Clive Cussler - Inca Gold

The giant stone heads from the Olmec culture of Mexico show definite features of black Africans," said Pitt, "while any number of carved stone faces throughout the Mesoamerican cultures have Oriental characteristics."

Ortiz nodded in agreement. "The serpent heads that decorate many of the Mayan pyramids and temples are the spitting image of dragon heads carved in Japan and China."

"But is there hands-on proof?" asked Gunn.

"No objects that can be conclusively proven as manufactured in Europe have yet to be found."

"The skeptics have a strong case in the lack of pottery lathes or wheeled vehicles," Gunn added.

"True," agreed Ortiz. "The Mayans did adopt the wheel for children's toys but never for practical use. Not surprising when you consider they had no beasts 'of burden until the Spanish introduced the horse and oxen."

"But you would think they could have found a purpose for the wheel, say for hauling construction materials," Gunn persisted.

"History tells us that the Chinese developed the wheelbarrow six hundred years before it found its way to Europe," Ortiz countered.

Pitt downed the last of his brandy. "It doesn't seem possible an advanced civilization existed in such a remote region without some kind of outside influence."

"The people living in the mountains today, descendants of the Chachapoyas, many of them still fair-skinned with blue and green eyes, speak of a godlike man who appeared among their ancestors from the eastern sea many centuries ago. He taught them building principles, the science of the stars, and the ways of religion."

"He must have forgotten to teach them how to write," quipped Giordino.

"Another nail in the coffin of pre-Columbian contact," said Gunn.

"This holy man had thick white hair and a flowing beard," Ortiz continued. "He was extremely tall, wore a long white robe, and preached goodness and charity toward all. The rest of the story is too close to that of Jesus to be taken literally-- the natives must have introduced events from Christ's life into the ancient story after they were converted to Christianity. He traveled the land, healing the sick, making the blind see again, working all sorts of miracles. He even walked on water. The people raised temples to him and carved his likeness in wood and stone. None of these portraits, I might add, has ever been found. Almost verbatim, the same myth has come down through the ages from the early Mexican cultures in the form of Quetzalcoatl, the ancient god of old Mexico."

"Do you believe any part of the legend?" asked Pitt.

Ortiz shook his head. "Not until I excavate something substantial that I can positively authenticate. We may, however, have some answers quite soon. One of your universities in the United States is currently running DNA tests on Chachapoyan remains removed from tombs. If successful, they will be able to confirm whether the Chachapoyas came from Europe or evolved independently."

"What about Huascar's treasure?" said Pitt, bringing the conversation back on track.

"A discovery that would stun the world," Ortiz answered. "I'd like to think the hoard still exists in some forgotten cave in Mexico." Then he exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke and stared at the evening stars. "The chain would be a fabulous discovery. But for an archaeologist, the great finds would be the huge solid gold sun disk and the royal golden mummies that vanished along with the chain."

"Golden mummies," echoed Gunn. "Did the Incas preserve their dead like the Egyptians?"

"The preservation process was not nearly as complex as that practiced by the Egyptians," explained Ortiz. "But the bodies of the supreme rulers, or Sapa Incas as they were called, were encased in gold and became cult objects in the people's religious practices. The mummies of the dead kings lived in their own palaces, were frequently reclothed with fresh wardrobes, served sumptuous feasts, and maintained harems of the most beautiful women. Chosen as attendants, I might add, not to indulge in necrophilia."

Giordino stared over the shadows of the city. "Sounds like a waste of taxpayers' money."

"A large body of priests supervised the upkeep," Ortiz continued, "acquiring a lucrative interest in keeping the dead kings happy. The mummies were often carried around the country in great splendor, as if they were still heads of state. Needless to say, this absurd love affair with the dead caused a great drain on Inca financial resources, helping immeasurably to topple the empire during the Spanish invasion."

Pitt zipped his leather jacket against the cold and said, "While on board our ship, Dr. Kelsey received a message concerning a stolen suit of gold that was traced to a collector in Chicago."

Ortiz looked thoughtful and nodded. "Yes, the Golden Body Suit of Tiapollo. It covered the mummy of a great general called Naymlap who was the right-hand advisor to an early Inca king. Before leaving Lima, I heard that American Customs agents had tracked it down, only to lose it again."

"Lose it?" For some reason Pitt didn't feel vastly surprised.

"The director of our National Cultural Ministry was about to board a plane to the United States to lay claim to the mummy and the body suit when he was informed that your Customs agents were too late. Thieves made off with it while they had the owner under surveillance."

"Dr. Kelsey said that images engraved on the suit depicted the voyage of the fleet that carried the treasure to Mexico."

"Only a few of the images were deciphered. Modern scholars never had a chance to study the suit properly before it was stolen from its case in the museum in Seville."

"It's conceivable," suggested Pitt, "that whoever grabbed the suit this time is on the trail of the golden chain."

"A credible conclusion," Ortiz agreed.

"Then the thieves have an inside track," said Giordino.

"Unless someone else discovers the Drake quipu," Pitt said slowly, "and gets there first."

"Ah yes, the infamous jade box," Ortiz sighed skeptically. "A fanciful tale that has refused to die. So you also know about the legendary rope trick giving directions to the golden chain?"

"You sound dubious," said Pitt.

"No hardcore evidence. All reports are too flimsy to take seriously."

"You could write a thick book about the superstitions and legends that were proven to be true."

"I am a scientist and a pragmatist," said Ortiz. "If such a quipu exists, I would have to hold it in my own hands, and even then I wouldn't be fully convinced of its authenticity."

"Would you think me mad if I told you I was going to hunt for it?" asked Pitt.

"No madder than the thousands of men throughout history who have chased over the horizon after a nebulous dream." Ortiz paused, flicked the ash from his cigar, and then stared heavily at Pitt through somber eyes. "Be forewarned. The one who finds it, if it really exists, will be rewarded with success and then doomed to failure."

Pitt stared back. "Why doomed to failure?"

"An amauta, an educated Inca who could understand the text, and a quipu-mayoc, a clerk who recorded on the device, can't help you."

"What are you telling me?"

"Simply put, Mr. Pitt. The last people who could have read and translated the Drake quipu for you have been dead for over four hundred years."

In a remote, barren part of the southwest desert, a few kilometers east of Douglas, Arizona, and only 75 meters (246 feet) from the border between Mexico and the United States, the hacienda La princesa loomed like a Moorish castle at an oasis. It was named by the original owner, Don Antonio Diaz, in honor of his wife, Sophia Magdalena, who died during childbirth and was entombed in an ornate, baroque crypt that stood enclosed within a high-walled garden. Diaz, a peon who became a miner, struck it rich and took an immense amount of silver out of the nearby Huachuca Mountains.