inca.gold-第45部分

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could　see　they　were　very　old　by　the　rounded　smoothness　of　their　edges。　Within　50　meters　（164　feet）　of　his　goal；　he　entered　a　rock　chimney　that　had　split　away　from　the　wall；　leaving　a　trail　of　loose　and　shattered　stone　inside　a　wide　crack　that　slanted　a　little　more　gently　and　made　the　climb　a　fraction　less　tiring。
　　　　At　last；　just　as　his　muscles　were　tightening　and　he　was　losing　all　feeling　in　his　legs；　the　rock　wall　gave　way　to　an　easy　incline；　and　he　crawled　onto　the　open　surface　of　the　peak。　He　rose　to　his　feet　as　the　final　light　of　day　faded；　breathing　deeply；　inhaling　the　cool；　pure　air　of　the　desert　He　rubbed　his　hands　on　the　legs　of　his　pants　to　remove　the　dirt　and　grit　and　stared　at　the　shadow　of　the　demon　looming　in　the　growing　darkness。　Though　it　was　carved　from　the　rock　of　the　mountain；　Billy　swore　that　it　glowed。　He　was　tired　and　sore；　but　strangely　he　felt　no　fear　of　the　time…worn　effigy；　despite　the　tales　about　how　the　restless　spirits　who　were　denied　entry　into　the　afterworld　walked　the　haunted　mountain。
　　　　He　saw　no　sign　of　fearsome　creatures　lurking　in　the　dark。　Except　for　the　jaguar　with　the　serpent's　head；　the　mountain　was　empty。　Billy　spoke　out。
　　　　〃I　have　e。〃
　　　　There　was　no　answer。　The　only　sounds　came　from　the　wind　and　the　beat　from　the　wings　of　a　hawk。　No　eerie　cries　from　the　tormented　souls　of　the　underworld。
　　　　〃I　have　climbed　the　enchanted　mountain　to　pray　to　you；〃　he　said。
　　　　Still　no　sign　or　reply；　but　a　chill　went　up　his　spine　as　he　felt　a　presence。　He　heard　voices　speaking　in　a　strange　tongue。　None　of　the　words　were　familiar。　Then　he　saw　shadowy　figures　take　shape。
　　　　The　people　were　visible　but　transparent。　They　appeared　to　be　moving　about　the　mesa；　taking　no　notice　d　Billy；　walking　around　and　through　him　as　if　it　were　he　who　did　not　exist。　Their　clothes　were　unfamiliar；　not　the　brief　cotton　loincloths　or　rabbit…skin　cloaks　of　his　ancestors。　These　people　were　dressed　as　gods。　Golden　helmets　adorned　with　brilliantly　colored　birds'　feathers　covered　most　of　the　phantoms'　heads；　while　those　who　went　bareheaded　wore　their　hair　in　strange　distinctive　fashions。　Their　bodies　were　clothed　with　textiles　Billy　had　never　seen。　The　knotted　mantles　that　draped　over　their　shoulders　and　the　tunics　worn　underneath　were　decorated　with　incredibly　ornate　and　beautiful　designs。
　　　　After　a　long　minute　the　strange　people　seemed　to　dissolve　and　their　voices　ceased。　Billy　stood　as　still　and　silent　as　the　rock　beneath　his　feet。　Who　were　these　strange　people　who　paraded　before　his　eyes？　Was　this　an　open　door　to　the　spirit　world；　he　wondered。
　　　　He　moved　closer　to　the　stone　monster；　reached　out　a　trembling　hand　and　touched　its　flank。　The　ancient　rock　felt　disturbingly　hotter　than　it　should　have　been　from　the　day's　heat。　Then；　incredibly；　an　eye　seemed　to　pop　open　on　the　serpent's　face；　an　eye　with　an　unearthly　light　behind　it。
　　　　Terror　stirred　through　Billy's　mind；　but　he　was　determined　not　to　flinch。　Later；　he　would　be　accused　of　an　overactive　imagination。　But　he　swore　a　thousand　times　before　his　own　death　many　years　later　that　he　had　seen　the　demon　stare　at　him　from　a　sparkling　eye。　He　summoned　up　his　courage；　dropped　to　his　knees　and　spread　out　his　hands。　Then　he　began　to　pray。　He　prayed　to　the　stone　effigy　through　most　of　the　night　before　falling　into　a　trancelike　sleep。　‘
　　　　In　the　morning；　as　the　sun　rose　and　painted　the　clouds　with　a　burst　of　gold；　Billy　Yuma　awoke　and　looked　around。　He　found　himself　lying　across　the　front　seat　of　his　Ford　pickup　truck　on　the　floor　of　the　desert；　far　below　the　silent　beast　of　the　mountain　that　stared　sightlessly　across　the　dry　waste。

