Incarnate: Mars Origin "I" Series Book III (12 page)

Caracol, Belize

We
had been traipsing through the jungle for what seemed like hours. Logan had
assured me we’d been out no longer than fifteen minutes. I didn’t think I could
make it another minute.

I
needed to remember how much I hate physical stuff like this when I get the
yearning to go on digs.

It
had been two days since I arrived. It was too late to come out to see the slab
the day I got in, and the next day – so no one would get suspicious – Logan
made herself visible around the site. We had got an early start, but it
appeared, so did the sun.

I
wiped the sweat off that was beading up on my forehead and starting to slide
down my face with the sleeve of my blouse.

“There are
still at least thirty square miles of uncleared and unexcavated ruins left in
the thick, high-canopy jungle.” Logan pointed out across the landscape. She was
walking ahead of me and talking like a tour guide.

“We’re not
going to walk those thirty square miles are we?”

“No. So far
we’ve- well you know teams before mine – we’ve identified five plazas, and over
thirty-five thousand buildings here. One that was located - the tallest of them
- has a massive pyramid that rises more than one hundred and forty feet high
from the jungle floor and has three temples.”

I couldn’t care
less. So much history should have exhilarated me, but I was exhausted. I
inhaled, wiped my brow and exhaled with an exaggerated sigh.  I looked
back to see how far we had gone from the car. Of course I couldn’t see it.
Trees, vines and bushes obscured the view.

What was the
reason to get a 4x4 if she was just going to park it and walk over the rough
terrain?

“Here
it is.” Logan pointed down. Out of breath, I moved closer in to try and have a
look. Half of it was still buried, and there were cracks running through it. I
couldn’t tell if the entire stone was intact, but it did look like parts of it
were broken.

“Do
you know what it reads? Did you get it translated?”

“Yeah.
I translated it.”

“When
did you learn Maya hieroglyphics?”

“Mayan.”

I
rubbed my forehead.

“When
they asked me if I wanted the job,” she said. “I wasn’t really qualified, so I
thought I should at least make an effort to be worthy of the position.”

I
smiled. Motherly pride. She must have noticed I was impressed.

“I
mean I translated as best I could,” she said. “Mayan hieroglyphics is still
pretty new. And it’s understood that their writing style was very sophisticated
and carried multiple levels of meaning.”

I
chuckled. That sounded just like it came out of a textbook. She could defend
her abilities all she wanted, I couldn’t read it so I’d have to depend on what
she translated anyway. “Well, what does it say?”

“Nothing
about corn. That’s for sure.”

“Didn’t
they call it maize?”

“It
didn’t have that word either.”

“Just
tell me what it was about.”

“It
was about the Maya god, Itzamna.”

“Oh.”

I
bent down and brushed my hand across the stone. I stared down at the writing. I
was unfamiliar with Maya history, its gods and certainly its writing. But I
trusted her if she said it didn’t have anything to do with corn. Then it
probably didn’t.

“Show
me the English.”

“Over
here.” She pointed toward one end of the stone slab and then walked to the far
corner. She bent down and pointed to the carving.

I
followed over to where she was pointing.

“Ugh.”
I sat down with a grunt. It took more energy than I had left after walking
through the jungle. I tried to get as close as possible. And there it was in
English. Looking like it belonged on the wall of a bathroom stall in a seedy
bar rather than in the Maya jungle.

I
leaned forward and looked at it. I tilted my head. Squinted my eyes. And tilted
my head the other way. I ran my fingers through the grooves of the letters.

A
clue?

I
sat back and rested on my hands.

Didn’t
look like a clue to anything to me. I’m sure Logan didn’t want to hear me say
that. I glanced up at her and back down at the words. The only thing I could
tell her about it was that an ancient monument had been defaced with graffiti.

I
peered up at Logan standing over me. “What is L.S. II?”

“I
think it’s a ‘who.’”

“A
‘who’?”

“Not
sure, but I think it’s
Linton Satterthwaite, Jr.”

“The
archaeologist?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”
I got up, with a lot of effort, and brushed my hands together and shook my
head. “Not possible.”

“Then
what does it mean?”

“I
don’t know, but no archaeologist would do something like that. Destroy
artifacts. That’s unthinkable.”

Justin had
come!

Simon couldn’t
have been happier. It was what he had been waiting on.

After speaking
to Jairo who was of no help, he kept an eye on the GPS in Logan’s satellite
phone the rest of the day. He was able to see her location. Tikal. She had
driven from Belize City to Tikal.

It had to be
Justin.

He had gone to
the site day after Logan had taken her excursion to Belize City. He knew Logan
would have taken her mother to see the site. He couldn’t wait to walk up and
surprise Justin. He had been giddy with how he’d approach her, possibly out in
the forest where Logan seemed so fond of venturing each day, explain to Justin
why he had to kill her and then  . . . He smiled at the thought.

But she hadn’t
been there. He found Logan on the site – alone.

So the next
day, he followed the tracker to Tikal and found it emanated inside of a hotel.

She must be
here.

