place over many centuries. By the middle of the sixth century, we know that Tikal covered some thirty square kilometres and was inhabited by over 100 000 Maya. It was a huge city.’
‘And the pyramids?’
‘The stepped pyramids were constructed in the form of the Witz, the sacred mountain of the Maya,’ Levi replied. ‘Other structures served as palaces for the royal families, and as tombs.’ He chose his words carefully, not wishing to reveal his theories on the Maya architects’ employment of?, the golden mean, or their use of the Fibonacci sequence. Levi was now convinced the construction and alignment of the pyramids were linked to the missing figurines and the Maya Codex itself.
Further conversation was cut short by an abrupt spluttering from the port engine. A trail of smoke poured from the cowling.
‘Everything will be okay. We have two other good engines,’ von Hei?en observed with a throaty laugh, but the starboard engine, and then the nose engine coughed, and Levi felt a pang of fear in the depths of his gut. The pilots were working frantically to restart the engines, and the radio operator was furiously tapping out an SOS in morse. Levi knew that in this part of the world, radio communications were tenuous at best.
‘Befestigen Sie Ihre Sicherheitsgurte! Fasten your seatbelts!’ the engineer yelled as the aircraft began a steep descent towards the jungle below.
Levi fastened his belt and silently began the Shema Yisrael, the prayer from Deuteronomy that all God-fearing Jews recited in the morning and at night: Sh’ma Yis’ra’eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad… Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One… Barukh sheim k’vod malkhuto I’olam va’ed… Blessed be the Name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever…
The wind tore at the stationary propellers and whistled over the corrugated wings and fuselage. The aircraft shook violently. In the cockpit, the two pilots worked feverishly at the controls, but all three engines were dead.
‘All three gauges are showing empty now!’ Leutnant Muller, the young Luftwaffe co-pilot, yelled.
The pilot, Colonel Hans Krueger, motioned to the younger man to remain calm. Oberst Krueger had seen service flying Fokker biplanes with Goring in the Great War, and had been shot down three times. He’d been awarded the Iron Cross First Class, and Generaloberst Goring had personally selected his old friend for ‘Operation Maya’.