　　　　Joseph　Zolar　stood　at　the　head　of　the　golden　suit；　watching　Henry　and　Micki　Moore　huddle　over　the　puter　and　laser　printer。　After　four　days　of　round…the…clock　study；　they　had　reduced　the　images　from　symbols　to　descriptive　words　and　concise　phrases。
　　　　There　was　a　fascination　about　the　way　they　snatched　up　the　sheets　as　they　rolled　out　onto　the　printer's　tray；　excitedly　analyzing　their　conclusions　as　a　wall　clock　ticked　off　the　remaining　minutes　of　their　lives。　They　went　about　their　business　as　if　the　men　behind　the　ski　masks　did　not　exist。
　　　　Henry　labored　in　focused　dedication。　His　world　existed　in　just　one　narrow　hall　of　academia。　Like　most　university　professors　of　anthropology　and　archaeology；　he　labored　for　prestige；　because　financial　wealth　eluded　him。　He　had　pieced　together　potsherds　and　had　written　a　prodigious　number　of　books　that　few　read　and　even　fewer　paid　good　money　to　own。　Published　with　small　print　runs；　all　his　works　ended　up　gathering　dust　in　the　basements　of　college　libraries。　Ironically；　the　fame　and　the　honors　that　he　foresaw　would　be　heaped　upon　him　as　the　interpreter；　and　perhaps　discoverer；　of　Huascar's　treasure　meant　more　to　him　than　mere　monetary　returns。
　　　　At　first　the　Zolars　found　Micki　Moore　sexually　appealing。　But　soon　her　indifference　toward　them　became　imitating。　It　was　obvious　that　she　loved　her　husband　and　had　little　interest　in　anyone　else。　They　lived　and　worked　together　in　a　world　of　their　own　making。
　　　　Joseph　Zolar　would　suffer　little　remorse　over　their　termination。　He　had　dealt　with　disgusting　and　despicable　sellers　and　collectors　over　the　years；　and　hardened　criminals　as　well；　but　these　two　people　were　an　enigma　to　him。　He　no　longer　cared　what　form　of　execution　his　brothers　had　in　mind　for　them。　All　that　mattered　now　was　that　the　Moores　e　up　with　concise　and　accurate　directions　to　Huascar's　golden　chain。
　　　　Wearing　the　ski　masks　had　been　a　waste　of　time；　but　they　kept　them　on　during　the　entire　time　they　were　in　the　Moores'　presence。　It　was　obvious　the　Moores　did　not　intimidate　easily。
　　　　Zolar　looked　at　Henry　Moore　and　attempted　a　smile。　It　wasn't　very　successful。　〃Have　you　finished　decoding　the　symbols？〃　he　asked　hopefully。
　　　　Moore　winked　foxlike　at　his　wife　and　gave　her　a　smug　grin　before　turning　to　Zolar。　〃We　are　finished。　The　story　we　have　deciphered　is　one　of　great　drama　and　human　endurance。　Our　unraveling　of　the　images　and　successful　translation　greatly　expands　the　current　knowledge　of　the　Chachapoyas。　And　it　will　rewrite　every　text　ever　written　on　the　Inca。〃
　　　　〃So　much　for　modesty；〃　said　Samson　sarcastically。
　　　　〃Do　you　know　precisely　where　the　treasure　is　buried？〃　Charles　Oxley　asked。
　　　　Henry　Moore　shrugged。　〃I　can't　say　precisely。〃
　　　　Sarason　moved　forward；　tight…lipped　and　angry。　〃I'd　like　to　ask　if　our　illustrious　code　breakers　have　the　slightest　idea　in　hell　what　they're　doing？〃
　　　　〃What　do　you　want？〃　Moore　stated　coldly。　〃An　arrow　that　points　to　X　marks　the　spot？〃
　　　　〃Yes；　dammit；　that's　exactly　what　we　want！〃
　　　　Zolar　smiled　condescendingly。　〃Let's　get　down　to　the　hard　facts；　Dr。　Moore。　What　can　you　tell　us？〃
　　　　〃You'll　be　happy　to　learn；〃　Micki　Moore　answered　for　her　husband；　〃that；　incredible　as　it　sounds；　the　golden　chain　is　only　a　small　part　of　the　treasure's　stockpile。　The　inventory　my　husband　and　I　have　deciphered　records　at　least　another　forty　or　more　tons　of　ceremonial　ornaments　and　vessels；　headdresses；　breastplates；　necklaces；　and　solid　gold　and　silver　objects　that　each　took　ten　men　to　carry。　There　were　also　massive　bundles　of　sacred　textiles；　at　least　twenty　golden…cased　mummies；　and　over　fifty　ceramic　pots　filled　with　precious　gems。　If　given　more　time　we　can　give　you　a　plete　breakdown。〃