He turned off
the tracker to save battery power, camped out in front of the hotel, and
waited. He’d watch for the white Ford Focus as Logan left the hotel with her
mother and follow them. He didn’t see the car but reasoned it was probably in
the garage. He knew she was there and she’d have to come out eventually.

He grinned as
he settled in.

After three and
a half hours of waiting the white Focus hadn’t emerged. He switched on the GPS
and found that it was blinking fifty miles away.

What the . .
. How did they get past me?

He turned the
ignition and sped off following the blinking red dot.  

Giza Plateau, Egypt

Aaron still
pretended to be interested in the dig at the Sphinx, but truly he couldn’t have
cared less about it. He felt eyes looking at him. Accusing eyes. All the time.

Sometimes he
thought about aiming his pistol at one of their heads, pulling the trigger and
moving to the next one.

He shook it
off.
Just let them look
, he thought.
I will comeback from this
.

Laura had tried
to be a comfort to him. Saying he still had permits. He was still in charge.
And no matter what the team members knew – or thought they knew – about his
intentions they were all under his direction. “Don’t let them control your
emotions,” she had said. They had to listen to him. And, maybe, she said trying
to smooth his ruffled feathers, something great may come out of it.

Without her he
was sure he wouldn’t have made it through. And some days he still wasn’t sure
that he would. He felt disgraced.

He was with
Laura under the canopy of his trailer, watching people sift through the dirt on
the site, when t
he Director General of the Giza Plateau’s
secretary walked smugly across the excavation grounds toward them.

Laura
was seated in one of the folding chairs and Aaron was packing up equipment
outside the camper. He wasn’t packing up to leave. He couldn’t live through the
talk that would come from that. But he needed to look like he was doing
something.

The
Director General’s secretary was tall and thin. His hair curly and like his
beard, was black and unkempt. He started speaking as soon as he approached the
camper, dispensing with any salutations or niceties.

“We
had to be very circumspect when it came to digging underneath the Sphinx. For
thousands of years it had not been moved. Its foundation had stayed the same.
Nothing but electronic viewing of it was allowed. That is until you came
along.”

Aaron
didn’t look up from what he was doing. “What are you trying to say?”

“Trying
to say?” The man chuckled. “You misunderstand me. I am not
trying
to say
anything. I am here to tell you about our monuments. About our government.
About how we feel letting outsiders come into our country and take what is
rightfully ours.”

Aaron
lifted up an eyebrow and glanced menacingly at the bearded man who was sweating
profusely. “I had all the appropriate permits.”

“Egypt
is in the midst of much unrest. And the government is a big problem here for
many of our citizens.” He spit out each of his words. “The security forces must
take lives often to keep order and our courts sentences many people to die when
they side with those who are against what is best for Egypt.”

Aaron
looked at Laura and back up at the Secretary. He chuckled. “If I didn’t know
better, I would think that you are threatening me.” He stopped packing up the
gear and turned to stared at the man. Surely, he thought, this little nothing
of a man didn’t think he could intimidate him.

“I
am just telling you of the ways of my country. What have you found? Did you find
what you were looking for?”

Before
he could answer his satellite phone rang.

“Excuse
me, Mr. Secretary. I have to take this.”

“You
don’t seem to understand, Dr. Coulter . . . Who is that?  I won’t be
ignored . . .”

Aaron
turned his back to the man.

“Hello,”
Aaron said, and walked around the side of the trailer to get away from prying
ears.

“Aaron
Coulter.”

“Yes.”

“This
is Simon Melas. It’s been a long time.”

“Simon
. . . Simon Melas. Yeah. Simon. How are you?”

“I’m
in a bit of a bind.”

“Oh
yeah, I think I heard a rumor about that. I thought you might be in jail.”

“I’m
in Central America. On a U.S. sanctioned dig. Big things are happening. Thought
you’d like to be a part of it.”

“Really?
I’m all ears.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Caracol, Belize

I
was sitting on the ground in the Belize jungle next to a stone slab.

Leaning
back on my hands I stared up at the sky. It was blue and clear. The dense
tangled thicket of shrubs and ferns thrived gracefully in the heat. I was
sweating so much that I felt wilted. I knew I was getting dehydrated and the
mosquitoes were feasting on the only other liquid I had left in my body. There
were all kinds of noises around us making me jumpy. In fact almost every sound
made me sit up and look over my shoulder. It seemed as if my ears picked up on
every sound. There wasn’t any noises in the desert where I was used to digging.
The jungle was beautiful, much nicer than what I was used to, but it was
scary. I certainly didn’t want to be Logan and have to be out here every day.

Logan was
studying the part of the slab that had been cleared. Apparently taking in again
the
Mayan writing carved all over the face of it. I sat wondering
how could we “follow the corn.”

“What
I’m thinking is that you should uncover the entire rock and read it.” I smacked
my arm, and looked at my hand. Mosquito. Brushing my hands together, I said,
“And, I think you should read it inside of a lab. An air conditioned lab.”

“I
read it already. I told you that.”

