Hu’s door opened and the professor filled it, standing there in Hawaiian boxer briefs, bedhead, and a perplexed expression. ‘Thomas? What’s going on?
Lourds took a deep breath and tried to control the excitement that filled him. ‘We were wrong about the scholar’s rock room. I was wrong about it.’
‘What?’
‘The room. That’s what’s wrong. All of it. There’s no way those people went roaming about the countryside for those scholar’s rocks. And no way they could have smoothed them like that with hand tools. I should have thought of it sooner. My only excuse is that I was too tired to think properly. Grab some lights and help me wake the others. We’re going to need help.’
‘Mate, I hope you’re right about the big reveal. We’re wasting a lot of our generator fuel lighting this place.’ Rory didn’t look happy or convinced.
Lourds studied the room as the BBC production crew, Gelu and his Sherpas who had stayed to enjoy the respite, and the monks hung lights around the room. They’d put most of them on the east wall, where Lourds felt confident they would find the room’s secret.
‘Get your cameraman over here.’ Lourds ran his fingers through his hair and reseated his hat. ‘I only want to explain this once.’
One of the young monks pointed and whispered. ‘Cowboy.’
Lourds grinned at that and shot the young monk with a forefinger pistol.
The monk laughed, then quickly took one of the staging lights Gloria gave him and started climbing the wall. He went up the craggy surface so easily it looked like he’d switched off gravity and flowed up.
Gloria looked at Lourds with a confused expression.
The cameraman switched the device on. ‘Let’s roll.’
Lourds hit his spot, straightened his hat brim, and waited just a second. Then he waved at the 116 figures standing behind him. ‘Yesterday evening, when I first saw these scholar’s rocks depicting the migratory people who came here after Jiahu flooded, I was fooled. I thought those figures simply represented the struggles of those people to get to this place, the hardships they’d endured, and even the enemies they’d faced. I thought that was the whole story. I was wrong.’
Reaching out, Lourds directed the camera toward the figures.
‘What you see there is only part of the story. It relates the history, and we’ve found some of the same symbols on those scholar’s rocks. I thought that was the find, and I thought that was the vindication of those people. Then I started thinking, wondering why the tortoiseshell had been left behind at the grave.’
Lourds pulled the camera back to him and let his excitement show as it did when he was in the classroom.
‘The tortoiseshell had to have been left behind with someone that would mark the way for others of the tribe. He was probably a wise man, a shaman. We’ll know more when the archaeologists at the Jiahu site reveal their findings. Someone from this place had to return to Jiahu with the tortoise map.’
Lourds stepped back, allowing the cameraman to frame him and the cavern in the shot.
‘When the Yellow River overflowed its banks in the past, the floods have always been horrendous. I feel confident in saying that the floods that struck in 5800 BC were terrifying. Added to that, the people living there had drawn the ire of an enemy. Maybe it was just a predacious encroachment. Robbers taking what they could from a peaceful community. Maybe it was a more hostile intent. That community was in a good spot until the flood. Their developed fields alone would have been worth a war to another people that had been uprooted by another flood. We may never know.’
Taking a breath, Lourds pointed at the scholar’s rocks. The cameraman stayed locked on him, but Rory looked impatient.
‘Possibly the people who came here thought their respite would be brief. Instead, they became stuck here because there was no home to go back to, or because the travel was hard, and they didn’t want to chance it again if they could meet their needs here. We do know their lives were harsh while living here. But they concealed their greatest secret.’
As every eye in the chamber stared at him, Lourds hoped he was right. He’d piled on promises, and he was expected — like a magician — to pull a rabbit from his hat.
Now it was time to produce the rabbit.
14
Lourds grinned into the camera as nervous energy spiked his system. ‘One hundred and sixteen figures stand in this chamber. Each of them weighs several hundred pounds at least. Some of them weigh a thousand pounds. My original thinking was that the people dragged the rocks into this cavern.’ He turned toward the figures. ‘Then I thought about all that work. And that didn’t explain how all of them are smooth.’
Waving to the cameraman, Lourds walked down into the chamber while the expedition and the monks looked on. He felt like David Copperfield about to make an invisible elephant appear.
Except the elephant wasn’t even in the room.
‘As I considered the problem, I knew that the people needed a way to smooth the scholar’s rocks. I also realized they needed a source of water and food. Lake water can smooth rock, but nothing wears down edges as fast as running water.’
Lourds stopped beside the scholar’s rock of the flat-backed tortoise. He gestured to it, and the cameraman panned in for a full-frame shot.
‘Professor Lourds.’ Rory, his patience exhausted, trailed after the cameraman. ‘Please. That camcorder battery is only going to last a little while longer. It takes hours working a hand generator to charge them.’
Ignoring the director, Lourds continued.
‘Why make the tortoise with a flat back? I kept missing that. I mean, it was apparent. It looks like a serving dish. Or maybe a table.’ He pointed to the extremities. ‘Then it came to me. This tortoise was used as a staging platform.’ He whirled and pointed at the surrounding figures. ‘If you look at them, you’ll quickly realize that each and every one will fit on the back of this turtle.’
In the back of the crowd, Brother Shamar smiled proudly and nodded. The old man hadn’t known the secret before, but he was catching on quickly.
‘If this tortoise is a staging platform, as I believe, then there has to be a support mount for a rope to run through somewhere on the ceiling of this cavern.’
Lights swiveled toward the cavern’s ceiling. Hooking his fingers and toes into the craggy rock, Lourds climbed. The going was rough, and he wasn’t nearly as graceful as the monks, but he reached the ceiling nearly twenty feet above the stone floor. Some of the monks and BBC crew climbed with him, and Gloria followed as well. They all held on one-handed and shined their flashlights around the uneven ceiling.
For a long few minutes, Lourds feared his hypothesis was incorrect.
Then Thompson shouted. ‘There! Do you see it?’
He waggled his light over a thick stalactite, and the beam jumped through the hole that had been augured through the stone.
Lourds grinned.
Upon closer inspection — done while hanging from a climbing harness attached to pitons driven into the ceiling by the Sherpas — Lourds determined that the hole had been used for hauling.
‘The lips and inside are worn smooth.’ He hung upside down while talking to the cameraman. ‘If you’ll pass that camera up here—’
‘He most certainly will not.’ Rory stepped protectively toward the expensive equipment.