　　　　Zolar；　Sarason；　and　Oxley　stared　at　Micki；　their　eyes　unblinking　through　the　masks；　their　expressions　of　insatiable　greed　well　hidden。　For　several　moments　there　wasn't　a　sound　except　their　breathing　and　the　whir　of　the　printer。　Even　for　men　used　to　dealing　in　million…dollar　sums；　the　extent　of　Huascar's　golden　wealth　went　far　beyond　their　wildest　imaginings。
　　　　〃You　paint　a　glowing　picture；〃　said　Zolar　finally。　〃But　do　the　symbols　on　the　mummy's　case　tell　us　where　the　treasure　is　buried？〃
　　　　〃It's　not　buried　in　the　strict　sense　of　the　word；〃　said　Henry　Moore。
　　　　He　stared　at　Zolar；　waiting　for　him　to　react　to　his　statement。　Zolar　stood　there　impassively。
　　　　〃According　to　the　narrative　engraved　on　the　suit；〃　Moore　explained；　〃the　hoard　was　secreted　in　a　cavern　on　a　river〃

　　　　Sarason's　eyes　flashed　with　sudden　disappointment。　〃Any　cavern　by　a　well…traveled　river　would　have　been　discovered　long　before　now；　and　the　treasure　removed。〃
　　　　Oxley　shook　his　head。　〃It's　not　likely　a　golden　chain　that　took　two　hundred　men　to　lift　could　have　vanished　a　second　time。〃
　　　　〃Nor　an　inventory　as　vast　as　the　Moores　describe；〃　added　Zolar。　〃As　an　acknowledged　expert　on　Inca　antiquities　I'd　be　aware　of　any　artifacts　identified　as　belonging　to　Huascar　that　have　made　their　way　onto　the　market。　No　one　who　discovered　such　a　cache　could　keep　it　secret。〃
　　　　〃Maybe　we've　placed　too　much　trust　in　the　good　doctor　and　his　wife；〃　said　Sarason。　〃How　do　we　know　they're　not　leading　us　down　the　garden　path？〃
　　　　〃Who　are　you　to　talk　about　trust？〃　Moore　said　quietly。　〃You　lock　my　wife　and　me　inside　this　concrete　dungeon　without　windows　for　four　days；　and　you　don't　trust　us？　You　people　must　enjoy　childish　games。〃
　　　　〃You　have　no　grounds　for　plaint；〃　Oxley　told　him。　〃You　and　Mrs。　Moore　are　being　paid　extremely　well。〃
　　　　Moore　gave　Oxley　an　impassive　look。　〃As　I　was　about　to　say；　after　the　Incas　and　their　Chachapoyan　guards　deposited　Huascar's　vast　store　of　treasure　in　the　cavern；　they　covered　the　entrance　to　a　long　passageway　that　led　to　it。　Then　they　blended　the　soil　and　rocks　to　make　it　look　natural　and　planted　native　plants　over　the　area　to　make　certain　the　passage　to　the　cavern　was　never　found　again。
　　　　〃Is　there　a　description　of　the　terrain　around　the　entrance　to　the　cavern？〃　Zolar　asked。
　　　　〃Only　that　it　is　on　a　rounded　peak　of　a　steep…sided　island　in　an　inland　sea。〃
　　　　〃Wait　a　moment；〃　snapped　Oxley。　〃You　said　the　cavern　was　near　a　river。〃
　　　　Moore　shook　his　head。　〃If　you　had　listened；　you'd　have　heard　me　say；　the　cavern　was　on　a　river。〃
　　　　Sarason　stared　angrily　at　Moore。　〃What　ridiculous　myth　are　you　handing　us？　A　cavern　on　a　river　on　an　island　in　an　inland　sea？　Took　a　wrong　turn　in　your　translation；　didn't　you；　Doc？〃
　　　　〃There　is　no　mistake；〃　said　Moore　firmly。　〃Our　analysis　is　correct。〃
　　　　〃The　use　of　the　word　river　could　be　purely　symbolic；〃　suggested　Micki　Moore。
　　　　〃So　could　the　island；〃　Sarason　retorted。
　　　　〃Perhaps　you'd　get　a　better　perspective　if　you　heard　our　entire　interpretation；〃　offered　Henry　Moore。
　　　　〃Please　spare　us　the　details；〃　said　Zolar。　〃We're　already　familiar　with　how　Huascar　smuggled　his　kingdom's　treasury　from　under　the　collective　noses　of　his　brother　Atahualpa　and　Francisco　Pizarro。　Our　only　interest　is　the　direction　General　Naymlap　sailed　the　treasure　fleet　and　the　exact　location　where　he　hid　the　hoard。〃
　　　　The　Moores　exchanged　glances。　Micki　gave　Henry　an　affirmative　nod；　and　he　turned　to　Zolar。　〃A11　right；　since　we're　partners。〃　He　paused　to　scan　a　page　rolled　out　by　the　printer。　〃The　pictographs　on　the　suit　tell　us　that　the　treasure　was　carried　to　a　coastal　port　and　loaded　on　a　great　number　of　ships。　The　voyage　north　lasted　a　total　of　eighty…six　days。　The　final　twelve　days　were　spent　sailing　across　an　inland　sea　until　they　came　to　a　small　island　with　high；　steep　walls　that　rose　out　of　the　water　like　a　great　stone　temp