“You
couldn’t have read the entire slab, part of it is still covered.” I waved my
hand out across it. “It could have that ‘clue’ you’re looking for.”

“I
can’t let anyone else see this. They’ll think I’m trying to pull a hoax. And
with you as my mother . . .”

“What
is that supposed to mean? Are you ashamed of me?”

“No.
Not at all. I’m just saying that people will think I’m sucking on the same
crazy juice that you’ve been drinking.”

“Whew,
what a way to talk to your mother.”

I’d gone back
and forth for so long on what to do with what I knew. At first I was too nervous
to share the information. Fearing ridicule and being shunned. And not only for
me, but for my family. My children. And now Logan needed my help but she was
afraid of it because of what I knew.

“No one knows
what I know, Logan.”

“Someone knows,
Mommy. The people that hired me, they know. I’m sure of it. But I just thought
I could make a name for myself with just everyday kind of science. Not with
your pseudoscience theories.”

“I am in the
middle of nowhere with you, just this side of a heat stroke, trying to help
you. You are the only one who has even brought up my ‘theory’ as you call
it.  I haven’t said anything about it. You just need to calm down. Slow
your roll. I can’t figure out anything in one day.”

“I’m not asking
you to figure out anything in one day.”

“If you want to
be scientific about this, then you need to start thinking like a scientist.”

“I am thinking
like a scientist.”

“Really? You
don’t have enough facts to figure this out and the only evidence you have is
partially obscured. The carving on the side of the slab may not be the
important part of this.”

“I read the
part I uncovered. I told you it had nothing to do with corn. It just recites
praises to the god Itzamna.”

“Well how about
we get a couple of brushes, clean this off and see what the rest of it says?”

She didn’t
respond for a long while. She dug her hands into her pocket and kicked her foot
into the dirt. She gazed out for a while and then glanced at me, before she
hung her head. “You’re right,” she said. “I know you’re right. I just got
excited about it. And I do have it stuck in my head about your discovery. I
just can’t seem to shake it.”

“Yeah. I can
tell.”

“Mommy, don’t
think I don’t believe you. Because I do. I believe you and I trust you. It’s
just that I want to make my mark for myself on something real.”

“As opposed to
my
unreal
story about man coming from Mars?”

“Yeah.” She
laughed. “As opposed to that.” She let a small smile escape. “So, I’ve got a
couple of brushes in my knapsack. You want to go for it?”

“Oh my goodness,
no.” I put my hand on my chest and let it slide down to my stomach. “If I spend
any more time out here I think I’ll die.”

“You won’t die.
Here, take a brush.”

After hours –
okay again, Logan said it hadn’t been that long - the brushes had been thrown aside
and our clammy, dirt covered fingers were digging down into the groves of the
writing. The glyphs on the stone exposed.

I sat on the
ground and wiped my hands on my scarf. “So that’s pretty much it, Logan.” I ran
my eyes up and down the stone. “What does it say?”

“I can’t just
read it.”

“I thought you
said you learned -”

She didn’t let
me finish my sentence. “I mean, I need help with it.” She swiped the back of
her hand across her forehead. “I have my books back in the trailer.”

“Oh.”

“I mean I
probably can make out some of the words.”

“No. It’s okay.
How about if we take pictures of it. Can you do that with that fancy satellite
phone you have?”

“This little
baby can do anything.” Logan smiled and pulled her phone from her knapsack.
“Great idea, Mom.”

“Wait did you
hear that?”

“Hear what?”
Logan started snapping pictures of the stone. “I think I can do like a
panoramic shot . . .”

“Shhh! Listen
Logan. I hear something.”

“Mom, there is
always some kind of noise out here. The jungle is not a quiet place.”

“No. I pretty
much got those jungle noises figured out. This is something else. Something
different”

“Mmm hmmm.”

She wasn’t
paying any attention to me. I crawled down to the end of the slab and listened.
Then I thought I wouldn’t want to be caught on the ground if it were some wild
jungle men – if there were such a thing – coming to get me. My mind immediately
went back to the Sentinelese people chasing me and my brother, Greg with
spears.

Oh shoot
.

I gotta get up
off this ground. I figured that if someone jumped out from behind a bush ready
to attack me, I wouldn’t be able to get up fast enough to run. Not that I
thought I could outrun anyone. So I levied myself on a branch and pulled up off
the ground. I cocked my head to one side and listened. Logan was clicking away.

“You know for
you not to want anyone to know I’m here, you sure are unconcerned.”

“That’s because
no one knows we’re here.” She glanced at me. “Just a couple more shots. Fix
your shirt.”

I looked down
at my shirt and tugged it down. “Who cares about a shirt,” I mumbled. “Someone
might be trying to kill us.”

“Mommy,” she
said. I looked at over at her. “Get a grip.”

“You get a
grip,” I muttered.

I tried to
stand perfectly still and listen in order to determine which direction the
noise was coming. Then everything got quiet. I turned away from Logan and
stared through the overgrowth. Concentrating. Holding my breath.

“Hello.” A
voice came from behind me.

“Oh!” I jumped
and screamed. “Oh my God!”